Why do I STILL get up at the butt crack of dawn (5:15am) even when I KNOW I don’t have to go to work? Because my body hates me. I believe.
My Dad made it in town yesterday. We went for a picnic at the park and went swimming. A VERY brilliant thing to do during 95 degree days with high humidity. I probably could have stayed in the pool FOREVER if it weren’t for dinner plans.
So, I’m up. I’ve got the dishwasher running, I’ve got REAL (with caffeine!) coffee brewing for my Dad, and I’ve got breakfast ready to go. And by “ready to go” I mean “the biscuits, in the can, are in the refridgerator.” I don’t think I have EVER made homemade biscuits in my life. And I’m not going to ruin that streak now.
I think we’re off to the Botanical Gardens today. (Do you know we almost go married there? We did. But then we decided we’d rather have a cheaper LOCATION so we could buy MORE BEER. Best. Decision. EVER.) I hope to have some good pictures of pretty flowers that I would totally kill if they were in my care, thank god they’re not.