Good Tuesday morning to you. Yesterday, I was telling you about my attempt to get away to the beach for a few days. I told you of my diverse packing that probably led my staff to believe I was leaving for more than just a few days.
Well, of course, I didn't leave for long. No matter how much I'd like to, I didn't. Life called me back early. But first, let me tell you about that tricky wench, Mother Nature.
I think Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor. I think she takes exception to global warming or climate change or whatever you want to call it. March had been imitating April or May.
I knew the weather would change eventually. A cold snap had to be due. Little did I know what that tricky wench had in mind!
The weather man was calling for a change, like I told you. That's why I took such an assortment of clothes. It was going to drop from 80 to 55 degrees. Ok, I could deal with that. I was going to be at the beach after all. I could still have fun without going for a swim.
It was going to rain a little, but it wouldn't be all that bad, would it? Ha ha. It started raining about halfway through that three hour drive going to the beach.
Bart and I had taken his little sports car with the targa top--just to cruise the beach. Wrong. The top never came off that little car. It rained the entire weekend.
To make it more "fun" it got cold. Not a little cold, a lot cold. By Monday, it was down in the 30s. The high was 35 degrees and raining. Yes, friends, Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor.
We never saw the beach. But, upon my return,when everyone says, "But you had fun anyway, right?" I'm obligated to say, "Yes."
I guess we did have fun. We went out for a very nice dinner Saturday night. I slept all day on Sunday while Bart watched tv. We had one of those nice bottles of wine.
We went down to the pier and had dinner at what is usually an open-air restaurant Sunday night. Needless to say it was not open-air that night or everyone would have frozen to death. And, by everyone, I mean me, Bart, the waiter, and the bartender, because everyone else had vacated the beach.
Sunday night we discovered the heat at Harry's place wasn't working. Ok, whatever, it's well insulated. We slept peacefully. I had my love to keep me warm.
Monday, I made the mistake of calling the vet to check on Spot and Sinatra who had been boarded. Spot had had an anxiety attack. He shredded his favorite old bed that I took with him to board. But, I took his tranquilizers with him in case of a thunderstorm. "No, the weekend records don't show any were given," the office manager told me. Great.
If Doc's staff can't get it right, I may never be able to board Spot anywhere. Normally, they are the best. He used to stay with my parents, but that's becoming impossible. Just wait. You'll find out why.
Sinatra, she told me, was fine but sleeping in his litter box. What? Sinatra never does that at home. "Oh, cats do it here sometimes." Great, again. Now Sinatra would need a bath. "No, it's a clean litter box. He doesn't smell." She told me.
A few minutes later, I received a text picture of Spot meant to show me he was ok. Nope, he did not look ok. His collar had been taken off. He looked frazzled. Spot likes to keep his collar on. It makes him very nervous when it's taken off. That was not one of his happy looks in that picture. I think he was unhappy about the whole experience, not just his beloved collar being removed.
So, my animals are miserable; the heat doesn't work; it's freezing cold and raining. Nothing else could go wrong, right? Wrong.
Mom sent me a text that she would need to leave Tuesday to go to a memorial service three states away. But, I thought that wasn't going to be for several weeks? "Nope. Wednesday. Come stay with your dad," she sent back. Great again, and again, and again.
Bart and I made the best of Monday. We went to one of the local entertainment, food, and shopping venues--where you have to walk outside to get from place to place--in the freezing rain.
We ate lunch at Johnny Rockets. It's a chain restaurant. But, it's made to look like a 50s diner.
Bart had never been to Johnny Rockets. When he heard the music being piped out of there, I knew where we were having lunch. Bart sang along to the music of his youth and bopped his head to the beat. He looks like Paul Newman, remember. Imagine Paul Newman happily singing 50s songs in Johnny Rockets. He was very cute.
Then, we went to see an IMAX 3-D movie. I've been to lots of IMAX movies, but never a 3-D one. Holy moly! Those 3-D movies make Avatar 3-D look like a kid's science fair project.
Where Avatar 3-D was very disappointing, an IMAX 3-D movie was not. I mean, those fish were swimming on our noses. The sea snakes swimming towards me were so real, I ripped off my 3-D glasses and hid in Bart's arms. Whew! Glad that part didn't last long!
Bart has never been to an IMAX movie period. Seeing him laugh and be so surprised at this 6 story screen with the very live 3-D film was also fun for me. Watching his child-like joy may have even been more fun than the movie.
Finally, we went to Build-a-Bear Workshop. Bart had never been there either. I know it seems like Bart doesn't get out much. It's that he doesn't go to places like this when he does get out and about.
Bart tried to pull the strings out of the back of the bear that are used to stitch it up. "No!!" I whaled, "Don't do that." I explained, we'd need them later in the process.
We built a stuffed rabbit for my upcoming role as an Auntie. My brother, Jack, and his wife, Mary, are expecting a baby girl soon. This rabbit will be her first toy from her Auntie Cowgirl Domino!
I dressed the bunny like a cowgirl in denim overalls, cowboy boots and hat. I put daisies on her ears and gave her a purse so my niece will know it's definately a cowgirl--not a cowboy. It has a voice box with my voice saying, "I love you." Ahhh, that really was a fun part of the trip.
Then, after packing up and cleaning the house, we were back in the little sports car. It was still raining. Never got to cruise around with the top down. And, we headed home.
I knew we'd end-up coming home late Monday night after the trip was initially planned to be longer. Bart had to attend to some things at work on Tuesday. But, I'd arranged for Ruthie to feed Tuesday afternoon back when I was optimistic that we could stay at the beach longer.
As far as the staff was concerned, I wouldn't be back til Wednesday. I was planning to go to my house and sleep the day away on Tuesday. Wrong. Dad-sitting, remember?
I got to Doc's Tuesday morning. Sinatra was fine. Spot was a wreck. He was shaking all over. He whimpered. He barked non-stop if I got out of his sight. Boarding was not his idea of a great weekend.
We dropped Sinatra off at the farm. I briefly checked in with Ruthie and said I was going to Dad-sit this week. Spot and I ventured to Wal-Mart to buy him a new bed--to replace the one he shredded, remember?
Then, it was off to Dad-sit. My dad has been retired for almost 15 years. He has a lot of health problems that keep him from getting out and about much. No one has been allowed to upset him since 1979 because of his health. He has a lot of time to think. His creativity gets going from all this thinking. This combination has made him a bit high maintenance.
For everyone's well-being, I won't tell you any more of what the end of my weekend "vacation" came to for the rest of the week. I ran the 45 minutes back and forth between their house and the farm until Thursday taking care of Dad's many ideas and the farm.
So much for sleeping all day on Tuesday. So much for being revived. I was not. But, then, there was another surprise waiting for me and Bart on Friday morning. Oh, when it rains, it pours. I'll tell you that one tomorrow.
Have a good Tuesday and thanks for reading.
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