Back to the Grindstone

Back from vacation and I'm exhausted. I need a vacation from my vacation. The fireworks tent was a great success and I'm very thankful that it is all said and done for another year. I thought I'd never get the gunpowder residue off me. Braveheart is unfortunately sporting a souvenir from the season. She has a burn on her arm from an artillery shell that fell over. She IS brave indeed. She has never even shed a tear! (For all Grandma's reading this entry... she is fine, really. We are taking good care of her.)

My stepdad, came up for the week to help with the tent. He was great and is running circles around me. Now that he's had his heart attack and new stints put in, he is so full of energy I can hardly believe it. He never stopped for a minute. On top of helping at the tent, he made five or six batches of homemade ice cream, fixed my dryer, did all the laundry (think mountainous), cleaned out the furnace filter, took out the trash, ran errands, etc... I may start referring to him as the Energizer Bunny.

My mom joined us after all the fireworks fun (she's no dummy). To her credit, she did not drive me crazy with advice or guilt over Braveheart's arm. Instead, she accompanied us to the doctor's office where we were held hostage in the waiting room for 45 minutes watching Michael Jackson's funeral. I have never seen a more glorified and celebrated pedophile in my life. Sorry MJ fans, but it's a sad day in America when we gloss over the truth and concentrate only on the image and the music; proof that we really are going to hell in a hand basket.

Now, I'm back to the grindstone. Back to work, back to trying to figure out all the home school stuff, back to running kids all over the place and did I mention that I need a vacation from my vacation?