Quite the clever title there huh? Somedays you just have to go with what life deals ya and today it is dog shit.

The last post I just finished and published was not what I intended to write when I sat down in my comfy recliner with my HP-mini notebook and can of diet Pepsi. But it is what came out and what obviously I NEEDED to write.

Today was just one of those days. One of those days that just keeps getting better and better. I won’t rehash the last post. I’ll just remind my gentle readers that I took my girls shopping and it was trying and tiring. We went to one mall initially and ended up back at what I lovingly refer to as Chuckletown Mall where most of the stores are empty spaces. But there is a Deb store that sells plus sizes and it is one of the last remaining places in the state of Illinois where my daughter can find jeans and homecoming dresses that fit her and don’t (usually) make her cry.

When we got home around 5 p.m. I had the horrifying realization that the puppy had been in her crate since around 10 a.m. and that may just have been longer than her digestive system could handle. We came in the house with a sense of exhaustion and trepidation. Fortunately she was fine and clean. She ran for the backdoor immediately and went out to do her business.

But alas! All was not well in the land of the Shiny Island. As we progressed further into the house we smelled the distinctive air of canine defecation. Upon close inspection a steaming pile of crap matching the living room rug almost exactly was found. Heidi had a bad day.

All I wanted to do was relax in my chair with a can of Diet Pepsi and watch last night’s episode of Mad Men. But no. I got a pile of shit to clean up instead.

Thank goodness I bought this little machine right after I bought this new rug and before we adopted the new pup. It has paid for itself many times over.

I think the color of that water about says it all.

When I was done I found this glass’ worth of wine left in the fridge. I think I earned it.

Edited to add: I find it very difficult to watch Mad Men without a martini and a Lucky Strike but was so pleased to find on this weeks episode the crew at Sterling Cooper working on the “Patio” (the working name for what would become Diet Pepsi) campaign. Cool.

It is so strange how my mind works sometimes. I get random thoughts and ideas at the oddest times of day and night. For example, I woke up in the night last night with a great idea (as ideas at 4 a.m. go anyway) for a strip club. For some unknown reason I woke up and thought to myself that a club in Hershey, Pennsylvania featuring women of color called “Chocolate Kisses” was a brilliant idea. I don’t recall what if any dreams I may have been having that would have led to this epiphany but there you go. See, I don’t need to drink to have the crazy.

On to other news you didn’t know you needed to know.
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I spent the weekend back in my lovely homestate of Michigan. This time I hit the east side for a mini-reunion with Steve’s family and a few days with my Mom and Dad.
This is me and Patty. She is Steve’s cousin. They were best friends growing up. People often wonder how Steve puts up with me and what he ever found attractive about me in the first place. It’s because of her. She is loud, funny, loves her family unapologetically. In other words, she is me. When I first became part of the family I was told many times that I reminded them of Patty. Thank you Patty for preparing Steve for 20 years of the crazy.

We also had what can only be described as typical midwest weather. It rained all day Saturday (which explains my bad hair) and then got hot and humid. In August rain does nothing to alleviate the humidity, it just adds another layer of wet to everything. Unlike the coastal parts of Michigan the inner part of the state just gets dreadful hot and damp. Sunday there was a breeze but it was a hot, damp breeze. It is the kind of weather that people who live in the desert southwest chuckle and say things like, “At least where we are from it is a dry heat.” That’s usually when I fantasize about punching them in the throat but that would take effort that I just can’t expend in that kind of weather because it would make me sweat more. Instead I just sit around and cuss.

You see we went to my parents’ house in the Thumb Saturday night and spent Sunday with them. Did I mention that they don’t have air conditioning in their old farm house? So when kids today complain about ANYTHING I can say old people stuff like “You have it so good these days. When I was a kid we didn’t have a/c and we liked it.” Thankfully my parents bought a new motor home this year and we spent most of the weekend out in the “apartment” where it was air conditioned. Still we slept in the house and I think I may have steamed off 10 more pounds in the night.

There is a new neighbor in the old hood that is causing quite a bit of interesting gossip. About 3 miles up the road from Mom and Dad there is an old farm house that over the past year or so has been completely renovated and a rumor had it that a famous old Detroit rocker was moving in. Growing up in the Thumb there was a big house on the way to Lapeer that was rumored to be the home of said rocker but that was later proven to be an urban rural legend. This time is appears that the rumors are true. My dad used to be a County Commissioner and says that the work permits filed with the county had this famous person listed as owner of the property. Then this weekend he was telling me that a guy I grew up with was on the work crew that paved the driveway up there and was told by the foreman that the owner may show up that day and if anyone bothered him or asked for an autograph they would be fired and no one would get paid. He did show up and talked with the workers (he as a very nice guy from all reports).
Of course on the way home from going to brunch in Sandusky I had to try to get a picture of his house.

So the next time I’m there I’m going to listen to some old time rock and roll and hope to run into the new neighbor when I’m up at the corner store buying my Silver Bullet beer. I’ll try to play it cool (like a rock) and not put any night moves on him. Otherwise, the old neighborhood is pretty much still the same.

Our camping weekend was a lot of fun. We didn’t have the greatest weather for camping but it could have been much worse. Setting up tents on Saturday afternoon with gale force winds and intermittent rain was interesting. But it cleared around dinner time and a beautiful double rainbow came out.
 
Sunday was a gorgeous day if a little cool and breezy. The nice thing about the breeze was that it kept the mosquitoes away.
 
I am the youngest of four with my brother Scott being the eldest and 10.5 years older than me. My sisters, Pam and Brenda are 5 and 4 years older than me and almost exactly a year apart. I wasn’t exactly an afterthought but the combination of the age differences and the fact that my sisters were practically twins meant that I quite often felt like the outsider growing up. There wasn’t a whole lot of the “beloved baby sister” thing going on. (That could also just be because I was a total pain in the ass!) My mother is also the youngest of four (all girls) with a sizable age difference between her and her sisters. I remember her telling me that someday we’d all be the same age and the differences wouldn’t matter anymore. I guess that day has finally come. It started when we all started having kids. Scott’s kids are all adults now and it is fun having them around. The rest of the kids are all very close in age. Actually the five cousins are all one grade apart in school. Starting in 2011 with Heath (Pam’s oldest) we will have one graduation every spring until Emma finishes in 2015.

We used to do this family camping thing when the kids were younger and then lives got busy and we took a few years off. It was so fun to see the teens all hanging out together and playing games (and eavesdropping on their conversations. Teen boys have the funniest things to say about teen girls.) It is also so much easier to camp with kids that can go to the bathrooms and pool by themselves, sleep in their own tent and help set up the campsite. The first time I took Emma camping she was still sleeping in a Pack-n-Play and I forgot a booster seat and feeding her was interesting. I think she ate more dirt that trip than food. The next year she was potty training and we had the potty chair next to a tree because I knew if I tried to get her to use the Porta-Potty she would never get out of diapers.

The Wood Family is also a family of storytellers. My Grandpa told stories of his youth and when his entire family drove Model A Fords from Michigan to California when he was 13 years old. (He also started keeping a daily diary on that trip and made an entry every day until he died in his 90s. My dad has all these diaries in his safe and someday I hope we can have them transcribed) My Dad tells stories about farming and truck driving and trail riding and people he’s met and anything and everything else. My siblings and I also tell stories. Memories of camping trips from our childhood.

Remember when we took the truck top camper to the steam engine show and it rained all weekend and there was a river running through the campground? And the “hit and miss” engine was across from our campsite? And Pam got stung by yellow jackets?
What about the time Beth peed on Pam’s pillow?
Or the year we camped next to the big family from Detroit and then we went to visit them? Their Dad was a minister at a church and something weird was going on at their church that day. Wasn’t there a dead body found behind the church or something?

These family stories are fun to share. I remember listening to the last two generation’s stories when I was young and they made me feel connected to a time and a place as well as the people. My kids are growing up away from that place and most of those people. It makes me sad at times that they don’t have that sense of connectedness. Little things like holidays together and trips like this one help ease the gap and hopefully help them stay connected with our family heritage. Monday I took the girls up to Traverse City to their other grandparent’s and left them there until Friday when we’ll meet up with them for a family reunion with Steve’s siblings and cousins.

Funny, I look at the few pictures I took this weekend and realize there isn’t one with my own children. I did take them, they just don’t like me in public and don’t allow me to take their photo. I hope my sisters have at least one picture of them.

Edited to add:
The best part of the trip was getting home yesterday to find the house clean (Steve stayed home to take care of the dogs and because he had to work) and a full case of diet Pepsi in the fridge. Now all I have to do is repack the tent after it dries out and store all the camping stuff until next year.