These days

The Bean is always squealing. Either she's running through an empty house and enjoying the echo, or she's bewailing our state of non-stop transition. She's actually been having a lot of fun. Hiding in closets, exploring our new yard, getting into EVERY BOX TWICE - once in this house, once in the new house.

The Bug is frequently dismayed. She is 7 months old and doing what 7 month olds do, namely, crying every time she sees me leave the room, edge toward the room's exit, or think about that one time I was in another room by myself.

The Boy is very helpful. He is 13, did you know? That means he can go up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs and not get as tired as we do going up and down once.

Lucy the Dog is delighted to discover our new neighbors have cats. She's not so fond of other dogs with their nosing of her nethers and their friendly attempts at playing. She prefers felines, which she expects to befriend her, cuddle up with her and clean her ears. I doubt the new cats know what she has in mind, despite her attempts to explain.

Simon and I are hot, sticky and tired. Sometimes we switch it up and become tired, sticky and hot.

Today Simon and Boy got their asses soundly whupped by me and my fun noodle*. They will tell you otherwise. Do not believe them.

Just now I must go empty the local ice cream parlor of a family's worth of kiddie cones,
ephelba

*You know, the swimmy things....