I know that Mothers' Day was weeks ago and I sort of left everyone up in the air with what happened.
We left at noon on Friday and got to the lake late afternoon. The sun was low on the horizon and cast long shadows. The air was crisp and clear with still a hint of coolness to it--yes, this year we really did have a spring to transition from winter into summer. The change in venue was really refreshing and after bringing in our luggage and putting away the groceries my dear husband made us each a Moscow mule that we stood out on the deck to enjoy in the calm solitude. He built a fire in the grille for the salmon filets that we had bought and I went inside to put together a salad. Afterwards, we had a nice fire in the fireplace, sipped some Bailey's and went to bed early.
The Mothers' Day meal was to be at noon to accommodate those that had to drive some distance. Our daughter and her family were due to arrive on Saturday afternoon, which was fine with us since we could spend time with the grandchildren. But I'm getting ahead of my story because even on the drive up I could not put the idea of doing an enema with my prized enema can out of my head. Saturday morning when I got up, that thought still occupied my thoughts so when I went to take my shower there was enough time for me to get myself clean both inside and out. Anyone who doesn't believe that a good enema is great for you emotionally as well as physiologically probably isn't doing one right. A good enema should not be rushed, care has to be expended on making it the right temperature, it cannot be too soapy or not soapy enough, and should be taken slowly.
In a previous post I indicated that our daughter knows about the can, too. When they arrived at early afternoon it was apparent that she was out of sorts and that point was confirmed when she asked if the can was still at the lake. I confirmed that it was and sometime later when she became scarce for about a half hour and the bathroom door was closed I knew what was happening. Afterward it was amazing at how much her disposition had improved and soon it was time for my husband to make four Moscow mules. Dinner that night was nothing fancy--burgers off the grille with my husband doing the honors again.