Eight Years Ago

Eight Years Ago, Jess and Geo stayed at our place to watch James for us so we could go out for our anniversary. James was fine. We were a mess. And we went back to the house first thing in the morning for breakfast, then took everybody back to the hotel to swim. Know what I remember most about that whole thing?

Jess said she will never again stay at my house because we had no junk food and it was the healthiest house she'd ever seen.

Jess' quote from this visit?

ACK! There is candy everywhere you turn in this place!

Well, that year Easter hadn't fallen the weekend before. I swear that's my defense, and you can't prove otherwise!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Refreshing Visit

But first, a public service announcement for Hillary. Zebra Cakes, made by Little Debbie and her high fructose corn syrup kitchen crew. The official description (straight from Deb, herself):

"A delicious yellow cake with creme filling covered in white icing and trimmed with fudge stripes.
Twin-wrapped 10 to a carton."

Well, as with most advertising, that's a little misleading. In fact, a better description would be something more like this:

"A semi-stale, crack-filled cake wrapped in a concoction of mostly wax and sugar. Five tiny two-packs per carton. Buy two."

My blatant coffee addiction aside, these little delicacies may have contributed to the current condition of my teeth in no small manner.

However, I've had better than Zebra Cake Therapy over the last 24 hours! Yes, better. I've had children *everywhere* - stacked up, spread all over the place, running in and out and up and down. Geo is hilarious. Jess is just as wonderful as always. Her children make me want to scoop them up and pretend I have no idea what she's talking about when she wants to take them home. No. They're mine. Go find some other kids somewhere. I'm keeping these. And now I know for a fact that they'll all fit in the house! (And most of them fit on the tractor, too!)
We didn't get nearly the pictures I thought we would. The bags weren't even unpacked before the children grouped up and dispersed. Did you know you can lose a lot of children on six acres? We couldn't even find them for breakfast. (Although I swear they were all safely in bed last night. Honest.)

I don't know about her children - we'll have to let her tell their side of the story - but mine had a wonderful time.
James was particularly thrilled to find somebody to play Monopoly with him!
This is the only one I have of the two Mommies.

And here's Smidge and Belle, "drivin' to town".


Jess got more pictures than I did, so hopefully she'll share when they get home. And I have a few more to post, but I need to make use of her mad Photoshop skills to remove some redeye first.

We should all have friends in our lives like they are. Friends who will laugh with you, at you, and for you. Friends who'll shoot you straight and love you anyway. Friends who will encourage you and cheer you on. Friends who will not be afraid to tell you if you have eye boogers. Friends who are willing to extend and accept a pre-emptive apology for anything the children may do. The only thing that would make their friendship better is if they didn't live so stinkin' far away. We love you guys!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What was that?

It's only 10-something here, and I'm ready for some intense Zebra Cake Therapy. James has been on Strong Prophet mode this morning. ("But I didn't ask because I KNEW he wouldn't let me", "I KNEW it would work now, because we've talked had a long talk", and my favorite, "If I did that, then I KNOW it wouldn't work." Yep, just call him Jonah.) With that, the plastic egg/land mines on the floor, and the discovery that Smidge "shared" his egg (more specifically, the egg yolk) with Baby Girl this morning... I'm getting a little twitchy. Life, or at least my life, is a fine balance, and I can feel the scale starting to tip.

We've accomplished quite a bit, but it's not been smooth. It's been more like that weird uncle's scalp - bumpy and scaly, with a few hairy bits here and there. And we haven't even done anything that requires a pencil yet! So already, I'm on High Parenting Alert. Some days are just. like. that. I know. I know.

But when James disappeared after history, and I couldn't find him to come unload the dishwasher, I immediately dug out and donned my "Authoritarian Child Herder" hat and went to find him.

"JAMES! Where are you?"

"I'm in my room."

(Oh.) "Well, what are you doing in there?"

"I'm reading."

(Oh. Um. Huh.) "Uh... what are you reading?"

"Something from my 'To Be Read' Shelf. It's really good."

(Now I'm getting suspicious - both of his earlier antics, and my own sanity) "Ah. Very well, then. Carry on."

"OK. *pause* Did you need me to do something for you?"

"No, you're good. Thanks, honey."

(Crap.) Why doesn't he ask that when I CAN think of something I need done? I mean, he'll help any time we ask, but it'd be nice if I could take him up on his offers once in a while. The minute he offers, it's as if he's performed some Jedi mind trick, and I turn daft and can't think of a thing to suggest. I simply turn around, trip over the next load of wash in the hallway, wander past the living room with its Bedouin-style blanket decor in the living room (I think there are camels in there, so I don't mess with the tents), and start unloading the dishwasher myself. But did any of that dawn on me when he asked? Of course not.

This better not be one of those things he confesses to me when he's 30. "You know, Mom, when I used to offer to help out while I was reading? Yeah, I knew you'd never take me up on it if I had a book open. It was just a safe bet and an easy way to score brownie points."

I'm going to go see if I can catch him between pages and get him to hold a pencil.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A delightful day

We have so much to be thankful for...

A beautiful family with a world of love.

A world to explore.

A world of adventure, and friendship.

A world of awe.

Happy Easter!

Snippets

Well, the forward-facing carseat is clean and ready to put into the Suburban in the morning. *sniff* The last of my backward-facing carseat days is gone. (Yes, I know, she turned one in January, but her legs are short and we had some wiggle room.) Weird. I still haven't quite let go of the idea that this is what I do. Which is probably even more weird, considering. *shrug* Anyway, life is like that, sometimes.

Now that the guest room is all cleaned up and ready for company, it looks a little barren. I scrounged in the basement for something bench-like, or even table-like that I could put in there to make it less like a hostel for traveling nuns, but to no avail. We were going to raise the bed a bit, so we made risers for it. As we fitted them on, they seemed a bit wobbly. I asked Zorak, "It won't collapse if they, you know...?" He laughed and said if they're comfortable enough to, you know... then we've done our job, and what's a little collapsing furniture going to matter. Good point. (But we didn't test the theory. The bed has been returned to its non-collapsing position.)

Smidge petitioned us last night to move him back into the boys' room. He said he misses James and John, and the dragon prints, and the trains. We talked it over, passed it by the boys, and tonight we put his bed back in there. Truly, that room is better suited to hosting three bodies than the nursery is for two. Still, I'm not sure EmBaby really needs to be 1) the only girl, 2) the baby of the bunch, AND 3) always have had her own room while the boys always had to share. Some small, wee voice in my head keeps whispering, "Just start calling her Princess now and get it over with." We'll see. She seems to be holding up well so far. :-) And she makes great sound effects!

The boys actually all petitioned to have EmBaby moved into their room, too, but that room won't quite hold four little bodies and all their accessories. Plus, 8yo boys enjoy toys that pose quite a threat to 1yo babies. Too many logistics to try to finagle just now.

Well, everything's ready to go for tomorrow. The kids' clothes are layed out. The menu is set. The house is mostly done. I've got to go forage for my shoes, iron Zorak's shirt, and then I'm done. WooHoo!

OK, Zorak's channeling the Weird Idea Fairy. Time to go brainstorm with My Love and see what weird, wonderful adventure we're up for next!

More Grandkids!

A truck pulled into the drive today. We thought for a minute that it might be the brush hog guy, coming to retrieve the tractor we've been fostering for almost a year, but no. Turned out to be another grandson of Old Mr. Cook, and a friend of his. We suspect they'd heard the place had sold to foreigners and they wanted to check it out, as their initial introduction seemed a little off. (But then, all our initial introductions thus far have been less than encouraging, when it comes to this house and its former owners.)

Zorak popped his head in the house and gave me the Ten-Minute Warning. Then he ducked out to show the guys around while I cracked the whip and got everybody to help me do the panic tidy. It wouldn't have been bad, except we've been working this morning. Wiring, sorting, moving, nailing, sewing, trimming, and washing... I didn't figure "backwoods sweatshop" was a very inspiring theme for visitors.

The guys came in, and they were very nice. I'm sure all the changes were a bit of a shock. The first thing the young guy said when he came in wasn't "check out that cool arch" or "wow, it's so open and inviting". Nope, he swore under his breath and said to himself, "I can't believe you took out the bookshelves". Um, yeah, the bookshelves that harbored billions of mold spores. The bookshelves that had rotted away under years of bong water spills and incense smoke. Yeah, they had to go. Sorry. But still, it's hard to reconcile memories with reality. And even though *we* love all the things we've done to the house, we really don't like being the harbingers of death for fond memories.

After a while, though, hanging out at the island, drinking coffee, sharing stories of the place, seeing the work, and hearing about how all the choices had been made, he was happy to know that his family home is being loved. He dug the coat closet conversion, and could appreciate why we took the laundry out of the kitchen. He understood the importance of having the floor vent in the bathroom *not* wedged between the toilet and tub.

We now have two standing offers to buy the place should we ever decide to sell it. Both would put the property back in the hands of the original family, which gives us warm fuzzies. But that's not an option for a long, long time. We understand and appreciate that it was their home, but it's also our home now. Our Forever Home. And it means more to us with each month, each memory, each new discovery. One day it'll be our children who have all those memories attached to the creek, the barn, the Scary Room. And, like the young guy said, we "aren't from here, and aren't family, and no matter how nice (we) are, (we'll) never be from here". That's okay. The children are, and this is their heritage just as much as it is someone else's.

It does make me miss the Southwest a bit more, though. You don't have to be "from" there to be From There. You can be naturalized into the Southwest, by loving it and living it, by absorbing it and sharing with it. You don't stay a foreigner long in the Southwest. And while we do love it here, and this is where we're putting down roots, our roots don't go back three generations on this soil. So, no, we probably won't ever be From Here. But at least we're here.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

High of 44?

I don't think I'm the target audience for most gardening books. Me-Tae gave me this wonderful book on gardening in Alabama, and it is just filled with great information. I do love it. But there's a disconnect for me in the author's style that I just cannot get over. It happens when the author makes comments such as,

"Sometimes you find a really great plant and just have to buy it, although you don't know where you will put it. It happens to all of us."

Oddly enough, I've never had that happen. I don't think I've ever walked through a store and said, "AH! Something else to leave laying around because it has no home! I MUST buy this! And even better, it's something I'll have to keep alive in the interim!" Just doesn't happen. Truthfully, I hope it never happens. Zorak may call a time out for mental health reasons if it does.

There is also one phrase I keep running across which, I suspect, is designed to weed out the transplants from the natives. In discussing when all danger of frost is past, she says, "The weekend of the Auburn - Alabama game is a sure bet."

Do you have ANY idea when the Auburn - Alabama game IS? I don't. Or, I didn't. So I googled it. That took a while. Best I can figure, it's over already. And yet, last night's low was 25, and tonight's temps are going even lower. I know, I know, it's just a rule of thumb. But my thumb isn't green, my home isn't decrated in orange or crimson, and to be honest, I don't even know which is which. So, obviously, I need something a bit less intuitive. Right now, I just know it's cold, and the little greenhouse we planted during The Week of the Hormones isn't faring well *at all*, and what was I thinking??? We'll give the County Extension Office a call on Monday. Hopefully, they use a slightly different means of averaging. We've got amateur beds waiting for amateur gardeners! And I know what we'll do with all those plants, too!

In other news, we'll be trying a different church this Sunday. I don't want to leave our church, but it's getting more and more difficult to attend as a family. If we go on Sundays and Wednesdays, it takes about $200 in gas each month, and it's just not working for Zorak to come with us as often as we'd all prefer. I am thankful that he will come at all, and it doesn't help to make it more difficult for him to agree to go. The killer point was when I mentioned "sunrise service" to Zorak. He instantly calculated drive-time, child-wrangling time, and food, and realized we'd have to leave here around three AM to make it. In that split second, I could see the "Not just no, but..." phrase forming in his head. So I called Claudia (they're back - did I post that? They are! Yay!) to see if she and her herd wanted to come with me and my herd to the PCA church in Hartselle. It's only 11 miles from the house, instead of 50. I hope it's where we need to be, but boy, oh boy, do I hate uprooting everyone *again*.

Zorak is putting baseboard down in the bathroom this morning!! We were going to go outside to burn more leaves and spray the poison ivy, but, as I've mentioned, IT'S COLD. So we'll be working inside. I'm off to tidy and see if I can kick a path in the guest room for our guests. (Joking! It's more of a nudge than an all-out kick.)

Kiss those babies, and stay warm!
~Dy

I don't think that's what it means.

When the Bible says we should encourage one another, I don't think that means encouraging them to do certain things...

like dropping stuff in your milk,

or putting tabasco on your cereal,

or eating something you found and cannot identify.

Funny, but you'd think that would be a somewhat instinctive understanding.

Evidently not.

Ah, well, this is why they don't live on their own, right? ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sweet Success

Today, John finished reading Fun With Dick and Jane. Smidge was so proud of him that we all got hugs. Then we got ice cream. (I love Cerrone Cones - wheat free ice cream cones! As you can tell from John's face, he's not accustomed to eating from an ice cream cone. Obviously, he views this as some type of edible makeup applicator.)

The ice cream wasn't a reward for finishing a book; the excitement of finishing a book, of knowing a story, of meeting the characters, is reward enough for that. The ice cream was a big pat on the back for the hard work John has put into his reading skills so far this term. By the last chapter of Dick and Jane, he'd added character voices, made up jokes and puns on the reading as he went along, and generally had a delightful time of it. Since the second chapter of the book, he's been reading it to Smidge, and that's become their special time each day.

What cracks me up is that he thought that was his reading "lesson" each day, yet all the while he's been reading aloud to me, Among the Forest People, by Clara Dillingham Pierson. Yeah, check it out. Not quite Dick, or Jane. He has worked his furry little forest tail off on these. He works hard to put the story out there, to absorb it into his mind, and to put into practice all he's learning along the way. He enjoys them, but he knows they're Work. And while he doesn't read these with the silly, completely fluent inflection he's able to apply to the basic readers, he is gaining invaluable skills along the way. He's improving his decoding and comprehension skills in a way that allows him to read the brain candy for fun, and to know it's fun. To read the more challenging material, and know that it, too, is good.

It's like that with everything we try. The things worth achieving and perfecting, are worth the effort it takes to attain them. Sometimes it's pure fun.


Sometimes you have to stretch yourself to reach your goal.


This Spring has been John's season to soar, to stretch his wings and see what he can do on his own. He's doing so beautifully (if a bit stickily), and I couldn't be more proud of him. This is why we do what we do.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Funny, What's Important

I'd intended today, after...

working in the garden, doing my math and Latin, setting up the school room (yes, finally - but no pictures yet, it looks hideously cramped at the moment), running numbers and investment options for the finances, wading through miles of laundry, listening to stories, reading stories, taking a walk around the property to see it through Little Eyes, attending baseball practice, preparing supper, reading more stories, tending to the character training (for me and them, right?), writing letters, and finalizing lesson plans for the rest of the week,

to blog about the various knocks and dings being dished out this week to stay-at-home moms and homeschoolers.

But you know,

I was too busy

enjoying my life

to really be bothered.

I suppose that's enough, in itself.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

*Garden note: I actually know what those are all pictures of!! WOOHOO!
The first is an iris. I'm so excited to have an iris!
The second is a tulip. It's pretty beat up from the storm, but it is one of THREE now. Each one a different color, and each one on a different side of the tree. :-D
The third... oh, this is my favorite. See the heart? That's the leaf of the redbud. They grow wild out here! The flowers are a gorgeous purple, growing all down the branches, and then the tree erupts in hearts! Isn't that beautiful?
And that final one is the elusive North American Smidge. While not difficult to find, Smidges are often quite difficult to photograph. They move quickly and make very little noise, so you have to shoot fast.

Great Paper Folding Site

OK, one more post and then I'm going. I've been trying to jump start my creative battery, but it looks like it isn't going to happen this morning.

Somebody posted this link on one of the boards, and it's really quite neat. Paper folding projects of the Wonders of the Ancient World! You can have your own Colossus of Rhodes. And I know you've been wondering just what centerpiece to put on the dining table. Now you have it.

This blurb from the main page tells a little about the project's inception:

The Small Wonders Project was originally planned to provide free paper models for rehabilitation therapy purposes to hospitals and rehabilitation centers. This idea came up after Delta 7 Studios chief designer saw how building models helped his Father in Law recover important motor, reasoning and reading skills in the wake of a major stroke. Since the inception of the project many others including educators have asked that we make these models available to everyone.

Neat stuff, no?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

New Card, No Photos

Zorak grabbed a new XD card for the camera so we could take pictures of the kids playing ball over the weekend. He got a big card, too (so now I can go years between uploads!) and we took a bazillion pictures. Some movies. Lots of fun shots, too.

We put the card in the uploader, presumably to upload. Nothing. We got crickets. With a lot of wiggling and finagling, we did get a message that we don't have a high-speed USB port, and it'll be slow. OK, how slow? (I honestly doubt we could tell the difference. We aren't big 'puter fiends.) Well, two days seems a bit on the ridiculous side, but still nothing happened.

Then we found it.

"Would you like to format this card?"

Honestly? No. No, we wouldn't. We'd like to get to the pictures that are currently ON it! ACK.

And so, no pictures. I know we'll most likely have to format the darned thing and will lose the pictures. And that makes me cry. We didn't know. We put the card in the camera, and the camera recognized it. The camera and the card worked together beautifully. Was it all a hoax?

ARGH.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Garden Update

Hey, hey, what do ya know, the guys were busy while I was gone yesterday! They got the border to the melon patch levelled. Zorak laid the first row for a retaining wall down there. He and the boys moved about a ton of sand and a few wheelbarrows of manure into the boxes in the upper meadow, and down to the barn. They played a lot of catch, and ate a lot of otter pops. In all, it was a very productive day for them.

Those kids slept HARD last night.

It's good to be productive. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Dentist Update

Well, it went okay. They are pretty upfront, which is nice. There's still a lot of work to be done, which I knew, and yet the other dentist had said, "You're all caught up!" Huh.

This dentist seems to think that root scaling would be a better route to go than the flaying-grafting process the other one wanted to do. I don't know if the damage isn't as bad as the first guy thought, or if the things I've been doing to help repair some of the tissue damage have actually had an impact. He also recommends extracting three teeth. I started to freak when he said that, BUT, they're the same three teeth that two different orthodontists have told me would need to come out in order to do braces.

So, now we've got to get going on it. I am glad to be healthy, but please pardon me if I don't leap about and do the happy dance. I'll dance when it's done.

Dy

Almost Productive

"Now that fear of yours makes more sense."
-Zorak, to me, as I lay sprawled out on the ground today in the melon patch.

I'm just not cut out for things that require coordination. Simple tasks, such as baking, installing brake pads, or chasing herds of small children, I can do. The more complex tasks, like, say, pulling weeds while keeping my balance, will do. me. in. I had a good one, too. I pulled and yanked and hauled. I braced my feet and bent my legs. Perhaps that was my undoing, because no sooner had I thought "It's coming up! It's coming up!" than I began to lean and twist and slide... in slow-motion, too. Up, up, aaaannnnnd, OVER. Face first into the freshly turned dirt in the middle of the patch.

And my brain, ever ready to defend me and prove that I am fit to survive, warned me that I was about to impale myself on a sapling stump on the way down. Wasn't that nice? Of course, did it also send the message to LET GO of the rooted devil plant that was taking me down? No. No, it did not. Evidently, my ever ready brain is only wired for one signal at a time. Thank God we don't have tigers here.

And when I landed on my side, with a most satisfying thud, I looked up, laughing, at Zorak, who looked either bewildered or concerned. And that was when he, oh so eloquently, referenced my big hairy fear of malevolent vines creeping in to kill us while we sleep. I would like to get offended and huffy over it, but it was funny, that was a stoopid thing to do (on my part, not his), and really, I'm just glad he understands me a little better now. I'm also glad we're a family that can laugh at ourselves (and, obviously, each other). That we can have fun doing what we do.

And we worked today. We worked hard. We dug half a dozen tree stumps out of the melon patch, and easily ten old railroad ties. Some of the trees had grown up through the wood. That was wild. The melon patch (13'8" x 22') is now ready for a border and compost.

If I've learned nothing else in this adventure, it's that landscaping should be kept simple. Sure, those trellised wisteria vines looked great behind three tiers of monkey grass and blackberry bushes. And yes, the whatzits definitely set off the dogwoods -- back when they weren't 30 feet tall. If the next people who own your home don't happen to have the Better Homes and Gardens Gene, well, a decade can make for some pretty nasty wrangling for the ones who follow after that. So we're learning to keep it simple and easy to maintain.

Well, that, and "let go" when you're going down.

Never stop learning!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Holiday fun

I wanted so very much to write a fun April Fool's Day post. A few things stopped me, though. First, I truly detest April Fool's Day. Not a big trickster at all. And second, lacking inspiration, I couldn't think of anything good. I'd thought about saying we were going to send the boys to Orme Academy, a boarding school in Arizona, but was afraid that might start rumors in the family that it would take the rest of the year to quell. Then I thought perhaps I'd come clean that Zorak is moving to Mexico to join the Partido del Trabajo, but I couldn't bring myself to even joke about that. *shudder*

And when I'm not inspired, all I can think to do is plagarize. Every time I began to write, I'd think of last year, and start giggling.

Then I thought I'd post a bit about the history of April Fool's Day. Plenty of mystery and conjecture. Looks like the change of the calendar was as popular when it first came out as Daylight Savings Time is today. But still, nothing concrete. The best I could come up with was a little anecdote about the origin of the "Kick Me" sign on a person's back. (Authorities seem to blame that one on Scotland. They're a tough crowd, those Scots.)

Now the children are up, the ground is soft, and Spring is coming! So, however you celebrate April Fools' Day, have a very happy day. And if you do have big news to share, please wait until tomorrow, for you may not be believed today. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Ufda!

Man, this whole having-to-be-places-regularly thing is a challenge!

John's team had two practice games back-to-back last night. Seemed a bit on the trial by fire side to me, to have the little guys out there so long, so late. But they're not... you know... babies... *sniff**sniff*

His team got wallopped pretty thoroughly the first game. The other team knew what the ball was for, and how to stop it, and all those pesky details of the game. *grin* Fortunately, we've got a great bunch of kids, a great team of coaches, and parents who can keep it positive. The overall enthusiasm stayed high for the second game, and they all did better. Still got trounced, but definitely better.

I'm still the only one who laughs herself into total debilitation, though, and am pretty certain there will be an intervention for my drinking problem before the season ends. HOW they can not laugh is beyond me. One boy hunkered down in the dirt and built dust castles. (It was windy; he had to keep starting over.) One boy spun around in circles until he tipped over. Another boy (*ahem*, mine) spent a good portion of the game doing some sort of leaping, kicking, toe fluttering ballet maneuver. One little sweetheart of a guy hit the ball, scrambled to first and kept on running - straight. We have no clue where he was going. This is funny stuff, folks. You just can't get this kind of entertainment from Hollywood. And someday all these children will be proficient, aware, and together enough that they won't have the adorable "puppies tumbling pell-mell" thing going, anymore. I have no desire to wish that away. It'll go quickly enough.

You'd think with all that activity, we wouldn't have been up until eleven with the boys (and until two with Baby Girl - what is UP with that level of stamina?) but we were. They were tired, but way too wired to stop vibrating and chattering.

And this morning? Up 'n at 'em with one more game. Not bad. None of us expected to see an improvement this morning from yesterday's games, but the kids did a great job. They can hustle. They can hit. They can mostly run. (John, not so much on the running. He's more of an ambler. Would've made a great cowboy.) They shouted and encouraged each other. There were high-fives and thumbs-up gestures all over the field. They lost by only one point. It was a sweet, sweet morning.

Now we're home, but only for a little bit. We've worked the compost, cleaned the kitchen, and now Zorak's fixing lunch. Easter Egg hunt is at two o'clock, so we've got to eat and get going. (I'm having a cup of coffee. This crazy schedule has my caffeine maintenance schedule all out of whack.) J and I were talking about scheduling multiple children for activities, and I kinda like her game plan. She laughed and said, "One child per year. Not one activity per child per year, but one kid gets to do one thing this year. Next year, the next child gets to do something, and so on." Doesn't sound like much fun for the kids, but I'll bet I go grey before she does! Smart lady. *whew*

OK, off to be helpful.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

ACK - it's dead!

Our memory card for the camera is dead. Well, not quite dead, but needs to be shot. Of all the photos I took today, only three uploaded. And of the three that uploaded, only one is even visible. And of that one that's visible, well...

...that's just not good.

Believe it or not, there's a funny story that goes with that photo. But it doesn't make much sense now.

Life is like that sometimes.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Not At Bad As It Sounded

No, none of it is as bad as it sounded. I was tired, and rather than going to bed like a normal person might, I stayed up blogging and chatting wtih J and Dee. Actually, that was cathartic. I wish J and I still lived in the same town - she's a wonderful friend, and I miss her. I miss her wonderful children, her funny husband (Ok, he's Zorak-funny, so it's probably not always funny to *her*, but he makes me laugh), and I miss her sweet, gentle nature. And her snarky side. But mostly just - all of them.

We'll head in to town today to make a Costco run. Payday is the day *after* Pioneer Club, so once a month I have to make two runs into town, and that's... well, *whine*whine*whine*. (ahem) Not bad. Really. The boys are dying to take flowers to Me-Tae, and if I can get moving quickly enough, perhaps we can stop by the art museum or at least Big Spring park and enjoy a nice day out.

John has practice today (that's somewhat like saying, "we're going to be breathing today", or "we thought we'd eat today" - I'm really thankful the ball field is just a few miles down the road!) and it's *team pictures* day. He gets to wear his full uniform. Oh. My. Word. The ANTICIPATION! I just hope we can find the socks. Smidge had them on as gloves the other day, and we had a heck of a time trying to convince him they're off limits.

Need to come up with some crockpot recipes this week. Want to share your favorites?

Aunt B's friends' son and his family are moving to the area, and we hope to be able to feed them this weekend sometime. (That has nothing to do with crockpot recipes. We have our "feed company" menus ,and they're all about the process and the fun of preparing food for enjoyment. If you leave our house hungry, it's not our doing, know what I mean? The crockpot thing is for our practice nights that happen to fall on errand days.) Anyway, they're doing the whole hectic "find a house and move" process. We'd like to help make the transition more enjoyable if we can. And we look forward to meeting them. Good people.

OK, I've got some fun things to post, but the Small Ones seem to need a little direction, and they've come running to the tapping of the keyboard like cats to a can opener. So, I'm going to go enjoy my little kitten-y Small Ones and have a productive, wonderful day. Y'all do the same!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Just...Stuff

(You know, I have to work very hard not to abuse that category!) It's been one heckuva week around here, folks. Not all bad, but please allow me to whine a bit, first.

All that dental work we've had done over the last year? Not a bit of it has worked. Not. One. Bit. I've got an appointment Monday with a new Dentist For Big People. I'm in so much pain right now from bad work the first dentist did. Gah. I hate this. I hate going in blind. Of course they're going to say they can help you. They want your business. But can they help? I've asked around, stalking people who have lovely teeth, but they either don't have a dentist locally, or they don't have anything yay-or-nay to say about their dentist. "Eh, he's okay. He's on my insurance." *sigh*

Well, being the eternal optimist *snort* (Yeah, I know, but it sounded good, didn't it?) I'd think some dentist, somewhere, is capable of filling a cavity and not leaving the edges sharp enough to break those teflon flossers. (Had those "fixed" by him, twice. And three of 'em are still breakin' floss.) Or perhaps of putting on a temporary crown that doesn't protrude so far out of whack that it forces the patient's jaw out of line. (My favorite memory of this guy will always be when I mentioned that particular one, and was told, "Oh, well, that's only for six months." Wha--? And it hurts now. Well, it hurt then. NOW, it's more than mere inconvenience.)

I had a delightful dentist once. He did an amazing job. He got it right the first time, every time. He was gentle, thorough, honest. Well, mostly honest. Turned out he had a pretty rabid cocaine addiction. But even with that little glitch, I find myself wishing I could make a quick run up to PA to get the rest of my work done. Yes, I know that's wrong on so many levels. But it just serves to illustrate how desperate I am.

Then, this morning Balto had a Grand mal seizure. Whooo boy. Of course, I didn't look at him vibrating on the porch, and think, "Oh, looks like a seizure episode." I looked at him and thought, "Holy cow, can fresh rabbit do that to you?" Actually, my first concern was that he'd been poisoned. The boys helped me get everybody shod and loaded in less than ten minutes (WOOHOO) and off we went to the Wonderful Vet, who did a thorough check and said he's in perfect health and shows no signs of toxicity. He said it looks like epilepsy. Huh. So, I looked into whether we need to worry about Baltoid's mental stability (such as it is) and general personality changes (could he, by chance, be a little more calm after a couple of these things?) From there, it's just a matter of learning to live with epilepsy.

Wonderful Vet did touch base about letting him go down to the creek, but when we described it - nothing like Melissa's creek, which is a real creek - we just call ours a creek, but the other creeks would shun it and deny it membership in the AW-CRAP (Associated Waterways - Creeks, Rivers, Aquaducts, Ponds), he gave the a-ok. Poor BaltoDog. He's been a big clingy since then, and I don't blame him. Seizures are freaky enough for a fully functioning human who can listen to an explanation and process the whole thing. What's that like for a dog? Ugh. I can only imagine, "Oh, man. It was awful. One minute I'm chasing robins off the porch and chewing on my feet, and the next minute, I'm belching foam and peeing all over myself. Then they made me get in the CAR! What's that all about? I don't know what happened, but... I don't ever want to be alone again, man." Plenty of gentle lovin's and snuggles seemed to make him feel better. If he plans to stay inside more often, though, he is SO getting a bath tomorrow. He's such a good dog, and I feel bad for him. We'll see if we can identify any triggers he may have, and help him develop a safe spot for when he's feeling punky. He's our Balto-Dog, and we love him.

Oh, the finger? Almost healed! I still can't put any real stress on it, or it makes a wretched tearing sound - similar to velcro being pulled apart - and somehow, that doesn't seem like it should be happening. But it's significantly better. I thought it was lookin' pretty good, until I showed it to Zorak and he said, "Aww, a FrankenFinger!" Um... yeah, thanks, Love.

AND, we made it to Pioneer Club. We made it home. We got everybody snuggled and loved on. And in the end, I'm sitting here typing with my FrankenFingers (it's okay, I never planned to be a hand model, really), with my goofy dog draped across my foot. My wonderful husband is passed out cold with Smidge, and there's probably no way I will be able to wiggle in there with them, but it's such a snuggly, inviting scene, I may try anyway. The big boys are big. They did well this week. They've really learned how to work together (when they must) and how to be caring for those who need it. Really, it has been quite a week. But not as bad as it sounds. I'm thankful.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy