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Thursday, July 8, 2010

What Blog? Where?

Sorry, little blog, but I'm drowning in squeaky wheels, and you're not one of them.

Given adequate time, I would try to write a post about how my amazing mom received a kidney recently from my amazing aunt, and what an honor it was to be part of that experience, and how grateful I am to my family for allowing me to spend a week at my mom's side, and how I feel pure joy every time I see my mom in renewed health. But then I would realize how close to my heart it all was, and still is, and I would decide that the internet is not the right forum for something so internal and tender. And then I would just tell you how much I love all of my family.

But if you were really interested in the whole story from my family's perspective, you could go to www.ushassells.com and read the 50+ posts, staring around June 21, or if you just wanted a little taste of how amazing these two women are, you could just read this and this and this. And maybe this.

But since time is in short supply, and I'm supposed to be doing a whole lot of something else, I'm just going to throw some syrup on this waffle, as Mickie would say, and call it good.

Going camping with 6 people and adequate equipment requires some serious packing skillz:



And some serious redneck skillz:



10 hours into the camping trip (we were asleep for 7 of them), we already had wet laundry:



And by that night, all the children had one dry outfit left:



So with my sanity in mind, we went here:





Where everyone else was happy to wait while doing this:



After which I loaded up clean, dry, folded laundry and breathed a contented sigh of enormous relief.

How cool is this?



HAR:


(Camping Glam. Awesome.)

We celebrated the Home of the Brave:



And, after that horrible, sickening how-did-I-let-my-child-get-hurt feeling ebbed a little, we said a prayer of thanks that he only fell against the firepit, and not into it.



So here we are, 10 loads of laundry later and gearing up for our next camping adventure. What an excellent day for a little bitty bladder to soak right through my giant bean bag, making it necessary to throw away the wet stuffing, unstuff the whole doggone thing, wash the cover, vacuum everything in a 6-foot radius, and pack 9 bags of shredded foam rubber into the garage for another day's project.



Shredded foam rubber, you are NOT my friend.