Yeeps! What a Miserable First Day for Spring Break.

That's got to be "spring" as in "spring a leak" and "break" as in "break in the dam".

The rain woke me up this morning, scarcely an hour after my husband finally came to bed saying I needed to wake him at eight so he could pack all the stuff for a two day camping trek. OK. I tried to sleep, but my mind was troubled and the caffeine I had foolishly consumed at the community service fellowship last night was gurgling through my brain.

So I got up. Just in time to hear the first alarm clock go off.

Did I say alarm clock? I meant cell phone alarm...much louder and more demanding.
I ran into the kitchen and turned it off, stumbling over a mountain of camping gear--backpacks, sleeping bags, stoves, lanterns, and first aid kits--then dashed back for day clothes. In a few minutes I was back, stumbling over a heap of old buckskinning stuff in the hall--deer skins, black powder pouches made of leather and fringes, and a long coat made out of a Hudson Bay blanket. I made fresh coffee and stumbled to the computer, determined to catch up on my e-mail, devotional, and blogging time. Another loud alarm. It was my husband's cell phone, ringing somewhere in the vicinity of the toaster. I got it. A few minutes later an alarm rang from--strangely enough--the floor. After the third ring, I found it behind the computer desk. It was my son's. I know it sounds impossible, but we live in a crazy house. I recognized it as the one that had awakened me at around 10:30 the night before and been shut off in the process of my trying to figure out how to open it--it's a sliding one, tricky for over fifty-year old fingers that had been asleep beside their owner. So does anybody know why it was in my room? Maybe hubby had mistaken it for his, which was now ringing again loudly--I hate snooze buttons! So I woke him up. He took one look at the rain and said he should probably sleep another hour. I let him...ntil the phone rang--the real phone. It was the pastor of the church that was hosting the youth camp (at which my husband and son were supposed to speak and lead the worship time). He said the water main at the camp was broken and they were going to hold the camp at the church. Ok. So is all the camping stuff moot? Not by a long shot.

It turns out that all my husband's lessons for the camp were connected to the stuff, kind of a show and tell, so it all still had to go. First, he wanted me to reword the notes he had printed off for the students. (They had turned out to be 17 pages long.) I reminded him that the students would have young eyes and would not need everything to be typed in size 14 and 16 font. I rewrote the stories, streamlining and surreptitiously sneaking in lots of blanks in the "student notes". That will make them listen. The guys needed to leave at noon. We found duffel bags, toiletries, jeans, shirts, etc. and threw them in. At eleven fifty-five we were trying to fit it all into the pickup cab. (The rain, remember). Finally, they gave up and took my car. That way there would be room for the guitar.

When they left I collapsed...well, first I put a load of laundry in and a load of dishes. That's my self-imposed pre-requisite for collapsing.

It was still dripping....still is for that matter.
But oh the flower buds on the little tree outside look lovely, and I saw two squirrels on the lawn. My stay-at-home daughter is making scones with raisins.
Time for a good book and a cup of Earl Grey Tea in a quiet house.
Yes. Life is grand.