We tried speed.
I got invited to a "goddess party" which some chick is having on her party (pontoon) boat on the full moon evening. The only catch is that guests are supposed to wear something white and if it is flowing (like chardonnay?) that is even better. White isn't me (black is) and when I want to lighten up I go for brown or navy, but that being said, I coincidentally dug out every single white top that I bought but never got brave enough to wear in the last 15 years and brought them with me to utopia thinking this would be my summer of boldly wearing white. I did it, like three times, maybe and then I ran back to the safety of my dark wardrobe. The sentry is going to this party too, and she insisted I had to wear a white DRESS (oh for goodness sakes!) so I hopped onto my nemesis, the internet for shopping, and ordered up a white dress. It came the other day and surprise surprise Evan and Josh managed to agree on something! They both think I look like a big marshmallow in it! Now my only question is, should I be a party pooper and dress normal for me or should I carry a sharpened stick and play it up with chocolate and graham cracker accessories?
Josh finally told me why he is afraid to go into the utopian lake, and it has nothing to do with what I suspected, which was one kid telling far fetched snapping turtle stories. Instead, Josh had a dream about being stranded on our sinking water trampoline and crocodiles were surrounding him while he had to make a panic ridden swim to the dock.
scene: Me and Ev are in laundry room pulling his wet brown moldy camp clothes out of his duffel bag and discussing the miracle of the heavy duty setting on the washing machine.
We picked Matt up yesterday for his 36 hour between camp session break and headed for the city of brotherly love.
You know how other's people's kids always seem to get those concepts that your own kids struggle with? Like your neighbor's grass is greener, except in my case it's true because my stepford neighbor has the people with the industrial strength chemicals treat her lawn a few times a year. (Go cancer!)
Whoever designed bugs to harden into wiper fluid proof cement blobs on a windshield in half the time it takes for this driver to reach for the wiper control and attempt to de-bug the windshield clearly has it out for me.
Ooops. Didn't post yesterday. Almost didn't post today either. Yesterday Pal was here, and today it's Wildmom and her Wildkids. So pretty much, for the last two days I had a reality person to tell everything to and I kind of almost ditched you internet. I guess I'm one of those girls. Sorry.
Scene: son stands on utopian waters edge watching mother canoe towards him while cute fluffy devil dog swims steadfastly behind.
This spring Evan and I went to kayak demonstration where we got try out and choose kayaks to buy. I chose the recreational (large hole/easy entry) style of kayak. Recreational is code for "middle aged person is comfortable getting out of" and Evan chose the more sportier "touring" (small hole) type, where touring means "must be thin and limber to enter and exit gracefully."