THE BEST LAID PLANS OF DUSTBUNNIES....

I think it is possible that I was maybe just a little too eager to get the Oompas out of the house.  Perhaps I showed a wee bit too much enthusiasm.  I might have brayed too loudly.  When Dickidoo offered to fill my tank up so I could come up on Saturday (and bring some stuff for them) I accepted because for one... I love the event and really did want to camp out, and two... I'd still have Sunday and Monday to myself.

Becca had the cooties. 

And now I have the cooties.  Thanks Bec.

At first I thought my throat was sore because I was singing at the top of my lungs on the 1 hour trip up the mountain.  John Denver and Pavarotti have that effect on me.  By Sunday morning it was painfully obvious that these aches and pains were not caused by my Rocky Mountain caroling.

I have the fricken flu! 

And one of the things I had to take up on Saturday... the turkeys for deep frying?  Well, guess where they were on Sunday morning.  Yep, on the floor of Big Red, thawing quite happily 1 hour east from where they were supposed to be.  Grrrrrrrrr²!

That was the absolute end to any plans I had made for my little mini vacation.  I went back up the mountain after work on Sunday.  I felt like kaa kaa but it was worth the trip.  Florence Mountain Park is beautiful this time of year, and the people we camp with are some of the most wonderful people on earth.  And my she-devil daughters seem to have temporarily bonded.   I found evidence on my camera after I kidnapped it back of them touching in a manner that does not inflict pain.  This one's a keeper, it may never happen again.  As for the round-trip turkey, well deep fried turkey is just awesome, thats all there is to it but deep fried turkey in the mountains is positively heavenly.  Must be the moutain air that just makes people nicer and food tastier.  We should all live in the mountains.

My hectic schedule really did a number on my already cootie infested body.  I feel like road kill.  I probably look like road kill but at this point I really don't care.  Walking hurts.  Breathing hurts.  My chest hurts, my throat hurts, my muscles hurt.  Even the roots of my hair hurts.  I worked a full day today, but only because if I had called in sick I would have lost the 7.44 hours of holiday pay I got for today.  Fortunately the day passed fast.

I must be sicker than I realized.  While sitting on the pot I realized that I had put my undies on inside out after my shower this morning.   I'm feeling a lot better after some flu medicine and a nice nap, but my Hanes For Her are still inside out.  It can wait.

So now I'm just waiting for the return of the Oompas.  The house still looks like it should be declared a State of Emergency.  I had planned on straightening up but now I'm thinking... why bother when the gang is due to arrive back from camp any moment now and will no doubt drop everything on the floor as they unload the Hemi.

The silence in this big old house is almost deafening.  Can it be that I am actually looking forward to the sounds of Oompas?  Nah... probably not.  At any rate Dickidoo just called.  They'll be home in about an hour and he wants me to pick up something for supper... and BEER!  I must be feeling better because beer sure sounds good right now.  But for now I'm scalding my throat with Folgers.

I hope they bring home some left over turkey.