Hey, it's a 2AM blogging!

We're having a fantastic time with our company. Particularly, I believe, when you consider the mind-boggling logistics of navigating around the schedules, preferences, and communication patterns of eleven people. We're doin' pretty well.

I really love blogging in the middle of the night. The house is quiet, the children aren't being neglected in order to gain computer time, and the coffee pot is mine, all mine! (That, and I have some strange disorder that will not allow me to just turn the pot off and go. to. bed. No, if there is still coffee in the pot and nobody else is going to drink it, I cannot leave it there. Just can't do it, sorry.) So tonight, I was going to spend a good, lengthy time recounting all the interesting tidbits that have transpired the last few days.

However, the phone just rang - yes, at two in the morning - it was one of the girls, calling to say they can't sleep.

Now, it's not that our nieces are strange young ladies who enjoy phoning relatives in the middle of the night to share their insomnia. It's just that we rented a boat today and the girls thought it might be fun to camp out on the river. Seems the 'skeeters thought that was mighty generous of them, though, and the girls have decided perhaps it's best to run for the shore while they still have enough blood left in them to think straight. Zorak just pulled out to rescue them - he may stay on the boat. Miss Emily and I may slather on the 'skeeter repellent and join him. Then, too, he may just tie the thing to a stump and pray for calm weather 'til after breakfast! I guess we'll know in a little while.

One benefit of having a house full of engineers: all your broken things get fixed! So far, between Ward, Creighton (brother-in-law) and Zorak, our coffee pot no longer leaks, the handle on the cooler will once again retract, and we think we know what's wrong with the Suburban. It doesn't get much better than this. I may just do a round of laundry for everyone tomorrow - on me! (Hey, when you don't go to a bar, you make do.)

Our nieces, who, by our recollections, ought to be a mere four and six years old, are actually quite enjoyable fourteen and sixteen year old girls - and we're so enjoying them. They're a little quiet, and I sometimes wonder just how badly we may rattle them with our noise and antics and unrepentant giggling over admittedly sophomoric bodily functions. Probably won't do any long-term scarring, at least. That's good. But we're enjoying them a great deal.

And I do believe I hear a car pulling up the drive, so I'm off to find out the status of the situation. Will talk to y'all later~

Kiss those babies!
~Dy