Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Over the holiday weekend, we moved my son and daughter-in-law to a little town about 20 miles south of Houston and about 120 miles west of Beaumont. My son's friends packed the moving van and me, mom, my sister Bonnie, my sister Terry and her husband Dan and two of their kids (Katie and Alec - Elliott had to work, lucky dog) unpacked the van (along with Cory and Jamie, of course). We did an efficient and speedy, but unblogworthy, job in 100 degree heat.
I consider any strenuous activity that I come away from with the ability to still move my right shoulder to be a successful venture. My family, on the other hand, were all sore and taking a variety of drugs and rubbing Aspercream all over their bodies. My calves were sore but I thank the laziness of my youth for my relatively supple joints (except for the aforementioned shoulder).
While my siblings were marching in the drum and bugle corps or playing football or playing volleyball in high school, I was hanging out with my no-good hippie friends doing as little as possible. Who knew that laying around on beanbag chairs listening to Canned Heat and Black Oak Arkansas would have it's advantages all these years later? Power to the laid back people.
The picture below is a box I refused to open because of the *porcelain love statue* allegedly contained within. I didn't want to know.