A Bag of Hot Air (not meaning me)

Thanksgiving morning we woke up late. While making breakfast Kate asked, "What's that noise?" I thought it was our washing machine breaking, but she insisted that it was coming from outside. I opened the front door and stepped out to find, just fifty feet over my head, a huge air baloon. I grabbed Samantha and rushed her out to take a look. Soon Patrick appeared and we watched, and the baloonist appeared to be in distress. He was tangled in a tree in a yard next to the church. He freed himself and landed in the church parking lot. P threw on his flip flops and ran down to take a look with me hot on his tail reminding him that he was in shorts and a t-shirt. We arrived in the parking lot about the time the chase truck pulled in. They changed fuel tanks and passengers, and then took off again. It was an exciting morning for Mr.P.






Though I forgot to take the camera to Idaho, we did get some pictures on Thanksgiving.

Mac usually wear rose colored glasses for Broncos games, but since he misplaced them Samantha loaned him her shades. It didn't change his demeanor or the outcome...