Each year it amazes me how full my weeks become once work ends and the summer begins. Summer is suppose to be a time of leisure, a time of catching up on sleep, a time of I'll-get-to-it-when-I-feel-like-it. It's been anything but. If this is what retirement holds, I think I'll just keep working, it's less taxing on me.
So, where to begin. Do I give you a complete rundown of all the happenings since June 3? Or, do I just start from this point and move forward, leaving you hanging, wondering just what the heck has kept me so busy? I think I'll blend the two and give you a Reader's Digest version of my past two and a half weeks.
Week one was full of prepping, cooking, cleaning, and entertaining out of town guests. Week two and a half was full of this deliciousness:
Seriously, could you turn your attention away from something so adorable?
Rocket Man and Daughter left on Friday, it was a sad day in Mudville. I told you back in April that I wasn't in a hurry back then to get the house back in order after they left, it was different this go 'round. The long drive from DFW, with Miranda Lambert and George Strait singing their sad country tunes, had me bawling my eyes to the point it was kind of hard to drive. I decided that any reminders would be more than this old heart could bear. So like taking a Band-Aid off, I did it quick and fast. The house looks like no one ever came to visit. But I'm still missing them something awful.
I have to share one experience from week one. I was mortified but I laugh each time I think about it.
Over the weekend of June 8 we had our semi-annual stake conference. This time instead of one visiting general authority staying with us we had two. Not a problem, what's one more guest when you're already stressed to the max.
It's June, we live in Texas, it's hot, right? Hot equals running the air conditioner twenty four hours a day...and this is where my little experience began and ended. Because the air ran day and night I worried that it might quit working while we had guests, a fate worse than death in my book, guests or no guests. On Friday or Saturday night, I don't recall which night I've been so traumatized by my experience, I woke up hearing the air conditioner running and running and running and running. The dang thing had not cycled off in what seemed like the entire night. Fearing that it had locked up and was on the verge of complete failure, I got up and walked down the hall, being ever so quiet so as not to awaken our slumbering guests, I used my iPhone's screen glow as my flashlight, again not wanting the glare of the hall light filtering under the doors to disturb our guests. As I approached the thermostat the screen went dark, I pushed the needed button to get the screen on again except this time, how it happened I have no idea, the danged iPod feature also came on blaring out George Strait telling me to write it down. I have a passcode on my phone, need I say more. Of course I couldn't punch it in fast enough to shut George up. After fumbling around for what seemed like an eternity, George quit telling me to write it down and I got the air to cycle off but I couldn't get myself to move. I was frozen in place listening, praying neither of my guests nor Hank would be awakened by my little escapade.
If our guests heard George in the middle of the night they never said a word about it, they were the perfect guests. I know Hank was completely oblivious to the entire incident and still would be had I not told him about it. He laughed, as I do now. At the moment it happened I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Ah, what memories.