Yeah, thanks for that, people who told me wow you're not even that tan! when I got back from vacation.
I mean, yes, I take the sunscreen pretty seriously and did have something of a girly hissy when my legs raised a pinkish hue after a morning of paddling despite my SPF 45 (Neutrogena - you are no match for the Pacific), but I don't really want to come home from a Hawaiian vacay to be told that it doesn't look like I've left my living room in a week.
Makes a girl feel a touch sad, you know?
Not that I am sad, mind you, because I didn't sit in my living room all week. Unless you consider this patio my living room, and based on the amount of time I spent sitting there with a stack of books and a bottomless G&T, I suppose it could be.
Anyway, Maui was grand, as you might imagine, and I won't bore you with the expected vacation recounting minutia beyond the following:
Swimming in the sea
Riding inanimate objects during moments of questionable sobriety
Hangover at the airport
There you have it.
Though I will expand briefly on that last point if only to show you one of the awesome birthday gifts bestowed upon me by my beloved:
What? You can't determine from this photo the birthday gift to which I refer?
Well, it's not the obviously awesome potting bench repurposed from our discarded kitchen cabinets, because that was a birthday present a few years ago.
And it's not the also awesome gardening organizer hanging over the potting bench because that was a gift from Donk for a previous holiday. (Thanks, Donk! I love it!)
And you know it's not the breaker box because, you know, that makes no sense.
HINT: It's the chest freezer.
Yes. And I'll admit that this was a pre-agreed upon item so don't get all oh my god Bubba is so busted right now for giving a gift only acceptable in the '50s because I was and am all about this thing.
This thing that will let me store every last tomato that comes off the plants that went HOG FUCKING WILD while we were out of town. And the split-half of beef we have coming from the local ranch. And the gallons (yes. gallons.) of blackberries I haul home from my parents' every time we go up there. And holiday baked goods. And and and...
Well, I've wanted a chest freezer for some time. Ever since Bubba quietly mentioned that it might be a possibility and then definitely after I visited my sister and saw hers and just knew I needed one, too.
We're like that in our family - all derivative in the ways of household appliances.
And also it's more fun to pack bags of tomatoes into a freezer during the sweaty hot months of August and September than it is to stand over, say, a giant boiling pot of water for an entire day while watching the boob sweat expand to cover my entire body.
Not that I'll stop canning - oh no, I still have plans for a pressure canner for all those peppers - but now I can bring my stress level down a notch and maybe fend of the end of season Psycho Wife Shitstorm that occurs when I realize I have exactly 1 free hour on the weekend during which I need to can many tens of pounds of tomatoes.
It is not pretty, is what I'm saying, and I'm sure our lives would be better off without it. Poor Bubba, he hides.
So - Yay for the chest freezer! And also for the other fabulous gift Bubba gave me which I'm sure I'll bitch about right here for you all to see as soon as I can figure out how to get it working.
And by it I mean this Garmin GPS watch.
I plan to take it out for a test drive during tomorrow's run, so you know, tomorrow's Craft: along post might be interrupted with my cries for help and/or my farewells as I transport myself into a parallel universe by touching the bezel in an unapproved manner.
All told though - great birthday, awesome vacation, no sunburn.