I am still in that post-houseguest haze of deferred chores and overtired children. We had such a great time and really a wonderful visit, but I am just wiped out. I know Wendy was, too, and she has a fifteen hour car ride to get home. Yikes.
Today Grace starts a week-long Fine Arts Day Camp held at our church, which is about a twenty minute drive from our house. My original protestations for making this drive were met with reassurances from my husband that, 1) since the camp is held at his place of employ, and 2) he will be employed with the task of helping with the camp, that she would just ride with him. Unfortunately, about a week after camp registration, he found out he would be leaving town for the majority of this week, so guess who gets to spend 40 minutes twice a day in the car! ME! And my unsuspecting children! Woo-hoo!
Meanwhile, a glance at the calendar tells me that there are only four weeks left of summer vacation. Four weeks! This summer has just flown by. I haven't had time to do all of the 'Country-time Lemonade commercial' things that I plan to do every year, so I better get started. I just need to find a farm where the kids can ride bikes and run barefoot down dirt roads and play with a water hose and jump out of hay-lofts and drink refreshing ice cold Country-time on a red checkered picnic blanket served by their smiling, apron-clad mom.
The only problems (other than the absence of farmland here in the city) are that 1)I don't own a pretty apron and 2) it's 105 degrees outside right now, and if we performed those activities in real life, we would probably have to call 911 due to heat stroke.
So maybe I'll just bring a jug of lemonade next time we go to the city pool. Or better yet, drink the lemonade while hiding from the heat in my climate-controlled kitchen. Not quite the same, is it?
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