In Which We Break Out

I would so prefer outdoor stuff to the indoor grind. This past week I convinced the boys that they would probably rather clean the house than mow the lawn. So we switched. I trundled happily after the mower for about an hour. It was loud, blocked out all noise, and I just thought stuff to myself for the whole time. Well, every time I emptied the clippings bag, I could hear that the people inside the house were alive. There were some loud “discussions” about the proper way to clean a bathroom, and no, Gregory did not nail it quite. But I pulled weeds on the walkway and out beside the picket fence and just let them work it out. Then I put away all the garden tools and a bunch of stakes that had a brief life as spears in a throwing contest. When the lawn was all nice and neat, I checked up on their work and was thrilled to see that all the biggest messes were cleaned up, floors cleaned (after a fashion…. seeing as Greg used hand soap out of the dispenser to wash them) etc. etc.

I called everybody outside just to enjoy the gorgeous afternoon. Since school started two weeks ago, it has been noses to the textbooks, labored cursive, practice with forgotten math facts, and a few other not so fun things. Then the afternoons we tried hard to catch up with our regular chores. It made me cross and bothered. Ask Gabe. 🙂 I felt like Jack, the dull boy. And I know that I resembled the mother cat in Milo and Otis, who keeps resolving never to yell at her childr… “Milo! Get back here right now!” Why does that part in the movie always make my children snicker?

Anyway, on this particular afternoon, I was trying to think of something off-the-wall that we could do all together, since Gabe was working that night. The little guys were all climbing around in their favorite Monkey Tree, fashioning make shift platform houses. It was approaching supper time and I had no idea what to feed the crew when I had a happy thought. “Hey, how would you guys like to eat supper in the Monkey Tree?” Oh, yeah, just like that I had my cool-mom status back. 🙂 I am a little embarrassed to admit that “supper” was Cocoa Pebbles served with milk in mugs. Like Alex observed, “At least they are made with real cocoa.” Wanna see?

I thought it was funny that we only had one spill in the tree, and who knows how many we would have had at the table, sitting properly with bowls?

We also had watermelon for dessert. I dared to pick the one in the garden. It was luscious. Just ask Addy.

I Can’t Keep Up!

But that is okay, as long as I sort of keep up, you know… like make sure my people are fed and clean and have fat souls. It’s the date that gives me trouble. Tonight we were writing letters to prison inmates, a ministry our church tries to help with about once a month. I dated my first letter August 19, which I discovered was just a few days wrong.

August 19 was actually the day we started back to school in this household. Just like that, the days are chock-full, the summer “over” in the sense of carefree, go-swimming-any-old-time, sleep-late-if-you-wish, etc. I am actually grateful for the more disciplined schedule. With Gabe’s work schedule being all over the place, days and nights all mixed up from week to week, it felt like we were all just flying by the seat of our collective pants this summer. I can handle that for a while, but I like it better to have some firmly established routines. Nothing like school to sober us all up at bedtime and getting up time.

We always do a party when we start back up in the fall, but this past Monday found me totally unprepared, so I told the children we will shoot for more of a Grand Opening party, like stores do when they have the kinks worked out of a new system. The DVDs are working all right for the boys. I like to hear them doing math drills while I am teaching Olivia. I have never met a homeschool mom who loved doing math drills. It is a bit of a problem when you don’t have the competition of a class to force you into being speedy. Gregory was in tears the first morning because he couldn’t keep up with his class. I still spend the entire morning with the students, monitoring, checking, fielding questions, teaching Livvy, keeping the little girls busy, etc. I won’t be twiddling my thumbs anytime soon! And when I do, I will know what else I could be doing.

Last week was crammed, the chief event a delightful campout at a nearby park with my brother and his family. It was so relaxing, after all the frantic packing lists and hauling of ice chests and setting up campsites, to sit and watch a fire and let the kids get thoroughly acquainted with the local variety of dirt.

Nate and Becca. I made them lean in like teenagers do, but you can see, they aren’t quite young enough to pull it off.

“I can do it myself!” Addy’s favorite phrase these days. Here Gabe is rescuing her from her independent efforts to swim.

Funny title to read when camping, huh? They couldn’t all see, so I was interrupted about seventeen times as they shifted heads and bodies and craned necks, complaining.

Cousins, making a book of baby animals. These two stuck together like cheese and crackers.

Gabe and I attempted a selfie. Something we are, apparently, also a little too old to do well. At least, I don’t think it is particularly flattering. But I like the hilarity of the picture, as it captures the general air of relaxation and togetherness of those camping days.

I did laundry for two days, solid, when we got home again. On Friday I turned 1/2 bushel of tomatoes into sauce and the next day I froze 23 quarts of corn, then the next day I took the children to church without Gabe because he had to work. That afternoon I spent hours catching up with a little girl I used to babysit. Only now she is all grown up and going into nursing school. (Somebody pinch me.) Which brought me to Monday morning, school starting and no party. The children were very understanding. We hope to do our Grand Opening on Friday. Because this… this choice to do school at home is a bit engrossing. Everything changes for 9 months. I think we deserve a party.

A Quiver Full…

Once upon a time, about 2 years ago, a Lady saw a sign, “Free Kittens”. She was looking to replace a very special cat that her husband had rescued, crying, from the ditch beside the road. The special cat had, inexplicably, never gotten a better name than Cat.

Maybe because she was so grateful for her rescue, Cat had never scratched or clawed, no matter how much she was pulled and pushed and cradled by the inexpert love and care of a tot who stepped on her tail and a two year old who pawed more than petted. She had also, surprisingly, never produced kittens. She was a perfect cat. But she was gone, completely disappeared.

The lady stopped to check out the free kittens. They were nondescript, grey tabbies, just like Cat. It was a good sign, she thought. She took two little kittens home for her two little girls. One grew to adolescence and disappeared, just like Cat. The other one, the new resident Cat,was a little aloof and entitled. She didn’t like Meow Mix, only Special Kitty. With time she birthed a fine litter. In the family mini van. Everyone was a little surprised about that. The kittens were not too bright, apparently, for they self destructed on the road, all but one who went to live on a farm.

Pregnancy number two produced two girls, White Nose and Callie, and two boys, Atlas and Claude. Not in the van, but under the porch. The cousins from North Carolina took a shine to Claude and he moved to the mountains where he continues a sleek and happy existence.

Cat 2 was a very good mother. Her kittens thrived, although none of them had the happy disposition of the Cat they replaced. Nevertheless, they were petted and loved and they certainly kept both the mouse and the garter snake population down. Cat 2 got pregnant again, but those kittens were never found. Then Cat 2 got pregnant for the 4th time. She was quite faithful in that way.

The Lady’s husband looked at her and said, “This. Is too much.” She had a surprise for him. You see, Atlas had grown up and turned out to be a girl too, and Atlas was also expecting. Four ravenous cats go through a good deal of Special Kitty. And there were going to be more mouths to feed very soon.

“We will give away free kittens,” she said to her husband.

Cat 2 was the first… one kitten. Very prudent and sensible. She kept her baby out of trouble, under the front porch. Then one day the little girl on the swing jumped off and came flying into the house, “Mama, Mama, Mama! Atlas just laid a kitty under the slide! I just saw this bubble thing and then all of a sudden, there was a kitty!” Over the course of the next few hours, there was another kitty and another and another and another and another and another. Seven babies under the slide on the wood chips! The little girl felt sorry for their inhospitable surroundings and made them a bed of peony petals. She fed Atlas milk and lay there under the slide to watch the babies knead and paw their mother as they nursed.

The Lady started drafting a Free Kittens sign in her head, as attractive as she could make it, seeking to replicate the one that drew her down that farm lane a few years ago.

Because, you see, the thing is, White Nose and Callie are also about to pop.

Free Kittens.