So, this is a little out of date now, but it's hard to fight off two kids who want to type. (And there is nothing legible that comes out of their help.)
Last Friday night we went golfing with Ryan. He played and the rest of us rode in the buggy—much to Molly's delight. We stopped in at the snack bar for something to tide the kids over. (We reached the course at 5 pm, when the twilight rates started and hadn't had anything to eat yet.) When we came out, Ryan noticed that his driver was missing. It seems that someone stole it out of his bag right in front of the door to the pro shop/snack bar building. Audaucious.
Six holes later as we were enjoying the view of Ian's favorite hole—a little lake where a heron is often seen—Molly stepped in a fire ant's nest. Oh the agony! She had on her Mary Jane crocs and it took me a second to get her shoe off her foot. Her poor foot was swollen so big she had to wear shoes several sizes too big. I felt so sorry for her that I finally broke down and asked my friend who has all sorts of home remedies if she knew of anything, and for the record, I am absolutely convinced that her baking soda paste worked. As soon as I put it on Molly's foot she giggled—very good sign since just a little while earlier she had flinched at the hydrocortisone. Then she asked for some and rubbed it on the bites scattered up her leg and more on her foot. It took the red out immediately and by the next morning she could wear her own shoe.
Ryan played a couple more holes and we bailed on the eighth when it became aparent we were going to have to wait on the foursome ahead of us who were waiting on the people ahead of them.
So we went to our favorite snowcone place, which happens to be across the highway from the turn off to the little race track that they have here. We happened to follow a couple of cars on trailers and decided to check it out, since the kids had both had good long, late naps and would be up anyway. So, we took our snow cones to go and grabbed a plate of barbcue from the fund raising group in the parking lot and headed over to the race track. We had a great time watching the practicing. Ian loved it of course, but Molly did too. She kept laughing and pointing at the cars and pretending like she was driving. We even saw one wreck happen right in front of us. And we saw the tiny version of a stock car that sounded like it runs on a lawn mower engine and was driven by a little kid. We didn't make it to the race...but an hour of practicing was fine.
When we got home Ian had a sharp eye out for lightening bugs while Molly and I listened to the crickets sing. It's been a long time since I noticed them. It may have been the first time they were out for the summer. Wish ya'll coulda been here with us!
