Sunday, August 10, 2008
Outer Banks Vacation
The following was written by Chesapeake Bay Mother about events that transpired prior to arriving at the Chesapeake Bay Family Outer Banks, North Carolina, vacation.
"At six something, Husband woke me to complete the last-minute preparations for a long-awaited three days away from Home Sweet Home.
Among the chores to be completed:
- Feed and water dogs, cats, ducks, goose;
-Conduct last-minute litter pan changes;
- Taxi dogs to "Gone to the Dogs" boarding kennel;
- Provide kennel-cough vaccination proof;
- Haul backwards out of kennel denting Nice Lady's car;
- Exchange insurance info with Nice Lady;
- Once home, do final A/C adjustments (CBW's Editorial Note: The air conditioning adjustments were not for the house, they were for a side porch on which she kept several hundred cats for the 3 days she was going to be away. She installed not one, but two window units to ensure the cats were cool enough. Mind you, she does not even have two window units in the portion of the house SHE lives in, but this is neither here nor there);
- Try to load bags, losing favorite shoes in process;
- Look 20 minutes for shoes;
- Husband finds them;
-We're off to the beach.
- 30 minutes from home, remember I left hose running in the duck bucket.
- Husband pulls over in Historic Yorktown and calls friend to take care of that and
- We're off again.
Peace. Away. Beach. Hamburger. (CBW Note: Not to be confused, at all, with the raw hamburger we placed in Vegetarian Guest's bed.) Broken tooth. And we are writing our journal and remember that we can't recall turning off yet another hose (this one yellow) used for watering petunias and the flock of sixty wild geese who come to the back door complaining about the lack of water in this weather - we never get a break. All this and the day is still young. Just don't ask for whom the bell tolls, I don't want to know.
Later that day: One broken molar on the left that I prayed about last night now has another little Broken Friend on the right. I'm praying the fillings still clinging remain to prevent throbbing agony of an exposed nerve or nerves. Eating is no longer an option, but that is a blessing considering I have contracted Montezuma's Revenge * somewhere, somehow. "Oh Death, where is thy sting?!" (That Shakespeare sure could hit the hammer on the finger.)
Youngest Daughter has unending back pain. Stay tuned, there's always the remote possibility this could all end badly.
* In case you don't know, Montezuma's Revenge is the revolt of your gastrointestinal tract against something you drank or ate that "wasn't quite right." Mine is a weapons grade exhaust....I believe I am blowing straight "yellow cake" now. Somehow my body has managed to manufacture uranium."
- Chesapeake Bay Woman's Mother
Greetings, folks. After that last paragraph, complete with the lovely asterisk and uranium reference, as if we don't already know what Montezuma's Revenge is, I must now crawl under the covers, pull them over my head, and remain that way until the year 2045. Please put this in a time capsule and label it: Way Too Much Information To Be Handled In The Year 2008.
-Chesapeake Bay Woman