Boring Technical Blog For Hillary

I have to laugh, here, because Hillary is like the loving, worry-wart sister that I never had. I feel like I've been adopted. :-) However, knowing that we've hashed all that stuff out on our end doesn't help much, considering I haven't blogged about it. So, I thank you for the hugs and care, Hillary, and will try to answer your questions the best I can. Let me know if I miss anything pertinent, though.

Where to start? Well, thanks to the bureaucracy that is our federal government, the presence of the mold was an issue that had to be dealt with before anything else (in this case, the causes of the mold) could be dealt with. Think of it as the medical model of home care: we don't care what the problem is, but we'll treat the symptoms, spend a ton of your money doing it, and then that rash will clear right up and you can be on your way! Oh, sure you'll still be sick as a dog, but you'll look and feel better (and we'll have your money).

The two thousand dollars spent (thankfully, not by us) to do the mold abatement was stoopid. Worse, it was a travesty of common sense perpetrated by Jackasses of the highest FHA Executive level. There is *no* mold on the surfaces of the inside of the home now. None. There were less than two spores per square inch, and the expected level is much higher than that. For that, sure I'm thankful. It makes the upcoming task a little less gruesome, visually. But not only was that not the cause of the problem, 98% of those surfaces are going to be ripped out this weekend, so that was an awful lot of money for nothing. I'll get the appraisal pictures and show ya. It was "ew", and now it's "not so ew", but the actual cause of the mold hasn't been touched.

Now, this bothers me, not because I feel we'd be better off living with small children in a mold-infested home. Rather, because I feel we are capable, intelligent individuals who take our role as parental units quite seriously and to be honest, our standards are actually higher than the G-man Standards. The difference is in the approach. We would much rather to have closed on this place before it was a Ch-ch-ch-chia house, thus saving our money on rent and utilities here, letting the other involved parties save their money, as well... and we would still have taken the same path I'll outline below.

Why? Because it's our home. It's also our blood, sweat, tears, and finances that are going into this place. So, we signed sixteen pages of mold disclosure papers two months ago. We received the Federal Mold Statement in three different forms (one including pictures, just to make sure we get it). We were informed by both the Mortgage Co. and Wonderful Realtor of all available exits and how to use our oxygen masks in case of cabin decompression. We were informed consumers who were willing to address the issue in the best manner possible, but you know, the holistic approach is just voodoo for the ignorant masses and gee-isn't-it-wonderful-to-have-a-gov't-looking-out-for-us-ignorant-plebes. That's where this whole hurdle sticks in my craw just a wee bit.

The boys will be exiled to the outside until the property is farther along its path and ready to go. In preparation for that, we're having the entire thing bush hogged tomorrow, and putting up a play area at the top of the hill. This will be their sanctuary, where the boys can play, picnic, and frolic in the relative safety of the out-of-doors. We'll BBQ and make sandwiches, and they'll learn that the cooler is a great portable fridge (and yes, you still need to shut the door when you're done!)

So, now that all the current mold is dead (and that's the stuff that was floating about in the house when Mr. Mold Inspector did his air test - he is confident that consistent airing and the corrective measures we propose will eradicate the issue), we'll have to work fast in order to stop the water infiltration (ie., cause of the mold) before the mold can regroup and launch another attack. We have, fortunately, had plenty of time to process our action plan and come up with some nifty ideas that range from decorative (ohhhh, what if we just don't put in upper cabinets?) to structural (that kitchen wall is comin' out, baby!), and on to health and safety (look, leaking pipes! probably oughta do something about that, eh?). It's been good. Before we move into the house, the actual problems that have brought mold into our abode will be addressed.

The problems as we have been able to identify so far are as follows, with corrective measures in red. First, we will turn off the water to the place. That, alone, will do tremendous strategic damage to the march of the mold. Then, it's on to corrective action:
1) Water heater leaks - replace water heater (also upgrade to propane at the same time)
2) Pipes leak - replace leaking pipes (also, switching to a PEX manifold system, swanky!)
3) There is an unfinished, vile, scary, SCARY dank crawl space sort of torture cellar thing behind the basement. It makes the landscape of LUD look well-ventilated and healthy - this room needs to be cleaned, dried, tarred, and then closed for all eternity. This room is also on the uphill side of the house, which leads us to the next problem...
4) The gutters dump ALL the water from the back two quadrants of the house right there into that uppermost corner, where the water seeps into the scary Koontz family photo studio - reroute gutters to improve drainage.
5) Every outside water faucet leaks constantly, leaving a mire of sludge to seep into the basement - we're capping these and will decide what to do with them later.
6) The house is on a hill and the drainage on the uphill side isn't an engineer's crowning achievement - we'll regrade the top of the hill (it's small) and put in a French Drain.
7) The doors to the basement don't shut properly - we will change that, then, won't we?

Truthfully, these are all minor issues that a little forethought and regular maintenance could have avoided. Once they're taken in hand, it will be easy, and these projects will be among our daily activities for the next three weeks. (Note: don't expect spectacular blogging.) They'll run somewhat parallel with removing all the interior walls, cabinetry, appliances, insulation, flooring and subflooring, checking/upgrading the wiring, and then laying all new materials from top to bottom. The two rooms which must be completely finished before we can move into it are the main bath and the kitchen. Two bedrooms do need to have drywall back up, but not necessarily taken to their soon-to-be exquisite state. That will come.

However, the short version is that yes, the boys will be safe. No, we wouldn't knowingly put them in a position that would harm them or cause their precious lives to be lessened. Honestly, we've seen worse conditions in fully approved rental properties (not sure if that's encouraging or not, but there it is). We do feel this is a good investment that is 100% do-able, as long as we're a team. I wouldn't touch this place with a 50' pole if I was alone in the world, but then, I wouldn't need a Forever Home for my wonderful family, then, either.

Tomorrow's going to be a busy day, so I'm signing off. 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...

Winter wonderland!

We keep getting snow! And rain! It's beautiful and wonderful. We need another few loads of gravel and some concrete, though. The driveway looks as though the house has been abandoned longer than we've actually lived here. The Volvo lodges pretty legitimate complaints every time Zorak tries to leave. Hopefully, we'll be able to get the drive graded and lay down some rock in the next week or so, seeing as Zorak kind of has to go to work on a regular basis. I'm sure the UPS guy would appreciate it, as well.

In the meantime, I've had the next round of surgeries on my jaw this week. Today was a recovery day. I am thankful to have an astoundingly talented periodontist who I trust with my life. I am also thankful, 24 hours later, for the technology that is modern pharmaceuticals. Truly. Beyond words. God bless the inventors of Percocet and Zofran, and those who make the generics available now. *\o/*

It's funny, though how often I wish for some quiet time, yet by about ten this morning, I found myself just listening to the kids down the hall, and it was impossible not to scoop Jase up in a big old snuggle every time he made a break for it and came rambling down the hall to me (which was about every 30 minutes or so). It made my jaw ache a bit, but I couldn't resist reading with the boys at bedtime. That really was the highlight of the day.

They're enjoying the long weekend, and getting ready for the Pinewood Derby. I think today they set up the track in the basement and rigged the lever so Jase can operate it. He had a blast, but from what the boys said, he forgets to clear the track. I think they're being gracious. I doubt he's forgetting anything - he's more likely aiming more for a Pinewood Demolition Derby. Regardless, he's stoked and the basement is Speed Shop Ready! Let 'em roll!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Beauty is...

Definitely in the eye of the beholder.

This is the ex-Zen waterfall back in the Scary Room. The tar paper funnel? Unnecessary now. (Well, and partially useless to begin with, but that's what we had at the time.) There is a bit of dampness (Amy, I won't use the "m" word in this post, just because you're still recovering and I adore you - but it is "m" down there.) What there is not, however, is actual FLOW, conveyance, or white water rapids.

It rained harder last night than it has in over a year. The creek nearly flooded. There is debris along the edge of the drive, it came up that high. Zorak actually called to ask that I keep the kids away from the creek today because it was so full and moving so quickly. That's a LOT. Of. Rain, folks.

Until now, this basement has flooded in the kind of light rains that Bert and Mary Poppins dance in. Normally, you can hear the water flowing when you go into the basement. This morning? Silence. Sweet, semi-dry silence. And after I screwed up the courage to open the door and look I was quite delighted to find it THIS dry. Also, up top, there are usually small pools (filled with some kind of aquatic life, I'm sure, something like Smeagol), but as far as I could tell - not that I scampered up that embankment - there aren't any!

And all we did (well, all Zorak did - I stood there and pretended to be able to eyeball the slope) was the dirt work from the last couple of weekends! WOOHOO!

So, now...

A french drain...

Some foliage...

It'll soon be dry and snug under there. (Not that I'll want to hang out in it, even then, but, you know, it'll be progress.)

And yes, it's still an ugly room. But that nearly dry corner? Beautiful!

~Dy

*for the record, Zorak objects to the use of the phrase "screwed up the courage" - he says it sounds like I messed it up somehow. But you know, I really, truly didn't want to open that door, and I can't think of a better way to phrase it!*

A Lovely Day and Big Plans

Well, BabyJ kept me up until about five this morning. I think Zorak had intended to let me sleep in a bit, but the boys were anxious to fix me breakfast in bed for Mother's Day. Had I not been (a) still mostly asleep, and (b) nursing the wee one, when they made their grand entrance (setting the plate on the wee babe, since that was closest to my head, I suppose), I'm sure my gratitude would have been more clearly evident than with my groggy, utterances of, "oh. OH! Oh, um, oh" It was all I could come up with. When they brought in the coffee, I got really nervous, pried myself loose and joined everyone for breakfast at the table.

By the time we'd eaten (and I was a bit more alert, erm, coherent), we decided today should be a work day. Zorak, John and Smidge worked on the balcony piers. I worked in the basement. James watched Jason and Em for me. We talked. We worked. We planned. It's not your typical Mother's Day dream plan, but it's so very "us". Yes, we're geeks. We know this. We embrace it. It's what makes it all work, you know.

Zorak managed to avoid having to discuss his birthday plans with me just long enough that I hit that stage where my voice cracks and my right eye twitches involuntarily. I'd written on my calendar that invitations were to go out Monday. TOMORROW. And here, we didn't even have a menu, or a theme, or a balcony! He took pity on me and nailed down a few details. Invitations won't go out tomorrow, but we have a theme, a menu, and he's promised me a list of names from work by tomorrow evening.

We may, or may not, have a balcony in time. We've decided we're not sweating it. However, since I evidently only work well under incredible pressure with unreasonable expectations, my insane inner self decided that I need to have the basement party-presentable "just in case" the weather is bad.

Right.

Because a tent in the meadow somehow provides less shelter than an open-air balcony.

I know. I don't get it, either. It's a wacky world inside this head. But I seldom get bored. So, there's that.

It's about time for a curriculum and scheduling post, too! I just have to stop hyperventilating over the cost of the new curriculum, first. It'll come.

And now, in case that little bundle of late-night energy decides to wake up and party, I'm going to get some shut-eye, myself.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Accomplishments, Big and Small

Big:

The pickets are up on the balcony. Changed the *whole* look and feel of it. Will try to get pictures. Someone's going to have to remind me to post before and after pics, though, because my brain isn't working properly. (I'm also working on obtaining grant money to prove my hypothesis that humidity clogs the synapses.)

Dad's old desk - circa 1940's, awesome, Ed Harris as a gov't agent, heavy, wood desk - has now been cleaned, refinished, runners sanded and waxed, and reassembled. Due to The Way I Do Things, it is already covered in stuff.

Basement progress is picking up speed. Zorak headed to the recycling bins with an entire pickup bed (long bed, at that) full of flattened cardboard boxes. The erstwhile contents are now shredded compost material, loaded up for a trip to the donation store, or filed away neatly.

AND, I vacuumed the basement.

Yeah, no kidding.

FOUND the disk for the camera upload software. Thankfully, as that model has been discontinued and Fuji no longer has any disks in stock. Big old vampire-killing silver bullet dodged, my friends. *whew*

Uploaded the 422 pictures we've taken since switching computers.

Most of them are blurry nostril shots, courtesy of the SmidgeCam.

Little:

Um, still can't figure out how to use Photoshop Elements. Not for a lack of trying. Must push harder on that grant money.

And, on a rather obscure note, we (the kids and I) cleaned out "the pen boxes". Picture, if you will, 70 years of writing implements shoved into desk drawers, all collected and bound in cardboard during various moves, just waiting for us to one day be so desperate not to have to go outside that we scrounged up scrap paper and plunked ourselves down on the floor to doodle our way through the pile. A surprising number of pens still worked. The totally, irrationally exciting part, though, is that we found two fountain pens!! You may not know this, but I have a teeny tiny obsession with stationery products. So, when I discovered they still have ink in them, and they work, and learned the histories behind them, and fondled them, and figured out that you can buy ink pots, and, and, and...

well, you just can't end a day of cleaning on a better note than that.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Project Round-Up

Wow, all that light coming in through the window highlights every little thing that needs finishing around here. I have a list, however, and we have A Plan. So, on we go!

There's a cabinet/bookshelf that's been languishing in the dining room for years. It held the printer and ALL the paper I didn't know what to do with, but couldn't part with, either. As of today, it's out of there, and we have room to put a coat rack by that door. It's going to be swanky and practical. I'm so excited. Overall, this is a win. However, turns out we never put baseboard behind it. I think Zorak built the cabinet shortly after we put the flooring in, and the baseboards came a year or so after that, so... we blew it off. Well, no longer! The house now has a contiguous line of baseboard around all the walls in all the rooms. It's almost like living with grown ups.

And, the cabinet is empty. That, in itself, was a project. All the paper hoarding tendencies got dealt with head-on this week. Ouch. There's a therapeutic glass of wine waiting at the end of one of these projects, I hope. I'm going to savor the living daylights out of it, if there is.

We started the late-winter limb debridement, as well. Mother Nature tends to the most urgent limbs for us, but she's pretty bad about just dropping them anywhere. I like to think they're good to have around - they're natural, and composty, and provide a sense of wild adornment. Zorak insists they give the place a neglected, mildly haunted look that's unappealing to all except the least desirable visitors (namely field mice and squatters). OK, that's a fairly compelling argument. He wins. We'll pick up. I'm hoping to visit the landscape guy this week. We have friends who visited him and followed his advice, and their front yard went from Random Woodsy Front Yard to Lovely Rural Garden Vista in a weekend. I want that. Of course, we're slower than they are, and not nearly as motivated, so I'll be happy if we do in a year what they did in a weekend. As long as it gets done, there will be fistbumps. Maybe even high fives, if I'm feeling particularly geeky.

The basement, ever a source of manual labor requirements and probably the biggest reason Z and I avoid making eye contact from time to time, is also in our sights. Cull, clear, clean, burn, donate, give away, sell, burn a little more (the burn barrel is *right there*. No excuse, really.) You'd think that we would eventually have an empty, open space we could let out for dances and weddings, but so far, it's not looking like that's going to happen. Someone is sneaking stuff in there. I don't know who, or what, exactly, but... it's uncanny how much stuff is still there after several years of culling, burning, and giving away. We're blessed, that's for sure, but we need to be blessing others a little more fervently, I think.

That, school, and playing in the freak snow we got this week have pretty much been all we're up to. Hard to make that interesting, so it's easier to skip. There's a lot going on, but I'm not ready to spill it here yet. And of course, the minute someone says, "Don't think about the Stay-puff Marshmallow Man," that's all you can think of. It's funny to be human. We're so weird.

Tomorrow, it's back to the basement. I think we've got some bathroom vents to do maintenance on, as well. But I promise that if I do blog, it won't be the equivalent of a checked off to-do list, like this one was. If you're here, and you're reading, you deserve better than that. Or at least more effort. No guarantees that the quality will be much better, regardless.

Kiss those babies, always,

Dy

What Shall We Read, Now?

With the bigs at camp, I thought we'd branch out with the bedtime reading this week. I had a slew of ideas on deck. I did not realize, however, that Jacob has spent the last few months staring wistfully at his brothers' reading lists, wishing we could read those. Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates, All Creatures Great and Small... he's happy as happy can be!

Jase, who generally dissolves into fits of frustration and ire when it comes time to read (although I suspect that's more about the bedtime that follows) spent this evening kneeling in front of his bookcase, picking out stories to read together. It's crazy stuff, but so very good.

EmBaby and I just finished Little House in the Big Woods. I didn't choose it as a family read-aloud, because I've read those books to the boys at least twice, and they've read them, themselves. Yet every time I began reading with her, bodies drifted toward the couch, leaned against the stove, or draped across the arm of a chair, all else forgotten for a few minutes while they re-visited the pig on the sled, or the bear Ma slapped, or the sugar snow. Those stories weave a wicked magical spell on the house. And then, as soon as the chapter is over, the spell is broken and each one goes back to his tasks, happy and content.

When we did the latest (though not the last - but one could wish) threshing of the basement, James found our copy of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Oh! The celebratory reaction from all (we'd missed reading it this past Christmas, because, evidently, it was in the basement). It's in the queue, now. For June. Of course. I told them we can start it as soon as we finish Brisingr.

And that, that book, that long, long book, has been our bedtime read-aloud for so long now that it's beginning to feel as if it's been our only read-aloud since time began. Part of the problem is the reader (me). Getting glasses recently has helped, but it's not a complete remedy. I can't wrap my tongue around the Scandinavian-influenced words. Nothing flows gently off my tongue in this book. For the love of Vrenshrrgn, I need more vowels! Still, the first two books fairly flew by, and we began this one with so much enthusiasm. The writing is different, though. There is a lot of drawn out introspection provided for the reader, and a general wordiness that makes an already challenging task more thwarting than it ought to be. I've been tempted to ask the bigs to read it to themselves, with the offer to start Inheritance as a read-aloud if they'll just get through this one on their own. (One would - he loves fantasy, no matter how it's written. The other is putting up with it simply because he enjoys the time to sit together and unwind at the end of the day. He'd slip off and read another Thursday Next novel, if left to his own devices. And then Jacob would bring me the book, break out his Puss In Boots eyes, and I'd be stuck reading it aloud in the end, regardless.) So, we read. But I've already decided that if I run into the same trouble with the next book, I'm giving everyone and everything nicknames.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What Do We Do All Day?

There is no way our daily activities are what trash this house every. single. day. OK, the socks are ours. I'll own that. But the amount of dirt that finds its way onto the living room floor would normally require a contractor and a liability waiver. Maybe for my birthday I'll ask for a fleet of Roombas.

Z's replacing the soffits and fascia this week. That's a somewhat thankless job, from what I can tell. While it is good, and it needs doing, what will be most obvious when it's complete will be the old roof and the nasty hillbilly porch off the back. He gets serious bonus points for doing things just because they need to be done.

The kids did the first mowing of the season this week. Now that? That's a high-reward job. Fewer ticks, gorgeous view, low resistance job, and instant gratification. Love a freshly mown meadow.

I did... laundry. And swept. Mostly. There was other stuff, but it was about as exciting as that, really.

We did drive up to Tennessee to buy Z another Volvo. This last one had... fatal flaws. After several trips to George, the car whisperer, and three weeks in the shop, it was up and running, and then, in the middle of a normal morning commute, there was metal on metal noise. Even our laid back mechanically-inclined buddy shuddered when thinking about the noise. But the Volvos are a fave, and so off we went. Z seems happy. He can't wait to retrieve his beaded seat cover, and the a/c needs to be charged, but everything else is good. Plus, it doesn't leak in the rain. (He's a trooper, but it gets tiring driving to work with your feet in a puddle of water after every rainstorm. Maybe not such a deal breaker in the desert, but it'll wear on you, here.)

Oh! And our anniversary was last week. We thought about going to the drive-in theater, but decided it would be hard to hear the movie over the tornado sirens (not a euphemism for children - actual tornado sirens). So we opted for a night in with the family. Romantic, flashlights-at-the-ready dinner, nervous dog, anxious weather-following child. (Jacob. He discovered the weather news. And now he joins James in the general uproar over how seldom we go to the basement when the weather guy clearly states that's where we should be rightnow. I'm not sure how best to handle that. I don't want him to think we hold no regard for the weather warnings, because we do - that's why we have the radio on. But if there are no tornadoes on the radar and the winds aren't that strong, I'm just not convinced we need to hunker down with the damp and the basement critters until there are... uh, no tornadoes on the radar. I could be missing something. It happens. Sometimes more often than I'd like.) But all in all, it was actually pretty great. Z and I looked at each other, looked around at the kids, the house, the dog, then back to each other, and felt giddy.

"We're doing it! We're probably even getting good at this!"

w00t:

Thank God for grace and mercy. I've received it in spades.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It Is Time

James went to a party last night with friends. I have no idea how it went because I went to bed long before he got home. Z was up doing homework, and I'm out of things to watch on my own, so I read and got sleepy. I have my ringer volume set to Mind Numbingly Loud, so if there'd been an emergency he could have reached me. I'd have likely shown up looking like someone from an archived episode of Cops, but still, there. That's what counts, right? Pass the Okayest Mother of the Year Award this way, please.

This is not James getting home from his party. This is John, who was in charge of casting music while the Littles decorated the tree. Bonus points if you recognize the video.

We're nominally still doing school. In my head. Actually, right now, Jase is devouring the next in the Warriors (cat) books, and John is in the basement playing his favorite video game. (The basement is nearly finished - it's not as creepy as it sounds.) Everyone else is either sleeping in, or lying in bed praying I won't come poke them. And I haven't the umpf to poke them. Clearly, it's time for Christmas Break.

So today we'll wrap the rest of the presents. I will take notes as we wrap and make sure I haven't missed something important. I'm still waiting on a few packages, because I can't get my financial shizzle together in August and shop like a grown-up. Mahabis (that's James big gift this year) has awesome tracking info... until the package leaves the UK. After that, it all goes dark. I have no idea where his shoes are, if they're nearly here, or if they're now decorating the happy feet of a Somali pirate. And we'll clean a bit. Because that makes everything better.

James has to take his AP Physics final exam today. He won't let me make excited happy faces until that's over. (But I am totally making them in my head!)

Oh! We made liver pate yesterday. It's ostensibly "mellowing", or something, in the fridge, and we'll have it Christmas Eve. It tasted pretty good, although I don't know if it will taste good enough to overwhelm the visual... issues. (That is one unattractive dish!) But it was fun to do, we learned some new techniques, and so that was fun. I've got a package of Braunschweiger, just in case the pate is a no-go.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Be That Friend

Have I mentioned lately just what a blessing a good friend is?

Well, it is. So much so.

In this case, she is. And I am both humbled and appreciative in quantities I cannot express.

You see, I've been absolutely pummeled by Things lately. Not big things. Not bad things. Just things. What's the old saying, nibbled to death by ducks? It's migratory season and I am camped out at the watering hole, people. There are ducks everywhere.

And there are days that I suspect I'm the only one who can see them, which puts me pretty firmly in the Hunter S. Thompson category for a) crazy, and b) really unable to handle the situation.

So when I got paralyzed last week and decided that refinishing furniture was probably my number one priority, that was a big red flag for me. WHOA, Nellie! Why are we painting a nighstand in the basement? (Because it's something I can do. That helps. And has an end point. Unlike every flipping thing else going on in my life. Hand me the sandpaper and stop asking questions.)

And a dear friend asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

And my inner idiot said, in a very tiny voice, "No, I'm fine."

And a dear friend said, "Can I come over on a specific date to help with specific things?" (Which, really, is the better question to ask, because when people are stripping hardware in the basement instead of washing walls, they don't really know what kind of help they need. Or what they need, at all. True story.)

And I started to say, in what I intended to be a Big, Strong Brave Voice, "Nah, I've got it." But then I heard the punchline to my favorite joke...

I sent you two boats and a helicopter. What more help did you want?

And since the Holy Spirit seemed to realize that I need pedestrian humor to get me moving, I laughed. And then I said, in a Very Relieved Voice, "Yes, that would be lovely."

Then, she came. And I stood here, in my mess and clutter, with one sock on cockeyed, feeling very, very vulnerable while she did not freak out, grab the children and yell over her shoulder as she ran for the truck, "Who lives like this?!?!" (For which I am forever grateful.)

She made a check list. She pointed us in the right direction. Then (OH! THE GRATITUDE!) she worked with Em to box up all. her. art. All of it. Into bins. And Em didn't cry. She didn't feel stripped of her world. This friend did something that I could not have done with all the Moscow Mules in the world at my disposal: she made packing up fun for Em!

And she cracked the paralysis that had overcome me. I don't know which of the aspects I appreciate the most, but I'm going to do my part by saying, y'all, Be. That. Friend. Be willing to step up alongside your friends when they are stuck. Even if you don't know what they need, just go be present. Lob ideas. Laugh. Visit. Work if there's work to be done. Bring joy. Be encouraging. You have no idea what good it can do a soul! But they will, and it will matter.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

The Days Roll By

We probably ought to start a new project soon. It's been terribly quiet, here. Actually, the guys did build an HD antenna the other night. It's mounted on the wall (and needs some aesthetic support...) but now we get a few channels on TV. I celebrated last night by falling asleep watching My Name is Earl.

Scouts is a little wonky, at the moment. Everybody who is supposed to move up to a Boy Scout Troop has been holding off to see where the Den Leader and his son are going to go (so that they can all go elsewhere). The entire Den. In retaliation, he's refusing to declare until everybody else does. So, we have all these boys in limbo, who should be in Boy Scouts, but are, instead, stuck at the Pack meetings. *sigh* Last night, we broke the standoff and declared our Troop and made arrangements for James' crossing over ceremony. What we didn't do was mention that it's a one-year trial, and if this guy ends up being "the adult in charge" at any point, we are out of there. The leaders of the Troop know our stance. We'll see how that works out.

In the meantime, the Cub Pack is really growing and changing, now that this guy has released his hold on it. The Pack Master has grown into his new role so beautifully, and all the parents are stepping up to assist him and support him. I think the Little Guys are in for a Spectacular Year.
Smidge loves being a Tiger! I love the Tigers! Oh, my, they are adorable. And enthusiastic. And cute. And just oh-so-precious. And did I mention adorable? It really is like a big ol' litter of fuzzy little puppies, all tumbling about together. Except they don't bite your toes, or pee on your lap. And they're funny! So really, they're better than puppies. Plus, they grow up into fine young men, and that is encouraging, as well.

We've got a busy day ahead of us. The boys start guitar lessons today, I think. (I hope. It's one of those things that crept up on me.) Groceries and cleaning out the car and working a bit more in the basement. It doesn't sound like much, but it's all good stuff. A clean car feels fantastic. Food is always good. Always. And the basement is rather exciting because Zorak initiated this particular project, so I have hope it will stick! The boys have already made great use of their new work area, and they're loving the new "space".

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Another Productive Day

We got so much done today! Well, not a lot, domestically speaking. The kids mostly ran amok in and out of the sawdust, played billiards, and ate Chrismtas candy remnants. But on the project front, we did accomplish a bit. It's going to be horribly dull when Zorak goes back to work Wednesday. The kids and I just do normal "stuff" during the day - but when Zorak is home, it's all an adventure! I have thoroughly enjoyed this time with him.

Today he put two coats of stain on my new coat rack. I want to fondle it and touch it and whisper things to it, but it's a bad idea to manhandle the wet stain. Not to mention the whole fumes-while-pregnant issue. We won't even discuss the concerns surrounding Mommy talking to the furniture. So. I stand back and oooohhh and ahhhh, and inwardly stomp my feet like the impatient six-year-old I am. You know, deep down inside. :-) He got the stain on the rails of Claudia's toy bin, too. Different stain. Just as pretty. I didn't touch or talk to those, either. (I've been so good!)

I did, however, while feeling a bit guilty for sitting on the futon chair (again), reading (again), and doing absolutley nothing (erm, still...) decide I needed to clean up our old coffee table. This is the table James and John helped me make the top for, way back when I was pregnant with Smidge. We didn't want to strip it, but after two and a half years in storage, it needed something more than Murphy's. Zorak found a product today at Home Depot called "Restor-A-Finish" - wow! You can't use it with polyurethane, but since we don't polyurethane *anything*, we figured it would work well for us. It did! The table looks as good tonight as it did when we first refinished it. Ahhh, what a great feeling. (And how little work! LOVE that stuff!) Anyway, that little project turned out so beautifully that I've decided to tackle the big office desk chair and an old end table tomorrow. If we somehow manage to get enough sunlight into the basement, I'll get pictures of the progress.

We have only two days of vacation left. In that time, we've got to finish the small desk and haul it upstairs, pick up mattress bags and haul the guest room bed downstairs, hang the coat rack, finish Claudia's toy bin rack, make a new step stool for the bathroom (one that will fit beneath the sink and remove the toe-eating feature of the bath - not a big selling point, really) and... and I'm forgetting something. There's more on the list, but this is the stuff I need Zorak's help with (well, I *could*, technically, just let the boys maul the mattress down the basement stairs, but I have nightmares that they'll one day try to *ride* something down those stairs... those stairs that end at a cinder-block wall... it's worth it to ask for help from a grownup). We also want to get into town and visit Me-Wa and Me-Tae - we haven't seen them in almost a month, and we're all Jonesing for a visit.

Sometime between now and Wednesday, I want to review our lessons and goals for the Winter Term. We've only got January, February, and March before the baby arrives, and I'd like to be all caught up on our more structured academic work, poised with plenty of good literature on hand, and be able to spend our Spring on the back porch, enjoying the new dynamics and the daffodils. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Details and Tidbits

OK, this is the fun stuff. Kind of. Mostly just fun for us, but you get to watch. Think of it as our version of a vacation slideshow.

This is a close-up of one of the concrete piers. Zorak made the forms. The boys mixed the concrete (about three tons of gravel, two tons of sand, and a whole lot of portland cement - 3-2-1, scoop-and-mix!) Smidge did the tapping. Fun for the whole family! We like the octagonal shape - the corners aren't as likely to chip, and they look really cool when you stand back and take in the whole thing. We didn't use round forms because one day we plan to put in a rock knee wall beneath the balcony to create a sun-room off the basement. The wide, flat sides of this design give us a surface against which to build the wall. (They're the same width as concrete blocks.)

Here you see a regular, plain old ledger board bolted to the house (all the way through to the interior of the basement, not just into the bricks - we've seen pictures of how that goes, and it does not go well. So, nice and secure. Yay.) The beam leaning against the wall shows the jointing (made that word up - expect to hear it in construction circles next season - we're cool that way) for the balcony. Stay with me, it'll make sense in a minute.

Close-up of the notches for the beams, boards, and other woody stuffs. These serve to provide additional strength and support to reduce the risk of hard failure (screws shearing off, nails pulling out, and other nasty gravitationally instigated mishaps). Kinda looks like Lincoln Logs meets Jenga, doesn't it? Zorak had way too much fun with this, I can tell you that.

And this is how it all goes together. Zorak is hanging one part of the cantilever beam on the outside notch of the picture you just saw (another board goes on the inside, and then there is a board between the two, so the cantilever beam is three layers thick). You can see on the right hand side, at the corner of the house, where the first notched beam is now bolted to the ledger board, and how the ledger board sits inside the notch, on a ledge of its own. It's a sort of ledge-within-a-ledge schematic. All of the posts along the wall are secured to the concrete piers with base posts, to the house with anchor bolts, and to the ledger (which is also secured to the house). A tornado may take down the house, but this balcony and, the wall it's attatched to, will remain standing.

How do you move a 9' tall 6x6 beam 1/8" to plumb? You break out the Animaniacs tools! This is actually the sledge-o-matic for squashing aluminum cans, but we found it works great for making minute adjustments to the beams without marring the surface. We call it the tweak-o-matic, now. Again, look for this term to surface among all the cool DIY-ers this season.

It's Springtime, Y'all!

Why didn't anybody tell my 17-yo self that THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO LEARN!?! Well, someone probably did. So why didn't I listen? Nevermind. There's still a lot I don't know, but I think I've figure that one out, at least.

So, we're gardening the garden of the Ambitious, this year. Cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes, okra, okra, and okra. Kentucky pole beans and black turtle beans and sunflowers. Yellow squash, zucchini, watermelons, pumpkins, canteloupes and okra. Cayenne peppers, bell peppers, Blue lake green beans, tomatoes, and some okra. Honestly, we're just hoping to get some okra out of the deal.

And there's baseball. And school. And Scouts. And baseball. (EmBaby *hated* t-ball, so we are down to only two players, now. It feels so manageable!) And more gardening.

We're expanding the tea garden into medicinal plants.

The boys keep asking if I've blogged an update on each of them, yet, "with my pictures in it, Mom". But then they won't hold still long enough for me to get pictures to post. (I'm guessing they may not listen when we tell them how much there is still to learn, either.)

Did you know you have to have register with the State of Alabama to grow ginseng here? Not only to sell it (that's a more expensive license), or to harvest it (though they charge you less if you're collecting someone else's ginseng), but just to GROW it. Something that grows wild, without your help, anyway. Unbelievable.

We've got chicks. Yes, little birds. They're in the basement, with the Basement Frog, for now. This was our impetus to get the coop done. (Ya think?) The kids are ecstatic. I'm trying to find a way to develop a full-body second skin dip that will provide prophylactic support against salmonella, mites, and the willies.

EmBaby had her first major tricycle wreck, which also earned her her first shiner. It looked absolutely horrific for the first four days (she was fine, but we all went around cringing and moaning in empathy), and then this morning, *poof* it's nearly gone. And she's still on the tricycle every chance she gets. May she always be blessed with that kind of healing ability and fortitude. If I were more Irish, maybe I could come up with a catchy way to phrase that.

The figs are growing! Or, rather, one of the figs is growing. The other one seems to be holding very, very still, in the hope that neither Jason nor Sally will ever make contact with it again. We've built cages for all of the balcony plants (the two figs, and the three earth boxes), but I think we may have been too slow on the draw to do that one any good. The other one, though (the one that hasn't been uprooted and thrown off the balcony more than twice), is thriving and putting out vibrant, beautiful green shoots! So exciting!

And, there is baseball.

And gardening.

And the smell of sunshine and dirt on little heads.

It's Springtime in the South, y'all!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Blame it on Lent

Well, maybe not. I'm not sure how God is with the whole Striking With Lightning bit these days.

However, I did decide to stop vying for time *alone* in the evenings. Something had to give, but what? Reading time with the boys? No. We're not giving that up, and we can't really shorten it. (They keep adding to the stack, anyway. I'll be reading to them from my death bed if I shorten our nighttime reading.) Time spent tidying the kitchen? No, that one is a sanity-saver come sun up. Time with Zorak, alone, together, speaking in full sentences? Somehow, I don't think sacrificing that is the best thing in the world for a marriage. And I like Zorak. I want to keep him, always.

The only thing left was my late night foray to stay up and blog. It wasn't working, anyway. The Bigs' read-aloud time lasts longer than the Littles' does, so Zorak gets done first and beats me to the computer. (My grand plan to hook up the old computer in the basement fell tragically short because I can't get it to connect to the internet. I seem to have misplaced... the modem. Yeah, not sure how that happened.) Zorak and I are both night owls, so in order to get time alone and on the computer, I'd have to stay up until well past two in the morning. Even then, there was no guarantee. After falling asleep on the couch several nights in a row, waiting for the computer, I realized I was being silly. Very Silly, Indeed. *sigh* That's always embarrassing.

Lent just happened to be an excellent opportunity to quit being Silly. So far, I've been a'bed by eleven six nights out of seven. The extra rest helps. I'm more productive in the morning, able to spend time in study more often. I'm a much nicer mother before noon, too. But boy, does it make for a dull blog. And no photo editing time, either. I'm not sure why I feel pressure to include photos with blog entries, anyway. (Yet I do! Just a peek into my weirdness, I guess.)

So here's a quick recap of the last week or so:

~ We fed a stray. Turns out my Mother was right. They do stay if you do that.
~ Jase is LOUD. I mean, unbelievably LOUD. ALWAYS.
~ Baseball kicks off today. (*whimper*) It will be in the low-low 30's at practice tonight. One kid has practice, another, a meeting.
~ James is anxious (both excited-anxious and fretting-anxious) about taking golf lessons this Spring. No clue what's up with that.
~ The Pinewood Derby is this Saturday. The boys have done amazing things this year. It's not unusual to go to the basement and see a boy with a torch, melting weights, or a boy with a drill press, making holes. They may not win, but they will have learned a great deal, and had a lot of fun, and that is, for us, the point.
~ Netflix really needs to get Season 4 of Big Love on DVD. Seriously. This is important.
~ EmBaby knows where to find, and how to use, the shut-off valve on the toilet! I don't think I've ever been so proud of the sense and composure of a four-year-old in my life.
~ We've had company every Saturday for the last month. As of Monday, the boys have officially petitioned that we re-define "Company Clean". They say this pace is killing them, and that someone will figure out The Truth, eventually, so why not just use that to help weed out the weak ones. (Yes, I'm both proud and horrified at the same time. Parenthood will do that.)

And, I think that's it.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Too Tired To Blog

It's almost two o'clock. We've just emerged from the basement. The stairwell is ready for us to move the steps tomorrow. (Currently, you walk down the steps, turn toward the back wall, and descend the last four steps facing the Scary Room. To get to the rest of the basement, you've got to wander back under the stairwell and around. We're guessing this stroke of inspiration happened about the same time he - whoever did the work - realized the third support column in the Scary Room wasn't gonna hit the joists, either.)

Six boxes completely emptied. Two big black trash bags filled, and two large boxes of trash. Two donation boxes filled. We started to get cocky in our decluttering, and wouldn't you know it, the next box we opened was just full of stuff we don't want, but is either collectable, or valuable, or simply in too nice a condition to throw out. *sigh* The entire box... (Anybody want a mechanical cooking pig?)

We did find several boxes of the boys' things. They've been set in the middle of the boys' room, as a surprise for tomorrow. Who says Christmas comes but once a year, right?

More brainstorming on the waterproofing and culvert plans.

We need rain barrels. Definitely need rain barrels.

The dog seems to be back to his excitable, yet not-horribly-intuitive self. I think I liked him better when he stayed in one place. He kept stealing stuffed toys from the boxes and running off to dismantle them. Not helpful. Or cute.

Thus rounds out the less glamorous *snort* side of home repair. Still, good stuff. At least there are no crickets this year!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy
(Drat. Zorak just informed he that he did see one cricket. So I'll modify that, "At least I haven't had to deal with crickets this year! WOOHOO!")

Recovery Day

Today was supposed to be the day we recovered from the trip. It turned into the day we recovered from the day itself.

Naturally, we all slept in far later than is healthy, and so our day began part way through from the start. The temperature was perfect for playing, pretending, and running... ah, running. Which leads to tumbling, it would seem.

James was playing on the swingset. John was on the front porch, working on a boat. Zorak busily foraging for something in the basement that might like to be a mast. I'd stretched out on the couch after lunch to see how long it would take the boys to find me and decide I looked way too lonely. The plan was that we'd snuggle up and watch a movie or read a story. Plans don't always pan out, though...

John came running around the corner into the basement, followed by a wail from Smidge that sent Zorak running. He cleared the corner, saw one shoe at the top of the hill and scanned the hill quickly for the child that should have been in it. There was Smidge, sprawled catawampus on the concrete at the bottom of the slope. He scooped him up and brought him inside. We both figured a few minutes with the boo-boo bunny and some snuggles would do the trick. Then we saw the blood. It was cascading down his back, his neck, his shoulders. Oy. Off to the tub to see if we could find the source, when...

James begins screaming and comes flying into the foyer, bleeding ferociously from the mouth. Zorak couldn't get him to calm down enough to find out if there was something IN his mouth, missing FROM his mouth, or even if it had anything to do with his mouth.

Meanwhile, back in the bathroom, the source of the blood turned out to be a one-inch gash on the top of Smidge's head. Too big for me to feel comfortable gluing. I know head wounds (much like mouth wounds) bleed rapidly and tend to look far, far worse than they are, but I could see bone and the kid has a lot of hair. I redressed him and handed him to Zorak to load into the car while I tried to get James calmed down.

James had gouged his cheek and lip in the corner. OK, crushed ice in a washcloth, leave it on until you can let Dad look at it, I love you, rinse with warm salt water if you can. *smooch* *hug* Off to the hospital with Smidge. Somehow, I didn't get the details, but Zorak briefed me, James flew from the swing, coming down on his knee. So the cheek seems to have been caught between teeth and bone. (OW.)

John went with us for moral support, since he'd had stitches in the very same hospital. Miss Em stayed with Zorak and James. The whole tag team thing is a real blessing at times like this!

Smidge was sweet, gentle, and patient. He told the ER staff his story with a quiet shyness (I rolled down the hill... My hill... At my house.) followed by a small, quirky little smiled that seemed to say, "Yes, yes, I know." The doctor felt that stitches were probably better, but that he could get the glue to do the trick. I overheard him telling the nurse (who had questioned his decision not to use stitches) that it would be a lot less traumatic and, in this case, that was worth it. They got him glued up without any trauma for any of us. What worried the doctor more than the gash was the 3" black and raspberry colored knob protruding from Smidge's forehead. He ordered x-rays to check for fractures. In came the nice x-ray tech, who led us to the room. Smidge smiled for the "pictures". The techs let John press the buttons. They showed the boys the x-rays. I'm not saying this is the best way to get behind-the-scenes a tour at the hospital, but it sure was nice of them to be so involved.

We made it home to find we had *cringe* company... and the house hadn't been cleaned or tidied since Wednesday. Zorak didn't have a heads up that they were coming (how embarrassing). They fixed our printer, and then stayed to make sure Smidgelet was okay. He was sleeping soundly, though, when we arrived, but awoke a bit later. James' mouth looks fine, except for a little purple, lumpy bit in the corner. He said he diluted his mouth wash "to a 50% solution" so it wouldn't hurt, but it did still hurt a little. He took it all in stride. Our company was gracious, and concerned about the little guys. We have just exhaled very slowly after the dust settled.

Smidge is sleeping peacefully now, and he's going to be sore tomorrow. But fine. These are the bumps and bruises life brings sometimes. In all, not too bad. But I think we'll stay home and make good on that snuggle and story time.

(*edited for clarity*)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Kids Must Think We Hate Them

Here's what the day looked like, from their perspective:

Hey, kids! It's Saturday and Mom and Dad are unconscious! How long can you go without eating actual food?

And then, once they'd been fed and dressed;

You know what, kids? It's over 100 degrees today! Let's go from hot, un-air-conditioned antique shop to hot, un-air-conditioned antique shop... for hours!

Not that things looked any more promising at home...

The monster in the basement has taken Daddy! You won't see him today! That swearing and crying? No, no, he'll be fine... just fine...

We returned from the shopping trip without a dresser for Miss Emily, who is going to think we don't like her if, when she's old enough to remember this, she is still getting her clothes out of the boxes they were shipped in.

Well, now that you are thoroughly sweaty and probably dehydrated, why don't you go play in the dirt for a bit before supper? Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn't it? Hup, hup, it's not getting any cooler out there!

You can wash your hands when you get --- Oh, no, strike that! We don't have any water. Ha ha. Silly children! No crying, now, go play while Mommy prepares something unidentifiable for supper.

**later, at supper**

Yes, it's cold. It's a salady... thing. Isn't it lovely to eat a cold supper on a hot, hot day? What do you care what's in it? It has protein. And it's probably good for you. No, we still don't have any water. Yes, that is something we take for granted, isn't it? No, you can't drink from the toilet. That's for company and emergencies, Honey.

Zorak and I were up late Friday night, working on the house. We're getting old and have developed a partial paralysis that kicks in shortly after the sun comes up. It's exacerbated by late night exertion. The kids held out pretty well on the food. I do believe they grazed from the counter, although there wasn't anything edible left out on the counter...

I did give them the pre-emptory antique-shop warning before venturing forth on the shopping trip. They did phenomenally well, actually, and received goodies, hugs, and plenty of compliments from all the shop owners. Well, all but that one that hates children, no matter how well behaved and polite they are. I think the boys decided the shops were worth it just to sit in the air-conditioned Suburban between stops.

While I ran the boys through the gauntlet, Zorak moved the water heater. He re-configured the pipes, and made a new manifold (the plastic PEX manifolds we purchased in December have not held up well to the ever-changing ecosystem of the basement, and for some reason unknown to all but the corporate moles who've bought stock in the company in order to force a hostile takeover in the future, Zurn refuses to make their brass manifolds available for purchase - so, fine, we'll just make some, then! Thhhbbttttt!!!)

This probably wouldn't have been much of an inconvenience (relatively speaking - he had it worse than we did, I'm sure) if he'd started before noon. But when you don't start major reconfiguring until noon, then there is no water for... drinking, cooking, bathing, merely washing your hands... until, oh, around midnight. And that can be a little rough when you have children, and it's in the triple digits both inside and outside the house.

Miss Emily probably had it the hardest. She was hot and miserable all day. And, being miserable, she relied heavily on her instinct that tells her being held will make her feel better. We call that *painful irony*. Sometimes instinct misses the mark by a hair or two, doesn't it?

So it was a long day for everyone involved. But, in the end, we are that much closer to having a/c, the children did comment on how much we take for granted (like cold water, specifically), how much they appreciate all we have (again with the cold water), nobody got lost... or ran off. We'll have a nice, long drive in the cool air of the vehicle tomorrow. After everyone's been bathed and fed, of course.

;-)

Some days it's all you can do to say, "Yay, it's over! We made it!" this was one of those days. I think I'll go whisper positive things in the children's ears before I head to bed.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

House Stuff

OK, I'm mildly wired. One more post, and then I'll go to bed. :-)

Today (drum roll, please) Zorak removed the behemoth wood burning stove from the living room. Can you hear the angels singing? Well, they are. And it's beautiful. I gutted the bookshelves in the kitchen and we put those shelves in the living room - then we brought up another bookshelf from the basement to do kitchen duty 'til we get the Swiss Army Cabinet, and from there, we were able to make it a Real Living Room. You know, like Pinocchio became a Real Boy, only this wasn't such a pain in the butt. It gave the living space a much less, mmm, industrial feel, which is nice. What was really interesting was the added space. There is an unpainted spot on the floor where the stove stood -- the bookshelves and TV all fit behind that spot, between that spot and the wall, so we now have an extraordinary amount of extra living room space. And a bare spot on the floor. We're still putting in an addition, but in the meantime*, this is much better.

For a while, we had a great redneck skylight where the stove pipe had gone through the roof, but I couldn't convince Zorak to just slap a little plexiglass on it and leave it like that. He thought that would be too weird, even for us. Maybe he was right. (But just maybe.)

The kitchen now looks like it's been raided by the mafia in search of drugs or evidence for blackmail. It's going to take a while to get everything stuffed into that one lone bookshelf. But Zorak did hang my spice rack, so now I can dig out my jars, wash them, refill them, and then -- tada! -- we'll have, well, we'll have spices hanging from the wall. (That sounded much more exciting in my head...)

Lesson plans for the week are done, more books have been brought up from the basement, and things are looking pretty good. Good stuff.

The boys stayed up late tonight. I was all set to play the heavy with them for the way they were bunched up at the ends of their beds when they pointed out that they were watching fireflies. Ohhh, pretty! So I climbed up on the dresser with them and we watched the fireflies dancing on the lawn. It was like Nature's mini-firework show! How glad am I that I didn't go in with both barrels blazing and miss out on an opportunity to sit with them in the dark and enjoy the magic of summer? Very, very glad.

Anyhow, have a splendid week, and as always,
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

* "meantime" - indicates a short-term plan, but generally means a prolonged period of intended activity, followed by an extended planning period, to be finished with an indefinite "review" period. So, if it's going to be for the meantime, might as well get comfy, right?