Raw Drip

I’m fairly certain that I’m not in hell despite being trapped in a small house in the woods with my family and lacking anything resembling modern convenience. I am also certain that I will find myself in a special hell set aside for urban elitists who find signs like this highly amusing.

In fact, I think this sign sums up this particular area of hell quite nicely.

After spending many hours catching up on lost sleep from Saturday’s marathon of a day, Dick and I cuddled in our plastic-covered bed listening with delight to the sounds of a grandmother trying to entertain her rambunctious grandkids.

Hearing Adam apply guilt in a shameless attempt to score pre-breakfast candy, I struggled to get out of bed. “I should go help her out. Little demons are tag-teaming her for candy…”

Dick held my wrist firm.

“No way. You’re staying here with me. How else is she going to bond with her grandkids if we keep interfering?”

“Hm. Maybe you’re on to something there…”, I said sliding back into bed, snuggling in my husband’s arms.

Dick kissed my neck and whispered, “You know what would make this perfect?”

“A bed that doesn’t sound like we’re sleeping in hazmat suits everytime we roll over? Decent coffee? WiFi?”

As his hand carressed my cheek he smiled. “I guess this is just one of those no sex, bad coffee, loud plastic-covered bed, no privacy kind of vacations.”

“Yep. So let’s stop fooling ourselves into thinking we can have sex in this ridiculously tiny, very noisy bed and go enjoy the other benefit of grandmothers…the food!”

Pancakes, fruit salad, & homemade bread. Oh my!

After many months of the relentless juggling act we all do, I think I deserve a break, right? A little respite from the routine?

Well, instead of a break I’ve decided to spend time with my family in Ohio. Here are some observations about my ‘vacation’, thus far…

- I have superhuman packing abilities (adding that to my list if superpowers later). Seriously, I rock.
- Is there a handbook for grandmothers that dictates one needs to acquire way too many kitschy framed needlepoints, and a yippy liitle dog before they can pass the granny entrance exam?
- Speaking of the yippy dog, I don’t care how gentle she usually is, she’s trying to bite my f***in’ hand off every chance she gets, so she needs to go into her little cage, or back to her lair or whereever the hell it is that little fur-covered demons live.
- Why is there highly breakable crap absolutely everywhere? It’s not like our visit was a big surprise. We’ve been planning it for 8 weeks.
- Why is it that surfaces not covered in kitschy crap are covered in plastic?
- Trust me. Coffee should be a deep brown color.

More live updates from Ohio later. Gotta run and save Tabitha from the 12-pound terror that is Frida the Mini-Schnauzer.