Our company is in 'da house as of yesterday afternoon (hence my unusual absence; I've been socializing with actual people. Weird, I know). They arrived a little early which meant that Handsome & I spent the AM in cleaning mode (which any MIL worth her salt inspires). It also means that we all get to spend more time together, which, when you've got 600+ miles separating you from your nearest emergency contacts, is SUPER AWESOME.
|Jemma Star (aka: the difficult one)|
We chilled at first, then tried to go to this swimming hole place called "The Quarry". It is a new discovery to me (thanks LL!) in the greater metropolitan Clemson area. Unfortunately, everyone in the surrounding 3 counties seemed to have the same idea, and since some of our guests require environments with limited stimulation, we decided to forgo the swimming hole for a leisurely stroll along the dike.
Fortunately, we had the top off of the Jeep, we were all together, and we were loving life, regardless of a small change of plans.
|Bella Bean (aka: the easy one)|
Unfortunately (anyone ever read those books?) a thunderstorm had the same idea as we did, and when taking a leisurely stroll along a dike, a thunderstorm is not good company. He's loud and spits when he talks, and always seems to have a static problem; you know those people who always seem to shock you when they shake your hand? He's like that. No lie, our hair looked like we rubbed a balloon on our heads.
So we ran for the car, rode through the rain in the Jeep (a new experience and semi-adventurous) and returned home for a mostly quiet night. The puppies played and ran and barked and wore themselves out.
Today Handsome had to work, so us girls decided we wanted to go shopping. Really, even Sista, a self-professed shopping hater was game for the plan. I think she's trying to impress me, but its working so, hey...
The only problem is that certain company we're hosting which requires limited stimulation also requires excessive observation. Like, she'll eat through wood and plastic. So we had to figure out what to do with her. We've got a garage (which I'm currently not allowed to park my jeep in becuase H needs to be able to "access his workspace") and it was decided that the garage was a suitable place for sweet girl Jemma, as long as we "Jemma-proofed" it.
So, we "Jemma-proofed," and here's what we got:
You can see that there is nothing on the floor that is either tempting or invaluable. Yes, apparently, it is necessary to put the garden hose up on top of the shelves and move the box fan off of the floor. The only issue with this whole ordeal is what to do with the rest of the stuff that wouldn't fit on a shelf. Enter phase II of the JP-ing: bring stuff inside.
I swear to you, the entire house was spotless about 20 min prior to their arrival on Weds afternoon. I should have taken pictures then, but I'm pretty sure I
had fallen into an exhausted heap was preoccupied.
At this point, I want to do what Handsome does and use the phrase he's been abusing for about 3 weeks now. Ready?
"To make a long story short," we Jemma-Proofed properly, shopped properly for about 5 hours, and came home to no excessive destruction. And Jemma got treats. And so did the other dogs, because I'm a softie.
But now tell me something. Before I used H's turn of phrase, I was already 500 words in; how does a few extraneous words make the long story short? This is why I believe he's been abusing it, and I'd like to file a grievance. If I understand it correctly, you're supposed to use the phrase BEFORE you tell the whole long story. This way you really are making the long story short. Handsome will talk to me about
scuba fire bicycles anything until my ears nearly bleed, and then throw that phrase on the end before his last sentence. As though that makes up for it.
*A moment of confession: I actually love his stories. I'm just being dramatic for the effect (affect?). My bad. Now, back to your irregularly scheduled nonsense.*
Tomorrow we're going to try the swimming hole again, this time during the part of the day where both high school students are in class (supposedly) and the entire rest of the world is watching Clemson's best and brightest walk across the stage.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen of Clemson's 2011 graduating class; while you're bored to tears and sweating in an over-crowded auditorium, I'm going to be sunning myself, jumping off of 20-ft rocks into deep clear cool water, and possibly eating fresh watermelon. Who's the smart one, huh?
Do you have any huge plans for tomorrow? Its Friday, you know. You'd better do it justice. If you need some suggestions for what to do or where to go, see here.
Apparently in the mood to trash talk tomorrow’s future leaders,