Well, for the second weekend in a row, we didn’t go to the cabin. Totally bogus, if you ask me. My Mom has been out of town at some conference. I’m not crazy about her not being around, but she tells me that her job is what keeps me in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed. I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt, and assume she means us having the cabin, and not the lifestyle that includes me having four major surgeries within two years, and now chemotherapy as the cherry on top.
After my Mom finally got home, we had to do some cleaning (that is the royal we, since I didn’t really do anything except contribute to the need to clean). She pulled out that super loud sucking machine (is it Comet who hates it?), and got down to business. Check out what she found…
So, the mystery of the missing tennis balls seems to be solved, as you can see. For once I was happy for the spring cleaning and the super loud, scary, sucking machine. Lots of tennis balls means lots of fun, even though I can’t run so great any more.
So, we didn’t get to do too much this weekend. My Dad worked outside, and my Mom cleaned inside. It seems silly really, because it just gets dirty so fast. It’s like this one saying, “Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition; the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day” – Simone de Beauvoir.
Next weekend, though, it looks like we’re going to get a three day weekend, and on top of that it’s supposed to be almost 80 degrees at the cabin. Hopefully my Mom remembers to bring some of those found tennis balls. I’m sure you all know why I’m going to need them…I’ll be spending lots of time down at the water, and I’ll be SWIMMING!! I. Can’t. Wait.
Oh Lincoln! You are so lucky to be able to go SCHWIMMING next weekend! And that monster that your mom keeps on a leash and pushes and pulls all over the place???? Yeah that one. Opie called that a dog eating machine. Stay out of its way. You see what it does to your fur balls, just imagine what it would do with you. The dog eating machine is bad.
Opie’s mom
Ooooohhhh, it was Opie who hated it so much. Lincoln also isn’t a fan of the dog eating maching. However one of the dogs here LIKES it. She actually gets vacuumed with the attachment. CRAZY.
i don’t like that dog eating machine either… i thought we had the only one, i didn’t know they were breeding and were all over the place!!!! those things need to be spayed/neutered or something to control the population. hopefully there’s not one hidding up at your cabin next weekend….be careful!!!
The sucking machine can’t be all that bad … what a bounty o’ balls it found! 🙂
What a great collection of tennis balls you have now, Lincoln! As long as the dog eating machine doesn’t get YOU – stay away for sure!
Hugs,
Holly
I like your quote on housework…couldn’t agree with you more! That pile of tennis balls looks like the one we have in our house but our tennis balls aren’t in such a nice neat pile – ours are all over the house where my dad is always stepping on them and then says a few words like @x&%$&!!
Enjoy all those tennis balls and all that swimming – music to our ears!
Mackenzie and Kobe
Those tennis balls seem to breed when left alone, too !! Maybe if you hide enough of them – and leave them alone long enough – you’ll never run out !
Sophie is terrified of the loud sucking monster, too. If she could climb the walls, or hang from the ceiling while it sucks up the hair-balls – she would do it. Our Angel Keaton used to love to be vacuumed. I have a remote vacuum – Roomba – Keaton would just let it bump against him over and over again.
Have a great time swimming at the lake, Lincoln.
Tana and Sophie
I love the the vacuum! It means clean! I love clean! I’m like Angel Keaton, I like my Roomba, too! Roomba scares the, ‘you know what’ out of monkeybutt and that even makes it more fun!
Lincoln, I can see why you lost that purple and white fake tennis ball! Fake tennis balls are for losers!
Housework is sooooooo over-rated for sure.
Erma Brombeck had a great quote too:
“My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.”
Roombas couldn’t pick up all the fur balls around here and tennis balls last about six milliseconds. A couple of chomps from Riley and they are demolished. We only use the heavy duty, golden-proof, guaranteed indestructible, solid rubber balls now. I have to say though that was quite the stash your mom found, Lincoln. Well done.