Highlights

It’s been a weekend. A weekend it’s been. It’s only Saturday night, and I’ve had enough for a whole week.

Friday… Friday…. That was yesterday, right? Yes, yesterday. Honey and Jake left on a hog-hunting trip. I’m not sure whether they actually expected to kill any hogs, or if that was just a possible side-effect of a guys weekend. They took a a cooler full of goodies to make breakfast for the troupe of other familial males they were meeting, and I ‘threw in’ a big batch of homemade brownies and spice cookie bars. (By the time I got all the food packed, I wanted to go along!) They stopped by the sports and outdoors store on the way out of town for ‘supplies,’ which includes things like snake-bite boots for a boy who will wear them once before growing out of them, ammunition for the four guns they packed, and probably a few other ‘necessary’ items. They are on the way home now, and I’m hoping they haven’t replaced all that good food I sent with a nasty old wild hog for me to cook. Jake was terribly excited to be going on his first guy weekend, especially when it involved guns, so he’ll probably have a lot to tell me when he gets back.

(On a related aside… I had my first barbacoa taco this morning. Yum. Thank you to those folks who convinced me to try the 'mystery meat.')

The remaining two boys and I attended a wedding shower last night, the highlight for me being when I convinced, for a moment, two of my citified friends that I had actually milked a cat to provide food for Petunia the pet possum. (I included a demonstration with hand gestures.) Oh, how I rolled with laughter at the expression on their faces. It’s not hard to shock and awe the city folk, fer sher. L. O. L.

Last night, I stayed up too late loading apps on my phone. Do you ever do that? Late at night, lying in bed, you find all kinds of cool apps, only to get up the next morning with $8 worth of charges for ridiculous programs that you don’t need. What made you think they were so great the night before? Fatigue? New rule: No app loading after midnight. It’s just not safe.

The rest of the night was restless due to my extremely itchy allergy eyes that I rubbed in my sleep, and I woke up looking like I had been in the boxing ring. I haven’t been able to wear contacts for a week or two now, but at least the glasses hide the puffy, black circles. I’ll be very glad when these trees settle back down and stop spreading their seed.

This morning, Levi and I were up and out early for a baseball game. I worked in the concession stand, and provided some entertainment for the other volunteer parents by tripping on a concrete step and landing on my hands and one knee on the ground. That’s okay, though… I needed a big bruise on my right knee to match the one on the other leg that I got from trying to unload a very heavy cooler from the back of the truck. The wrist bruise was just a bonus, and we had some good laughs over it.

About halfway through the game, one of my cousins unexpectedly walked up to the window. Her grandson was on the opposing out-of-town team, so we had a nice surprise visit. I watched the rest of the game with her on the visitor’s side, where I received numerous puzzled looks for cheering the home team. The third baseman on Levi’s team looked at me like I’d lost my marbles, wondering why I was on the wrong side of the field. Thankfully, our teams were tied when time ran out, so we remained undefeated, and neither me nor my cousin had to deal with the guilt of happily beating the other’s team. It was a nice compromise.

I had a thirty minute nap before moving on to our next escapade, a birthday party for a little ray of sunshine. It was a princess party, and I must admit, I got a little excited when I heard there was a piñata. I was hoping for a big Cinderella, busted open and spilling out candy, but, alas, it was a castle. I don’t guess most parents are quite that morbid, but I guarantee, everyone would have enjoyed a Cinderella piñata, whether they are willing to admit it or not.

Back at home, we had to round up a bunch of chickens that had been shut out of their pen and were roosting in the barn. That means I got to climb on a pail, grab a chicken, (who would claw my arms and flap her wings violently, hurling dander, dust, pollen, mites, and who knows what else directly into my already miserable eyes) and carry it into the coop.

If you’ve never been around sleeping chickens, they are funny. It’s like they’re in a trance. When I set them down in the coop, they don’t even put their legs down, just lay right on their breast. They get up after a few seconds of looking dazed, and walk around, confused. Eventually, they fly up onto a roost, but it’s like they’re drugged. That’s exactly why you move them at night, instead of chasing them around the barnyard during the day.

Now, the kids are in bed, the pollen has been removed from all the external surfaces of my body, and I’m drinking a cup of herbal tea that I’m hoping will make me sleep hard enough that I won’t rub my eyes tonight. I’m ready to take my bruised, clawed, swollen, itchy-eyed, beaten-looking self to bed. Right after I have one, er, two more peppermint patties.

Stick a fork in me, I’m done.