Whew! End of the week and boy am I bushed but why? Could’ve been those 5 houseguests we had last weekend, though they were easy, as houseguests go. I mean nobody woke up crying or spilled his milk or fell down the stairs which happens routinely when the little people stay over. Still, I was dead by the time they left.
Hmmm. Maybe it was washing all their linens afterward, or setting out six meals – though our girl Annie made the best meal FOR us ahead of time to spare her poor parents the work: two giant glass casseroles of Baked Ziti as only Annie can make that dish with homemade everything; she practically made the Pyrex dishes the ziti sat in. (This is Annie peeking around in front of her man. She’s actually 5’ 9’’ but he’s Paul Bunyan sized enough so she looks small in comparison.)
Or maybe it was getting the news Tuesday that Annie’s big sister Carrie is carrying an actual baby girl, as the 19-week ultrasound revealed. (And here we were thinking it would be all boys all the time in that house! I was so emotional learning that the child was perfect and calm and even seemed to be doing the Sunday crossword in there, I just leaked tears all day.) Or was it when Carrie grew so sick Wednesday with a hellish unstoppable cough? I ended up dropping everything to bring her to the Urgent Care people where they loaded her up with no fewer than three pregnancy-approved meds, including a sort of hookah every bit as fancy as the one the caterpillar had in the Alice in Wonderland.
I guess it could have been attending Parents Night at the high school Thursday night in place of Hazees’s mom who couldn’t get to the big ABC Family Weekend ’til the following day. More on that another time but this is Hazees a year ago now when he was a brand-new scholar with this Program that means so much to me. The big guy holding him was just making a point about his size. (He’s much bigger now!)
It could also be the fact that when David and I and our 5 houseguests went hiking high in the mountains last Saturday, the One Who Knows All About Mushrooms departed the trail, billygoated down a super-steep incline at the bottom of which lay a dry riverbed spiky with rocks, all in order to get to a giant rare mushroom. He went to lean his weight against the 50 foot tree beside the mushroom only to see the thing just plain fall over – the tree fell over, pitching him forward into the ravine.
“J-o-o-o-o-h-n!” we all yelled.
Everyone but his wife, that is. She’s well accustomed to his fungal mania. Her remark: “Let’s just pray he’s not the one holding the car keys.” In case he we couldn’t get him back up, see
Major Calm I call that. Maybe I’ll have it in my next life.