Mom's on Strike

Last weekend was not one of my favourites, it's got to be said. It started out well when Michel and Ilona called to see if we'd like to come over for margaritas and gazpacho - which turned into margs and guacamole n' chips, gazpacho, potato salad, grilled sausages, wine, and a peach and blueberry tart - but things skidded downhill from that auspicious beginning.

Actually Saturday was kind of fun too now that I think about it, going to the Farmer's Market and volunteering at the Humane Society where I was this close to coming home with a kitten. She was so unbearably adorable, I wouldn't even mind if she grew into a cat, but alas, I believe Satcho would have something to say about all that.

So really it was Sunday that threw me into a tizzy. The plan was to go through the girls' closets to get rid of everything they don't wear or is too small, so I can see what we're missing for this coming school year. The first thing I noticed was that the laundry baskets were full of clean clothes they couldn't be bothered to put away, and the closets and drawers were full of folded dirty clothes. Really? How hard is this?

While I'm explaining for the nth time how the free laundry service works in this hotel, I spotted something furry in the corner. The girls are not allowed to have food in their rooms because of past messes, but that doesn't mean there's no food in their rooms... so I was hoping it wasn't a furry thing of the alive and scurrying kind. Nope. Just contraband. While the mold itself was, I suppose, living, the blueberries it was feeding on were very much not.

"This. Is. Not. Okay."

"What's up with these?" ... as I picked up some of their good clothes with something very red on them. Amazingly, no one knew. I hoped for a second that it was just washable marker, but when I picked up a damp doll's dress - a very deep red doll's dress - I knew that Cayenne had been hand-washing her kids' outfits again and not paying attention to where she was drying them, again. Argh!!

Went outside for some deep breaths of fresh air. Inhale... exh - huh? Our good kitchen knives. In the mud.

"Acaaaacia!!"

Who raised these children????


Knowing Mom was having a bad day, Cayenne decided to be helpful. I had a number of white items in the washing machine so she went ahead and started it, right after tossing in Acacia's white - and fuchsia - tie-dye sundress. When I registered that I was hearing the machine run without having switched it on, I went to check on things...

Bubbles.. pink bubbles... spewed from the washer door and down onto the hardwood floor.

(So if you happen to see a pink rug in the guest bathroom someday, you'll know why...)

My guess is when Shakespeare came up with his Comedy of Errors, the errors were actually funny. Last Sunday? Not so much!!


The good news is the previous weekend was really great. Three generations of Durango Cofmans went to Grand Junction to watch Acacia compete in the Western Slope Swim Meet where towns from all over the western half of Colorado come together with their best. Acacia did well, finishing 4th (out of 23) in freestyle; 3rd in the 100 IM (where you swim all four strokes); 2nd (of 23) in the backstroke; and 2nd (of 17) in the butterfly. She was robbed of first place in the butterfly, though. She finished a couple of body lengths ahead of the next swimmer - and she was in the final heat of the race, so she swam against the fastest girls - and she was two seconds ahead of one other quick swimmer in another heat, but for some reason they decided not to use the computer times, and used the inherently inaccurate hand timers, and gave the win to the other girl.

Acacia's not upset about it, so I should take my cue from her. It's all good, right?

(Better photo to follow))

For both performing so well and handling very graciously the ROBBED 1st place finish , I'm extremely proud of her.

Now if only the talent extended to choosing sticks instead of knives to cut up her mud pies...