While you might think that me getting sick during our family reunion last weekend was the end of the excitement…please allow me to share a bit more. 
I’ve been having ant problems in my kitchen (anyone else have those big fat black ants as big as a bar of soap?). This doesn’t please me normally, but certainly not when I have a houseful of company coming over.
On Thursday afternoon several of my aunts and my Nana arrived at my house. After receiving hugs from all of us and the grand tour of our home by Malachi…we all went into the kitchen and they said, “Tell us what we can do to help!” (Hehe, little did they know I had a plan for them.) Remember all those strawberries I had picked the day before they came? I told them I had a great job for them, opened the fridge and showed them my three remaining buckets of strawberries that needed to be taken care of.
They cheerfully sat down and began capping my strawberries and putting them on cookie sheets for the freezer. (Don’t worry, we saved a bunch to eat too.) As they were working, and I was finishing up my farmer’s market baking and we were all chattering…
I saw crawling around on my counter-tops some of those big black ugly ants. While I’m usually a very sweet person, those ants push me over the edge and I turn a bit vicious. Please keep in mind that the following exclamation came out of nowhere to my loving and hard working strawberry capping Nana and Aunts.
My hand suddenly came down hard on the countertops in order to squish the offenders…and I said in frustration, “Ooohh, all these ANTS in my kitchen!!! They’re driving me crazy!!!”
All of my aunts looked up at me in surprise and I quickly realized that they thought I was frustrated with the AUNTS in my kitchen…not the ANTS in my kitchen! Good thing they figured out what I was talking about and didn’t start throwing strawberries at me. Because I really needed them to help me with all those berries love my aunts and wouldn’t want to hurt them in any way.
But the REAL drama came on Friday night when all of the family had met at my house for dinner. It was almost time to eat, and we all went outside to greet my cousin and his family who had just arrived. (We really just wanted to see his new baby that none of us had met yet…you know how it really is.)
So we’re all out on our lawn, and suddenly my Aunt Karen takes a fall, and as casually as ever says, “Hm, I’ve just broken my foot.”
A few of us chuckled (me included) because she’s sometimes silly…and we watched for her to get up.
And she said, “No really, I heard it pop…I’ve broken my foot.”
My uncle and brother took her off to the ER, and indeed, she had broken THREE bones in her left foot.
Here’s a picture of her a couple of days later before they left to get back on the plane. (THAT must have been a fun plane ride.)
I think someone took a picuture of the two of us looking as pitiful as we possibly could that Sunday with me having a fever and her having her broken foot.
I’m so terribly sorry I don’t have that picture to show you. I would have loved for all of you to see what I look like when I’m miserable with fever and can’t breathe very well. 
Filed under: 
