Another case of HLS

When I got back from my outing with Robyn and the grandgirls this afternoon, the rig was like a sauna.  It sits out in the parking lot in the direct sun all day, and you know what that means even if all the windows are open.   So, I dug out a pair of shorts and took Emma for a walk.  It didn’t take long for me to figure out I had a case of HLS (Hairy Leg Syndrome).  I’ve been wearing jeans for almost four weeks, so I could actually feel the breeze whistling through my hairy legs.  Shaving them hasn’t been a top priority for me since this adventure began.

By late afternoon, the rig was 90* so Emma and I sat outside in the shade.  I was perched on the rig steps, and she found a cool spot to sprawl.  Since I thought everyone at the repair facility was gone, I got out my battery run shaver and went to work on the HLS.  Of course, a few minutes later a young man blasted out of the building right in front of me.  His eyes bugged a little, but he handled it well by saying, “How’s it going?”  I said, “As well as can be expected.  Are you working overtime?”  He said, “Yeah, we’re very busy!  I’m making a run to the gas station to get some Red Bull and cigarettes, we’re out of both.”  Alrighty then, I bet he’s never seen a little old lady shaving her legs in the parking lot before! 

Robyn had several hours in between appointments this morning, so she, the grandgirls, and I headed for the County Line Orchard about 15 miles away.

Robyn was hoping I’d be able to get some shots of the girls today that they can use to make their Christmas cards.  We chose a weekday thinking the crowds wouldn’t have been as great.

It turned out that there were literally hundreds of elementary school students there today on field trips.  It was hard to get any pictures taken without scads of other kids in the picture.  So, I guess I wasn’t very successful.

The girls were decked out in cute colorful overalls, but had to battle with the bigger kids to try anything.  After a while, we headed for the barn for some of the delicious pumpkin doughnuts.  One of the workers told us we could go upstairs to sit at a table to eat them.  It was a pretty big flight of stairs to get up there, and I had a hold of Avery’s hand.  As we got to the top, Robyn said, “Look!  We have the whole place to ourselves.”  I looked; that was my mistake.  I tripped on the last step and took a header onto the landing dragging Avery with me.  What a look she gave me!  We both said, “Ouch!”  The result?  A big hole in the knee of my pants, and a bruised knee and ego.  Little Avery kept reenacting her fall for me once we finished eating our snack, even with an exaggerated ouch…little stinker!  She knows how to make her grandma feel bad. 

Then it was back to visit the goats once more before we had to leave.

                                     One ‘old goat’ and two young ‘kids’ take a breather.

Thanks for stopping by… talk to you later,  Judy