Lazy good for nothing dog. All he did was lay around and look cute. We should have charged a quarter for each one of the lovins he got through out the night. We would have raked in the money!
Uncle Jill and the Devil's Slide Credit Union donated a $25 Visa card and this super cute cake.
Hair update: Tim's hair is growing back quire nicely, thank you very much! The only scar that he has from his wife-induced-hair-cut-adventure is a mental scar but with the proper medication and counseling we should be able to work through it.
It a was a hot muggy night, there was too many bugs and it rained a little. But there was a lot of people, a lot of food, a lot going on and the night flew by. I was able to stay awake all night and only hid out in the tent a couple of times when it rained.
Here I am using a Diet Coke to wash down the record number of insects I swallowed, inhaled or otherwise consumed that night. GROSS! 
We got to celebrate Buster's birthday. For some reason I don't remember getting a piece of this cake. I remember eating a lot of bugs but don't remember eating a piece of cake. What the heck!??!
The best part of the night was the luminary ceremony (with the exception of the patriotic music that was played during the fireworks show)
My bag
Shawn's bag. 
Brennan's bag. In case you can't tell, this is a picture of a bowl of tomato soup and cheese which was Grandma Billie's signature lunch.
Chaston's bag. This is a picture of grandma in her chair with Abby sitting on top of her chair
Aaron's bag
Jill's bag for mom
Jill's other bag for mom
Jill's bag for Grandpa Jim
Jill's bag for Aunt Jackie
Jill's bag for Aunt Mary Lou
Aunt Lynne's bag for Grandma Billie
Mystery bag. If there is some other grandma Billie out there that had a Sassy in their life and this is your bag, I brought it home with me.
We made it through the night. The sun is just starting to come up and most of us were still there!
The boys and I dragged (and I mean DRAGGED) ourselves home from the relay at about 7:30am. I immediately did a scrub down to get all the sweaty, humidy, dead buggidy, yuck off of me so that I could throw on a night shirt and get me some shut-eye.
Warning: the following description of myself may not be suitable for all audience members. Please proceed with caution as I tell you how I look in the morning. BAD--I look way BAD in the morning. Most especially the morning after the relay. I had no make-up on. My hair had kinda glued itself into this unintentional mow-hawk on one side of my head and tangled up dead bug's nest on the other side (no kidding). I had on the rattiest of ratty night shirt because I really didn't care what I was wearing as long as I could crawl in bed and SLEEP! Unlike Uncle Jill and Tiffany, I do not possess the power to look purty 24/7. For me, it is a complicated process that involves hours (yes hours) of washing, rinsing, conditioning, rinsing, application of products, drying, curlers, spraying, curling ironing, more spraying, some ratting, and a good shellacking. And that doesn't even include the make-up production that it takes to hide my hideousness.
So, back to the story.....about 9:30am (an hour and a half after I had laid down to sleep)Pancho started whining so I got up to let him out. I threw on my glasses so that I could see where I was going and took Panco out the back door (so not only did I look bad as described above, I had on my glasses). While I stood there waiting for Pancho to do his "business" I could hear a very loud hissing sound. And, something smelled. Something smelled BAD! Once I determined that the stankiness wasn't coming from Pancho, I decided to walk around to the front yard to see if I could figure out what the hissing and stinking was. This is what I found.....
Actually, I was greeted by my friendly neighborhood Questar man (yes, that Questar man) and his Questar posse, the Morgan County Fire Department, the Morgan County Sheriff's Office and way too many construction workers. The knucklehead construction boys who have been doing construction in my front yard hit the gas line. The hissing sound: the gas line. The awful smell: the gas line. All those guys: looking at the gas line. Me: freaking out that I was standing outside looking like I did.
The above picture doesn't do the situation any justice. I didn't get a picture of the fire trucks that were in my driveway. I didn't get a picture of the deputy vehicles that were on the street with their lights going. I didn't get a picture of Fire Chief Dave walking around my house with a gas meter. I didn't get a picture of Uncle Boyd looking at the broken gas line. I didn't get a picture of firefighter Giafalipinano walking up and down my drive way in what looked like a hazmat suit. I didn't get a picture of the construction boys trying to dig like crazy with shovels to get to the gas line so that it could get "pinched off" (Shawn's description, not mine) I didn't get any good pictures of the commotion that was going on because I was too worried about my emergency evacuation plan (that I don't have). I was too busy trying to figure out a way to barricade myself in my house because I'll be damned if I was going to be evacuated in front of all those people looking like I looked because I didn't have time to go through the above mentioned beautification process.
So, MOTHER, I got your message loud and clear! Always wear clean underpants cuz I'll never know when I'm going to be in an accident. Or when that Questar man, the fire department, the sheriff's department and a bunch of construction workers are going to show up at my door unannounced. I hope you got a good laugh out of this.
But mostly I hope we did you proud, mom.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......................................
Kisses..........from the Boody Bunch 
It brought him to his knees. No---wait--he's just entering a drawing for a free four-wheeler. He's got such a one track mind.
We spent a whole lotta time at the Polaris booth waiting for Shawn to pull himself together. 
