If my life becomes anymore spontaneous, I think I'll combust. This past weekend's itinerary was
1) On the road up to the desert at the crack of 8:00 am (on a Saturday! my sacred sleep-in day!) for the only people who I willingly get out of bed that early for nowadays (on a Saturday at least) - the grandgirls. My 'City girl was playing the recorder in a concert by a large group of recorder-playing third graders. This is what you do for love. In my totally un-biased, objective opinion they made beautiful music. There was also square-dancing. No one fell off the stage, refused to hold hands or tried to trip their partner during the do-si-does. Apparently third-grade squaredancing has evolved greatly since I was a participant. After the "Inky-dinky parlez vous" grand finale - the crowd went wild - spontaneously leaping to their feet in a standing ovation (or possibly they were evacuating - it was difficult to tell). 
2) Then onto the post-concert celebratory soiree at Chez Golden Arches, to feast on pommes de frites, while the Sprite flowed like water and numerous toasts were made to the recipients of the Happy Meal awards about the glowing reviews.
3) Then back on the road, driving across the desert to - yet another desert town, where my cousin (aka my little sister - when you're raised together, sharing a bedroom; sneak each others make-up & clothes; fight over who gets to play their record next; bloodlines are irrelevant. We pass all but the most stringent litmus tests - we're sisters, ok?) was visiting from Albuquerque, for an in-law family emergency - but this is as close as we've gotten to being in the same place at the same time in the past 4 years, and we weren't going to let the opportunity to see each other, slip away. So we got a 3 hour hug & tear fest in, while our respective husbands commiserated over our shared family traits. I'm sure we must have at least some shared family traits that are worth celebrating, but apparently our guys find it much more entertaining to focus on our family's eccentricities (ha! I'm sure lots of people save way more crapola, I mean ephemera, for collaging and crafting, than we do! Artists are always so misunderstood...) I would share a photo, but I only took one - and we both look mascara-streaked - and she wouldn't let me use her mirror...so I wouldn't let her use my lipgloss...It doesn't take long for us to re-acclimate to our sisterhood! Plus we look like we're having a double-chin contest. Thank heaven we're seeing each other again this weekend, so I can delete this photo.
3) The trip back home, which should have only taken a little under 2 hours, of course took 3-1/2, thanks to traffic. Oh, and my stop here for the restroom, and a quick picture or ten, as long as I had my camera with me - you can't find these kind of photography subjects just anywhere, you know...
4) Dropped into bed - so I could rise bright & early again on Sunday - for yet another grandgirl outing
here. Along with 20 other Daisies & Brownies (teeny Girl Scouts, for those not in the biz). Where my inner child became way overstimulated at the prospect of little bitty bear costumes with matching shoes. Bear picnic baskets. Bear camping gear... Bear tutus... Bear bikinis for the belly-baring bears! Hula skirts and flip-flops for bears going to luaus! Not to mention scuba gear, military uniforms for every branch of the service, and gowns for the evening-wear competition. Barbie has nothing on these well-built bears. The grandgirls opted for tasteful party dresses and a set of pj's for their newly born bears, complete with birth certificates. I am now a great-great grandma to Sally and Elena Bear. I am also a nervous wreck - if I was overstimulated by this experience, can you imagine what the 20-some 4 - 9 year olds were like amidst all the choices of bear-finery? 
5) Oh, but we weren't done with the weekend yet - last but not least, the lunch trip to h-e-double toothpicks. I certainly hope our trip to this restaurant helped save the rainforest, because it pretty much demolished what shreds of sanity I had left, what with the animatronic rainforest animals roaring over the rushing waterfall and the blaring muzak of uncertain pedigree (part pseudo-tribal, part semi-reggae??) And the tropical rainstorm lightning every quarter of an hour. Every 15 minutes. For 2 hours. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but a side effect of my eye-socket fracturing incident, is that flashing lights feel rather like an ice pick is being stabbed repeatedly into my brain through my eyeball, till a vise-like migraine locks around my head. I don't do disco lights, ceiling fans (or even a lot of fast-action movies for that matter!) anymore. Add to this slow service, over-stimulated little people, and a two hour drive back home (once again, twice what it should have been) and I had to retire to my couch for the remainder of the day (with one arm thrown dramatically across my forehead. Week-ends are where I get my drama on - gotta vent some time!).
6) By the time "Desperate Housewives" came on, I had a miraculous recovery. And was even able afterwards to stay up way too late, to scribble some on Sunday - which is where I left off last time.
Someday I may actually make some art again. And sleep. But here I am staying up way too late, again. Goon dight. Godd night. You know, whatever!
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