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Monday, July 21, 2008

weekend snippets

We fetched LT home from camp on Saturday. Originally we were not going to have to drive any boys other than our own, but then one of the other drivers had car trouble so we ended up making the trip in my parents' van and coming home with it stuffed full of sweaty, dirty boys -- some of whom were sweatier and dirtier than others, for example my son, who took the opportunity of a week away to avoid showering for six solid days. (Really, he just smelled like camping, as far as I could tell.) (Also, this was his first encounter with group showers -- "just-- showers in a room with no stalls, Mom" -- and his reaction to this encounter was a resounding I DON'T THINK SO.) Anyway, he had a good time, and the boys were perfectly friendly to him, and he branched out in some new ways (ghost stories! Wilderness survival merit badge! Archery!), and he's looking forward to next year when maybe his Dad can go.

It's really providential when you think about it that the van waited through that 240-mile drive before it died, completely and irreversibly, a quarter-mile (a downhill quarter-mile, no less!) from the chapel where the boys were to be collected by their parents. Sigh. My poor parents. I think that's the fourth or fifth time the fuel pump has gone belly-up in their (11-year-old, 180K-mile) van.

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Sunday we had the third meeting of our new fellowship in town, and I really liked it, even better than the first one. (I wasn't at the second; see above re: driving Scouts to camp.) Afterward we headed to my parents' place for the first time in a shamefully long amount of time, where the major excitement of the day was the search for my cousin's 7-year-old daughter. She and her dad are visiting from out of state, and she got lost while she was out for a walk. My dad and brother and cousin headed in one direction in trucks, while C and I and our dog and my parents' dog and my two nephews went the other direction on foot. My nephews had never met the little girl, and C had, which played into her sense of the dramatic nicely since she could fill them in: "She's SEVEN. She is ONE YEAR YOUNGER THAN ME. She is JUST A LITTLE GIRL and she DOESN'T KNOW HER WAY AROUND HERE VERY WELL. She may have been SNAKEBITTEN or KIDNAPPED. Mom, how can you be so CALM?" We found her, safe and sound and thirsty and footsore, after a passing motorist told us she'd seen a lost little girl wandering in the same direction we were but that the little girl (understandably) would not get into a car with a stranger.

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But my prolapsing mitral valve, which had not been happy all morning yesterday, protested loudly against all the jogging I did along the road during the Very Dramatic Search Effort, and I have been maddeningly annoyed by a symptom flare-up ever since.

This drives me bananas. I am SO not the invalid type. And I hate going to the cardiologist, which is why I haven't been to see one in a couple of years, and I don't want to start going again now so just GET BETTER ALREADY.

(I have a sneaking suspicion that the fact that my pants don't fit so well anymore and the fact that my stupid heart is grumpy with me may be mysteriously related to one another. Must investigate. But not too closely. Speaking of which, anyone have any chocolate?)

Comments

Posted by: Kat with a K at July 22, 2008 07:59 AM

Posted by: Beck at July 25, 2008 07:03 PM

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