
But you know, a special occasion like this wedding doesn't come along every day, so it requires a gal to do a little more "polishing" than usual, ya know? The nails and the pedicure are really just the begining.
Let's talk hair removal, gals.
Forgive me for being candid for a moment, but lets face it ladies, I am dangerously close to 40 years old and hair removal has become of paramount importance. I do it like it was a full time job. The waxing, tweezing, shaving... at various times,I hit it all. I log in some serious hours.I have a schedule. (Incidently, all you just-turned-30's.....write it down. You heard it here first.)
So here's the thing:
The dress is arm-bearing.
Now, I think that we can all agree that nothing says, "I'm a freak-hermit with no life", like hairy, monkey arms protruding from a lovely silk dress. Nevermind that the hair is blonde (thank-you Lord)...it still looks like a boy I sat next to in 5th grade. I used to stare disgustingly at his bushy, blonde haired arms during reading group. Ew.
I digress.
I was running short on time. We were frantically cleaning up from Easter,unpacking the kids from Mom and dads, unpacking Race from his trip, and PACKING for Florida the next day. So I figured I'd take a short cut on the arm hair. Just before I got into the shower I spread my arms with Neet. Nice and thick. 3 minutes go by.
Ouch......is it supposed to be painful???
Oh well, many hair removal methods are painful, so....no biggie.
I step into the shower.
OUCH! Damn it. That HURTS! I don't think it's supposed to hurt like that.
When I get out of the shower, I gingerly dry my arms and as I examine them I see that they are indeed, hair free. Unfortunately, they are also completely covered from shoulder-to-wrist in painful blisters and large red splotches!
Race looks at me incredulously. He's speechless.
I dress myself, trying hard not to cry out as the sleeves of my shirt rest on my raw, red appendages.
The Wedding is day after tomorrow.
Ah..yes....nothing says "I'm a strung out, needle-using drug addict" like blistered, raw, splotchy arms protruding from a lovely,silk dress.
I wimper to myself while slathering on aloe and hoping for the best.
While driving my 1/2 the next day, I had to hold my arms in a certain position on the steering wheel and keep the air on full blast, blowing on my arms in order to keep them from bursting into flames. Jack, of course wanted to know, "MOM! WHat HAPPENED to your ARMS!!?" The answer probably didn't move me very far up the intellectual ladder for him.
That night, in the hotel,I examined the damage again. Well, the blistering looked better, but unfortunately the rest of my arm looked as if I had been in a really bad skateboarding accident. That's right: Road Rash. I slathered the aloe on, once again. It was on so thick that my arms were green and slimy.
So there I was, in some nameless hotel room with my slimy, green arms laying motionlessly on the outside of the covers for the entire night.......I must not be touched. My wings of flame could not bear it.
The next morning Race got us up early to get on the road. I was less than sunny in my disposition that morning, and I let him know about it on several occasions. As I sat in the passengers seat, he returned from checking us out. He opened my door and handed me some coffee as he tried to divert his eyes from my hideous stumps. "Thank-you for the coffee" I said coldly. "What do you want me to do?" I asked. "Nothing, babe. You don't have to do anything" He said speaking in a voice like you would use for the mentally deranged. "You don't have to do anything, just sit there and look hot like you always do", he cooed. He stepped back and grabbed the edge of the door to close it and added, "And don't speak for the rest of the trip". And he closed the door. *grin*
The Wonderful Magical Aloe Vera saved my life.
By the time of the wedding, the pain was completely gone, and the road rash not very noticable. Of course had anyone stroked my arm, it would have felt like heavy grade sandpaper, but....you know....no one did. And after a few drinks I didn't even remember about my awful monkey arms.
So I don't know what the moral of this story is. Can you think of one?
Don't rush hair removal?.......... Is that a moral? Do you ever wonder if he's just hideously ugly??
CHEERS!!!
Melissa

We got our paddles and we were off. The last thing that the old guy called out to us was, "Try and be back by 4:30!!!"
We never saw another soul the entire time we were out. It was so incredibly quiet. And take a look at that water. It literally plays tricks on your eyes. The water is so dark that it is a perfect mirror, and unless your paddle..........or something else........is going through it...it is perfectly still.
It was just as beautiful as I remembered it when I was a kid. I was so busy taking it all in that I almost didn't spot this big mama. She was laying out on the bank sunning herself. She had a few babies that were nearby. Now. I was super excited to see this big gator . ANd I thought that we were going to have to strap Jack down into the boat with the straps from our life vests. Jackson has grand visions of becoming the next Steve Irwin and I have NO DOUBT that if we had let him, he would have been out of that canoe in one heartbeat.
I was so busy taking it all in that I almost didn't spot this big mama. She was laying out on the bank sunning herself. She had a few babies that were nearby. Now. I was super excited to see this big gator . ANd I thought that we were going to have to strap Jack down into the boat with the straps from our life vests. Jackson has grand visions of becoming the next Steve Irwin and I have NO DOUBT that if we had let him, he would have been out of that canoe in one heartbeat. You can see here that we have eased up on her. I am the one taking the pictures, and I didn't zoom in here. You can see her eye already on us.
This was plenty close enough for me. But Ohhhhh....Noooooo.......we have to paddle CLOSER. I swear if that thing had ONE move, I'd have walked on top of the water to get away. I kept pleading with Race, "O.k, O.k, I don't wanna go any closer"...followed by my hoarse whisper, "STOP!" All the while, Jack is saying "Why can't we get closer?", Can I get out of the canoe?", Can we just paddle over there (pointing to a nearby bank) so that I can get out and try to get closer to her?"

Only in the state of Georgia can a boy get a picture taken of himself like this: For Jack....this made it all worth it. Great stuff!








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We went through many shops and loads of outdoor stores. There were dogs out with their owners everywhere and of course Jack would ask each person if it was ok if he pet their dog. These folks love their dogs and it shows in the animals. (I do believe one of the favorites was a British bulldog named "Clive". Jack just couldn't get enough of him!)The dogs are all well-behaved, on leashes and travel in and out of the stores and the tea rooms and pubs with their owners. We ate lunch at the "Strawberry tearoom". It is a lovely little shop that over looks the town center of Keswick. 



We pulled up to our self catering apartment. This is what it looks like in the daytime and up close.


We took everything back to the barn and ate. After the kids went to bed Race and I had a bottle of wine while watching the moon rise and listening to the wind sweep across the fells. We all slept so soundly that night within those stone walls and could hardly wait to hike the fells first thing in the morning!






