Blogging four days in a row one week has no bearing on what will happen the following week. Just so we're all clear on that.
Abbie came home last weekend and Noelle (of the beautiful brown eyes) was here, so of course we ate too much and had a baking marathon, but that's what we do when we're together.
Abbie spent time listening to Ben tell stories, which he is famous for, and I forgot how to focus my camera.
We started our Saturday by rolling three very large logs up onto the trailer. I wanted to get pictures of the event, but something about 800 pounds of oak rolling back over my family kept me pushing. What, you don't keep stacks of logs in your front yard waiting to go to the sawmill? We do, along with the Y from a large tree (hickory, maybe?) standing in the middle of the driveway. It's like a sculpture. Our neighbors love us.
Anyway, after the log rolling, we went to the gym, then came home and made the brilliant decision to cancel out all our hard work by baking The Pumpkin Bread. With chocolate chips. And two batches of Deb's Granola. And a pork roast, mashed potatoes, and asparagus for dinner. And then after dinner we made a second batch of pumpkin bread because we believe in overdoing everything food related.
Sunday morning I woke up with a food hangover, and what better way to fix that than having a football-sized burrito from Chipotle for lunch after church? Then Abbie left for Lynchburg, Noelle left for wherever it is she's living for the next four months, and Man-squared and I came home to sleep it off. But first I had more pumpkin bread just to see how much I could cram into my stomach at one time. Then I slept it off.
Which brings us to this week.
Monday was just a normal day of gym, work, laundry, make dinner. (Are you still here?)
Tuesday I made up my mind I was going to run 3 miles, since I haven't done that yet and the 5K in South Carolina is just six weeks away. So I went to the gym, got on the treadmill, and actually did it in 31:55. Yay, me!
This afternoon I was sitting at my desk when Man-squared came tip-toeing through my room, quietly unlocked the French doors, and went out on the deck with his gun.
It's a constant war with groundhogs here, and Pete is all but useless now that he's gotten a taste of chasing deer out of the tomatoes. He doesn't even look for the small animals anymore.
Now you're probably wondering why you stuck around for all that, and I can't say I blame you. But Thursday I'm driving up to Georgetown to meet a friend for dinner, so that should be good for some stories if I live to tell them.
Be thankful ~