Yes, a VampFest update is coming soon--tomorrow, I promise--but it's been a little crazy and somewhat fun since the time I nodded off about two o'clock Saturday morning after VampFest, so without further ado, here's a quick recap of the author's life since the pre-book launch and fundraiser:
* Came home to an electrical issue that became an electrical problem by morning. Praise God an electrician lives next door and quickly fixed the problem.
* Two of my teens had warehouse work that afternoon, which was not done on Friday, because of the fundraiser. So they went in one direction with their stepfather, and I burned up the keyboard with stories due by Monday morning.
* Sunday morning we took a pass on church because we had to clean the warehouse. This is usually a several hour project that takes the majority of a Sunday afternoon, but because of an event, had to be done in the morning. Missing Divine Liturgy and its accompanying sacraments is always hugely disappointing to me; the fact I caught up on filing and bills while Rebekah ran around the house with her obligations only made me feel marginally better.
* Packed bags for sleepover and work the next morning. As usual, when I'm trying to transfer my village for the day, I forget stuff.
* Spent several hours cleaning, then over to my mother's house to clean up and change clothes for Big Finale, the annual chef-created, all-dessert fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties. Although I had written about the Big Finale in the past, because of church obligations and financial constraints, had never attended one. This year, however, Timothy was representing Joliet Junior College with a deep-fried, taffy apple cheesecake he created; his submission won Best Dessert. Unfortunately, we missed that part, since Sarah and I had to leave early for Bryony marketing meeting. Congratulations, Timothy and Joliet Junior College!
* After the meeting, I returned to my mother's, where Sarah and her four year old son Lucas were staying while they were in town, for a girls night in, the first time I had spent the night under one roof with both daughters in nine years. The girls watched the Chicago Bears game with my mother while Lucas shared popcorn with me. He counted out his kernels in English and Japanese; I caught up on mail and pretended to work while really scrolling through my News Feed on Facebook. I stayed up past midnight chatting to a friend on the phone; my daughters sat up watching Sixteen and Pregnant on Sarah's laptop.
* A couple of hours later, Rebekah's phone alarm blared Korean pop music, and I was awake. I stumbled down the stairs through a dark house to put on coffee, check mail, and get to work. Since I'm technically handicapped (I'm not disabled; just clueless when it comes to technology), and lost when it comes to simple laptop tasks, such as adjusting my volume control, "You got mail!" boomed through the quiet house, but Sarah and Lucas, sleeping above in the loft, did not stir.
* I put the finishing touches on a couple of stories, enjoyed breakfast with my father, and then realized I only had the cell phone and email of my first interview. I called Ron, who sent Daniel up to the attic for my appointment book. Ron could read every phone number clearly except for the home number I needed, but he guessed it was an eight. I figured if that was wrong, "three" would probably do it, but that was incorrect, too. "Nine" wasn't much help, so I called the gentleman in question's cell phone, left a message, and did the same via email. I sent the pet picture for Tuesday's story, and my cell phone rang. It was he, and the elusive number was "five!"
* I quickly followed up that interview with my second, checked mail, and took a brief nap, then devoured an eclectic lunch with the girls and Lucas. When I came home, the cats were highly ecstatic to see me. That could only mean one thing.
"Daniel," I called over the radio where he was folding Joshua's clothes in the laundry room. "Did you feed the cats at noon?"
"No," Daniel said, "calmly shaking his head and folding a T-shirt. "We're out of cat food."
Be it ever so humble....
