It Was One of Those Days

What is one of those days? Well, I think it's when you get up in the morning, you do stuff, then you go to bed that night.

First things first, though. I made my swimsuit Sunday, and I figured it would be in the pool by 3:00 p.m. I'm silly like that, though.

Words to the wise: Don't make stitching mistakes when you're using a stretch stitch, because they're awfully difficult to remove. If you lose your seam ripper and have hunted through all of the debris in your sewing space, check your mouth, because it may be that thing sticking out the front of your face, partially blocking your view while you search. Don't start cutting the pieces for the leggings when you hang up the phone from an emotionally charged call. You might forget you were going to lengthen the waist/ride, then you'll have to cut a strip of fabric to seam onto the waist and act like that's what you'd meant to do all along. Finally, if you're planning an elasticized waist, buy elastic. Otherwise, you'll be consigned to using the leftover elastic from your sugarplum's dresses, and it's about 3/4 the size of embroidery floss. Not good.

So at 5:30 on Sunday, beneath cloudy skies, that new suit took a dip. When thunder rumbled, it scurried back to the house, where it remained during a cool, cloudy, windy Monday.

Late this morning, Kandi called just as I was headed out the door to vacuum from the pool two truckloads of debris from the surrounding counties, so I stopped and talked with her for a goodly bit, then suggested she and her crew come for a swim around 2:00, because it would take me 30 to 45 minutes to vacuum, then I'd need to feed our bammy and the boys. An hour and 40 minutes later, I was finished vacuuming. Hey, I don't know why the pump stopped sucking. I know I got at least 4 fly bites while trying to figure it out, but I hadn't yet acquired on this day something to whine about (we can't have a whine-free day), so it wasn't all bad. Vacuuming finally finished, I had 10 minutes to sit on my perch and catch my breath before our friends arrived. We used to be neighbors, but 3½ miles separate us now, and while that's pretty neighborly in an international sense, we've dropped the neighbor tag in favor of friends.

I went to greet the crew and was still on the ground when I saw that little blond head descending the ladder into the pool. "STOP THAT ONE! STOP THE ONE ON THE LADDER! STOP HIM!" All eyes moved to the crazy lady in the yard. "It may be over Brenden's head."

"It's okay," Kandi said. "He can swim." She was right (but she didn't have to look at me like I'm a nutcase). Recovering from the ruckus I'd created, child-chatter took up again, and Brenden swam away like a small bass. Who knew? And who knew he grew several inches this year? Plenty of airspace for Brenden above his little, inundated shoulders. Go givin' an old lady a heart attack.

I told Kandi, "There are too many heads out there. I'm having trouble keeping track of whether or not they're all above water and breathing."

Yes, you were seeing double. They're Michael and Jason. Those poor little boys probably tire of me saying, "Let me see your face." Or, "Wait a minute. Where's the other one?" then I look for the comparison face, because I don't know which one I'm talking to until I've seen the other. I suppose I could just ask them which they are, as if that would be any more rude than the rigors I put them through, trying to avoid that. If I had any sense, I'd make them stand side-by-side when they arrive, and memorize their clothes: "Okay, Michael is red today, and Jason is white."


Jason and Pierre were first out of the pool and shivered together under the sun while they dried.


Pierre was determined to kiss Erin's nose.


Kandi was determined to not let me take her picture. Thanks, Kandi.


Of course, Kandi was shooting with abandon.


Admittedly, I was dodging her attempts as well, yet she finally got one...and laughed uproariously when she viewed it. "Kandi, that better not show up online!" I greatly fear she won't obey. She was also receiving text messages while we visited, and I thought she was viewing another when her phone was in her face again, yet I quipped, "Don't go aiming your phone at me too!" thinking I was being quite clever in my oh-so-bossy way.

I wasn't amused when I learned she WAS taking pictures of me with her phone, and she'd captured another laugher which she assigned to my phone number, so she'll see it any time I call. "Listen," she said. "It could be worse. I was going to use the one I took of your toes." Kandi needs therapy.

We'll let it slide, because she brought me a dress she'd picked up for me. I didn't take a picture of it, because it's just like my other dresses I like so well. Envision an 8th fabric choice, and you've seen it. "You know I love these things. Thank you."

Kandi also brought me a book she'd picked up at the library sale. She'd mentioned a few months ago having bought a book for me, "...because it immediately made me think of you." And she wouldn't stop laughing. She laughed. And she laughed. Then she laughed some more. "KANDI! STOP LAUGHING! WHAT IS IT?!"

After a game of tag to dry her dripping children, Kandi was determined to take a picture of the kids by our NottaLotta sign, as if this 3-mile outing was an event. We couldn't find the twins, until I finally remembered one had asked me if he could go gather eggs. Hollering that direction for them, they emerged from the coop with 3 eggs and tales of being repeatedly bitten by the chicken sitting on the rest of them. Sorry.


Kandi's much younger than I, and her 5 are all still at home. Poor girl is still under the illusion that she can/must keep her ducks in a row, so she ordered that photo pose, which just didn't feel right to my old, weathered self, in my 3/5 empty nest.

"Okay, now scramble, kids," I called out. I got my shot.


Kandi took over again.


Then I got my shot.

Kandi and crew headed home, and Son3 and I went back to the pool. I walked my laps, while he kept me company. Soon he was to leave for some tea, and I climbed out to drip and toast my legs. I picked up that book, "I Try to Behave Myself," and began reading. I couldn't put it down. Couldn't. It may well be the funniest tome I've ever consumed, and I might still be out there reading, if I hadn't discovered that tickle on my arm was a furry, black spider.

I took cloud pictures in the evening, and you can be sure I'll make you look at them if any are blog-worthy.

It was one of those days. I got up, I did stuff, and I went to bed.

And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching. ~Hebrews 10:24, 25