Pics of BBQ Action and such.

Aunts, Uncles, Great-grandparents, and such. Plus, a cat or two thrown in.

Jo’s younger brother Chris has the ringtone on his phone set to the “La-ow, laow, laow” of a feline in heat, and it never fails to attract attention to his pants from both animal and human alike.

“Aw, they are SO in love” is one that I keep hearing, which is absolutely true and absolutely awesome.

Helping the boy with a black bracelet that he borrowed from Chris’s girlfriend Sharnie (while ignoring Uncle Chris telling him that he can only wear it on his arm if somebody has died).

Keeping our li’l rugrat from eating much, MUCH, more than her share of the snacky goodness. I’m not sure what she was doing that was so funny, but she’s so damn cute I’m pretty sure that I look like that 90% of my day.

Heh, ‘course the other 10% I’m yelling something at her and making some sort of “ogre” face.

A very sweet and candid moment. I’m not sure, but it could be pictures like this that kept the Department of Immigration from asking too many questions about the “true and sincere nature of our relationship.”

Though Jo’s mum says things like, “Oh, they’re at it again. STOP IT, the neighbors can SEE you!” she did remark that Jo’s grandmother said something along the lines of, “Oh, isn’t that nice” while witnessing our schmoopieness.

Brother-in-law Chris, one of my most favorite people here, and his long-time girlfriend Sharnie, one of my MOSTEST favorite people here for sure.

A nice shot of the city from the train, though the more impressive buildings from downtown were cut off the side.

When she’s too quiet for too long, it’s time to start worrying… but when you find something like this it absolutely melts you in your boots.

A rainy and crappy day means cleaning usually, but sometimes it means play, and naturally I’m all for that. We generally enjoy it when daddy puts on the radio and dances with us while giving in to our chants of “Take a picture daddy!”

Serious cleaning and/or fix-it work calls for the overalls and bandana outfit. Georgia decided that she’d like a hat like mine so I gave her my spare “Australia bandana,” and she’s so damn cute in it we can’t stop taking pictures of her (though her Nanny thinks we should both now have Harleys).

An extremely common sight in our house.

Melbourne Cup Day is quite an event over here and, though I’d never even heard of it, it is referred to as “The Race that Stops a Nation.”

If any of the shops were actually open, they had a television on and were ready for the action.

Nanny and Poppy (my in-law’s next door) have a nice lunch, grill up some food, and everybody dresses as purdy as possible, including hats for the girls (though Jo wasn’t hip to that action and compromised with a flower). Throw in a buck or two and you can pick a horse to cheer on. Mine was “Portland Singa” or something like that, and the old nag was in first or second for almost the ENTIRE race before crapping out at the end.

“Makybe Diva” won it for the third year in a row, something that’s never been done before nor is likely to be copied anytime in our lifetimes.

Naturally, that was Nanny’s horse. House makes the rules, I guess. ‘Least Georgia’s horse got second…

Me and Jo are all about gettin’ the hotness on, for any ol’ reason whatsoever.

Our little Pie-pie with her “Poppy.” Even he had a hat on for Melbourne Cup, though I was mildly disappointed that it wasn’t his “Davey Crockett” Coon-skin one that he will occasionally wear to golf.