Just Like I Remembered It
We’re baaackkk! Jamaica is but a memory now, although some of our family members have lingering illnesses and credit card theft issues to deal with since returning.
We returned to the news, not completely unexpected, that our old Ford Explorer – you know, the one my son Max crashed two days before we left for Jamaica – is too banged up to fix. We are down one vehicle. And that means car shopping has moved to the top of our ‘To Do’ list.
We surely had some stinky clothes by the time we got home from Jamaica. I washed clothes for two days. My husband Mike’s running clothes were the worst. I had to wrestle them to the ground, stomp on them, then throw them in the washing machine and slam the door shut before they ran away. After a thorough washing and drying, they still smell piffy, but Mike won’t part with them.
My daughter Tory, she of the major throat closing illness, has been taking her prednisone. Two more days to go on that, but she still doesn’t sound ‘better.’ She hasn’t been keeping to her usual schedule of softball, volleyball, running and work in an attempt to ‘get better.’
The good news with Tory is that the blood work came back negative for mono and the strep test came back negative too. A nasty virus is what our girl has and it’s sticking to her like glue. I spoke with my nurse girlfriend Pat and she said Tory should feel better in 7-14 days. Tory growled when she heard the time frame.
And me? Well, I’ve been reveling in working in my garden since we returned from vacation. You see, with Tory’s softball schedule I haven’t been out there weeding and tending in two months. The plants have been doing happy dances, spreading seeds and generally creating plant mayhem in my absence. I started with weeding my west side garden; it took two days of solid weeding, but now looks a lot neater. I dug up/potted some volunteer plants and put them at my curb with a sign “Free Perennials” and boy did those plants disappear fast! Then I tackled the carpet roses that surround my gravel driveway. They are berserk, flopping here, there and everywhere. I have begun to cut them back so they don’t die from the inside out. It’s tedious work, but I’m up for the task. I’m heading out there now!
Oops. I almost forgot. I posted the short video of my son Max diving off the high cliff at Rick’s Cafe in Negril, Jamaica. Listen to his Aunt Betsy commenting on his jump in the audio portion of the video.