Last night my friend Laura braved the ice and snow and gave me a ride to book club.
I never volunteer to host book club because my living room sits about five people (even family scripture study feels squishy sometimes) and the bedrooms are right off the living room, which means my kids would sit awake all night listening to everyone talking. Not that we'd say anything terrible, just that they should be sleeping.
Attendance was so sparse last night, however, that I really could have hosted it. There were seven women there. I didn't even read the book (but I finished a book I've been working on since January sometime, so); it was still fun.
On the way home, Laura and I talked about ukulele practice. The roads were still rather icy so I knew Andrew would want to take the van in the morning (there's no way his scooter, trusty though it is, could navigate all the ice ruts), which would leave me without a vehicle. But we're supposed to play at Relief Society night this Thursday so we had to get together to practice.
The best—the only—solution was to have me host ukulele practice.
"That'll work," I said. "I'll just need to clean my house."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said.
"Oh, I really do though," I said.
Our entire house was covered with soggy snow stuff and muddy footprints—just part of the joy of snow days!
When I opened the front door, though, I caught Andrew in the act of cleaning the house.
"You're home early!" he said. It was 11:00 PM. That is early for book club night.
"Yeah, Laura didn't want to drive home too late because the roads are bad. You're cleaning the house! I thought you'd be working or something!"
This morning all I had to do was coax the children into putting piles of folded laundry away and vacuum the floor.
The doorbell rang just as we were finishing lunch. The first four guests had arrived. A few minutes later six more rang the bell. All thirteen of us settled down in the living room to tune our ukuleles.
"Rachel's coming with her kids, too," Laura said. "So we'll wait a few minutes before we get started."
"Oh, really?" I asked, looking around. "We're going to have to move the couch back, I think."
So the couch-sitters got up and we moved the couch back about a foot, uncovering length of unvaccuumed carpet. Crushed up leaves, toy box diaspora, random LEGO pieces, and a few dusty fruit snacks littered the ground.
"Quick!" Laura laughed. "Just push everything back under the couch! And next time we're at my house we can move my couch and see everything hiding under there."
She's a good friend.
Practice was a little chaotic with a grand total of 4 adults and 14 children scattered around the house and crammed into the living room (I should probably add a disclaimer that two of those "children" were over the age of 12).
I think it was less crazy when we excused the children so that the grown ups could work on the song we'll be play on Thursday, but I'm not really sure because although the living room was less crowded we still had 12 spare children running around the house (those teenagers I mentioned will be performing with us).
It was an hour and a half of chaos. Complete and utter chaos.
But we got some good practice in and I think we're just about ready for Thursday night ("just about" being the operative phrase).
Just as everyone was filtering out the door Andrew arrived back home. That poor guy has just had the worst day. He followed our neighbour to the auto shop early this morning so that he could give him a ride home. Then he stuck around and did some laundry while everyone slept. Then he left for campus before anyone was even awake. Then he had an accidental nap at his desk and woke up feeling sore and I asked him to come home early so that I could go to the doctor.
My appointment was actually yesterday but the office closed due to the snow, so I had to reschedule it for today.
That went fairly quickly, and Andrew had a quiet house while I was gone because Benjamin went down for a nap and the girls went outside to play with the neighbours in the leftover snow, but when I pulled up in the driveway our neighbour came running out to see if Andrew was home and if he could give him a ride back to the auto shop so he could pick up their van.
"Sorry, honey," I said. "I know your day hasn't gone the way you planned."
"I'll get some work done sometime," he said.
I'm not sure when, really, because we're just getting ready to settle down for pizza/movie night...
I never volunteer to host book club because my living room sits about five people (even family scripture study feels squishy sometimes) and the bedrooms are right off the living room, which means my kids would sit awake all night listening to everyone talking. Not that we'd say anything terrible, just that they should be sleeping.
Attendance was so sparse last night, however, that I really could have hosted it. There were seven women there. I didn't even read the book (but I finished a book I've been working on since January sometime, so); it was still fun.
On the way home, Laura and I talked about ukulele practice. The roads were still rather icy so I knew Andrew would want to take the van in the morning (there's no way his scooter, trusty though it is, could navigate all the ice ruts), which would leave me without a vehicle. But we're supposed to play at Relief Society night this Thursday so we had to get together to practice.
The best—the only—solution was to have me host ukulele practice.
"That'll work," I said. "I'll just need to clean my house."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said.
"Oh, I really do though," I said.
Our entire house was covered with soggy snow stuff and muddy footprints—just part of the joy of snow days!
When I opened the front door, though, I caught Andrew in the act of cleaning the house.
"You're home early!" he said. It was 11:00 PM. That is early for book club night.
"Yeah, Laura didn't want to drive home too late because the roads are bad. You're cleaning the house! I thought you'd be working or something!"
This morning all I had to do was coax the children into putting piles of folded laundry away and vacuum the floor.
The doorbell rang just as we were finishing lunch. The first four guests had arrived. A few minutes later six more rang the bell. All thirteen of us settled down in the living room to tune our ukuleles.
"Rachel's coming with her kids, too," Laura said. "So we'll wait a few minutes before we get started."
"Oh, really?" I asked, looking around. "We're going to have to move the couch back, I think."
So the couch-sitters got up and we moved the couch back about a foot, uncovering length of unvaccuumed carpet. Crushed up leaves, toy box diaspora, random LEGO pieces, and a few dusty fruit snacks littered the ground.
"Quick!" Laura laughed. "Just push everything back under the couch! And next time we're at my house we can move my couch and see everything hiding under there."
She's a good friend.
Practice was a little chaotic with a grand total of 4 adults and 14 children scattered around the house and crammed into the living room (I should probably add a disclaimer that two of those "children" were over the age of 12).
I think it was less crazy when we excused the children so that the grown ups could work on the song we'll be play on Thursday, but I'm not really sure because although the living room was less crowded we still had 12 spare children running around the house (those teenagers I mentioned will be performing with us).
It was an hour and a half of chaos. Complete and utter chaos.
But we got some good practice in and I think we're just about ready for Thursday night ("just about" being the operative phrase).
Just as everyone was filtering out the door Andrew arrived back home. That poor guy has just had the worst day. He followed our neighbour to the auto shop early this morning so that he could give him a ride home. Then he stuck around and did some laundry while everyone slept. Then he left for campus before anyone was even awake. Then he had an accidental nap at his desk and woke up feeling sore and I asked him to come home early so that I could go to the doctor.
My appointment was actually yesterday but the office closed due to the snow, so I had to reschedule it for today.
That went fairly quickly, and Andrew had a quiet house while I was gone because Benjamin went down for a nap and the girls went outside to play with the neighbours in the leftover snow, but when I pulled up in the driveway our neighbour came running out to see if Andrew was home and if he could give him a ride back to the auto shop so he could pick up their van.
"Sorry, honey," I said. "I know your day hasn't gone the way you planned."
"I'll get some work done sometime," he said.
I'm not sure when, really, because we're just getting ready to settle down for pizza/movie night...
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