I don’t even know where to begin.
Which means you may get a lot of random thoughts in this post. I’m just going to start with what’s on my mind at this very moment:
We had a party yesterday.
Lynn, Suzy and Salsa
Yesterday was Lynn’s birthday, and because she and her son Jacob were driving down for Friday night’s season-ending BHS victory (Go, Pioneers!), we decided we’d finally have our “housewarming” party and combine it with birthday cake.
We had an incredible time, and Lynn took a few pictures (I didn’t even get our camera out). Jacob shot a multilingual birthday video for our friend Becky (sorry, it’s Rebecca now), who lives in Nashville and couldn’t be here. Rebecky’s birthday is today. We told her Happy Birthday in at least four languages (thank you, Desiree, for the Pig Latin!).
Bruce had worked diligently to hang the family photos that had been leaning against the wall in our hallway. I don’t think anyone even looked at the photos during the party, as we didn’t do a “home tour.” People just started coming in and sitting around the music area, chatting and then eventually pickin’ and grinnin’.
We had everyone but Lynn and her boys out of here by Razorback game time (they had an hour’s drive home, so they missed a good bit of the first half). Mom called just as they were leaving and invited us over to watch. So after the kitchen cleaned itself up (not!), we went to Mom’s. I was nearly numb with tiredness (I’d say exhaustion, but it wasn’t quite that severe – Bruce may dispute this, but I didn’t stress out as much over this party as I have with previous ones). And Mom hadn’t been able to come to the party because she wore herself out cleaning out her storage building.
So we went to Mom’s to watch the Hogs beat South Carolina. Go, Hogs!
I could barely walk by the time we got home, and I went straight down the hall toward the bedroom to turn on the electric blanket and the heating pad. I noticed that Bruce had hung all three of the framed photo collages that had been leaning against the wall. I had barely noticed because I had already warned our potential party guests that there was so much to do at the house, we might not have pictures hung.
Bruce, nevertheless, worked to get the hallway done.
And last night, as I walked to the bedroom in my bleary-eyed state, I happened to look at all his handiwork so I could thank him for his hard work. The last one on the left, just before the bedroom door, was one of the aforementioned collages.
I said something like, “You do know that this last photo collage is of people chosen by the photo-frame manufacturers?”
“What?” he said, walking down the hall toward me.
“These are pictures of people inserted by the makers of this frame and collage.”
“Oh. I thought they were your nieces and your childhood friends and relatives.”
I had bought Mom the collage several years ago, but she was expecting me to fill it with family photos. I never got around to it.
At least it’s not cluttering the floor in the hallway anymore.