Pieces of Fall in My Living Room

Today is the first day of Fall, so I had the kids collect some of the elements of the season to bring in and display indoors.

Apparently our trees don't know it's supposed to be Fall.

And it's 80˚ outside today.

Maybe we'll try again next week...

Home Tour - Part 1

When we moved into this house in June, I had every intention of doing a photo tour...

just as soon as I had every room set up the way I want it.

Now that September is almost gone, I have accepted that

the room-set-up-thing's not going to happen any time soon.

So here's a partial tour of our new house as it looks right now, and maybe someday (if and when things ever get arranged like we want them) I'll do another "official" tour.

To the right of the front door:

The Living Room

(looking left from the front door)

The Dining Room:

The Kitchen:

(to be continued...)

Firewood

Yesterday we had firewood delivered to our house,

and all four of the kids worked together and turned this:

into this:

I'm telling you, these kids are handy to have around!

I Like Cats

I like cats.

I like taking pictures.

So I took some pictures of our new cats.

And, since this is MY blog, I can post those pictures of our new cats if I want to...

and then YOU can decide if you want to look at them or not.

Everyone's happy this way!

Maria

(She's the only girl, and my youngest daughter picked her name. I've been singing "How do you solve a problem like Maria..." - from The Sound of Music - for days now.)

Tommy

(I know, a tomcat named Tommy doesn't sound very original, but my middle daughter named him Tommy in all innocence because she likes the name. I'm not going to enlighten her.)

Billy

(I have no idea why my oldest daughter picked the name Billy.)

Grocery List

We've got family here this weekend, so I went into town yesterday morning before they came to get supplies to make homemade ice cream.

On my grocery list:

milk

cream

eggs

kittens?!?

cat food?!?

Hey, it was MY list!

8-24-2011 = 15!

Yesterday was our 15th anniversary!

There were candles, music, a romantic dinner and flowers...just not at our house, and not for us!

We opted for time shared in the bright sunshine instead of candles. I helped my husband work on the roof of the pump house while tools, kids and a dog provided the "music". When we called it a day, he helped me with dinner (which was yummy, and fed all six of us), and dandelions in the yard filled the flower requirement.

That's my idea of romantic!

*Editor's note: Deeper thoughts on marriage coming soon...when I'm not so busy spending time with my husband!) :)

Robert

We lived in the Peruvian jungle when I was little, where houses were built with screen windows and tin roofs. In one of the houses we lived in for a while, my bedroom was in the attic, and it was not an uncommon thing to be awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of wings fluttering in the darkness as a bat flew around my room. It was more irritating than frightening, and the remedy was simple. I just laid still in my bed and shouted:

"Daaaaaaddyyyyyy, there's a bat in my room!"

Soon, the light would come on, and up the stairs would come my daddy, armed with a tennis racket. I would pull the sheet over my head, and Dad and his tennis racket took care of the bat. (I watched him chase bats the first few times it happened, but when one landed on my bed after meeting the racket, I quit watching and just waited under the sheet from then on.)

Yesterday afternoon, my son was absolutely convinced that there was a bird in our house. We looked everywhere, and when we didn't find a bird, or any evidence of one, I convinced him that because of the way the light was shining through the window, every time a bird flew by outside, the shadow went across the wall inside. And then a bird flew by and showed him what I meant. So he agreed that that was probably what he saw, I told them the story of Grandpa chasing bats in my bedroom, and we went on with our day.

And then, when I went upstairs to go to bed, I heard a little scratching noise from up high by our open attic/loft. Thinking that maybe my son really HAD seen a bird, I turned on the light, and then stood and watched a bat crawl around on the wall by the ceiling.

Of course I did what any sensible, grown-up girl would do.

I called my Daddy.

"Daaaaaddyyyyy! There's a bat in my room!"

And like any sensible Daddy who is two hours away (and not currently feeling up to doing any bat-chasing anyway), he asked me if I had a tennis racket.

I have a racket. I also have a large plastic container with air holes punched in the lid for catching and examining creatures we'd rather not hold (like bees, tiny lizards, and bats). Armed with both, with my two oldest daughters close behind me, I approached the bat in my bedroom. It flew toward me, and I swung the racket. It dodged. My daughters shrieked with laughter and ran out of the room to report to their younger sister, who was hiding quite sensibly under a blanket in the hallway. The process was repeated. And repeated. And repeated. Until I accidentally dropped the racket.

At which point I just threw the container at the bat. The bat dodged, and my girls laughed even harder. The bat flew up into the loft, and refused to come back down. So I dragged over the ladder and climbed up after it, racket first.

I couldn't find it. I looked all over the lighted part, and saw no sign of it. I was thinking about crossing over into the unlit side of the attic in search of it when I turned my head and saw it clinging to the side of the beam at the roof line.

It didn't seem fair to smash it with the racket, so I opened up the plastic container and held the lid ready. It took me a few minutes to cross those few feet between us. I didn't want to spook it, and I like to think that it was lulled into stillness by my repetitive muttering. "It's only a bat. It's only a bat. It's only a bat. When I get close it's going to fly into my face. No, it's only a bat. It's only a bat."

And then it was in the container, and the lid was on. I climbed down out of the loft and we took the bat where the light was better so we could examine it. The girls exclaimed over its little tiny teeth and claws, how its ears moved as it listened, and how funny it looked when it tried to crawl, like it was wearing a dress that was too big. And then my animal lovers decided that instead of saving it until morning to show their brother what his "bird" really was and risk letting it suffocate, we should let it go.

So we did. Outside, of course, where it belongs.

After the girls had named it Robert.