Revolution.

You know how people usually revolt against their government just as things start getting better. It's as if they realize the possibilities at that point, and it is then that they push for everything. I'm there. I'm about to revolt against all my subcontractors. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I just want to get out of the damn tunnel already! The hope is that we'll be done tomorrow, but I'm thinking the rain is going to push that until Monday. Oh, we're just so, so close. Plumber, baseboard guy, and painters tomorrow. Then I'm guessing painters back on Monday, but maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised. (Who am I kidding.)

In other news...

Gumbo is home and is being quite the trooper for someone who was hit by a car four days ago. It's going to be a long recovery for him, which means lots of hands-on care for us, but we're just glad to have him back.

The kids have a new hobby. Normally I would be thrilled with them sharing a hobby. Good sibling bonding. But this hobby is to gang up on Mommy about driving too fast.
"Mommy," Ainsley says, "the speed limit is 4-5."
"Yeah Mom," Hawthorne adds, "that's 45, and you're going 60. That's too fast."
"Yes, Mom," Ainsley's turn again, "You need to be safe."
"Oh y'all know I'm being safe. Mommy is a very good driver. I would never do something dangerous with y'all in the car."
This same conversation, or one very similar to it, now occurs almost every time they're in the car with me. Oh the horror! Where did they even learn about the speed limit?! Damn school safety week. They should be talking about how very, very bad it is to stand up in grocery store carts (so listen to your mother) not the importance of following the speed limit!

I'm hosting a garage sale this weekend though there is absolutely no evidence of that right now. Usually this happens because I seem to believe that my superhuman ability is to slow down time so that I can accomplish tasks that in real life take three times longer than I think they're going to. This time it's because I've decided in advance that what gets done, gets done. If I manage to clear a few things out of my living room, playroom, and numerous overstuffed closets, I'll consider the event a success. Pretty displays or not. The friends helping me with it will be shocked when they see my lack of effort and organization. Or will they? They didn't know me before I had children! I'm pretty sure I'm not the organized go-getter I once was. I can hardly remember that person actually.

And totally unrelated... please spread this info around the world:
"Hays" is plural.
"Hay's" is possessive. Or is that "Hays'"
Anyway, we aren't the "Hay's." That's the point.