The important thing to note is that this was the weekend in which the younger Girl Scouts did backyard camping, and the next morning was the incident with the yellow jackets. And by "the incident with the yellow jackets" I'm referring to Annabeth apparently sort of stepping on some in the yard which stung her on the ankle (which she said initially just felt like yet another blister from dance -- what does it say about life when your kid thinks stinging pain in the ankle is a normal part of existence?), then other girls started getting stung, they ran into the house, the yellow jackets followed, the older brother of the house swatted and killed about 10 with a flip flop. I arrived a bit later to find kids coated with baking soda and holding bags of ice cubes to various body parts. The mom in charge was soooo apologetic that the insects were in her yard. I pointed out that they all got to have an impromptu first aid lesson. And when she called later that afternoon to check on Annabeth I commented that 5 years from now the girls will STILL be talking about this, and those who missed it would be sort of envious they missed out because it was going to be part of the legend of their friendships.
Really, can't you picture in 20 years some of them using whatever future Facebook-equivalent to say, "It reminded me of that time with the yellow jackets". Legendary, I tell you.
The stings on Annabeth's arms turned out to be very minor, but her ankle has swollen into a cankle. She's soaked it in epsom salts. I've since learned that tobacco is great first aid for the stings. Who knew?
(There were other stressful incidents during this backyard campout. Another offshoot was a girl being diagnosed with diabetes. That girl didn't get stung, so at least she has THAT to be thankful for. And other stuff happened with other kids. I think the hosting mom may really hesitate to host something like this ever again.)
Thalia also had a Girl Scout overnighter. But they stayed indoors, and it was just a typical sleepover. Hohum.
Saturday we watched O Brother, Where Art Thou to finish up our study of The Odyssey. I think I enjoyed it more having just read the book. I wouldn't have caught some of the parallels had it not been so fresh in my mind. The hair pomade, the beards they were wearing at the end, even the blind man on the rail car (okay, really I couldn't think who the heck that was -- I really drifted during that particular trip to Hades, apparently, and had to go back and figure it out later).
This was also the weekend Rick was out of town -- he went to Cincinnati to watch pro tennis. So Sunday afternoon we girls watched a chic flick -- Letters to Juliet. Fun, sweet, extremely similar to Leap Year (east coast girl goes to Europe, meets guy from British Isles she initially dislikes, falls in love, rejoins her boyfriend/fiance, yada, yada). Final scene was very weak, which was a shame.
So, movies and yellow jackets. And tennis. A weekend to remember.