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I didn’t mean THIS busy!

April 10, 2010

When I said I needed to find a way to stay busy to keep my mind off the potential twin pregnancy in our immediate future, I did not mean this busy!

We’ve had a leak in our sunroom ceiling for, oh about 3 years now.  We’ve had a contractor here at least 6 times to fix it.  Sheetrock has been cut, rehung, taped, sanded, primed and painted.  And then it was done again.  And again…and ag- okyougetthepicture.

The entire deck off our master bedroom above was finally lifted and replaced, along with redoing the roof under the decking.   And it seemed to work, until these last two monster storms hit when we woke up to find water dripping from the ceiling in our living room and sun room onto our sofa and carpeting below.  The dogs sat trembling in a corner as if to say, “Don’t look at us!  We didn’t do it!”   So I fired up the batlight and summoned the saviors.

When the doorbell rang at 7:50 am yesterday, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this is what I got:

And then this
AndholyhellthenIgotthis:

Yeah, so that was for breakfast.  For lunch, I thought I’d take the dogs for a walk on the beach.  When we returned, here’s what we saw:

Landscapers! Cool!  Now I don’t have to worry about weeding, planting, mowing, raking and cleaning up the inevitable mess it all makes before I have to pick Skiddle up at school at 2:18.  Not 2:15, I was told and not 2:20.  Be there promptly at 2:18 and OMG IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT BEING LATE I WILL DIE.  Please don’t make me the last kid standing there the day before vacation!

But before I could even get out the door,  there was this.

Yeah, that there truck?  It’s delivering mulch.  And apparently fertilizer.  You know, of the, ah, manure flavor.

When the dogs were done rolling around in it, there were baths and I actually have a photo of it but forgot to load it into the computer before we got on the plane.  But before I could even get to that point, can I just get you to take a guess at what happened next?

Yep, the pile of manurey mulch was dumped in my driveway.  In front of the garage door.  Where the car was.  Did I mention that Skiddle begged me not to be late picking her up?

I think you all know how well that one went over.

So, anyway, we’re staying at the Sheraton Vistana resort for a week, for nearly free because they want us to buy a time share here.  And even though we told them we have no intention of doing anything of the sort, they still said, come on down.  And I wanted to tell you before we left for dinner that posting will be light this week.  Though if dinner tonight is abysmal as I’ve come to expect in Orlando, you will certainly be apprised of the situation post haste!

I know I shouldn’t be so hard on poor little Florida – but I’m a NY food snob – I don’t like the food in Italy either so make what you will of that.  Everyone always thinks, “Oooh, Italy! Land of pizza and pasta! Yum!”  but the fact is that Italy is more the land of coffee and cigarettes for breakfast (don’t bother ordering an egg cooked over easy because it does not exist there), a choice of exactly 3 sandwiches for lunch (no matter where you go – it’s the same 3 sandwiches: Panini with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato, the same thing plus pancetta and plain pancetta and cheese) and fish for dinner.  I’ve had overcooked pasta more times than I care to remember there and their pizza sucks.

But I’m not in Italy today.  I’m in sunny Orlando and I’m about to go have some dinner.  I will let you know if it’s worth coming down for.

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