Back at the ranch, other stuff is going.
Last weekend, we got the heck out of dodge and went to Peoria. Why, you ask? Because many, many people have asked why the heck we went to Peoria, often while wearing the same expression one might have when they discover that their neighbor clubs baby seals as a hobby.
1. It was close. In a Prius, it took less than a tank of gas, round trip. Less than five hours total driving time.
2. There was an orchard--Tanner Orchards. The website said ponies and barrel trains, which didn't actually start until Sept. 1, but there were apples, my son's second fruit of choice (strawberries are first), goats to feed, and a kick-butt playground. We played for hours.
3. They have baseball. The Peoria Chiefs are a Cubs single A farm team. We just missed seeing Carlos Zambrano's rehab stint. Plus, they also had a kick-butt playground. And fireworks. And Dippin' Dots. And a big dalmatian for a mascot. Frankly, when you're four, it don't get no better than that.
But wait! There's more!
I taught the fourth session of my new ESL class last night. Eight people so far, from all corners of Asia and South America. The levels vary from advanced beginner to advanced plus. (No, I didn't come up with those designations. Yes, they're real designations.) I used to teach five hours a day, five days a week with the same class. Now? Two hours a day, two days a week. I get finished with my opening activity, and only have 20 minutes left. Reentry is occasionally a little rough, but otherwise it's going well.
This afternoon, I'm going carpet shopping with my mom and gram. Why? Because my gram is the kind of woman who believes, deep down in her soul, that a nice house has carpet in the kitchen. And there is no talking her out of this travesty of woven fabric. Trust me, I've tried.
I've got shrubbery to put in the ground (pictures forthcoming next week) (I hope), and walls to paint (ditto). Can't do that until the floor dries.
Gratuitous floor pictures:
Before . . .
During . . . (Note the primed walls and painted ceiling. Do not note the temporary light fixture.)
After. Ooooh, pretty. It almost makes up for the odor of urethane that has permeated every single thing in my house.
Toss in some dishes in the sink and mounds of laundry, and it's just another week here at the Anderson homestead.