Party on, Garth

It seems like every Monday I rattle on about how busy the weekend was, but I seriously think the Hula-gen's broke a personal record this past weekend for how much we can squeeze into one weekend.  A record for the post college years anyway.  And when I woke up yesterday morning, it felt a little like college.  I think it was the dry mouth, which was probably due more to talking than it was alcohol, although I will say I found a keeper of a sangria recipe.  Thank you, Bobby Flay.  We have now determined that the maximum number of parties we can host at our house in one week is three.  We managed three, counting Hubby's regular poker get together.  A great time was had by all, and I wouldn't have changed a thing, but I definitely think four parties would have put us over the edge.  It would have at least decimated our paper plate supply I stockpiled last winter.  Thank you, Kroger clearance aisle.   

As soon as I left work Friday, I ran home and set up the man cave for a mini reunion with a few of my old elementary school buddies.  There was also a grocery store/ bakery/liquor store run squeezed in there prior to the party.  As a side note, did you know they'll carry your purchases to the car for you at the liquor store if you buy enough?  Who knew.  My school buddies arrived precisely on time, and we spent about five hours yakking and laughing and talking about old times.  They stayed so long, one of them got texts from his teenager wanting to know when mom and dad were coming home.  I love how our kids always assume we never have a social life that doesn't revolve around their activities.  It was a great visit, and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed reconnecting with old friends like that.  And we haven't changed at all, except for a couple of gray hairs here or there.  And weaker eyes.  Good times.

Before I went to bed, I made banana pudding and sangria for the next day, and Saturday morning we loaded up and headed 45 minutes north to our family reunion.  It was a good time with family.  And ham.  A lot of ham.  And dumplin's.  And desserts.  We raced back home, set up our patio furniture as we had disassembled the patio the day before when the concrete man suddenly called after weeks of phone tag and said he was coming to stain the concrete.  Thank you, concrete man.  Then my cousins came and swam and drank and ate and talked.  And talked.  And talked.  We had another great time.  By the time we finished cleaning up, it was late, so Hubby and I dropped into bed and arose in time to go to church yesterday morning.  Yesterday went like this:  Church, lunch, photo shoot, change clothes, set up for second photo shoot, second photo shoot, clean up mess, pop popcorn and plop down onto the couch.  Finally.  At 9:07pm.  It was a blur.  A good one, but a blur nonetheless.  Which brings us to today.

I'm so pooped I didn't even run at lunch.  Of course it was 92 degrees outside, so it didn't take much to kill my motivation to exercise, despite the fact that my body is begging to be purged of all the grease and fat and alcohol I had over the weekend.  Is it possible to feel puffy and dehydrated at the same time?  Of course, the swelling in my feet could be from standing on them so long this morning at the county fair.  I stopped by there to drop off a couple of photos for their arts and crafts competitions and was met with the line from hell and back.  I was right behind the valedictorian of crafts who literally brought the maximum number of entries for every category they had.  The line was as constipated as my Aunt Tilly.  I waited and waited while she filled out a card for every stinkin' item and then left her husband in that line with her stuff while she jumped to another line to clog it up with sewing items.  Her daughter was in a third line with her seasonal crafts.  I slowly watched my lunch hour and break times for the day slip away, and after the third time of taking a deep breath and counting to ten I figured I should just leave and come back.  Besides, the mean part of me was on the verge of screaming, "I've seen bible school kids make better candles than you!"  An hour and a half later, when I dropped back by there, she had just finished registering all her entries.   Let's hope she gets a blue ribbon for SOMETHING.  I, on the other hand, want a blue ribbon for waiting on her arse.  I suggested to the organizers that they consider a three items or less line or online registration for you see, I am the valedictorian of offering my personal opinion. 

Lots of water, a good night's sleep, a trip to the grocery store and a few loads of laundry should get me caught up, and then we'll be ready to go again.  Hubby said this morning that he thought this coming weekend might be a little slow compared to this last one.  I said that was okay.  That will give us a little time to catch up.  For the Fourth of July party we have planned.