My old friend Alex came into town today. I used to babysit for him in my teens, and I haven’t seen him decades. I am so, so happy to see him doing so well.
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Tending to her flock
This is really not what I pictured when I thought about getting chickens.
This morning I found Neko loading the chickens into Ellery’s Calico Critters house. My first impulse was to rescue the girls from the hands of an eager seven-year-old. But then I noticed they were all snoozing away in their cozy beds.
I’m not sure how they’re going to take to the coop after this. I imagine it might be like moving from the Four Seasons to the Holiday Inn.
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A snail tale
We went to a picnic yesterday at a friend’s house. Besides an incredibly fun zip line (yes, we’re looking into one…wheee!), Neko found this big snail. She carried around with her the whole night, and Kate C. was kind enough to let us take it home.
It will be returning to its nature home shortly, but in the meantime, it is much beloved.
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Do you hear Bob Marley singing?
As I was flipping through some old entries the other day, it occurred to me that this blog was becoming one of those blogs I used to loathe because it’s all happy and sunny and I never talk about anything going wrong.
Which, good golly, couldn’t be any further from the truth. We’re still having tantrums and morning marathons attempting to get to school on time. And, the laundry—oy! It will just never be all the way done. The dogs won’t stop barking and the chicks won’t stop pooping. The roof still leaks when it rains too hard, and no one can tell us why. And then there’s the incessant beeping from the construction vehicles that are building a school in our back yard.
But, for some reason, it’s just not bugging me as much lately.
Maybe it’s the sunshine and all the new that is peeking out after a long winter. Maybe I’ve reached my limit (albeit likely temporary) of how much I can fret over things I can do nothing about. Or maybe I’ve realized I do have power to affect change, and I’m less afraid to use it. Maybe I’ve taken the time to peek forward at what life is like with children the next bit older, and I’ve realized that these are, in fact, the simple years, so I’d better enjoy them.
Whatever it is, I just have this feeling that things are going to sort themselves out. Or maybe they are sorted out. I’m beginning to think the kitchen is clean enough. That B+ effort on most things is still above average, but is far better for my health than A+. That incremental changes still count, even if I didn’t make it all the way to the finish line.
Here I sit, in a quiet house. After dinner, my kids biked and walked through the fields and played
with chickens in glorious weather. The sun has gone down, and they’re all tucked into their beds. My amazing husband who puts up with all my weird stuff is rocking out in the shop. (See the lights on above?) Most of our immediate family is just a stone’s throw away, just in case we need them—an anomaly in this day and age. We are surrounded by amazing friends. Although there is a massive pile of laundry by the dryer, I have the ability to close a door between it and me.I’m not religious in the traditional sense, but I am spiritual. And the best way I can think to describe things is that I am blessed. So very blessed.
Because every little thing? It’s gonna be alright.
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Wait, I DO love our town!
There are times when I doubt our decision to live here. As I stood amidst the skyscrapers in Chicago, watching Neko beg to try public transit as we tried to make a choice between our many museum options, I was having a few doubts. Are they too far from art and culture? Should they feel the pulse of a big city? Goodness knows this town could use some more diversity, both culturally and in terms of ideas. There are times where we feel like we don’t quite fit in.
Tom left for Chicago with Shep yesterday, so I was on my own with the girls. As I picked Neko up from her art class, we spotted our friend Jacob, hopping aboard a double-decker bicycle. We flagged him down, and discovered he was headed to the Kinetic Sculpture Race, the first to happen in our town.
Now, I should say, folks in town (myself included) were a bit befuddled as to what this was. (A quick Google search reveals they happen all over the place, and I can see the amazing possibilities.) So there were less than ten entries. But as I watched all these folks make their way down the road, I thought, “Now here are our people!” If they do it next year, I’m sure Tom will be tinkering for weeks on an entry.
(I should mention that last photo is a mobile cornhole game. The guy in front has a cornhole board attached to the top of his bike and the guy behind him is catapulting beanbags at it.)
After the race, we walked down to a breakfast place that our friends own. We got to chat for a bit before our table was ready. When I had to take the girls to the bathroom, I only had to look one table over and ask our painter and his son to watch our table for us.
By the end of the day, we tossed in a trip to the library and a two-hour skating show (featuring Neko’s friends Celeste and Mercy).
I fell into bed that night, exhausted from our day full of rich experiences. And fantastic people. All right here in our back yard. A good reminder that there are good people and great ideas just about anywhere—you just have to find them.
(Special thanks to Neko for having her camera with her…thank goodness!)
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Shep turns five
Shep, if I could freeze you at this age, I would definitely ponder it.
You are in the sweetest of spaces. Most everything delights you. You’re considerate of others, and beginning to notice the injustices of the world. A week ago you came up with a list of the people you would like at your birthday party. Other than family, it simply included three girls from preschool. When I asked you why, you said, “Everyone makes fun of these three girls, so they are they only ones I want to come.” Oy, my heart.
I’m beginning to see the inklings of rougher waters, but in between, you are one good kid.
Tom bought most of your presents this year. I’m beginning to suspect I had no genetic contribution, as you and your father are peas in a pod. Every present he bought was spot-on. I’ll have more photos of these things later, since now you’re on the road.
Why, you ask? Because on Monday you announced Tom was taking you to Chicago on your birthday.
We thought we could get away with a few inequities between siblings for one more year, but it seems we were wrong. Justice prevailed, and after preschool, Tom picked you up and you hit the road. You were having a fantastic time last I heard.
So here I sit, on the evening of your birthday, and you’re out on the town. I didn’t think that would happen so soon, being left behind on your big day. But it’s inevitable, so I suppose it’s good to get broken in early. It makes me smile to think of you, bouncing around the hotel room, in the middle of a big city, barely containing your excitement and happiness. A mother can’t ask for much more than that.
Happy birthday.
