…was a good book, but that's not what I'm talking about.

Right now, 574 photos are transferring from my Nikon D80 to my Macintosh HD.

I have almost caught up on the episodes of “18 Kids and Counting” that were missed whilst away in California.

Three weeks ago, I fulfilled a promise made 20 years earlier and returned the picture of Jon Ascher (misspelled on purpose for privacy reasons) as a 9-year-old Boy Scout to his mother, who entrusted the image to me as part of my Baccalaureate slide-show duties. She received it the day she returned from witnessing John's New York City Hall wedding. Congratulations, Jon. Glad I could kind of be a part of it.

Today, I received a thank-you 19 years in the making. Thanks, B. Glad I could help.

My 574 photos just finished downloading. Can't decide whether to look at the camping on Cape Cod, the 20-year high-school reunion, the lunch with the Darneels (sp again), or the taking-the-boys-to Russian River ones. Guess you'll find out soon enough! In any case, there's a lot going on and Babykins JUST went to bed, so I'm much too busy for actual housekeeping over here.

After nearly two blissful, awesome, remarkable weeks in California, we got back into Boston last night at 8:00 and it was 88 degrees outside. Had a total know-it-all sitting in front of me: “If you held him, he might stop crying.” “Miss, it's inappropriate to do that here, you have to go to the head.” Would have been a lot more inappropriate to walk to the back of the plane with bright-orange baby feces running down my arm. Anyway, except for him, the trip home was uneventful, and we were able to wrangle the kids and the baggage with little difficulty, thanks mostly to the kindness of strangers and the mental and physical endurance of Team Monstro-Motormouth. I have 540+ photos to download so I better get to it.

There's something poignant about John Hughes dying on the eve of my 20-year high-school reunion. As someone who has seen “Sixteen Candles” probably about a hundred times (and the ending itself about 150), I mourn his passing.

Monstro, the boys, and I spent five days camping on Cape Cod. We arrived home today and the moment we hit city limits, it began to rain. Typical. Western Massachusetts is pretty much a rainforest these days. It's so green, I can squint my eyes and imagine I'm in Hawaii. Of course, I always did have an overactive imagination.

I thought camping would be difficult but it was actually spectacular. Our double-decker inflatable mattress assisted with this, as did no Internet or cell phone access. We were there with two other families from church and their kids were great about including Lex in their games. Babykins was teething pretty hard a couple of nights so our camping hostess rocked him to sleep on her decolletage, which is even more prominent than my own.

Lex and I are a little sunburnt — pretty damn hard to keep 50 SPF on a kid who won't stay out of the water — but we're being tough about it. Anyway, North Truro is the closest thing to bliss that Massachusetts has to offer. Highly recommended.

We were tasked with writing a satirical news article. Here's mine:

Jennifer Aniston Swears off Dating, Becomes A Nun

MALIBU, July 14, 2009 — Today Jennifer Aniston shocked the world by announcing her decision to become a nun.

“I’ve, like, dated a hundred guys, been dumped by the same, and the only one who’d marry me divorced me for Angelina Jolie,” Aniston said at her oceanside press conference in Malibu. “I figured the only guy left who wouldn’t dump me is God.”

Aniston will enter the Sisters of Inevitable Solitude at the end of the month. Mother Mary Can You Hear Me shared her feelings about the newest member of her flock.

“I understand that Miss Aniston is a smoker. We don’t grow tobacco leaves, so I expect she’ll have some transdermal patches packed in her luggage. We are, however, looking forward to her yoga instruction with our morning prayers.”

“We’ll be doing downward-facing dog for the betterment of humanity,” Aniston added.

Aniston, clad in a veil, black hood, and inky floor-length gown, fielded a question from the correspondent from “Vogue” about her atypical outfit.

“I haven’t gotten my habit yet, so I borrowed this from Warner Brothers,” Aniston said. “Do you like it?”

A reporter from The Huffington Post informed her that her outfit wasn’t a nun’s habit, but a typical Muslim burka.

“A what? I can’t hear you,” Aniston replied. “It’s really hot in this thing.”

Ex-boyfriend John Mayer happened to be on the Malibu beach, working on songs for his upcoming album “I’m a Doofus but The Women Love Me So Why Stop Now?” Mayer put down his guitar, scratched his butt, and said, “Yeah, Jen’s great. I’m sure she and Jesus are very happy together. With her track record, though, I hope he doesn’t dump her, too.”

The smarmy joylessness of Massachusetts has infected my very soul. I may never recover.

Kind of a false start today. Even with my new running shoes (thanks Mom), I just did not want to be at the track. It didn't help that when I turned on my iPod it told me to “Connect to Power.” Ugh. I ran about six steps, then started walking and doing arm exercises as I walked. By the time I made it one lap, it started to rain. I took that as a sign that God didn't want me to be at the track either. So I left.

In other news, today I feel weighed down with about 540 pounds of “I hate Massachusetts” malaise. FM!

Too many days away from the track and whew boy did I feel it!

1×400@3:05

1×200@1:44

2×100@?:??

Was coughing fit to beat the dog by the time I left. Uck.

On Friday I decided I couldn't stand my office another minute, so got to work mucking it out and rearranging. Time well spent. Then on Saturday, I dug through my half of the closet and most of my dresser drawers and donated the resultant eight kitchen garbage bags full of clothes to Goodwill. We have a new Goodwill in my town and I'm an avid shopper there — have bought a bunch of great clothes for the boys as well as a couple of cute things for myself. Last week I used my “avid reader” card, which gets me one free book a month. The book I picked up was from the organizer of that TV show “Clean House” and it details how to divest yourself of excess stuff, and why.

I'm not done yet, but I'm a lot closer, and the house is looking a lot better than it used to! I even dug all the books and magazines out from under my bed last night. It helped to have a package of baby-wipes nearby to wipe the lint and dust off the books and my hands.

I have a book of cartoons called “The New England Experience.” Monstro noticed it on my bookshelf.

“The New England Experience,” he said. “You open the book and it punches you in the face. And then it rains.”