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|Friday 13: Photo Scavenger Hunt|
Just like yesterday there was no chance to sleep in this morning. In fact, I had my phone alarm wake me up at 6:30 again. I never mind waking up early to go shopping though. Yes, I am one of those women who will wake up at 3am to get ready just to be able to be at the stores at 5am on Black Friday (I do not shop without putting a little effort towards my appearance). I am a dedicated shopper, so 6:30 wasn’t that hard.
Packing up the truck to go home is always interesting. Somehow we’re able to get everything into the truck in a nice orderly manner before we leave for vacation. Why won’t the same amount of stuff fit when it’s time to go home? I do have to admit that there was just a leettle bit more to fit this time. Although Ashlyn’s clothes are tiny, when there are a lot of Ashlyn’s clothes they aren’t so tiny. If you know Du though, you know that he will make everything fit AND he’ll still be able to see out of the rear view mirror. Desired time of departure = 9am. Actual time of departure = 9:02am. I don’t play when shopping’s concerned.
We made it safely to Springfield after being robbed at the gas pump. I will happily pay for gas though in order to travel. We knew what we were getting ourselves into when we bought an SUV. We arrived at the most awesomely fabulous fabric store before it even opened. We did call to make sure they’d be open on Memorial Monday. Forgot it wasn’t until 11:00. I could have slept in 15 more minutes… The owner must have noticed our desperation (and the desperation of several other women who happened to show up early and be waiting in their cars–it was like it really was Black Friday) because he opened his shop early. The awesomely fabulous thing about this fabric store is that not only does he have rows and rows and rows and rows and rooms of fabric, but that it’s all priced cheaper than you could find it anywhere else. People, silk for $7.99 a yard. I know! Home dec fabric for $5.99 a yard. I know! I was trying to make up projects so I could justify purchasing a yard of every single fabric in the store. After a couple of hours and feeling up every bolt, I walked out hobbled out barely able to stand the weight of everything I bought and still spent less than $100. From now until Jesus returns you’ll find me at the sewing machine making things for my darling daughters.
Unfortunately I cannot live in that store, nor even work at it, so we had to leave to meet the guys and kids for lunch. Have you ever noticed that the best places to eat are usually a little less appealing on the visual side? This was some good barbeque. And since the establishment was no where near hoity toity Ashlyn behaved herself perfectly. Reagan managed to spill her sweet tea though.
We had to leave by 1:30 to be back in time for Reagan’s dance class. I should write a whole other post about dance moms, as I am not one of them. The only reason we even were concerned about the dance class was that this is the last class before the recital. No attendance in dance class, no participation in recital. Fair enough and it meant that we would get back at a decent hour to unpack.
Ah, unpacking, that part you dread because when you were packing all you cared about was leaving so you just grabbed things from here and there and left things strewn about not having time to clean them up, and pulling things out of this makeup case because you want to use it on the trip and leaving that stuff all over the bathroom, and we’ll just get to it when we get back. Know what I’m talking about? I should know better by now that the only thing I care about when getting back is a clean house and paying someone to unpack my bags for me. I haven’t found anyone to do that yet.
OH yes, and to prove what awesome pet owners we are I’ll end with this last story. When we were getting ready to leave we laid eyes on both cats. Having been through this before with our old cat Spaz* we knew we needed to know exactly where both cats were. Ricki* was positive she saw Fuzz* upstairs and Bo* downstairs. Lu* was positive he had seen both of them as well. So we shut the door to the guest bedroom downstairs because we didn’t want them in there causing all kinds of cat trouble. Fast forward to Day 5–we opened the door expecting to see both cats right there wailing at us for leaving them so long. Bo* was right there meowing up a storm. Where was Fuzz*? He’s usually the first one to greet Ricki* whenever she’s left the house? Could he have escaped over the weekend? Ricki* called for Fuzz* throughout the house but there was no sign for him. Wait! What was that Ricki* heard? A faint meowing that took her back downstairs. Behind that closed guest room door the meowing grew louder. Yes indeed people, Fuzz* was locked in the guest bedroom for the whole trip. After realizing that he was still mobile, in good spirits, and would indeed survive the attention was focused on the room. Where had that cat “gone” for those days? Little Fuzz* had done the best possible thing. Understanding that if starvation didn’t kill him Ricki* would he decided not to relieve himself on the bed, the carpet or any other permanent, hard to clean fixture. The poor cat had gone on an old comforter that we had tried to sell at the yard sale.
As we like to say, “all’s well that ends well.”
*As PETA is probably trolling blogs looking for people to throw paint on all names have been changed in this story, to protect the innocent and the guilty.
3 thoughts on “Arkansas Trip: Day 5 – Heading Home”
Laughing at the name changes.
Poor “Fuzz.” Glad he was OK though!
though i’m not a fan of cats, i do appreciate that they can stand much higher levels of neglect than can dogs. such as ours. for whom we have to pay our family to keep in their homes while we’re gone. looks like y’all had a great trip!
Poor, poor pitiful cat. Love his heart. I weep for him. But seeing as how we believe the initials in PETA stand for People Eating Tasty Animals, I will only grieve a second and then move on.
(Bring it on, PETA trolls…then head on over to Lulaville and bring it some more.)
I can’t wait to see what you make out of all that glorious fabric. I lose my mind in bolt stores. There’s one in Richmond called “Williams & Sherrill,” and it’s 75% staffed by gay men. And those are some fabric-loving, fabric-knowledgable, what-goes-with-what people, lemme tell ya. The few times I’ve been there I get so excited for an hour, running from bolt to bolt, oooohing and ahhhing, thinking I MUST REDO EVERYTHING IN MY 3 YEAR OLD HOUSE! Then I leave depressed, as I have no use for any of it, AND because their prices are of the frou-frou kind. Still…it’s a good high while it lasts. Sigh…