I should go on vacation more often. Yes, it means loads of prep work, hassles in getting everything packed, and last minute rushing, doubting that everything will get done on time. But the trade off is that we have been so relaxed there has been nothing of worth to write about for the last two/three days. What day is it anyway?

The kids have been uncharacteristically quiet, friendly, and caring toward each other. Heath's parent's house must be stuck in some sort of a vortex where laundry shrinks and rarely needs to be done. Or maybe it's just in normal time and it's my house that's in a time continuum and the dirty clothes reproduce threefold every hour. Oh, and the pool is now peaceful, cool, and so very relaxing. But that's probably because I handed over all responsibility when we are there.

The only funny stories that have occurred have been being told by the adults somewhere around midnight every night. And unless you were hear playing the card games with us, you probably wouldn't find the humor in a story about a paracoot, discharging cards, or the fact that my husband grew up living in places like a funeral home, McDonald's, and most peculiar of all, a crazy, circular, pink house they are not even sure had a bathroom.

Times of rest are good. Now if I could only motivate myself to get my homeschooling lesson plans done...