Close Call

So I was returning a movie to the video store, and there in the parking lot was a gorgeous, ginormous brown and polka dotted beetle. I had to share, of course, but what could I bring him home in? In the trash outside the store there was a candy box, so I scootched him in and brought him into the van. The Boy held the box closed till we got home, then taped the end down while we began the nightly rituals. Before Simon went to bed I wanted him to behold the glory, so I got the box out and realized the window on the side of the box didn't have plastic in it. The entire time we were holding the end of the box down, the glorious, ginormous beetle could have traipsed right out the side. As much as I enjoy bugs, I'm glad he didn't.

Will post a picture tomorrow when it's light enough to take one,
ephelba

Just when you're ready to quit.

The Boy is 13. Sometimes, now that I've been telling him the same thing for all of those years, I get discouraged and begin to think nothing is getting through. And then the Boy tells me that when he was on vacation and was invited to kayak, he used every tool I taught him. He took a deep breath, and he gave it another try, and so on and so on- he said the most useful tool was the one where you just do a thing. And when it was all over, he had such a good time he wants to do it again.

I guess I am having an effect after all.

Just keep swimming,
ephelba

The Vacation

Well hello there!

Hi! How are you? We're doing pretty good. Enjoying the new house. Missing Boy, who is off visiting friends. This morning he called, and the Bean got on the phone with him and was just so pleased to recognize the voice on the phone. I don't think that had happened before. She lit up and said "aHA! Bubba! Hello!", which was altogether too precious.

The little one is crawling. As in, eventually making forward progress on her hands and knees, not as in, zipping across the floor getting into everything that is dangerous or gross. I figure I've got a week or two before that happens.

The house is full of flies. I was sitting in the yard with the girls thinking "Wow. Would you look at all those flies!" The flies were flying into my house thinking "Wow, Would you look at that wide open door." There are so many I'm going to have to open it again and let them out.

On that note, why is it that whatever window I am near has three flies in it. Are they the same three, following me, or is it some strange kind of fly equilibrium?

I've been trying and trying to find funny things for us to watch of an evening. It's surprisingly hard, but I found another winner. The first was Extras. The latest is The Office. As we're watching the manager behave like a complete and total twat, Simon looks at me and says "This you can watch?" The difference is I sorta like the characters in the Extras, so it hurts to watch them blunder, whereas I have no love for the Manager at all. Nope. None. It's refreshing.

The inlaws are bringing Boy back to us from MI, then we're all going to go stay at a "Cabin" on the lake. That's "Cabin" as in "Nicer house than we live in", I expect. My kind of vacation. I find no joy in leaving the life I lead to go sleep in uncomfortable quarters and make do without creature comforts like, oh, running water or electricity or a stove. "Whee! Pooping in the woods!" How is that fun? No, going to stay in a space with more amenities than I usually have is where it's at. "Whee! Dishwasher!" See? That works.

Last night the girls or I were up every hour. Yeah. So this morning I was good for nothing. Of course, come noon we all slept for three hours straight. So. I suppose it's time to be getting on with things.

Look for me in a week or two,
ephelba