I have had a glorious week of vacationing. I went to the church camp I have been going to for the last 30 years or so. Every year, like clock work, I go to visit friends, family and sit in two 2 hour church services a day. I can always tell when it's time for me to head back to church camp - I spend the two weeks beforehand wanting to throttle every idiot I meet. And I find it much harder to restrain myself than normal.
So, I spend a week in North Battleford. Hanging out in old buildings from the war where pilots were trained. Living at my Grandma's who lives in an old orphanage in an apartment at the top of the steepest set of stairs ever.
I had numerous goals for the week.
1) Take that dang dog Davy back to Grandma
(She able to keep him for now! I'm so happy.)
2) assess if Grandma is insane and/or a danger to herself
(Yes and no, but she's okay for now.)
3) play volleyball
(I played every day but one and did very well. I think I may join a league.
Or at least contemplate it whilst eating chips)
4) flirt outrageously with every available guy
(check - for all the good it did me)
5) dress to kill them all
(double check- and I have promised Ironmannigan an elaborate
list of everything I wore each day)
6) play with babies and dogs
(done and done)
7) drink as many orange floats as possible.
(I am SO good at this one)
It was great.