The Apple, It Does Not Fall Far From the Tree

My parents arrived in Petticoat Junction Saturday, just in time for lunch. Since the children were more interested in taking their cousin (who is visiting with my parents since they are keeping him over his spring break) to a high school baseball game in Hooterville than in breaking bread with their elders; the Pod People and I were on our own for the meal.

Your loss, chillens! We took advantage of being child-free by dining at a Mexican place in Hooterville that specializes in authentic Mexican cuisine, including classic margaritas, of which, my father took full advantage.

He did a fairly decent job of finishing the thing off and was mostly stable when walking to the car after the meal (mostly being the relative term, here).

Since they had already thrown caution to the wind with alcohol, the Pods decided to indulge in a bit of dessert, as well.

Fried ice cream is definitely not on the Lenten menu, so, I got to watch them eat the entire thing. I'm guessing that was payback for something heinous that I did to them back in my childhood-probably that time I stood in the aisle at church and urged my sister to run before my mother could spank her.

Speaking of church, my mother and I attended mass last night, so, I have managed to be faithful to my Lenten vows, thus far, despite the temptations placed before me by my parents. I am feeling quite virtuous.

Just the way the parents raised me to be.

You're Killin' Me Smalls

The Man-Cub just pulled a chocolate cake out of the oven. He baked it for his grandparents, who weren't able to make it to Petticoat Junction yesterday as planned, but, who are making the trip tomorrow, once the weather has cleared up.

The Cub plans to ice the cake with a fluffy white marshmallow frosting, which, happens to be one of my favorite flavors of icing, and; he is quite proud of his culinary efforts.

You all remember that we are smack dab in the middle of Lent, right?

If I could remember how to pray the rosary, I'd be praying it and asking for strength right now because, that cake smells ah-mazing.

Lest We Forget That Springtime in Colorado is Bi-Polar

Monday evening, I went to the Man-Cub's baseball game. Despite a steady breeze, the weather was quite mild. I did choose to watch the game from my car, but, when I got out to take pictures of the team, the sunshine warmed my face and I was fine with a light sweater.

The boys were perfectly content to play the (very long) game, not minding the fact that it went the entire seven innings (first time they hadn't been ten-run ruled in the fifth inning so far this season) in the least.

The cherry on top, of course, was the fact that they won the game by three runs.

The boys have another game this evening and my parents are making the trip over the hill to watch, so, of course the weather has taken a turn toward wet and cold. Because, I can't invite my parents to a game played in good weather, that would go against the stellar record we have going that includes sitting through snowstorms during football games and drizzling, freezing rain falling during baseball games. Indeed, I am starting to think that the only games they will ever enjoy in relative comfort will be the basketball games, given the fact that they are always played indoors.

Gah, Colorado. Gah.

The Best of the Best and All the Rest

Here are a few of my favorite tables from the luncheon. They include a completely awesome Coca-Cola table that my friend Rose put together and the baseball table that my friend Allison's mother came up with.

Another favorite was a table that featured a full-sized bicycle and an awesome picnic in the park theme. The bicycle reminds me of my beloved Lulu, and the table made me itch to break Lulu out of the garage, air up her tires, oil her chain, throw a baguette and a hunk of cheese in her basket and take a spin in my local park. That, my friends, is the sign of a successfully done luncheon table.

Of course, the rest of the tables were amazing and each one had it's fans. These are just my personal favorites.

And, as usual, I am already excited for next year's luncheon, and, not just because I will, once again, get to relax and enjoy the event without running it.

Awesome.

All American Springtime

So, the luncheon went spectacularly well. Mostly because I didn't have to do a damn thing except for serving my guests their lunch, sipping wine, visiting with people I don't get to see more than once or twice a year, and, ultimately, cleaning up the mess.

The mess wasn't even that big of a deal; with The Teenager's help, I had the table dismantled and the dishes loaded in my car within a twenty minute time span. That's pretty good. Plus, once I got home, everything-with the exception of my wine glasses-went straight into the dishwasher, saving me most of the hand washing.

I also got tons of compliments on my table. The overall theme of the luncheon was All American Springtime, and I knew there would be red, white, and blue patriotic tables (there were) as well as baseball themed tabled (yep, two), so, I had chosen my theme to be classic American but not star-spangled; I chose Sipping Iced Tea on the Porch. Because, porches are American. Rocking chairs on the porch are American. Iced tea is...um..well, Southern, at the very least.

And, I already owned so much of what went on my table, it was a no-brainer for me. My table was indicative of my porch philosophy, which, is apparently well-known as numerous women approached me at the luncheon to coo over how much the table made them want to get started with Porch Night season.

Bring it on, says I.

Anyway, here are some pictures from the luncheon, including some of me with my partner in crime- The Teenager-and her father, who graciously agreed to serve wine at the event, despite his history with old ladies who pinch (no pinches this year, but he did get a marriage proposal which he should have accepted since the old woman in question has a shit-ton of money and The Teenager's college financial aid award was less than impressive. Also, Sister Wife! And, I digress..).

Clearly, I am biased, but; I thought my table was the best. I'll post pictures of some of the other tables in another post, though, just to be fair.

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

Yesterday, I primped and polished and buffed and glossed until I shone. Then, I carefully slipped into my new dress, the dress that I spent weeks searching for, only to have the zipper break as Hugh attempted to zip me in.

To say I was disappointed would be a vast understatement.

Hugh braced himself for a blow-up, but, if I have learned anything in the time that I have been employed at Day Job, it is that a minor crisis does not a ruined day make. So, I grabbed a suitable-if not stunning-dress from my closet and slipped into it, instead.

Then, The Teenager and I headed to the event center to make sure that my flowers had been delivered to my table (they had, and they were gorgeous! Pictures and a full luncheon report to come, tomorrow). Then, I did my photography duties, snapping shots of all of the tables, until 10:00, when the store at which I had purchased the Dream Dress opened.

I then grabbed The Teenager and we went to return the dress. Once we got to the store, it occurred to me that the same dress, in one size smaller, might fit, so; I tried it on, and, lord of all lords, it fit. So, instead of a refund, I exchanged the busted dress and walked out of the store in the Dream Dress in an even dreamier size.

On the way back to the event center, The Teenager commented on how well I had handled the whole ordeal and we had a great talk about the things in life that are worth stressing over and the things that just...aren't.

I shared with her the motto that I recently wrote on my white board at work, the saying that I repeat to myself every day as I leave work, in an effort not to take the problems of other people home with me: Not my circus, not my monkeys.

The teenager is planning to use that quote as her motto when she is stressing over college stuff, high school stuff, etc., and; I can't help but think that it might be one of the most important things that I have ever taught her.

I hope so, anyway.

T-Minus Twelve Hours and Counting

My table for the luncheon came together as well as I had hoped, and, with tomorrow's addition of the centerpieces, it will be totally good to go. Assuming, of course, that the centerpieces fit into the narrow area left down the center of the table (those tables are a lot more narrow that I had expected).

Since I completed the work on my table early, I didn't get to see the majority of the other tables; the couple that I did see, however, were awesome. Like, Martha Stewart level awesome, so; I have no reason to expect anything other than another fabulous event, tomorrow. Plus, I hand-picked the women who will be sitting at my table, so I know I'll be having fun.

Speaking of fun, when I finished with my table, I went shopping for some jewelry to go with the dress that I purchased yesterday. Unfortunately, the search proved far more difficult than I had anticipated and I ended up driving from store to store before finally finding just what I was looking for (and a few things I wasn't looking for but couldn't pass up).

The items I purchased will look great with the dress and I am actually pretty excited about putting it all together. It's a nice change from last year, when I had to wrestle myself into two pieces of Spanx just to corral the rolls of fat that threatened to make me look like a coral-colored Micheline Man.

Take my word for it; Micheline Man is a good look on no one.

Except, obviously, on the Micheline Man.

And, I digress...

...so, luncheon in T-minus twelve hours and the only thing I have to worry about is what color to paint my toe nails.

Score!