I have so many trivial items to report this week that it's difficult to know where to begin. I mean seriously, I’m thinking this post will be more like a book. I do apologize in advance.
Chapter One:
I guess we can start with the progress of the excavation work "down under". This phase of the project was slated to last a week. We are now into our 3rd week with no sign of the end. I believe this is normal? One of the difficulties with this kind of project is that you have no reference points. Because how often do you dig a big hole under your two-story house? So we wonder...are our walls supposed to be developing those serious cracks? Should the floors shake this much? (I’m banning those informal cheer sessions in the house until further notice.) And what about those ominous noises and smells drifting up from below while the crew is at work? Should the sound of shattering glass worry me? I just don’t know.
Meanwhile, Dave reports that the crew members seem inordinately interested in his pumpkin patch. One even took a picture of one of the pumpkins and showed it to Dave. You can imagine his distress over this development. Are they planning a raid some dark night? Even if they aren't that unscrupulous, are they showing the picture to others who are? Or are they just hinting that Dave SHARE his bounty with them? If they only understood the emotional bond he has with his produce, they would surely stop torturing him.
Chapter Two:
So Emily and I spent Labor Day weekend with some friends out in Durango and Pagosa Springs. While there, our friends hinted at doing some sightseeing, like going out to Purgatory or exploring some ruins. But we managed to dodge their attempts to schedule anything more strenuous than shopping and eating. Definitely my kind of vacation.
Unfortunately, my relaxation was interrupted every time I called home and heard how Dave was faring with the management of the household and my other two children. Here is only a partial listing of the disturbing things that happened while I was gone: (1) David lost his phone and had a girl in his bedroom; (2) Rachel and David hosted a wild party with youth rally boys from out of town; (3) they watched Zoolander (which we all know is trash); and (4) they let the clothes in the washing machine mildew. I’m not sure I can ever leave them alone again.
Chapter Three:
Then last weekend we headed to the Kansas State Fair with a random mix of family members...my sister and brother and some assorted nieces and nephews. My brother always plans this outing...I think for the nostalgia factor because we always went as kids. The rest of us go for the food and free stuff. We scored the usual wooden nickels, yardsticks and toothpick dispensers. But new freebies this year included FULL SIZE PACKAGES OF CRACKERS, DODGE T-SHIRTS, and SALT BLOCKS. Needless to say, we had a good time.
Chapter Four:
David continues to burn the candle at both ends by running cross country AND playing football. In high school, he'll have to choose one or the other and we are leaning toward the cross country career. Because let's face it...you gotta love a sport where you come in 11th and everyone thinks you did great, And football is losing points with us because even when he does something good, like catch a pass, the announcer says it was Luis Sanchez. And he looks nothing like Luis Sanchez.
Socially I worry about the boy, even though he tries to reassure me that my fears are ungrounded. For instance, when he told me the other day that he was invited to a party for next weekend, naturally I asked if it was a drinking party. And he said, "Mom, they don't pass out polk-a-dotted invitations to drinking parties." And I felt relieved, but still.
In band-related news, David and Rachel co-wrote their first song in the car the other night, and I believe it's called "Firenze." And David asked us to buy him a capo. So even though they still haven't had a practice, I believe the band is alive and well.
Chapter Five:
Rachel has spent this weekend taking our blood pressure and checking our pulse and respirations. This is homework for her CNA class. While she was taking my blood pressure, she asked me to hold the gauge. I told her no nurse had ever asked me to hold something while taking my blood pressure and she said they were taught to do that with old people because old people like to have something to do. I was slightly offended. And my blood pressure was 110 over 70. Oddly enough, she then took Dave's and his was...that's right..110 over 70. Quite the coincidence, eh? And was it my imagination or did she leave the cuff on me a bit long just to see if I'd crack under the pressure? I mean I'm pretty sure I lost the feeling in my hand and she giggled (somewhat sadistically) when I asked her about it. But I guess they have to practice on someone, and I'm sure she'll make a fine CNA.
And we're all breathing a sigh of relief around here because she might have found a guy willing to do the Nutcracker dance with her. The search has been difficult because not only does she need someone willing, but he also has to be able to lift a 115 pound girl over his head without looking unduly strained. And strangely enough, most guys who can do that kind of lifting are a bit skittish about agreeing to be in a ballet. What's up with that?
Chapter Six:
Emily has had a busy day. She worked from 10-2 at the dress shop, came home and designed a lovely fall yard scene with some of Dave's pumpkins, three hay bales, and my potted geraniums, and worked on her Africa power point. Then she left for a birthday slumber party, but she's already returned, dressed in a strange sort of toga, asking for a brown egg for a scavenger hunt. I asked no questions, and fortunately I have lots of brown eggs because I buy them from a friend who has chickens.
Also, Emily has been enjoying her weights class, where they just finished a unit on Sweatin' to the Oldies with Richard Simmons. Education has certainly changed sinced my days in PE where we just did situps and pushups and jumping jacks.
As you may be able to guess, I don't have much on Emily today. Mainly because her love life, or really her texting love life, has slowed down lately. She is only sustained by Mary's weekly calls with questions from OC boys who are thinking of dating her next year. If you think this is strange, you are like me.
Chapter Seven:
Dave gave me a Currier & Ives gravy bowl for our anniversary...which is today by the way. And I love it. He also wrote me a poem, which he does every year, but this time he changed it up a bit and didn't try to rhyme anything. Which was a neat twist...and a welcome one. I have not quite finished my shopping for him, which is unfortunate because the stores in our small town are all closed. Sadly, this will not bother Dave. He is just happy to have me. Perhaps I should get him a gift certificate for some counseling?
Chapter Eight:
And finally, me. I have been eating a lot of fried zucchini lately. And sometimes I fry it up in bacon grease. I'm no nutritionist but I feel there's a chance my recent weight gain is tied to my diet. And I guess I might have high cholesterol...if you can put any faith in those blood tests. So every night now, Dave brings me two giant frozen fish oil pills and 3 other large white capsules (unidentified), and makes me swallow them. He says they will help with the cholesterol thing, and I hope he's right because I don't think I can kick the zucchini habit. At least not until he stops bringing in bags of it from our garden.
Chapter Nine:
I had a turkey and cheese sandwich on sourdough bread for lunch.
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