Post Summit Summit

Well, I couldn't resist as we had to crawl back through the mountains to Pennsylvania in the dark.  Brrrrr.  However, we are safely home and have rounded up all the critters from their various “band camps” much to their delight.  The boys are studiously not talking to us and Ana is sleeping off her weekend.  The cats forgave us pretty quickly. 

It has been a hell of a night.  We drove out of DC fairly smoothly until I got a little weary around Breezewood.  So we had to eat at a Perkins Restaurant.  The kind of place with processed everything, lots of folksy-cutsey decor and country music (Froggy 98) blaring in the bathroom. I swear they gave me Sanka.  We both now have stomach aches from all that processed goodness. I knew we should have gone to Bob Evans.  At least eggs are normal food.  I think.

Then, Ledcat took the wheel.  We kept the heat down so we didn't get sleepy.  I tried to talk cheerily of holiday plans and presents.  She grunted a lot and muttered something about setting all of our computers afire so there'd be no further need to travel to blog conferences.  The guy at the toll booth told us the Steelers were losing.  Ledcat was depressed. I was secretly hoping that meant no playoff game Steeler Nation folk in the Northside.  Alas, they pulled it out.  We stopped in Norwin to pick up the boys who were very low key and well-behaved, but smell alarmingly of kennel.  I dropped Ledcat and the kids at home and went to pick up Ana.  She had handled her first separation from us with surprising aplomb.  I loaded her and her 10 tons of band camp junk in the car and then spent 30 minutes trying to capture a stray dog (with a collar) and avoiding the 50 million police cars cruising Brighton Heights.  Apparently, my cell phone call to Ana's Aunt Debby was on speaker phone while I was trying to simultaneously find the bacon strips, secure Ana to the seat belt and use her Chihuaha leash to capture a 40+ dog.  In the dark.  I'm sure it was hysterical on that end of the phone call. 

I couldn't find the dog.  I am sad about that.  I hope he went home.

After contending with cat litter, trash, unloading the car in the midst of the departure of the Steeler Nation and peeved dogs, I am worn out.  I'm glad I checked Facebook because I forgot about a meeting.  There is some weirdness on my inherited Palm Pilot that is preventing Datebook synching so I am very lost when it comes to all my appts.  Is the Universe telling me to buy the damn Blackberry already? 

So, that is the behind the scenes glimpse of a post-blogging-summit wrapup.  My head is swirling with ideas and I need to rest with them for a few days so I don't dive in to even more overcommitment.  Ledcat wants to track down the jeans Cathy Renna was wearing.  I want to talk with the pastor-blogger from Massachusetts who reminded me of one of my favorite foster parents.  We both have pledged to avoid the Hyatt chain of hotels in the future. 

I have six minutes to get to bed. Did I mention that the alarm clock in our ritzy hotel room was broken and needed to be fixed by a “technician” who never showed up?  And that my 6:45 wake up call came in at 5:00 AM?  And that since there was no alarm clock, I got up and completely ready to go before catching a glimpse of the real time on my cell phone.  That was great. 

At least I am not forced to wear a country gal costume and work at Perkins. And drink Sanka. 


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