82 degrees and sunshiney in February in the Northeast?  Is this really possible?  It sure was for us this past weekend!  After so many invitations, we finally accepted our brother Mike’s offer to check out The Pool at Harrah’s in Atlantic City, NJ.

It felt so good to shed some layers and expose parts of my body to air that have not been able to breathe through all the wool and bulky clothes of the past few months.  I’m sure my pasty-white skin was frightening, but I just didn’t care.  The guys ordered me a Mimosa, and suddenly nothing bothered me at all as I went into chill-mode.  I was (still am) exhausted after a really busy week, and this was just what the doctor ordered.

We had a nice day hanging out with Mike at the pool, then we even watched him work his magic in the casino for a little while.  Mike has this amazing casino luck.  We were afraid to even be near him, as I was sure we were going to bring him bad juju.   I promptly fed my $10 casino contribution into the only machine I would even consider playing.



That’s right – Kitty Glitter.

And lost it all in record time.  I’m just not a gambler at all.

Soon we parted ways, and Mike went off to win more money before heading home.  We were ready for our exciting Atlantic City nightlife to begin.

Being the wild-and-crazy party people that we are, my hubby and I got take out sandwiches and brought them back to our room.  At 6:00pm.  We were in for the night. LOL

We gathered our sandwiches, a bottle of wine that we brought, and climbed into the big comfy bed with the tv as our exciting Atlantic City entertainment.  And there we stayed until 11:00am the next day.  I was so tired that I didn’t even care that all we had were paper cups to drink our wine.  Now THAT had to be pure exhaustion for Miss Priss who must have fancy glasses in order to enjoy my drink. 🙂

It was lovely and relaxing, and as much as I dislike leaving my furkids to go anywhere, it was really a treat to have this little escape.

Back home this morning, at 4:00 a.m.,  the kitty gymnastics began as several of our boys jumped all over us.  At 4:30 a.m., one started knocking things off the night table, one item at a time.  At 5:00 a.m., we were treated to the melodious tunes of someone coughing up a furball.  Hubby groaned and I said “We’re not in Atlantic City anymore”.  Reality was harsh.

But we all know that I wouldn’t trade my boys for anything, and it truly is so good to be home. <3



Written by Jennifer Cartledge