The Laboriousness of Non-Labor

Happy Labor Day weekend to you all as it draws to a sunset finale of a close this year.  I hope some measure of enjoyment with family, friends, sleep, eating, and the like, took place whether you were on the work schedule or not today.  These days, employment that requires actual work on Labor Day is NOT a thing at which to shake your tail feathers!  Better to curse your attendance at your 9 to 5 than to bemoan your lack of a regular paycheck. 

As our next month of Saturday and Sundays are shaded in with activities requiring us to remain on the homestead, I had high hopes of filling this holiday weekend with fun and relaxation away from Marilyn Court.  Either a nice two days of hotel amenities and exploration in Chattanooga, or a segmented series of outings to places within a 60-mile radius -- waterfalls, paths, coffee shops, restaurants, parks -- both of which would provide us with a bit of escapism and time together as a family.

Well, we got the 'time together as a family' part right!  Leave it to mom's uterus to describe the circumference of 48 hours on the clock for the Valdez Bunch.  Grrrr.  Extreme fatigue on Sunday ruled out wandering the streets of downtown Nashville, but resulted in an afternoon stay in the living room suite of the Jamison Place brown brick B&B.  Our worn leather couch keeps the WELCOME sign on throughout the year in anticipation of my monthly bookings.  The familiar mock-labor associated with aforesaid internal organ put the kibosh on our anticipated Labor Day adventure to the home of UTC and the world's longest pedestrian bridge.

My stellar cast of company included Mockingjay and Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson, along with Ashley, Sarah, Zachary, and Jimmy in a rotation which would let up briefly before commencing in the extreme on Monday . . . with the addition of the infamous heating pad.  Picture drenched PJ's and a sweat-beaded forehead in trade off for little or no pain -- as long as I remained relatively supine.  There was a mild spurt of energy yesterday evening which allowed me to walk the dog for her 'newspaper' mile, enjoy a cup of hot tea with my hubby at Starbucks, and moodily hang out around the fire pit on our patio with the family and a couple of friendly neighbors.  Supporting roles were played by half a canister of light Original Pringles, Duos Cheese Nips, and several full-on S'mores with dark chocolate.  Multiple ibuprofen chasers every four hours.  You get the picture?

So, though we went nowhere, we did wander the crime ridden streets of LA with a Georgia peach of an investigator, gaze upon the oasis of my backyard by firelight, and fought side by side with rebels in Panem (Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games series for those not in the literary know).  My kids were reliable companions, distracting me as needed; and my husband, he was quite wonderful in his capacity as nurse to a grumpy gal of vacillating emotions -- even returning with a slice of strawberry birthday cake from Julia's bakery via a neighbor's celebration earlier tonight.  So, though I can't guarantee plans made every 23 days, I think it's safe to assume we'll rebound, regroup, and rely on our little family's propensity for closeness no matter the disruption.

And how was YOUR labor day, folks?