Eight Days A Week

"I'm in a full pucker position," said Judge Adams. He was up on a very high-pitched roof with my husband when he said that. They were helping a friend finish his house. We laugh to this day about that expression, and every time we're in a tight spot, it gets said again. That's how I felt today, when I was trying to get out of downtown Atlanta after a closing. Folks were jockeying for position like it was a NASCAR race. I try to arrange closings with more local attorneys, but don't always get to choose. I hauled it home, ate leftovers and decided to hit the hay early, only to find that the sheets were still in the washing machine. Life is just like that sometimes. Our first-world-problems..... 

I sold my dear little camper this weekend to the sweetest lady. Ken hauled it to Newnan and fitted it into her teeny-tiny backyard (with his massive truck attached). It took an hour and a half to get it finally situated, without ruining something in the process. I was sentimental as we pulled away. I had taken that very ugly camper and turned it into something Barbie could be proud of. People would knock on the door when we camped and ask to see the inside of it. I left the dishes and pots and pans in it. How could I not? They matched the turquoise, coral and cream color palette. We had some fun in that thing and I hope the new owner does too. These Neanderthals are too big for a Barbie camper, so we got us another one, bigger and with bunks for grandkids. 

This next month might prove to be my undoing. I have to decorate a ladies luncheon, a wedding and a mansion (for Christmas), then a mural to paint for soon-to-be-present baby London Grace. We have two concerts with the Carrollton Wind Ensemble in the next few weeks (don't forget them scales!) Then there's my day job. And Thanksgiving and Christmas don't wait on anybody. I've been having trouble sleeping at night, wondering how I'm going to get all this done if London decides to make her entrance on time (she's due November 8). Her brother was three weeks late, so hope springs eternal, not that I want to wish that on my daughter. But the apple doesn't fall from the tree and the four of mine were at least 2-3 weeks late. I see Liz in all her glory, beautiful and shaped like a very ripe pear, miserable, but with all her dreams coming true. 

Dear Lord, You know I ain't got time to do all this stuff. I remember there's somewhere in the Word where you stopped time for, like, a whole day. I'm not asking for anything like that, but I'd appreciate it if you could slow everything down, just a little bit. It'd be just peachy if You could hold off London until at least November 13. And while we're at it, and since we're asking...our little Maddie is turning 9 this week and she'd like to know if You'd speed things up for her, just until Wednesday. Thanks in advance.