Waiting for the mud to dry…

My father came over to help Mate with the bathroom today–there was much shop-vaccing and hanging of tarps and sanding…I’m not sure what all they accomplished, but when I returned from my own errands (much about that in a minute) they were drinking beer on the couch and watching the 49’ers game…uhm, er, waiting for the mud to dry. Apparently when the mud is dry, the angels will sing, the plumbing will attach, and there will no longer be 6 people in 3/4rs of a bathroom. After linoleum, a vanity, and a toilet are installed, of course.

And about my own errands? Well, there was grocery shopping (of course) and convincing Chicken and Big T to clean the little people’s room (Chicken) and clean out the can cupboard (Big T). You may think that Big T had it easy, but since I’ve been calling the ‘can cupboard’ the ‘spider cupboard for months, I’d say that Chicken was the one who got off lightly. But beyond that, my other errand was apparently getting butt-fuck-lost.

Chicken had a meeting at Freeborn Hall in Davis with her ambassadorship people–now I know where Davis is, and we found our way onto the tremendulous vastness of the UCD campus, and we were reasonably late as it was. But… but following the little computer generated map for the campus itself? Completely defeated me. The little kids were asleep in the back of the car because Mate was, well, waiting for the mud to dry and according to the map, Freeborn hall was two blocks away from the parking structure… and we hadn’t the FAINTEST idea where to go after that. None. I’m not too stupid–I can usually navigate, although my sense of direction is iffy at times–but in this case, we couldn’t read a blessed thing. And not only would we be trying to navigate, we’d be trying to navigate on foot, for about 1/2 a mile with short people in tow…and we didn’t have the SLIGHTEST FUCKING IDEA WHERE TO GO. I wasn’t going to give up so easily–really. I drove back the way we’d come, looking for a sign–I mean, the place was called ‘Freeborn Hall’–it’s not like it was gonna be a portajohn on the back forty, right? And then we saw our exit, and Chicken stuck her hands in the air and squealed ‘WOOOOHOOOOOO!’ and we came back home and had ice cream, a tuna sandwich and a nap.

After my Dad left, of course, because they were still (you guessed it!) waiting for the mud to dry.

And that’s it–I’m wiped. My weekend has been a hazy mirage of soccer games, trips to Lowe’s , trips to the gym, a blessed hour at the yarn store, finishing a pair of socks (WOOHOO!), grocery shopping, and a clusterfuck of a drive to Davis, apparently to have ice cream in Citrus Heights. And don’t forget–waiting for the mud to dry. Things may have been a little less hazy, but this morning at five-thirty a.m., the Cave Troll crawled into our bed and started touching my face every ten minutes saying, “Playhouse Disney, mom. Playhouse Disney.” About the time I was starting to dream about selling him to Gypsies (who looked like little purple lemmings, btw, because, Hey! I really WAS dreaming!) Mate got up and took him into the front room and Ladybug took his place. She was a better sleeping buddy, but by then, the damage was done. It was seven-thirty on a very busy Sunday, and we were up and my brain was mush and my disposition slightly south of a hungry bear with diaper-rash and a squirrel allergy. The Cave-Troll, btw? Is asleep as I write this. Lucky him.

I do have one exciting thing to add, though– a fan of the Little Goddess books e-mailed me this weekend. She said she was watching an episode of House Hunters this weekend, and apparently one of the sisters in the episode was reading–you guessed it!–VULNERABLE. Huzzah–exposure on a nationally viewed media! I’ll just sit back and wait for the agents and publishing companies to besiege me with offers of riches and fame, thank you very much. It will be something to do while I’m waiting for the mud to dry.

(Oh yeah–I made another T-Shirt It’s lame, but it will be worn for the signing:-)