Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Heading to The Lake of Crystal
It's Crystal Lake time again. Time for me to load up in a mini van full of my cronie girlfriends drive the open road for a long time, and end up at a lake house far remote from anything like the normal routine of 1st grade Brownie troop meetings, 2 year old playdates, lots of dishwashing...and quality stitching time at the sewing machine.
Ahhh, 3 whole days filled with wine and women. Three whole days of eating at the best little Jewish deli this side of NYC each and every morning. Three whole days of sitting on a deck and watching the water slowly move left and right. Three whole days of touring every little west side Michigan winery and its requisite gift shop.
If only I wasn't so darn tired just getting ready to get in that mini van. I tell you it has taken me 2 solid days just to prepare for my dear father coming, who has offered to toss the Muffin Man a life line and come stay to help entertain the young'uns, and prep the house, the book bags, the lunch boxes, the laundry etc... Because God only knows I couldn't step foot out of the state without every bed linen changed and every set of size 2T pajamas being wholly and absolutely sparkling clean and neatly placed in that top drawer. Hello insanity, just toss a pair of jeans in the duffle and put your butt down in the van and go already. But, Friday is 1st grade picture day and we all know if I'm not here to fight with Ava about how she will wear her hair...world peace will certainly run asunder and my 6 year old will have ratty hair preserved for posterity and all of time in a Lifetouch gray background 2x3 photo. This is forever people, 1st grade class pictures are at stake.
And yet, I could use a little time off the cul-de-sac. So the little royal court that is run by moi will have to find a way to operate without it's benevolent dictator for three short days. I'm sure it will be filled with plenty of ice cream and swinging time to satisfy even my subjects.
T minus 16 hours and counting until minivan lift off. Perhaps I'll share a picture of the gals and I at Madonna's father's vineyard upon my return.