It was a lovely day until...

"It's so much more friendly with two"

                                    Piglet

The ladies planned a whole day of it beginning with a lovely tea party put on by my niece, Lynn's church group.  Lynn decorated a table and provided a full-on tea  brunch using a collection of grandmother's, great-grandmother's and auntie's tea cups.  It was fun and we had a wonderful and inspiring speaker.  There was even a competition for best-dressed table and ya'll (that's Texas speak) know how I love a competition.  Perhaps had anyone besides yours truly voted Lynn would have had a shot.  You be the judge - I got pictures and everything:

Nicole, Lynn, Kendyl

Nic, Gwen, Lynn, Beth, Kendyl

The second part of the day was spa relaxation.  What fun!  I get to have pedicure day with my favorite Texas nieces and sister-in-law!  This place had fabulous chairs and truly luxurious foot treatments and things were going along swimmingly right up to the moment my lady slipped a hot stone underneath my warm towels.  I think she was attempting to "nestle" the stone against the arch of my foot but she only succeeded in having me begin to screech and jump, "Yeoooow!  Yikes! HOT! HOT! HOT!  Yeeee!"  I'm telling you this thing was straight out of some Texan volcano.  I had visions of a three inch blister forming instantly on my tender little instep!  

Finally the offending heat source was removed (and I won't even mention the very unsympathetic laughter emanating from the spa chair occupied by Lynn).  After several weeks on the road my middle-aged lip and brow needed a bit of...mmm...shall we say "attention..."  So, I indicate to my lady that I'm going to need a bit of cleaning up and, since there is a language barrier, I make a generalized motion around my face...

I'm ushered into the Room of Torture and laid out on a lovely "treatment" bed.  She immediately goes into high gear slathering my brow and lip with hot wax.  Okay, so far so good.  She does her thing - its not too painful and I attempt to sit up....but, nooooo, she gently lowers me back to the bed and while holding my head down begins to plaster hot wax all over my cheek and jaw!  Well, okay, I might occasionally sport a stray chin whisker or two, she's probably just looking out for me here.  I notice with some trepidation that the wax removal strips are getting pretty wide but hey, she's the expert so I submit relatively quietly.  I once again attempt to rise from the bed-thingy only to be slammed back down.  I'm saying, "No...no thanks...that's great..." when she puts her full weight on my flailing head and says (at least I think she says) -- "No, no more, more!"  YIKES!  There's nothing left and the fire-like burning of my tender skin has me pretty convinced that this is some kind of demented Texan exfolliation process!  I feel a "YEOOOW!!!" burbling up from my throat when she slaps a batch of wax onto my forehead!  Now, c'mon, I'm not one of those unfortunate Mexican werewolf children that you see in National Geographic and I don't even have a single relative of Slavic descent so what the HECK?!!?

I'm finally released from the room and stagger back out to my waiting relatives only to be asked, LOUDLY, by niece Lynn, "We thought you'd gone South of the Border..." and no, she didn't mean in terms of travel... Sheesh.

Well, in case you think I exaggerate the pictures provide ample proof of the aftermath.  I awoke this morning doing a fair impersonation of a pimply faced adolescent!