How much wood can this woodchuck chuck?

As soon as the scrape on my chin heal to a round pinkish suggestion of a blemish (No!  Not a pimple!  A scrape!  Because falling is somehow better than breaking out.) the flu hit the house.  Much like a tornado, this flu hopped over some of us only to completely level other members of the household.  It is a matter of some debate whether those sickened got the luck of the draw.  The sickies are convinced that they have the worst of it - shivering, coughing, barely able to muster the attention necessary for Family Feud.  The healthies are exhausted and crabby from digging through the rubble and trying to bravely carry on in the face of the disaster.  During flu epidemics, we are all melodramatic martyrs. 

 

We are on the upswing now - I absolutely insist on that - and beginning to resemble our normally happy household.  In a spurt of inspiration last weekend, the children and I made some ghosts and decorated the stoop for Halloween.  Claire drew a jack-o-lantern on a sugar pumpkin that she got on a preschool field trip.  She set the diminutive Jack on the stoop.  He's crooked and dwarfed and ever so slightly forlorn.  We had to do something to make Jack look a little more intentional.  So ghosts it was!  And after 15 minutes of labor the stoop looks, well, the stoop looks like we took a stab at it.  Good enough!  Bring on the ghouls!

 

In an uncharacteristic lack of procrastination, I finished Claire's fairy tutu on Sunday night.  I was puffed up with accomplishment for finishing a whole FIVE days before absolutely necessary.  Then this morning, I saw that the preschool Halloween party is not actually on Friday but is today.  I depuffed.  Still, though, I finished ahead of time!  Almost!  I had only to tie some tulle on a scrounged toy drumstick while gobbling Cheerios and making ham sandwiches to finish the ensemble.  Good enough!  Bring on the insanely red and pink fairy!

 

Then, as if I don't have enough in my soup bowl, I signed up for a chili contest at work.  I am going to win - not by a superior chili but by superior meat.  It's ingenious, I think.  I will make the same old tired Midwestern combination of canned goods that everyone uses for chili.  But instead of ground beast, I will use chunked up beast.  I am absolutely convinced that all tasters will be so overwhelmed by the sensation of actual chewy beef hunks that they will put their vote in my cup while still engulfed in a meat daze.  Wish me luck!

Fall. And then a fall.

Fall has arrived.  I could not be more thrilled.  I don't care that it has rained more days than not.  I don't care that my yard is a pit of mud and 14 inch lag bolts (the neighbor built a new garage and my son is a scavenger).  I don't even mind that I had to make an emergency glove run because somehow, against all logic, all our gloves have completely gone missing over the course of the summer.  I only care that the weather is cool, soup is on the stove, and my lazy hazy summer brain is back to its normal sharp state.  Well, almost back to normal, anyway. 

 

Yesterday, I was walking a few blocks when I noticed a helicopter overhead.  I kept walking while I looked up at the sky.  Earlier in the day, I overheard a rumor that a local high school had hired a helicopter to hover their sport field and dry it out for a big game.  I was irritated by the wastefulness of it.  So when I saw the helicopter, I tried to figure out if it was heading to the local park or some nearby soccer fields when SPLAT!  Or, more accurately, THUMP!  SLAP!  THUD!  KERPLUNK!  I tripped on nothing.  I turned my attention back to my situation on the ground at the exact moment that my knees thumped hard.  I tried to save myself by quickly slapping my hands onto the pavement, but still managed to pitch forward thudding onto my chest.  I ended the whole series with a kerplunk right on my chin and then slid a few inches for effect.  It was a spectacular fall.  A passing motorist even stopped to check if I was ok.

 

Fortunately, I am ok.  I'm missing a bit of skin on my chin, but my clothes were intact.  My dignity wasn't intact to begin with, so no great loss there.  Today I am stiff and crabby - my regular self.  Ahhhhh!  Feels good to be me again.