Documents and Care

I'm here. Actually, I've been in the basement, sorting papers, looking for birth certificates. But nobody was willing to drop food and coffee down the stairs, so I had to come back up. Found one. Have two official copies ordered. No clue where the second one may be.

I plan to look into the mail order bride thing and see if there isn't someone who would be willing to come just as a personal assistant and doesn't really require marriage. That might be handy.

I called my doc to see if I could get in to see her this week, rather than waiting until the 20th. My thought was that I'd like to be proactive about the stone the u/s found in my kidney. The conversation was a bit odd. She started off by telling me that everything looked absolutely perfect. No problems at all.

*blink* What about the kidney stone?

What stone? What tests did you have done?

We sorted that out. She called the lab, which hadn't faxed the results of the bone density or the u/s back yet. Then she called me back.
**************************
Nurse: There is no stone. You're perfectly healthy. You don't need to come in.

Me: Well, what's that large mass in my kidney?

Nurse: That's just a calcium deposit. It's nothing you need to worry about.

Me: What's the difference between a stone and a calcium deposit?

Nurse: Well, it's not a stone. Really, this is nothing to worry about, at all.

Me: So a calcium deposit of that size won't impair renal function?

Nurse: Not yet.

Me: *I am screaming in my head, but not on the phone.* Well, won't it have to come out, at some point?

Nurse: I don't know why you're upsetting yourself over this. It's nothing. I've spoken with the doctor about this, and it is absolutely nothing. You just have that. And a simple cyst.

Me: *thinking I do not want to look up "kidney" and "cyst" on Google...* A what? A cyst? On my kidney?

Nurse: Yes. It's nothing. You don't need to come in earlier than your appointment. *tsk* Honestly *deep exhalation* Where ARE you getting your information from?

Me: So what does The Doctor say might be causing my pain, since absolutely everything else looks completely healthy and clear?

Nurse: Oh, we don't know what that could be.

Me: You don't think it could be that, um, calcium deposit?

Nurse: No. Not at all.

Me: You know, that's fantastic news. But, uh, I think I'd like to talk to Dr. D about all this, anyway. You know, just to make sure we're all on the same page.
*************************

So, I go in Thursday, but the nurse isn't happy about it. And I'm trying to figure out the best way to get a copy of the u/s to take to someone else. Because if I have a long-lost twin living in my kidney, I'd like to know.

And the best I can figure, a 1cm "calcium deposit" sounds an awful lot like something more than nothing. I know I'm not a doctor, or even a radiologist. But I also know that anything that large that shows up that clearly from *inside* an organ that ought not have solid things lodged in it probably isn't "nothing".

I'm not worked up, but I am also not feeling overly confident in my current doctor, who is, to be perfectly honest, probably busy being torqued that my bone density test didn't come back with full-blown osteoporosis. Because that means her argument that I am - quite obviously - an osseous sponge (because I nurse my babies longer than six months - her words) just might not be exactly it.

And that's... about it, this week. Documents and Care. I need more time playing with the kids. They're a lot more interesting and a whole lot more fun.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Mornin'

Ah, this was, perhaps, an overly productive weekend. It hurts. I'm glad it's Monday, and we can get back to shredding papers and digging around for important documents. Oh, wait, I did that this weekend, too. Well, that's okay. Gotta get it done. (In the meantime, I did post finished photos of the Weekend Warrior project from this weekend. They're at the bottom of the page.)

We had lunch with the pastor and his family after church on Sunday. It was very nice, and the kids had a fantastic time. Zorak and I felt horribly awkward, but that's pretty normal. It's us, not them. We aren't quiet, demure, well-appointed homes kind of folks. Put us in a quiet, demure, well-appointed home, and we both feel like we just tried to crash a party at the wrong home. Like we're the only ones wearing togas.

In trying to locate the boys' birth certificates, I have now filled four 13-gal trash cans with shredded paper to be composted. Thrown away just as much trash. Absolutely stuffed the filing cabinet with things-to-keep-but-not-what-we-needed. And there is nary a birth certificate in sight. WHERE did we hide them? I'd already ordered a new one for John, but now it's looking like I'll need to order one for Smidge, as well, and I don't think they're going to make it in time. Gah. I'm asking Santa for a Personal Secretary for Christmas.

Meanwhile, it's supposed to be 72 degrees today! We're going to get out and roam about a bit. That's always good for the spirit.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Weekend Warrior - Project Blogging - Updated!

Amy inspired me. OK, she shamed me. She's putting in toe kicks this weekend, and her kitchen hasn't been together long enough to get the stove top dirty. Mine's been in so long I've had to take a putty knife to it (twice) and I still haven't put the toe kicks on. Gah.

So. Fine. I have a semi-legitimate reason for the lack of finishing touches in the kitchen, and they are not all based on our Functional Trumps Finished approach to home decor. However, they aren't going in this weekend, either. So, I had to come up with something else...

Anybody remember the Futon Chair project? Yes, over a year ago, I commented that we'd need another cushion... obviously, that wasn't a driving Need, like unfrozen pipes, or armadillo food a salsa garden in the upper meadow. Whatever. But it was U-G-L-Y. And the more the kids crawled around on it, the worse it got. Oy.

We'd taken to storing papers and notebooks on it, just to try and disguise it a bit. (As you can tell, that didn't work.)

So that was my project for this weekend.

I started by dragging up old foam mattresses that had come with the boys' bunk beds. They've been living in the basement, awaiting some kind of new life or Viking Burial, whichever came first. (The boys were hoping for the fire, to be honest.) Sized it up, measured it... ok, no, I didn't measure it. You knew that. Eyeballed it.

Then I cut the mattresses to size, removed the outer fabric (not that I didn't dig the space theme, but it would have clashed with the Prometheus theme we already have going in the living room), and used spray adhesive to stick the two mattresses together. (Had to do that part, because they are thin, cheap foam mattresses. One would not be comfortable. That would be why they live in the basement.)

I covered the foam in muslin. This makes a nice, firm, smooth cushion. Keeps everything together. And when you take the cover off, you don't have exposed foam for the children to peck at and decimate during the dry cycle. Total sanity saver.

Dry fit one. last. time. (Probably not a necessary step if you measure, to be honest.)

And... then make everybody wait for tomorrow to see the Finished Project, because the light was too bad in that room to get a decent photo by that point. Sorry.

But what about you? The weekend isn't over! Pop on over to Amy's place and join in the Weekend Warrior fun!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And here is the mostly-finished project:

It still needs velcro closures along the top back, but I ran out of good light and so, that's where I had to stop. The kids don't seem to mind at all, though...

Scratch That.

I wrote this on the 15th. I've pulled up my big girl panties and am not feeling quite so overwhelmed. But at the time, I felt about like this little guy --->

who couldn't find a clean thumb. I'm tellin' ya, it's the little things.

...Then I sat down to go through the mail and pay the bills. Oh, look, tax papers! Gotta round those up for Granny, who does our taxes. (Because she is brilliant and really good at it. Not to mention, she has an unflinching supply of patience, which I want one day to reward by actually getting all our stuff to her before the actual deadline to file passes). And then, because I've been working overtime to make sure I have everything lined up (Year of Joy and all that - being on time and full of integrity!), I got all braggardly about how I even have a printout from the kids' dentist of all the money we gave him in 2008.

And while I was digging it out of my wallet, out fell an appointment card for the oral surgeon. With JAN 5 written on it.

I'm guessing that didn't mean January 5, 2010.

And all of it came crashing down on me at once. The unending dental appointments. The ongoing scheduling conflicts. The crud that will not die. The mystery pain that probably isn't cancer unless it's accompanied by back pain and fatigue. (Of course, it is.) The vehicle that craps out at the worst possible moment, every time. Missing Gram's service. Missing Gram. The sheer volume of food we go through. The fact that I'm *always* at the dentist and yet, I'm nowhere near done. Nor will I be done before, say, I die.

Whew! That was a big ol' vat o' whine, wasn't it?

It's nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Many people are facing much more, and probably with a great deal more grace than I can muster on the best of days. Let alone during one of those moments. But there you have it, I am an unorganized, overwhelmed mess sometimes. And a stray appointment card is, evidently, my Achilles' heel.

And so, nothing much has changed, really. But I did put my head on straight, and am less whiny. I did see the doctors today about the mystery pain. It looks like the cause is a big ol' honkin' kidney stone. A kidney stone that looks like a dental crown. Although if I took a Rohrschact test right now, I'd bet most of the things would look like some kind of dental appliances to me. *shrug* But, a kidney stone is *great* news. We can handle that, easy as pie (pie that someone else has made, even). Yay.

And Zorak still thinks I'm sexy. Or, as he put it, "As long as you don't look at the ultrasound, you're pretty hot." I will, um, just choose to take that as a romantic gesture and move on from there.

So. Right now, the kids are outside enjoying this absolutely spectacular day. I am inside, taking a quick break from cleaning my spectacular home. Zorak is in town, running errands and being, in general, a spectacular husband. The Suburban is still cranky. I still miss Gram. There is still no end in sight on the medical and dental stuff. But that's not what needed changing. We needed to get a better grip on it all, and now we have.

(But I did forget to pick up the other tax printouts this morning, Granny. Sorry. I promise I will get those soon!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Happy Tuesday!

No special reason. It just sounds like fun.

Today is the Day of the Paperwork. It's official, and it is as scary as it sounds. I've got to call all our doctors and ask them to print out a list of our visits and payments over 2008 so I can pick them up while I'm in town later this week, find two missing birth certificates, go pay the water bill, get two of five registered for baseball (thank God it's only two!), and then try to have supper ready in time for me to slip out for a church meeting tonight.

I don't really think I can do it, either. But look, it's "Happy Tuesday". Year of Joy. Good thoughts. It's not the end result that matters, it's the effort you put forth. Or something like that. Haven't worked out all the details of the pep talk yet, but that's okay. Mere details. Nothing more.

Sometime in the next month or so, I'm also going to have to carve out time and cash to buy new materials for school. Dang. That went quickly. We are finally ready for Story of the World Vol. III. (THREE!) I'm so excited to find out what happens next. *grin* The boys are ready for new math books. And we are all ready for some new literature. It's been a good school year. Time to start anew and move forward, though. Very exciting.

Well, I've got fresh coffee, the kitchen's clean and the dishwasher is running. The kids won't starve. Fire's hot. Looks like I can't put it off any longer. So, I'm going into the filing cabinet. If I'm not back by Friday, send snacks.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sunday Somethings

Does anybody know why there is a little pink tricycle in my hallway? Two possibilities come to mind:

A) It's too cold to use it outside, but too much fun to leave it alone out there.
B) It's a Burmese Toddler Trap

I'm thinking B. Or a combination of the two.

Or maybe it was a mermaid trap? Nah, they don't live in hallways. Everybody knows that.

**********

I want to go back!

Today we nearly didn't make it to church. I hung in there through the oversleeping, and the children who evidently decided underwear weren't a necessity when laying out their clothes last night (but suddenly decided they were a must-have item that they were OUT OF this morning). I didn't lose it when breakfast kept going and going, long after that pink bunny's batteries up 'n died. But when church had already begun and only half of us were loaded into the car, and I turned around to find Smidge wearing sweats, still barefoot, I lost all will to fight.

Zorak asked me what I wanted to do, and I told him I wanted to stay home and yell at people. (Well, he asked.) He offered to take everybody to Lowe's and let me have some quiet time to do... whatever. It's a good indicator of my mental state that I didn't pounce on that, but instead said (half jokingly) that that wouldn't work because it didn't leave me anybody to yell at.

So, we went to church. Better late than never. And certainly better than yelling at people for no good reason. I've gotta say, the service sure does fly when you're only there for the last fifteen minutes of it.

**********

Then we all went to Lowe's. Not necessarily as much fun as napping on the beach, but definitely a bit more productive.

We came home and I washed every stitch of clothing we own. I swear, if anybody runs out of anything tomorrow morning, I'm giving up and declaring us a nudist colony.

The guys ran wiring and installed a new light fixture in the Scary Room. It's not so scary with warm, UV-showering light in there. That's how you eat an elephant - one bite at a time. We'll have this baby dished up with a stucco side dish in no time at all!

**********

And then I edited pictures. Which has nothing to do with this post, but there you go. Tell you what, to tie it in, I'll throw random vacation shots in throughout the post. That should tie it all together nicely.

(Much better.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Where We've Been

What? It's been an entire week since I've written? This is why we need to buy a laptop. (Jess mentioned Craigslist, and I think I'm going to check that out. It'd be easier to skimp on the grocery and gas money to buy one than to hide from the doctors because of it.) Anyway, that's sort of beside the point.

What's the point? The point is that, while nearly everyone we know was iced in, or wet, or cold, or just waiting for spring... we weren't. We were at the beach!

Well, no, I take that back. We were kind of cold. The kids were, anyway. But that's because my children have no sense at all (not to mention no body fat to speak of), and got IN the water. What is wrong with these people? 70 degrees on the beach may seem quite warm and frolicky, but on the beach covered in sea water, it's not so much... And just when I start to think they may one day be able to live on their own (Oh, they packed their own bags! They remembered to fill their water bottles AND get the bottles into the car! They amused themselves on the trip down! They can do it!)... they go and get wet. Then stand there, trembling and turning blue, and tell me they aren't ready to go inside yet.

*blink*

I'm thinking it's a good thing we have a few years yet before we must unleash them on the world.

And we had a wonderful trip. But I will fill you in on it this afternoon. Right now, we must find clothes and wash them so we don't have to go nekkid to church. That could be awkward.

Kiss those babies!

~Dy

Quick Church Update

We went today, all of us. It was really nice. The potluck after the service was small, as one of the families in the church had a birthday party to attend - their Grandma's 97th! What a joyful occasion! Those of us who stayed, however, also had a lovely time.

I found out the pastor's wife is a confirmed curriculum junkie. OK, so that's just a personal bonus. I didn't know they homeschool, too. But to find out that they do, and that she, also has a hard time picking curricula because there are sooooo many good ones. Oh, like a kindred soul.

The boys seemed to get along quite nicely. They told jokes back and forth over lunch, and as soon as they'd finished they all cleared their spots and disappeared out the back door. Of course, you never know if your kids are going to go and do something Truly Weird when they get out of earshot... I try not to think about that. And we did let the pastor know that we are the kind of parents who actually do want to know if our children are making poor choices. Because that's a big part of what parenting is - helping your children learn how to make good choices on a consistent basis. (Fairly consistent, anyway. Sometimes we have more hope than others, to be honest.) So we did that, and then just sat... and enjoyed the company and fellowship... and it was nice.

Even Zorak had a good time. That's a huge relief for me, anyway. That's one thing we've enjoyed at most of the PCA churches we've attended: the men aren't sitting in the background, seemingly there only because their women wanted them to be. They are active, engaged, and present in more than just body. It's so different than the churches I grew up in, and I hope that's a swing in all the churches, cross-culturally, cross-denominationally. Men have a rich and wonderful place in the church, and a church that has men who fill that place is a beautiful place to gather.

I hate to sound too optimistic so soon in the game, but it feels like this church could be a place we would comfortably call "home".

*contented sigh*

And now, I must clean. (I didn't clean before we left this morning! Oops!) The kids are playing outside. Zorak's off hunting. Jase and I are going to... well, I'm not sure how we'll go about it, but we'll find something to do. Just wanted to touch base.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Church!

EmBaby and I went to a new church last Sunday. I thought I told you. But no, I told somebody else. (So I will now be the weird old lady who never tells anybody anything and then shrieks, "But I TOLD you all about that!" You've been warned.)

I liked it. It's small. It's not five-people-and-no-room-for-strangers small, just small. Maybe 15 families. The service wasn't a surprise, doctrinally, but the lack of sparkly accompaniment to the service was a Very Pleasant Surprise.

There is one other homeschooling family. They also have five kids. But they have sheep, which we don't have. Very nice people, all the way around. The Mother does weaving. She wove the scarf she was wearing - silk - gorgeous - dyed it herself w/ bugs. Very funny person (like ha-ha-funny, not oh-that's-odd-funny). Didn't look at me like I have three heads for homeschooling five children. *ahhhhh*

They know, and admire, some of our favorite people and leaders from our Home Church (way up North), so that was a nice immediate middle ground. And when I said I was tempted to go back to high school just so I could take one of Dave Hammond's history classes, at least three other people nodded their heads and laughed. He is awesome. I have missed his lectures. Anyway, I'm getting off course, here...

They have a rocking chair in the sanctuary for rocking babies! IN the sanctuary! OK, that goes above, beyond, and well into the realm of My Wildest Dreams. IN the sanctuary, people? Of course, Zorak can't use it b/c he'll fall asleep. But still. Wow.

The pastor's wife approached me after the service and while we talked, she mentioned that they don't have age-segregated activities, but that they do a lot of family-oriented activity, instead. She also said she didn't want us to feel that they had nothing to offer because of the lack of programs, and if we have any ideas for anything that we think "would fit the community" please say something. (I told her that I'd be a bit of a hypocrite to suggest new programs, knowing full well that my littles are still so little and they need me more than anybody else needs a class. She laughed, and said she gets it.)

Did ya hear that? They get it.

Emily met everyone. in. the. room. Even people I didn't get to meet. When we left, three or four people yelled good-bye to her from across the room. I do not know when she met them. She's hilarious. And obviously, I'm getting a little slack in the parenting arena.

I did have one panicky moment when a gentleman came up and introduced himself. I introduced myself, then Emily. I said she's three, and he said, "...and four." And I froze. Ummm, this man reads my blog? Um... What have I written lately?

Turns out that no, he doesn't read my blog. But he'd already met EmBaby, who was busy telling everyone she is "three and four".

Like I said, it's a good thing I took the shy one. Break 'em in slowly... So we'll all go today. And they're having a potluck community outreach supper. *contented sigh* We're taking a dump cake, because the kids can make that, themselves, and have something to offer that they've made. A little personal contribution when you're building community. Hopefully, this will be the place we'll call Home. I'll let you know how it goes today. (And if I don't mention it, remind me. I may have thought I'd already told you.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Misc. Things - Stove Questions

Hey, all. I thought I'd blogged the details of the stove. But I think I only emailed KathyJo about it, and I have such a fear of turning into that woman who tells the Same. Three. Stories over and over that if I can actually recall having given info once, I tend to shy away from doing so again. Even if it means I forget to tell people important things, like we're pregnant (we aren't, but I did neglect to tell a few people this last time around), or we've moved (again, not a recent occasion), or, more recently, details about our stove.

So.

Sorry 'bout that.

The stove is the Magnolia 2015 from US Stove Co. But it's only available through dealers, which turns out to be a good thing, in this case, as the listed MSRP on their page would make a grown woman cry. (Ask me how I know.) We bought ours at Tractor Supply, which is like our own personal playground. *happy sigh* Love that store.

So, here's what brought us to this stove (copied and pasted from my emails - and people laugh at me for not clearing out my inbox! Oh, and with grammatical corrections to reflect that this was in the past, 'cuz it wasn't when I wrote the email. That's it. I think):

It was down to that one and two others, that are at Lowe's, (b/c we were really feeling the crunch betwen dental work, home repairs, and the damned food costs) - the ones at Lowe's pretty much heebed us out. This one was worth the additional $50.

Pros, in no particular order - (ok, I went back and made the primary concerns bold)
* Top is 3/8" (Charles says it looks like 5/16" - we're both too lazy/tired to go measure - still too lazy, three months later, in fact) steel plate, as opposed to 1/4" on others. Regardless of the actual measurement, it was obviously thicker.
* Vents out the top, as opposed to out the back, which saves us floor space.
* The vent pipe is toward the back of the stove top, and since this stove is a bit deeper and narrower than other designs, it leaves a nice flat surface for a kettle or a stew pot.
* Rear clearance is 7" - if you put the "fire board" thingies against the wall, you could pretty much just snug it up to the wall.
* It has a cool swoosh thing on the top, which seems to us like it would help trap smoke up top there and allow less to escape into the house when you open the door. (That one is total out-of-our-butts speculation on our part.)
* Log length is 19-1/2" - if you end up buying pre-cut wood, the standard is 18" - nothing sucks more than having to shave half an inch off every single log before you can use it. If, like us, you will end up using salvage woods and scrap, it's nice to know that longer pieces can be put in to bank the fire for the night.
* You can put the logs in lengthwise (perpendicular to the door), reducing the likelihood that one will roll out onto your poor son's foot the first time you finally agree to let him add another log to the fire.
* The legs are cast, Queen Anne style legs, not bent, flat sheet metal. They had another one (the Frontiersman, or something like that) that looked okay - for a DIY project. We could have cut the parts for that, ourselves, with a torch. I like these legs better.
* It doesn't have that chintzy fake silver trim crap that you just know is going to look like shit by the end of the first winter.
* (And this one probably only applies to me, but I'm really slow about this.) The flue control is easy to remember - pull it out to open, push it in to close. Yay.
* The door is cast iron, with an arched top profile - which gives it a bit more architectural interest, compared to the pre-fab rectangle style door. Purely visual thing, but it made a difference to us.
* It comes standard with a blower - that's about $135 extra at Lowe's, so that, alone puts this one way ahead of the pack on overall price-per-feature. (We haven't tried it, but will let you know how it works, and whether it sounds like an El Camino barreling down the hall.)
* And hey, it's Trailer House Approved! (And not just because it can take the random "someone was running around the trailer with a loaded shotgun" shot. We suspect it's also a ventilation issue.)

Cons -
* Not tickled w/ the ash pan, but I wasn't tickled w/ any of the ash pans. (We have yet to actually use the ash pan - just scoop it out and into a bucket.)
* Firebricks are thinner than on the behemoth we had before - this may actually be due to an improved design, I don't know. But none of the literature we found indicated some huge industry-wide breakthrough in firebricks... so *shrug* Dunno. Going to buy a box of spares, though, and just stick it in the yucky room w/ a note.
* We reserve the right to add more as we use it, though.

Honestly, if space constraints were not an issue, we'd probably go w/ a more efficient (and less previously abused) version of the behemoth one we used our first winter here. They are space-eaters, to put it mildly, but it's really nice not to have to worry about one of the kids getting burned b/c they have a heat shield all the way around. As it is, though, space is a serious issue here, so that nixed it for us. (Edited to add: we have no buyer's remorse on this one. Quite happy with it. It does get hot to the touch, which the other one mentioned in this paragraph doesn't, but that's not as big an issue as we feared.)

Don't be sucked in by the absolutely ADORABLE "boxwood" stoves, which sell for anywhere from $125-$300. Gah, they are cute, but they are inefficient as all hell, and you'll spend the vast majority of your day feeding the little turd. Not worth it, imho.

Ha!

It is 17 degrees outside right now.

It is 74 degrees in the house.

We still have not turned on the HVAC this winter.

Just in case you were wondering how the stove is working out.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And We Wonder Why They Get Confused

I'll set the stage:

James and John are at the table, completing their writing work for the day.

I'm working in the kitchen.

Smidge and Emily are riding a tricycle/chasing one another around the house.

Jase is eating something nobody can remember giving him, and providing general background noise.
*************************************************************

Em asks Smidge to wait. He ignores her. She tells him to wait. He goes a few more feet before stopping, but still doesn't acknowledge her with his words. She shrieks. He hollers.

I take a deep breath and remind everybody that this nonsense of ignoring one another simply has. to. stop. Like yesterday. Thank you.

Smidge, Em and Jase return to their regularly scheduled noise making.

James asks if he can write now.

What? Of course you can.

Well, it's just hard to concentrate with you talking to the littles every few minutes.

(And you see this coming, don't you?)

Well, honey, you're just going to have to learn to ignore me.

Thankfully, he cracked up and got back to writing. It could have gone horribly awry.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sandwiched Between the Days

Well, folks, as we are motivated by urgency, I can finally say we have re-insulated the water line where it crosses the creek. This sounds great, doesn't it? Except for that bit about urgency. Yeah.

Thursday night, the low was 8 degrees. The first thing I heard that morning (around six) was Zorak announcing from the bathroom, "Bad news, sports fans." Ugh. I guessed (correctly) that didn't mean we were out of coffee. Turns out, eight degrees is cold enough that even leaving two faucets going doesn't help. Gah.

Since the weather wasn't looking to go above freezing anytime in the next two days (it had warmed up to a sultry nine degrees by seven-thirty), he stayed home that morning, we relegated the children to the wolves that raise all children-who-live-in-renovations, and we went about fixing the pipe.

We couldn't use flame to thaw the pipe because it's PVC. So we took the stockpot down to the creek and filled it with water. (Yay for the creek!) Then we boiled the water (yay for the camp stove!), cut an old towel into strips (yay for the rag bin!), and proceeded to strip the old insulation away from the pipe (boo-hiss for whoever insulated it that way to begin with).

Then it was just a matter of dipping and wrapping the towels around the pipe, refreshing each towel as it cooled. That took quite a while, but it worked beautifully as we went up and then over the creek. It was at that joint leading downward that we ran into a little glitch.

The pipe popped right out of the joint! It fell into the creek, and immediately cleared itself of residual ice, along with a few gallons of water, until we could find the key and turn off the water at the meter. Ah. Lovely. Turns out, it was never glued in. Well, not only was the pipe not cut at right angles, nor did it run at right angles, but it was jammed into 90-degree fittings and just sort of held there by a mixture of God and gravity.

It's not like whoever did this didn't know you should glue the pipe joints in a pressurized line together, as the various bits of wildly different lengths that were all stubbed together at random points were glued (though not w/ PVC glue - not sure what that was all about). It reminded both of us of Cinderhenge, in the Scary Room (the cinderblock pillars stretching up to nothingness, spread out through that room).

By then, it had warmed up to a balmy 19 degrees, and we figured we might as well put it back together properly. OK, Zorak figured we should put it back properly. I was all for just slapping it back in for now and thawing ourselves a bit before the frostbite set in. But for all my bellyaching, he was the one standing in the creek (the makeshift bridge kept giving way, and he finally just quit trying), and he wasn't wearing gloves (once they got wet, they were useless, anyway)... and HE wasn't complaining. So. Fine. We fixed it.

One trip to the basement for pipe and a hacksaw; one trip to the feed store for fittings and fresh glue; a whole lot of self-deprecation on my part for being such a total weenie when he's so stinkin' tough... and it's back together, with everything that goes into a 90-degree fitting actually running at a 90-degree angle, better insulated, and - most importantly - no longer frozen. Yay.

That set us back considerably on our weekend plans, but it was worth it. We have water. Yay.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Now She is Three

"...and Four". And still convinced that she will "soon be Jacob". (Which explains her insistance that she just get two years over with in 2009.) I love the hope that will not give up; someday, she will catch up.

Such a sweet girl. We are in no hurry to divest her of her hopes and dreams. They'll grow and change, as she does, and my biggest hopes for her are that her hopes are always bright, and her dreams are always wonderful...

That her brothers can always make her smile by knowing exactly what she needs (or wants)...

That she always believes she can do it, she can help, she can figure it out...

That she doesn't develop an unhealthy shoe attachment... although those are some pretty darned sparkly, happy-making shoes, there.

I hope she always has kisses in the morning, laughter in the day, and roses in winter.

Happy 3rd (and 4th) Birthday, EmBaby!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

(And I have to admit that while we were arranging the cupcakes on the platter, I kept saying to myself, "These are cupcakes on a plate. They are not a cupcake cake. They are not a cupcake cake. She wanted cupcakes, and these are individual, separate cupcakes, not cupcake cakes...")

THE TICK!

No, we didn't find a tick. We got The Tick vs. Season 1 in, through Netflix. *happy sigh* I love The Tick. And I do love Netflix. The boys are about to love Netflix even more, if that's possible. *grin*

So, before I go hog up one of the beanbags and watch with the boys, I thought I'd leave you with this little tidbit...

James has been making up Books Never Written - he came up with this one today:

How to Make a Pencil, by B. Sharpe (Author of How to Succeed in School)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Um, yeah.

I've got to quit falling asleep on the couch. But we have this awesome throw pillow, and when I grab it and lie down, somebody comes and snuggles with me. Then I get warm and drowsy and the next thing I know, Zorak's hauling me off the couch at two in the morning because that's not where I oughta be sleeping. Maybe I'll move the throw pillow to our room?

Smidge and I were at the dentist this morning at 7:30, where they did some absolutely horrific procedure that I don't want to relate. Without novacaine. And he didn't flinch. I'm starting to suspect that the kids' dentist is a hypnotist. They're all so... so... I don't know, but as they go about their business, it's all so smooth and cheerful and painless. Which I appreciate, but there I am, at the end of the table, just watching in morbid fascination as the process unfolds, asking inappropriate questions like, "So, that goes all the way to the root?" (I can't help myself - it's like watching an autopsy, only the bodies are alive - I'd be a total pain in the butt observing an actual surgery.) When we left, Smidge was ready for a creamslush from Sonic, but I needed some Tums or something. *shudder*

Anyway, we're all hunkered down for the cold. The Relative Cold. (Guys, I cannot actually complain! -9!?! -2?!? Who even cares about the windchill anymore when your eyeballs will freeze solid upon leaving the house? They'll shatter if you slip and fall. YIKES! Y'all are tough.) But we are hitting the library. Good call, that. Thanks!

The boys have piano this afternoon, and then it's all quiet, smooth sailing. I've got almost two weeks of suppers planned out for grocery day tomorrow. Not thrilling news, I know, but Zorak will appreciate hearing something other than "nope" when he asks if I have a plan for supper. And the boys will be glad not to have to help haul me back up out of the chest freezer when I've been digging around in there so long my back sticks and my arms are too cold to lift myself up. So really, in perspective, that is fairly exciting news. At least, for our neck of the woods.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Hi.

So busy today! Smidge has an appointment with the dentist. Poor little guy developed an abcess. It's not a surprise. He's got a tooth that he killed or scared or something (he's got my graceful genes - always tripping into something - I'm sure he'll thank me later, right?) and it changed color. At his last checkup, the dentist said we'd just keep an eye on it. So, into town today.

And then, to the pharmacy for antibiotics, I'm sure.

It's amazing to me that our children willingly tell us when they are having a problem. Particularly one that will involve a trip to a medical professional to have rectified. Man, I could have had flesh eating aliens hatching in my mouth, and I wouldn't have said a word to my mother! Consequently, she didn't know anything was wrong until mere breathing just about killed me. But these kids are great. At the first sign of trouble, be it a sore spot, or trouble flossing, they come to us and say, "We need to call Dr. B. I'm having trouble with this spot." Huh. I don't tell them I think that's wild. But it's wild.

We'll drop off donations after we hit the pharmacy, and then come home to finish school. (In theory, we take our books with us so they can work in the waiting room. In practice, all they learn is how to carry their book bags with them, but not so much work actually takes place. So, we'll "finish", erm, doitall, when we get home.)

It's supposed to get colder than various metaphorical body parts here in the next few days. High of 29 one day, according to weather.com! I know those of you in the Northern Parts are scoffing as us right now, but seriously, you've seen the pictures. Hillbillies do not handle sub-freezing temperatures well. We can never find our shoes! Hopefully, we can get enough wood up on the porch that we won't need to find the shoes, and then we can stay happily inside and not care that the water pipes may freeze, and be quite thankful we don't have chickens to let out, and... maybe I need to place a book order?

Ok, I'm off!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Clear and Cold, School is in Session

Weather reports from some obscure portion of North America. Just what people come to read, no? No. Yeah. Well, I'm trying desperately not to write a "to-do" list, which is what AM blogging usually turns into, for me.

Tried to teach Smidge his reading this morning. I should never have deviated from my belovedly mangled method of teaching via of WRTR. He *hates* (loathes? thinks dark thoughts toward?) Spelling Workout. I thought he'd like it. Turns out he's not a workbook kid. And that's okay. That's why we don't have to do it, and he doesn't have to hash out whether that's supposed to be a "car" an "automobile" or a "Jeep" in the picture before he decides what the beginning sound is supposed to be. So. Yay.

But then, trying to spice things up a bit, I tried to be funny. Or fun. Or something. So I'm telling him about the "magic letters, e, i, and y" and how they can magically change c or g to say different sounds. He didn't buy it. "There's no such thing as a magic letter, Mom."

So I called in the big boys for backup. (I should know better.) They were with me on all of it, up to the point that I said, "So, see? They're magic letters!" They bailed on me! There's no magic letter! No magic at all! It's all *gasp* LOGIC.

And humor. Oh, everybody's a comedian. They took that ball and ran with it, juggled it, and then somebody fell off the chair and everything was all pandemonium.

Fine. We'll do it your way, then.

But Smidge won't soon forget that C, followed by e, i, or y, says it's second sound. ;-) And, he much prefers the dry erase board and a slightly botched Spalding method to learning this stuff than the workbooks and pencils.

More fun with words: John is doing battle with the dictionary. He's pretty sure we know the definitions and could save him a lot of time, but -- for whatever reason *cough*cough*, we aren't sharing the information. And hostel is just a wee bit different than hostile, just in case you were wondering!

Not bad for a Monday morning, with nothing yet to reflect on, I think. But it is quite clear and cold this morning, and Zorak didn't leave me enough kindling to re-start the fire. (He has too much faith in my abilities, that man. Far too much faith.) So, I'm going to redirect the children in a few minutes and go hack up some splinters for the fire.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I love this life.

John got his first squirrel today. He's been out target shooting every opportunity possible, so he'd be ready for just this occasion. And he is probably the happiest boy in the world. He'd actually be happier if he'd gotten another one, but I'm okay with just one because it's going to take me a while to work up the gumption to actually cook it. And that's the rule: you kill it, you eat it. Of course, in his enthusiasm, he loosely translated that to "we'll eat it", and he's been aching "to get you a squirrel, Mom" since roughly 9:37 Christmas morning, when he opened his .410/.22 combo. He was bursting with pride today as he called me out onto the porch to see what he'd brought me.

Funny, all along, I thought I was raising children and come to find out, I've raised a cat. Anyway, we're thinking pot pie... I'll let you know how that goes.

And, ironically, I spent the day disinfecting the house. The two are not related, however. (Though perhaps they should be.) We've been passing some kind of sinusy gunk back and forth since September. Considering that evens out to be only about 6-8 days per person, it's not bad. But the cumulative effect from seven people in one home is a bit wearing on the tribal leaders. So. Yay. All cleaned and sanitized. Except for the porch, obviously.

Wood stove update: still loving it! The low tonight is near freezing, and the porch is stacked with wood for the fire. The house is staying around 70 degrees, which makes this, hands down, the warmest, coziest winter we've had. We checked the propane tank yesterday, and it's still over 60% full. It was last filled sometime in late October, early November (only fills to 80% max). We have a little 250gal. tank. Last winter, we had to have a delivery every month (min. 100 gal. delivery - ouch!), and the house never got above 60 degrees. What a sanity saver this thing has been! Both James and John have become quite proficient at starting and tending the fire, which is great, because when it comes to building fires I could smoke a moose before I got a good flame going (although I've had better luck w/ this stove, which I appreciate). Fortunately, they enjoy doing it, too.

And, in discussing plans for EmBaby's birthday, she informed us she has decided to be four this year. Her brothers protested, so her final compromise is that she'll be "three and four". It seems the plan is to hurry up and turn five. "Then I'll be Jacob!" We're glad she's enthusiastic, but we may have to work a bit on her grasp of the process. The boys want to make the decorations for her birthday, so while she naps, they plan to take advantage of the time and get things lined up. Smidge wondered where we'd hide them, and James helpfully suggested, "We can hide them in the master bathroom, where Mom hides the Christmas presents. That's an excellent hiding place!"

Yep, I do love this life.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Project Overview and Fun Winter Days

Zorak took pity on the children after watching them play with the wagon remnants for a few months. They just couldn't accept that it had died. (Is there anything more pathetic than seeing a child stand in the bed of a wagon with no wheels, waiting for a sibling to come pull the wagon?) A few metal straps, some new bolts, and a can of Rust-Oleum later...

...and another generation of children will know the joy of riding Calvinesquely down the hill.

We've also finished the linen cabinet door, Smidge's bed, another coat rack/bookshelf, and some other project I know I'm forgetting. But my camera has cried Uncle! and needs some TLC. Unfortunately, TLC for a digital camera runs almost enough-to-make-you-want-a-new-camera-instead. But not quite, as it turns out, once you start pricing replacement cameras. So. Pictures lately haven't turned out well enough for Project Blogging.

Outdoor shots seem to be least affected. Which is why I bring you Charge of the Light Brigade, recast starring Smidge... (I missed the charge up the hill with his sword drawn - too funny, that one is.)

And, true to our Apathetically Organic label (or, it would be a label, if KathyJo would quit gasping in horror at the thought of being Organic out of sheer laziness and make me one)... *edited to add - we're lazy. She's not. She works hard. We just don't, really.*

ANYway, we've been working on the land a bit, too.

What? That doesn't look like farming to you? It's, um, it's a tension resistance test. Very important for those... I don't know what that is. Maybe it's a Dogwood? I'll tell you in May, when it blooms. OK, actually, we were flying gliders and one got caught in the tree. So James retrieved it. And what's more fun than shaking the tree your brother is in? I don't know. Looks mighty fun from John's perspective, though. (And yes, I know he's barefooted. I figured if he fell from the scrawniest tree on the entire property and actually broke something, shoes would be the least of our concerns.)

Oh! Oh, now I remember the other project. But we didn't finish it. We began it today. We're clearing rubbish from the Scary Room so that we can build a storage pantry back there. That'll free up the actual basement-y area to be completed. Then we'll have a family room. Or a room I can escape to, where I can hide snacks. And books. And perhaps a coffee pot and a mini-fridge...

Busy season!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy