I’ve signed up for GISHWES, the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World has Ever Seen. I am not entirely convinced that this was a good idea. It’s a week-long goofy scavenger hunt. I decided to join up because I am trying to be a Fun Person. Sadly, I don’t think that truly fun people ever set out Trying To Be A Fun Person as if it were some sort of character improvement project. So I am probably doomed. My choice to join up was probably also impacted by the the extra-large sangria I consumed immediately before I said yes.
As it happens, I am traveling for part of the week, so I won’t necessarily be able to be, like, the most super-duper member of my team. But I anticipate spending at least a few days participating in ridiculous activities. We’ll see how it goes. Which reminds me, we have scrapped our Acadia plans in favor of heading down to Savannah for a long weekend instead. We haven’t seen my parents in a while and I managed to score not-entirely-horrifying plane tickets. There was literally no other weekend that we could set aside, so we’ll have to put Maine on our to-do-in-the-future list. But the kids always have fun in Savannah, so that’s excellent.
M is already in soccer high-gear. Just as an example, this morning she woke up at 7:30 am to do about half an hour of footwork with Cute W, then she went to WEST Soccer Camp (which is basically, like, an informal Niskayuna schools girls’ soccer camp) from 9 am to 12 pm, right now she’s at officially school soccer weight training from 4:30-6 pm, and she will likely do another half hour of footwork with Cute W after he gets home from work. She’s a Beast, and in case it’s not clear, I mean that as a compliment.
We are four days away from picking up J at summer camp, and I am pretty much counting the hours. I received one piece of mail from her, which was a form I created so that she could just check off boxes quickly and send it back. For example, for “Camp is. . .” she could check off:
- So unbelievably awesome! Loving it!
- Mostly pretty good.
- Okay. I mean, I’ll get through it.
- Unrelenting misery, kind of like a gulag, but with clown noses.
She went with “Great!” and that, along with her other answers, appeased me for about, oh, two and a half days. Then I started fretting again, and without additional mail, the fretting escalates. There have been some more pictures which seem to confirm that at least she’s not being tortured. Still, I’ll feel better when I see her.
Our kitty, Isis, is starting to show her age. She’s gotten not-so-great at reaching a spot on her back that’s turned super-knotty. I have given up and snipped off some fur, which, frankly, is not a flattering look for her. She’s also not quite as spry as she used to be, which we noticed earlier this summer when she seemed a bit hesitant about using the flap in the screen of our screen porch. It’s a bit of jump to go back inside, and that never bugged her before, but as the weather started getting warm, we often saw her gazing up looking a little doubtful. S a few weeks ago, Cute W added a few steps for her.
And yes, our phlox is once again a little out of control. But, you know, in a nice way.