The girls weren’t particularly trying today.  They were of low-grade to average difficulty on the Mommy Sliding Scale of “How much I’ll need to drink tonight in order to face tomorrow”.  And yet, I found myself browsing the Nantucket Real Estate listings at naptime.  Never a good sign.  Just 7.4 million more dollars, and I’m sooooo there baby.  I lived there a decade and an another lifetime ago, but I’m sure it happened.  I have the pictures.  I scrutinized the kitchens, the authenticity of the interiors, the horror that 75 Main Street is up for sale….an original Coffin house.  Talk about a sign the economy has tanked: a whaling ship captain’s home is up for sale!  Whaling just isn’t what it used to be.

But even with all the FUN in the Summer of Fun, some days wear me down.  Some days I wish to be less of a parent, and more of a distant cousin who visits at the holidays.  Many days I wish I wished less.  I want to care less about my faded clothes, and be grateful for my messy home. I want to dream up fewer plans I cannot execute in these trying economic times, and focus more on what “The Now” has to offer.  I want to shop at consignment because it’s quirky and quaint, not because without it I’d be wearing a shower curtain to Meijer, where shower curtain or no, I’m going to complain to the manager about the cost of Cookie Buttons.  If they are gluten free, shouldn’t they be cheaper?  Doesn’t gluten cost SOMETHING?  How does the inclusion of GLUTEN MAKE FOOD LESS EXPENSIVE?  And heck people, I don’t even care about gluten, it’s just that Kelly loves Cookie Buttons.  And listen here Mr. Meijer Manager, I just want a pair of shoes NOT PREVIOUSLY OWNED.  That’s my consumptionism flaring up.  It’s evil.  Someone should make a pill.

But then, Mom came down unexpectedly, allowing me to cook a proper supper, and I worked on the ironing, which is now down from a 7 hour pile to a 2 hour pile, most of which are maternity clothes I’m taking to consignment.  Life is funny.   Aunt Jenny stayed for a bit and chatted over a yummy meal.  My entire house smells like loaded baked potato soup and bread.  Heavenly crispy bacon, marry me.  Grandma gave baths.  We all pitched in, and the disaster ’round these parts has gone from “HOLY MOLY”, to “It’s mostly hidden in the closets.”  And everyone I’ve talked to in the past 48 hours has been very God-focused.  Everyone seems to be drawing closer to Jesus, trusting in him, and asking for guidance with 100% faith that he will answer.  That has to be a good sign, doesn’t it?  If God wanted to right side up America, maybe it’s happening.  I’m jiggy with that.  Saving us from ourselves?  I’ll wear 2nd hand for that cause.

As I picked up the endless tornado aftermath which has become my house, I got a good laugh at the girls’ last escapades of the day.  They gave Sock Monkey and Nona Kitty a ride on the horse.  Apparently, they had a tea party in bed.  Primrose P. Trufflesnout felt so good she did the splits at the tea party.  And Sara playing with her $2 Goodwill doll with a purse on her head?  Well that’s just plain cute.  It’s snapshots like these that make me want to close down the Nantucket ads and stay put.  Maybe for just another day.  Hey!  Tomorrow is fried chicken night!  The fair starts in a couple of days which means more fried food!  OK, a few more days…