I came in the house from pulling weeds this weekend and my 12 year old says, "Where were you? I thought you'd had a stroke! I looked everywhere!"
To which I would say, "Um, I don't think you looked that hard because I was right in front of the house. Pulling weeds."
"But the mixer's on!" she said.
"You mean now?" I asked, vaguely remembering that I was making banana bread at one point.
"Yes!" she said. "We came in and the mixer was on and we couldn't find you!"
I found three old bananas after lunch and started making banana bread. Then one of the kids asked about bringing up a box from the basement so I stepped out of the kitchen to answer. Then John pulled up with the camper, to be cleaned and loaded for the county fair. So I went outside. We got it unhitched and then loaded up the dogs, which John and the kids were taking for a bath (prepping for the dog obedience show on Monday). Then I pulled a couple weeds in the flower bed while they were grabbing some brushes. They left and I was on a roll, so I kept weeding all the way around to the front of the house. Then I realized it was hot and I was dripping with sweat and this was maybe not the best time of day to pull weeds.
So I headed back into the house, where upon I learned Jenna thought I'd had a stroke somewhere because she came in the house and the mixer was running and I was nowhere to be found.
So I guess I can see where she might have thought that.
But here's the thing: It's not a stroke. It's fair week. My brain is addled.
Forgive me if it's quiet around here this week. You can rest assured we're showing and sweating and eating some good fair food, and hopefully no one is actually having a stroke.
And if it's your fair week, too? Best of luck! And don't forget to thank a fair board member.
(Also, the banana bread turned out fine, in case you were wondering.)