Slackah

(This is actually from the weekend before last - shows how lazy I am, eh?)

Work has been keeping me busy lately, but the cool thing is that it hasn’t been keeping me busy in that late-nights-working-all-weekend kind of way, although there’s still some of that – inevitable in my trade, it would seem. I think it’s helped by Special K’s new assignment that means he has to be in Rosslyn by 8 am, putting me at my desk around 7:45. By the time he leaves his office and gets to me, it’s usually around 5:30 or so, meaning that I’ve been logging 10-hour days – so no wonder I’m getting more done at work. But coming in early doesn’t really faze me much, I actually like it. I just hate staying late, so I’m glad not to have to do it much anymore.

However, all this working has meant that time is flying by. I can’t believe that the summer is more than half over. Gah!!! It’s been a good summer, though. Special K’s mom continues to be on the mend, so that’s a really good thing. She’s been home for a while now, and I’m sure that just having her own familiar surroundings is really helpful in her healing process.

We’ve been able to see friends and family and spent an awesome weekend out at the farm last weekend. There was a little too much alcohol consumed by me and my lovely husband, but that’s why we weren’t planning on driving home that night. There’s something about heading out there to be with our friends K&D, not to be confused with the friends from Wisconsin with the same names who also have a farm. Heading out into Virginia wine country, despite having to be on Rt. 66 to do it (one of the most loathsome roads in the country – I’m surprised it’s not in Connecticut, since I usually reserve my true ire for anything that brings me through there), is a wonderful experience. I can feel myself unwinding as the miles stretch out in front of us, with the Shenandoahs in the distance. It was a gorgeous, sunny weekend, even if it was hot as ass outside. We pulled into the driveway to be boisterously greeted by Mac and Pepper, their two dogs who are totally all bark and no bite. Very sweet-natured dogs (Mac likes to spoon with me) who may greet people loudly, but the tails are always wagging. We made our way over to the new patio, marveling at the recent work they’d had done on their house, and Mac and Pepper decided to resume their prior activity, lying prone in an attempt to cope with the heat. Our friends P&S were also there for the weekend, so we were greeted affectionately and lovely cold beers were soon in our hands as we scampered for shade.

We sat and talked and munched on some delicious appetizers, courtesy of P, and caught up – we hadn’t all been together since K and I got married in March, and K and I hadn’t been out to the farm since October – which is just a crime. No one should be that busy. Although my inability to sit or move without pain for a few months in the middle there, followed by the family health crisis and the trip to Italy may have been contributing factors.

P&S are getting married in September, and I am delighted for them as I think they’re great people individually and are great together. Since I have recently run the wedding planning gauntlet, I have tried to do my best to give them the benefit of our experience whenever needed, which usually starts with P calling me and saying “So, is it Bridezilla of me to do…”, and the answer is inevitably no, because she’s not that kind of person. She doesn’t call it her special day, she hasn’t told any of her friends that they’re not allowed to get pregnant because it would ruin the pictures, and she’s not telling the guests that they must avoid wearing certain colors because they would clash with her colors. But she must be a little nutty, because she did ask if I’d make her wedding cake. I obviously agreed to do it, as I’m very honored that she thinks that much of my baking skills. I’m a little surprised because she’s got eyes and has seen my cake decorating skills (best described as “rustic”), but that’s coolio – I’ve got time to practice, I’ve got friends who will be willing recipients of whatever test runs I come up with – it’s all good.

As dinner approached, P, K, and I, who all met at a very bad former job – leaving there was like defecting from Romania in the 1970s; anything was going to be a step up – decided that we should take the goats and the dogs for a walk before dinner. This is one of my favorite things to do there (mostly because we’ve never done it in winter, I imagine), but it basically consists of strolling down a quiet road, watching the dogs race off in the distance with their tails in the air, and pulling down some tree branches so the goats can munch on the leaves as a snack. And trying not to let the goats totally step on your feet (moderate success). And trying not to step in the large-ish patches of poison ivy (no freaking success at all – fortunately I washed it off with Tecnu, so the impact is minimal). We were strolling and talking chick stuff when we decided that we were getting hungry, and wanted to head back for the delicious dinner that awaited us.

You see, the other cool thing about going to visit K&D is that they have a killer garden, their own chickens, and they’re great cooks. So we had some grilled chicken (not theirs), grilled veggies fresh from the garden, and a salad with a spicy, garlicky sauce that was delicious. I devoured my dinner, and even in my inebriated state, I was coherent enough to know it was delicious. K did likewise and then quickly realized that he had made a mistake. I was busy wiping barbecue sauce off my face and hands (it wasn’t pretty) as he excused himself. Pobrecito. It took him a little while, but he later emerged ready to face the evening again. Fortunately, he had sobered up considerably, so he took the lead on managing the bonfire. There is just something about sitting out by a bonfire with your friends, sipping wine, and listening to good music. Nothing compares.

Eventually I started to drift off to sleep (this tends to happen with me), so K and I decided to head to bed. Fortunately, we did so by way of the hot tub, which was soooo nice. K woke me up before I drowned in the tub, and we went to bed. I actually managed to sleep in the next morning, and woke to the smell of sausages grilling and some homemade quiche, with veggies from the garden and eggs from the chickens, baking in the oven.

That is not a bad way to wake up, let me tell you.

I stumbled into the kitchen, following the delicious smells, and stepped outside to greet everyone. It was approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun by 9:30 in the morning, so that didn’t last too long. But I tried. We sat down to munch on breakfast, which was so very tasty, and continued our chatter from the night before. It’s nice to be around a group of people and have it feel effortless, and it’s also nice to have that effortlessness last more than a day. I think it’s easy to do in small doses, but one of the signs to me that we’re all likely to be stuck with each other for a while is that it doesn’t wear off. It’s a good thing – and one of the reasons why I feel really lucky to have the people in my life that I have.

After they foolishly asked to see all of our wedding and Italy pictures, K and I decided to wrap things up and head home – we were going to head to a Nats game, but the thought of all the work I had to do that evening ended up redirecting the car so that I could go home and hook up the laptop. Bleah.

For whatever reason, I couldn’t sleep that night. Every little noise kept me up – even Special K’s breathing kept me up. Not snoring, breathing. Granted, it was loud breathing that sometimes edged into snoring territory, but it was still primarily breathing. At one point, I thought I nudged him to get him to turn over – apparently I jabbed him in the gut with my elbow.

Whoops. That was totally not my plan.

I ended up working from home the next day because I figured that I wouldn’t get much done through an entire day at the office on a grand total of 1 ½ hours of sleep. So I got a lot done from the house, took the inevitable nap in the afternoon, and picked my computer back up after dinner. It wasn’t exactly the perfect end to the perfect weekend – but the weekend itself was just about perfect.