All is quiet on the home front tonight. It's been a crazy (smazy) day. Started baking a lemon butter cake with fresh strawberries and lemon cream (ta die for) at 7 a.m. this morning...for 2 very lovely wombats who are about to have breathing, moving things come out of their bellies in the next couple of weeks. So we lovely ladies showered them with love and affection for three hours this afternoon. But in order to get to E's today for the baby shower, I needed to finish the cake, lift some weights with Paul Bunyan (he's P90X-ing folks...I'll explain later), load the truck with alpaca shit for our local baker (who doesn't bake with it, thank god), bring a bucket load of shit up to my garden, take a shower, feed the punks lunch, load bus up, drive 30 minutes south to drop goombas off at play date, stop and get two measly gallons of gas (the frickin' pump was too slow), drive 30 minutes north for ballet practice (which I was only 8 minutes late for), drive 15 minutes south to drop ballerina off at best friend's house, drive 15 minutes west to Burlington for shower, retrace steps to pick up punks.
Here, let's see if you can follow the arrows:
Have I told you that I hate leaving the mountain? Yea, I think I did. But I'm not complaining about my day. Really, I'm not. I'm not. I just needed Claire to remind me that "there is no home like the one you've got" and I'm definitely not leavin' it tomorrow. And you can't make me.
Claire Barking at the Moon