Petunia rambles on and on….

We are back.  Tired.  Sore in spots.  Grinning.  And sorry it’s all over.

Started out with a mad dash on Friday evening, 18 July.  As we planned on leaving quite early Saturday morning, we needed to take our Sophie poodle to the kennels the night before.  Pop couldn’t get off work until 5p, and we had to have the dog there by 6p.  Allowing time for him to get home, change clothes, drive 18 miles, and get lost, I think it was a miracle that we were only 10 minutes late seeing the dog securely locked in jail.

The dog was boarded at Shawnee Kennels in Milford, DE.  I dealt with Bonnie several times and she was wonderful.  Very strict about shot records – which is great for the health of all the dogs.  I was inside the kennel facilities both dropping off and picking up our girl, and the building passed the “sniff” test.  Quite frankly, this kennel full of dogs smelled better than many homes I’ve been in.  My dog came out, after 10 days, and I could still smell the shampoo/conditioner that her groomer had used days before she went in.  That says how extremely clean this place is and how well they cared for my dog.  I can’t imagine how often the place must be hosed down.  Large indoor sections, raised beds, outdoor runs.

While we made jokes about leaving poor Sophie at Camp Granada, if the need arises, I wouldn’t hesitate to leave her there again.  The only problem we had, which was totally our fault, was finding the place.  In the town of Milford, there is an Old Shawnee Road and a Shawnee Road, both of them veering off the same main highway to the right.  Being unfamiliar with Milford street names, and running late, of course we took the wrong one.  When I picked her up, I used the GPS and it routed me to the correct street.  Had I been that smart on the 18th, we wouldn’t have been late!

And then we were off to the Delaware State Fairgrounds in Harrington.  As I expected, it was probably the hottest day so far this year.  (I think this is required by state law?)  We had to park seemingly two states away and walk up from there.  As usual, though, parking was handled well by folks who have been directing the cars there for years, and  wee shuttles were available to take you to the entrance gate if you weren’t accompanied by a husband who said he wouldn’t be caught dead riding it. 

We were able to grab a quick hot dog and a beer each on the way to the show!!

And then we got to see Rodney Atkins who opened the show.  I thought my husband was going to wet himself when he heard “Cleaning This Gun.”  This act really got the crowd up and pumped for Brooks and Dunn!

 

We weren’t real close, but the show was really great!  Damn near a sell-out crowd.  AND it was finally cooling off some. 

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After the show, because it was cooler, we went to see the sheep.  Yes, I was that strange person in the barns at almost midnight, talking to the sheep, commiserating with the “clothed” ones about the heat, petting the newly-shorn ones to soothe what might be irritated skins and bruised dignities, talking to them all softly, telling them that all was well and that they would be home again soon.   We Bah-ed back and forth for quite a while, and I was surprised by how large some of them were.  Being a new-ish spinner, petting them took on extra meaning.

 

 

I told my husband that I had to have her (or one very much like her, realizing that her owners are probably also in love with her!!)  As we live in a small development, in a small house, set in the middle of a parcel of land about the size of a large bath tub, my husband used his often-rehearsed reaction – he looked at me like I’d lost what little sense I ever had, and walked fast enough to get far enough ahead of me so that no one would know we were together.   Sadly, he’s had a lot of practice at this routine; I’ve given him so many reasons.

When I caught up with him, he asked “How do you think you’re going to pull this one off, living here in town?”   I thought maybe I could fool the neighbors, and the city inspectors, if I told them I had gotten another Standard Poodle?  He told me I was out of my fucking mind.  Pop showed little encouragement to this idea.  Maybe it does need some work.

 

 

Maybe I need two sheep, so the first one wouldn’t get lonely?

 

If you need me tonight, I’ll be at the Delaware State Fair – as usual, it’s being held over the hottest damn days of the summer so far.  I think this may be some sort of requirement – I remember taking the kids to the Fair 20 years ago, and bitching about the same thing then!!

Last night, Aunt and Uncle took to twins down to the fair.  They must have had a wonderful time, because they were both asleep within 14 seconds of hitting the bed.  I asked them questions, trying to find out all about their impressions of what they saw.  Here’s what I now know.

The pigs stink

The cows stink.

The pigs cry very loudly.

The sheep had a black face.

The pigs stink.

And if you should call my cell tonight, I won’t hear it because I’ll be here, singing and dancin’ like an old fool!  I’m hoping they’ll do “She Used to be Mine” and I’d appreciate it if the Fairgrounds would provide a dance floor.  Just for Pop and I – cause there’s nothing I love more than dancing with him.

Last night, after dinner, and bathtime, and an episode of their favorite show, and drinks of their favorite peach-flavored water, and petting the dog and kisses all around, the twins went to their beds.

But apparently not to sleep.  I heard thumping, and bumping and scurrying, and giggling.  And chattering.   So Pop went down the hall and told them that it was bedtime.   I think they already knew that.  And all was quiet.   For a few minutes.  And then it all started up again.    I was hoping that they would settle down on their own, after a busy day, but it was not to be.

Pop gives me the “it’s your turn” look.  I get to play Bad Guy, as he’s too much of a marshmallow.  So I went down the hall, walking really loudly, making sure that each footstep slapped the wood floor.  I wanted them to know I was coming, and I slowly opened the door.   (we have learned not to swing the door open quickly as they are often right behind it.  Smack!!)  And in the darkened bedroom, I see one twin, just beyond the swing of the door.  It’s Nick.

“What are you doing?” I asked the pajama-clad wee fellow who was looking directly up at me.  He just stood still and didn’t answer.

So I asked, “Sir, what are you supposed to be doing?” and he whispered, “Sleeping in my bed.”

“That’s right, Nick, so lets just turn around and get back in under the covers.”  And as I followed him toward his bed to tuck him back in, I heard a voice from the other side of the room.  “I’m here in my bed, where I’m supposed to be.”

I’m so glad it was dark in there, and I barely made it out before laughing.

Sometimes, the Grandma hat is the most fun to wear.