August

This month I had nothing to do and I also did not use my time wisely. At the start there I elected to begin writing new things. Fresh ideas. New perspectives. Maybe even something serious. But I didn't. Instead I found myself on a home improvement bender that has resulted in some tropical plantings, shelf installation, rearranging and subsequent furniture and crap donations. I painted and polished and dusted and I bet no one could tell that anything happened at all. I also finally cleaned the flower shop after my one tiny August wedding. 

In-between these things I've been "freelancing" for an overbooked florist friend. I enjoy freelancing because it's exactly what I do but without the grunt work and responsibility. I show up on wedding day, pack the car and then build fun things with others people's flowers. I also have a high pay rate as a freelancing professional though I work many fewer hours. With my florist friend I've gotten to goof off in some spunky new venues and make a few fun pieces that my sensible brides usually won't splurge for. 

We attended nephew August's 6th birthday party which I noted felt an awful lot like a strategic corner of hell, but as the lone woman present with no children, I was also alone in my dismay. There were 12 boys between 3 and 6 years old throwing legos while screaming and the parents casually drank wine and chatted over the wailing. I couldn't hear a thing they were saying and they minded me like I was the foolish one. 

One mother told me I looked frightened and told me that the trick is to focus on only one kid at a time. Don't look at the whole squirming blob, find one moron and laugh at his moronic ways. I honed in on a gangly blond. He had blue frosting on his face, a fist full of pokemon cards and was dancing a jig in place. Occasionally he would let out a rebel yell. She was right. He was a moron and in the moment I liked him. All in all, the birthday party did nothing to counteract my disinterest in becoming a mother.

This month, Pippa joined me in the office, read a fascinating memoir, and signed up for puppy boot camp after being forced to register as an offender. So maybe there was this little tussle between the pups and Brett's valiant, well-meaning finger found itself in Pip's mouth and broke just a tiny bit. If it weren't for the blood we wouldn't have taken Brett to the hospital. And if it weren't for the hospital, Brett wouldn't have had to admit that it was a "dog bite". 

"It's my fault," he told them, "I put my hand in her mouth." They didn't care. They made Brett name Pip on a legal document, and a few days later he got a follow-up call from DHEC. 

Pip heads to Edisto soon to learn how to behave in polite company. When she comes home, Grace is taking her place at camp for a few weeks. Brett and I are tickled, sad, embarrassed, delighted, and curious. 

For the record, we were not required to send the girls to behavior camp, we elected to on account of dog fights being frowned upon and Grace's ever shortening fuse. When discovering that vet stitches are three times as costly as human stitches we decided we'd save money if we were the only bite victims but the girls have expensive taste and prefer dog blood. 

In other news, after much protest and deliberation, Brett let me cut layers into his Prince Valiant hair bob.

It came out great and I'm quite proud of myself.

We have also spent lots of time with friends and family and people even though things are still iffy with that whole pandemic bit and I blame other folks for going out and spreading their germs but not me, I'm different. 

We had an adorably chaotic visit with Alston, Margie and Jordan and their two little toddling squirts. 

There was a "South of France" inspired afternoon repas with the Leisure Club.

We had Brunch with Ellie and Caroline where I had to fight Ruth for Brett's affection. She was after his peaches.

And lots of visiting with Liv.

Most importantly... dock time. It's a magical place.