A Schlepping Party

So the wife asks if I want to go to Buffalo for the weekend to attend a party.

What kind of party? I asked.

A Schlepping Party, she says.

What's Schlepping? I asked.

Well, it's part of the big Graduation Party they're having for my brother Matt, who's graduating high school.

Well, says I, I'll miss Gaming Sunday™, but since it's a one-time thing, I'll go.

Well, we all know what schlepping is, now don't we?

"Schlepping" means moving stuff.

Lot's of stuff, in this case.

Two other guys and I helped her dad move 100 wooden folding chairs and 14 giant tables from a church to some trucks to the park to some trucks and back to the church. All in one day.

Oh, and I moved four giant wooden picnic tables across the park, and hefted about four more from the shelter to under a tent and back again.

Needless to say, I was tired.

But that's okay, the party was a lot of fun -- it only rained twice, for only about 1-2 hours each time -- and the next day I got to rest while driving six hours home.

Ugh. My body is bent and broken.

Of course the best part, the part that rounded off the whole trip, that made leaving on Friday and coming home on Sunday the best thing ever, was coming home to find one of my cats locked in the coat closet.

Where he was for two days.

Where he scratched to get out.

Where he peed all over some gloves and stuff on the floor.

Where he seems to have lost a bit of weight.

*SIGH*

Why is it that cats run into closets when you open them, without letting you know?

Oh, well.

It was a pretty good, if tiring weekend.

Congraduations, Matt!