Uninvited Guests

Lucy: Hurry up Ethyl, the coast is clear for now. You know how it's like grand central station around here with all the people they got living in that house, you think that lady would have learned about birth control.

Ethyl: Give it a break Lucy.Maybe they are Catholic, you know the big Irish family thing? What about that big black monster, any sign of him?

Lucy: This stuff is so yummy. Those stinkin' birds don't need all of this. Ethyl, quit looking like a deer in the headlights ho.

Ethyl: I'm trying to cut back on this constant grazing. It takes a lot of exercise to work this stuff off, otherwise it goes straight to my hips.

Lucy: Do I need to remind you winter's coming and we need to plump up? Stop your whining, no buck is going to want your bony ass unless you get some meat on it.

Ethyl: Speaking of bucks, where's Ricky?You know he doesn't like us hanging in this neighborhood.

Lucy: What Ricky doesn't know won't hurt him.Don't be such a drama queen, get in here before that black monster hears us out here.

Ethyl: Can you stop stuffing your face for a minute. You watch for the attack bear why I get a few nibbles of the ground here.

Ethyl: DID YOU HEAR THAT???? Oh My God, was that him?

Lucy: I didn't hear anything. Relax, get your fiber on, girlfriend.

Ethyl: I'm telling you I hear something. LUCY... what are we going to do now? 

Big Black Bastard: I smell trouble in paradise...hmm

Lucy: RUN Ethyl RUN... RICKYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ethyl: Every man for himself! Last time that thing took a big chunk fur off of me. Hurry Lucy. I told you we should have listened to Ricky.

Big Black: It's those bird food stealing bitches, they are back again. What the hey, you had better run you heifers.

Big Black:  Don't mess with me ladies! Gonna get me some cotton tail  yet.

The Mayor: COLE!!! Leave it.

The Mayor: I said get in here, leave those deer alone. 

Big Black: What? Are you talking to me? I'm just chillin' out here.

The Baby: Mom, let him off his time out. Look at him, I'm sure he didn't mean to chase the deer.

Gramps: It ain't normal for a dog to be that big. I could have used a coon dog that size.

Sluggishly Blogging

I am so behind on writing down my thoughts for my blog because there's no rest for the wicked. Blame it on summer vacation. First of all I disagree with the assertion that there is any real kind of “vacation” going on here. That term is slung around erroniously more frequently than it is used literally.  I think I have gathered enough anecdotal evidence to support my theory that the only thing occurring is a break from the school year routine. I relished that first morning in June when the alarm did not go off at 6 a.m. and enjoyed a more leisurely pace upon rising having nowhere I had to be. We loafered around town then stopped at the market and decided what to throw on the grill that evening. I thought it felt a little bit like heaven.

I thought wrong. I’m no newbie to this so I should not be surprised by the lack of productivity going on around here. The lack of a hard timeline to each day has left us behaving like a bunch of procrastinating heathens. We stay up all night and sleep all day (that’s an exaggeration). We read, watch movies and read some more. I think I have seen every episode (from my control post in the kitchen) of One Tree Hill ever made, at least twice. Damn that DVR. Lucas, Nathan, Hailey, Brooke and Peyton, up until this summer I didn’t even know these brat pack wannabes existed.

 

Since all of my little babies have morphed into teenagers they are excelling at what adolescents do best and that is sleep. This is the first year I have not been awoken by the pitter patter of feet that are smaller than mine. The baby is now as tall as I am and I will no longer be vexed with missing shoes since they have all outgrown size 6. It’s not unusual for one of them to straggle in here at 11 or 12 p.m., after working the closing shift and enthusiastically convince us that we need to start a movie. Like fools we do and even though I may have vowed a few hours earlier to get to bed at a more decent hour, I am again looking at 1:30 bedtime.

The downside to going to bed that late is that it still takes me a while to get to sleep (insomnia is my bad best girlfriend) and when you don’t get up until 9, 10 or later, half the productive time of the day is already passed.My solitude and writing time has been overtaken by all these demanding people who are here, bothering me all of the time. That includes my husband. Again, after all the years of weekly travel his goal this year has been to cut his travel time down to 1 week a month, so he can be more involved with the family. Which means he is always here. I’ve always said honey, if it ain’t broke don’t try fixing it. I like it when you go away on a regular basis so I CAN GET STUFF DONE. All of these people are reeking havoc and disrupting the loosely woven semblance of a schedule I am trying to follow. When’s a girl supposed to write?

I thought I was so clever when I established a chore list of things I expected to be done. After all, they are the ones with the lack of things to do. As any stay at home parent knows, there is no such thing as summer vacation. Someone still needs to buy groceries, cook, garden, clean, gas up the car, run errands and to quote my beloved cousin, “the laundry does not fold itself”. Mamas got blogs to read and blogs to write. I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the level of cooperation I have received. I divide up the tasks and there may be hesitation and whining involved but the list seems to be getting done.

So far this summer we’ve made one trip to Chicago and a trek up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for a greatly anticipated family reunion of my husband’s extended family. The tale of our actual reunion is a story all on it’s own. Let’s suffice it to say that when you take your family on a trip, someone needs to make a lot of preparations and that someone is always me. There’s the reservations, laundry (which doesn’t pack itself either), map-quest, movies and stuff to occupy ourselves with in the car (do we have power cords, earphones,paper towels, barf bags, beverages and snacks, cameras). Then there’s the preparation for those you are leaving behind to hold down the fort. Lay down the law, bake some cookies, stock the fridge with food, lists of instructions and rules, alert the neighbors to call if a wild party ensues and call your prayer group ..... a never ending list.

My husband throws his clothes in his suitcase, his computer in his bag and gets in the car. He is a mobile workforce all unto himself. After a week of travel to the northern most woods, spotty internet and cell phone signals, family obligations and fun we returned in one piece to our home. We found it in pretty good shape, not perfect, but not bad either. We have been home 5 days and I think the last of the laundry just got put away. I just found out (from my snitch oldest daughter) my husband is trying to surprise me with plane tickets for us all to go to Portland before the summer is over.
 

I swear that man is trying to kill me.

This leads me to ask, exactly what is a v-a-c-a-t-i-o-n ? Webster’s defines it as the freedom from any activity, from work and study, an intermission, respite or rest. That concept is foreign to me. I’ve had a few of them in my life since parenthood and they may have been a lot of fun, but the work that goes into the preparation and recovery somehow overshadows the memory. I think I have just compartmentalized the moments of “rest, intermission or respite” that I’ve enjoyed along the way and forgotten the details that surrounded the obtainment of that freedom. If you have any doubts read Did I Say VACATION Could Bring Sexy Back? from last summer.

I have come to the realization that in order to return to the efficient machine I once was I am going to have to re-establish some discipline and routine to this company. But first things first. The girls and I are planning another road trip to Chicago. Then we are taking our yearly road trip to see my wily coyote of a daddy, Virgil (83 and still climbing mountains) in North Carolina and some more friends along the way. It will be sheer lunacy. There will be arguing and cat fighting all through those Blue Ridge Mountain passes and in the tunnels. We will make absolute spectacles of ourselves. We will make memories. We will come home exhausted from laughing and ready to scratch each others eyes out from all the petty arguments that will occur. And hopefully I’ll have documented enough events to write about for the next six months. It will be quite an excursion, but it won’t be a vacation.