As I'm new to this blogging thing, I feel a certain amount of pressure to dazzle you all with brilliant tidbits of writing. But alas, since my fingers are ready to type and my brain hasn't quite caught up, I'll just have to talk about what's on my mind. Since it's raining again and we've still got about eight inches of snow left to melt, I can't help thinking about our muddy driveway and road.
But wait, I think to myself, I've already talked about that in my first post. Does anyone really care that I had trouble sleeping because I worried all night that my husband might start his day kicking out a window in his car to escape the quicksand sucking in his vehicle down into middle earth? (Why won't that stubborn man park away from this nasty mire?!)
My mind drifts to the time my 78 year-old mother-in-law visited during our lovely mud season and when she left, she climbed (or was heaved) into a bucket on the back of our ATV, scrunched down next to a basket of clean, folded laundry, and waved as my son drove her through the brown slush. I watched her bounce away as the four-wheeler dodged washed-out holes in the road and headed to the getaway car at the bottom of the hill. I don't think I could have been more embarrassed--oh wait, a vague memory of leaving a bathroom and stepping into a rockin' party with toilet paper trailing from the back of my waistband comes to mind. ;-) All my troubling was for nothing though. A few weeks later, my sister-in-law told me Mom loved the adventure.
Nah! I'm not going to go on about the mud again today. I'll go finish my skirt-to-bag reconstruction and talk to you later!