Curve Ball

We got back from vacation in the Poconos with The Man's family last Friday. I ran the writer's meeting Saturday, have barely unpacked and have been working feverishly on getting ready for the Youngest Urchin's birthday and party Friday and Saturday respectively.

Unfortunately, our 15 year old suv decided to be ornery and not pass inspection. Repairs to said geriatric vehicle would cost at least as much as it's worth. So now we're scrambling to find something comparable to replace it with.

That we can afford.

And will tow our pop-up camper.

And that we can afford.

And fits two car seats.

That we can actually afford.

And will be reliable.

Before we leave next week for Montana.

Plus my mother-in-law is having ankle surgery tomorrow, and I'm heading over to a friend's house who has ALS to weed for her in the afternoon. And I need to make cupcakes and wrap presents and decorate and get the carnival games ready for about ten five and six year olds who will be coming Saturday to my back yard and I'm praying for good weather because there's no way all those little kids and their parents will fit in my house and I want to trim the bushes so they don't eat said children as they run by between face painting and sack races and I need to pack for Montana.

I could go on, but I'll leave you with this little nugget of personal information.

I've developed an eye twitch over the past six months and both the family physician and the ophthalmologist who recently tried to shiv my eye blamed it on stress.

I have a feeling they may be right.