It has taken about four and a half years for our younger daughter to make it up to the mountain property. She was always busy with work or her social life whenever we went up, so she just never made it there. Today daddy took both daughters up to the hill, while I stayed home. Naturally, he handed them each a couple boards of lumber to take up when they parked at the staging area, for them to carry up as they hiked. I got a picture from halfway up, of them looking totally fatigued, but still game to go see the cabin. There were a few hitches with the tools and hardware (forgot the drill, bought the wrong size of clips for the metal roof), but they still managed to get a fair bit of work done. At one point our younger daughter texted me about how the climb wore her out, and she was having trouble mustering the energy to do much work at the campsite. I wrote back, "Now you know how I felt last summer. And picture that feeling with lupus and cancer mixed in." She said she couldn't imagine how I kept going every week. I told her never to forget she comes from badass stock.
I didn't feel like that much of a boss today, though. I am still so tired and sore from yesterday's day out that every cell in my body hurts. I seriously considered taking my mid-grade painkillers, but I try so hard not to do that unless I'm in crisis, that I took a two hour long nap instead. I had made it to Rotary and to the pet store to buy crickets to feed the lizards, and by the time I got home, I was moving at 1/4 impulse speed. I never really picked up steam again after that. I was groggy from the nap and tired from, well, everything. I was lucky that older daughter is used to a very physical job, and the hike up the mountain didn't deplete her, so she was able to take charge of dinner. I managed to chop a large handful of carrots, and then I was kind of done.
Over dinner, we sort of revived our tradition of re-watching movies in the Harry Potter series. This was Harry Potter adjacent anyway. She hadn't seen Fantastic Beasts: Crimes of Grindelwald, so we kicked back and went through that one. Together we raved over costumes (because that's who we are), and picked apart plot deviations that didn't seem to match the original books. She re-reads them every few years, so I defer to her encyclopedic knowledge, but I do want to find the section we feel is the key plot hole, and piece together in my mind what's wrong with it.
While everyone else was up in the hills, I got to be grandma spoiling Little Dog with Little Brain. She was so nervous when they first walked up, afraid to cross the porch and walk through the door. It took me putting a single dog treat in her mouth for her to remember that she really, really likes me. She has slept on a micro-plush blanket on my bed every night since (where she is now, with her head resting on my toes), and she follows me around, knowing that every so often, treats just fall from my hands into her face hole. I caught her lying on the rug, belly up, directly in front of the fan this morning. I think she misses living in Colorado, now that she's in a hot apartment in LA. She was enjoying the heck out of the cool air.
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