Monday, February 27, 2012

Atlanta Wrap Up and Home Sweet Home

As most vacations do, ours rapidly came to an end.  We did squeeze another illegal run down to the pond on the golf course to feed the geese.  We went with a stealth like nature and no one seemed to notice us.  


The boy had become the pied piper of all birds with bills.


The next day we found a few more geocaches for a total of seven, and then headed up to see Kennesaw Mountain.  It was here that one of the fiercest battles in Georgia during the Civil War, took place.  Bloodhound took them through the trenches and since it had become quite blustery my son wore my green wool coat.  Isn't he the cutest little druid, complete with a walking stick?




When you reach the top of the mountain the Appalachians can be seen to the north, and to the south there is a great view of Atlanta.  At the very bottom and center of the picture is the hotel, where we had spent the week, and in between the two is the Dobbins Air Force Base.




The wind was howling up here and the sound it made as it bent the tops of the trees, combined with the history of this site was quite chilling, to both body and soul.




A split rail fence marks the trenches created by the Confederate soldiers.




And then it was time to go home...


It was amazing what had transpired in our house during the two weeks we were out of town.  A few days prior to our return we learned that our washing machine had given up the ghost.  Our son had taken his laundry into the laundry mat and our daughter had decided to do her's by hand at home.  She now has a new appreciation for the washing of clothes before the invention of the washing machine, and her fore arms are thick with new and sore muscles.  She had no idea that a bath towel could be so heavy when soaked.  And my son has learned which neighborhoods have the best laundry mats. 


Also while we were gone, one of our kitchen chairs had been broken.  They are over one hundred years old and when my girl sat in one it gave up the ghost and left her lying on her back.  So I returned home knowing that my oldest was now going to take up the hobby of antique chair repair, which meant we may or may not have a refurbished chair in the next few weeks.  I'll keep you update on this fiasco repair process.  


The most disturbing catastrophe was the loss of our coffee maker carafe.  It seems that while our oldest daughter was hastily vacuuming in preparation for our return she knocked the pot to the ground and it shattered.  Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but we didn't find out until we were an hour from home.  Morning without coffee is not an option and Bloodhound reverted to some previous life, stunned me with this coffee making talents and gladly boiled a pot for me on Saturday, using a pyrex measuring cup and a tea pot.  


Just in case any teenagers are reading this blog let me clearly state that leaving your parents to find their bed without sheets at one in the morning after a long drive, is not a good thing.  I told my daughter that she could spend the night out as long as she didn't leave us any messes.  As I beat my head on the door frame of my bedroom I was firmly convinced that this scene fell under the mess category.


But by far, and without a doubt, the biggest mess we found upon returning home was in my son's open Lego box.  Evidently, even the animals cannot behave themselves when we are out of the house.  Or maybe the teenagers failed to empty the litter pan, and the cat needed a cleaner place to do her business.  I am really not sure what caused this, but if you are ever out of clean litter for your cat box, trust me when I say you can always just add Legos.  Cleaning it was like sifting for gold, and on that note I'll let your imaginations take it from here.


So Saturday was spent buying a new washing machine, finding a new coffee pot, emptying the fridge of  science projects, and disinfecting the boy's Legos.  And Sunday was consumed with twelve loads of laundry, yard work, and time spent shooting evil glances at Bloodhound because there was no one else to blame for this post vacation apocalypse...and I needed a scapegoat!


Home Sweet Home
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