It’s been a busy couple weeks, but let me catch you up in one area:

My sister and her family’s visit to The Shack. It was their kids’ Spring Break and the rest of the kids in their classes were off to beaches or other exotic places. I wish I were a fly on the wall when E told her classmates that she traipsed across the midwest to stay at a mobile home in Arkansas.

She’s still too young to leave out specific details like that.

So, what to do?

How about a picnic? The weather in early March was beautiful.

I threw some blankets and pillows down, set  up an unused door as the table, and then got to work…

…but not without helpers.

The menu was extremely fancy: Peanut Butter & Nutella sandwiches, apples, popcorn, and trail mix.

Pretty sure E’s friends were eating the same delicacies.

Well, we tried though, making them special by wrapping them in wax paper & ribbon.

Others were relaxing while we put on the finishing touches.

The table was set.

Entertainment in the form of poetry was performed.

But that’s not all we did, even though I would’ve been happy with laying around in the sun.

The night they arrived, I mentioned to the kids that I had an activity for them to do. They immediately decided we were going to milk a cow.

And I immediately decided to never let a kid guess what we’re going to do again. I suggested they lower their standards a teeny bit and guess again, but they were determined to milk that cow.

Sigh.

So I waited until the last possible second to tell them we were only going on a mini-scavenger hunt around The Shack’s back roads.

Before doing so, I pulled ten year old W to the side and assured him that I knew this was too young of a game for him, but to just play along.

Actually, R asked me to do that.

He said that W would appreciate the nod towards his emerging maturity, even if it were something he would have liked anyway. And heck if I know what a young boy likes, so I followed R’s instructions to a T.

Halfway through the hunt, we stopped to take photos with our neighbors. They’re the only neighbors that wave at us. Usually it’s just to flick flies away with their tail, but we’ll take what we can get.

After the hunt, newspapers were read…

…the adults stayed up late around the chiminea after the kids went to bed, chit-chatted over a couple bottles of wine, and laughed at past dates gone wrong. I could share the story of my sister getting her legs hooked into a bar stool and falling over in the middle of one, but I don’t want to embarrass her.

It did make me double over and cry, though.

Then Woody Allen was read some stories.

Wait, that’s Ruth.

Oh well, I do like his movies even though he’s weird.

…and even more lounging was done before they left. It was quick trip and went by even quicker once they arrived. But it was a lot of fun. I do enjoy a slumber party.

And I highly doubt any of E’s friends discussed how cow chips were used on the Oregon trail.

But that’s okay. I’m proud of those cow chips.

And regular chips too.

Now I’m hungry and about to make my own scavenger hunt… in the fridge for food.

What else is new.