bad kitty

Next door to me live Bob and Morris. I've mentioned them once before, commenting on their co-hunting techniques.  In 2010 I said they were eight years old, so we'll go ahead and assume they're 13 now. Teens! Perhaps I can blame teenage brain syndrome on Bob's behavior then. 

Bob,on left with white belly; Morris, on right, fully orange.

One morning several weeks ago I exited the house, into the garage, and startled Bob, who had apparently spent the night inside it. He dashed away to his own home very quickly.

He did it again a few days later. And then again. And then one Monday morning when I stepped out to go to work, I heard a meow but didn't see a kitty source. I listened carefully and then gingerly opened the workroom door.  Out came an orange blur which ran straight into my neighbor's house.

I agonized over this. The best that I can remember, no one had opened the door to the workroom since the previous Wednesday. Five days? Including a full weekend when we were home but never heard him calling?  Possible, but I hoped not.

Soon after, I spoke to my neighbor and told her about his escapade.  She looked wide eyed and said that he'd been missing for a full five days just a few weeks before. She'd finally decided he wasn't going to come home. We discussed whether he could have been ok without food or water for five days, but weren't conclusive. Our workroom isn't really a room, but more of a closet full of tools and paint cans. There is a box full of drop cloths which might be cozy, and warmth from the water heater. There is a sink, but no water source available to a kitty without opposable thumbs.

I hoped Bob had learned his lesson.

But, no!  I was trying to leave the workroom door open to air it out because in whatever length of time Bob stayed in there, he'd needed a potty at some point and I haven't located anything I can clean up. The next day when I opened the garage door, the dear little orange blur came running out of the open workroom and out of the garage.

Meanwhile, our garage door has quit opening electronically. We're hoping it will cooperate again in warmer weather (sub freezing here recently) and haven't done anything to fix it. But it's a pain to open and close it when I'm running short errands, so I've been leaving it open when I'm not home occasionally.

So, now I'm stuck. I can either leave the garage door open for simplicity, or I can air out the workroom, which stinks. (Sorry,kitty, I know you like the scent, but I think it stinks.)  And Bob keeps sneaking back whenever he's able. I was outside unloading groceries today and he tried to sneak in!

Any kitty people who have tips on how to deter Bob?

door to door

Now I've done it. I have dived into the pool called politics.  Me, who can't even remember what election was my first election to vote, when my kids ask.  Me, who takes notes to the polls so I won't forget who someone said was best, but then ends up skipping half the ballot anyway.

Elections, for the rest of you, are on a back burner for several more years. Maybe two, maybe four, but at least the yard signs are down and the robocalls are over. Not here. Our little newborn city is in runoffs. The mayor and three of the four city council positions are to be voted upon Dec. 4. 

I considered burying my head, but the more I've learned about the top contender for mayor, the more I want to help defeat him.  When I started asking about the possible mayors this summer many people would lower their voice as if they didn't want to be heard saying something bad. Then they'd say, "He's sort of a bully."  "He's a bulldozer."  Or, the hesitant, "Well, he does get things done.... But I wouldn't want to get in his way."  They didn't even follow it with "Bless his heart" like a proper Southerner does when insulting someone.  I met the other choices, found someone I felt represented everything he wasn't, and voted for her.  And she came in 2nd of four.

All this brought me to this day, mid November, walking door to door with Pook, canvassing for a mayoral candidate.  Phoning my neighbors. "Can Sandy count on your vote for mayor?" Noting on a spreadsheet the strong yes, leaning yes, undecided, leaning no, and strong no votes.

What I'm learning is interesting. First, I am not as isolated in my political values in this neighborhood as I thought. Second, most people are like I've always been- not wanting to do the research or get involved. Third, they are happy that they now know someone who has done it for them and they will probably vote for her just because of me.

Or, as Pook pointed out, they could be being nice just to get me off their doorstep.

my civic duty

I live in a city. Did you think I lived in Atlanta? Yeah, I did too. I will continue to tell people that I live in the city of Atlanta. But in reality, I did not live in a city, and I didn't move either. We've been voted out of our area of unincorporated county in the Atlanta area and into New City. 

I don't like change and I didn't vote for it, but CD did and I can see how it might be good. The New City will include about 40,000 residents. This is being promoted to emphasize our new local control. It is possible that to many people this means "We don't have to let our tax dollars pay for poor people." Hopefully it will mean improvements to the places I spend most of my time. Our county isn't particularly functional. Don't ask me about our school system; I'd post about it, but it would make me too depressed.

Part of me says "whatever" but part of me figures that if I'm going to have change, I'd better keep up with it and give my two cents if I can.  So I've been reading the city's' web postings. I read articles in all the local papers about the upcoming commissioners' elections. I suggested to CD that we walk to meet one of the mayoral candidates when she was nearby. I even attended a debate among the four candidates for my neighborhood district's commissioner. I was impressed enough with one of the mayoral candidates to put her sign in my yard. I never put political signs in my yard.

Our dear pool is one of three pools in New City. The impoverished county has been ignoring them and two were never opened last summer. Our swim team, peers with the Bad News Bears, wants to continue under new leadership. I am on an executive board of parents who want to advocate for our team and pool. I have put my name on a Parks Department email list.  I am doing my civic duty.

recovery room

I had given in to peer pressure.  I was in Kings Island's "The Beast" Recovery Room.  I lay on a cot and was given a button to pin onto my shirt.  It read "I survived The Beast", although clearly I had not.  I was given coupons for a free soda and burger.  I passed them quickly to a friend, not interested in thinking about food just then.

I gave in once more to Roller Coaster Peer Pressure and rode The Racer at the same Cincinnati park another year.  Then I remembered an experience with my uncle when I was seven.  He and my father had taken me and Sister MD on the then-new Space Mountain at Disney World.  When we finished the ride my father commented on my sister's screams.  My uncle replied that it was precisely because of her screams that he had instead been worried about me in my silence.  Remembering my Recovery Room day, I decided that there was a good chance that my reaction to a roller coaster was to hold my breath.  This explained all the roller coaster experiences I'd had and it put an end to them forever.

Except.  (Of course there is an except.  Otherwise there'd be nothing for me to write about.)  Our school uses free passes to Six Flags over Georgia as an incentive to read.  Not that my kids need an incentive, but they both came  home at the end of the year with free passes.  For the past several years, Pook's pass has just gotten lost-ish and never discussed, let alone used.  He didn't know what Six Flags was and his brother was too young to be going out there.  And Six Flags for toddlers does not fit into my Don't Up The Ante philosophy.  But this year they both had passes and they both knew what the passes could get for them.  Ugh.  I wasn't looking forward to going, an experience of waiting in lines for hours punctuated by watching others ride three minute rides.

And then in came L&P!  Riding on white horses!  (or at least a red minivan)  They volunteered to take my children to Six Flags!  I accepted!  They scheduled a day and they went!  I worried!  (some)  They had an amazing time!  I went to dinner with my husband!  They spent almost 11 hours with my children!  (Do the number of exclamation marks adequately describe my happiness over not going to an amusement park with my children?)

The following is a sample of the day, dictated by Bug:

Six Flags
I went to Six Flags with my friends A and K and their mom and dad, and my brother Pook. The first one I did was the Wile E. Coyote Canyon Blaster. Everybody except for K went on it.  I went on it two times.  The first time, since it was the first one I did, it was just like a regular roller coaster to me.  The second time it wasn’t scary at all and I had my hands up the whole time.  

One of the roller coasters I went on was called The Ninja.  All The Ninja was was twists, upsides downs, corkscrews and sidewayses and hills and diagonals over a lake.  It looked kind of scary to me but it wasn’t to me.  It was all smooth except for a part at the very beginning when you just bumped down.  The upside downs weren’t very scary, they just felt like the other parts.

I was not quite old enough to do bumper cars all by myself because I couldn’t reach the gas pedal.  I did bumper cars two times.  I did the steering and the two times I traded grown ups doing it with me.  The grown ups did the gas.  I could reach the gas but not very well.  The second time I bumped into K on purpose.  I smashed into him!  I almost got Pook.  There was a big traffic jam at the end.  It will be very cool if the bumper cars had horms because you’d be honking them all the time.

stakeout

Bob and Morris are the two cats who live next door.  D isn't really much of a cat person, it's her dog who goes to work with her each day and gets to live in the house.  But she rescued both orange tabbies eight years ago when they and their siblings were dropped off at the park in a cardboard box.  She found homes for the ones that managed to stay out of traffic and ended up keeping the last two.  They live in her garage with a fancy climber, heated cat boxes and probably heated canned food too.  It wouldn't surprise me.  And yet, the two are hunters.  Serious hunters.  Her yard is small, so they seem to spend most of their time in ours.  Their orange coats blend in with dead oak leaves and the ivy in my yard is an endless source of meals for them.  (I doubt they consume.  If I were them, I'd bring the "gift" to D and dine on warm Fancy Feast.)

I caught them in action today, in my backyard.  The cool thing about Bob and Morris is that they hunt as a team.  One often scares out the prey for the other to pounce on.  (Although Bob is getting a bit fat and lazy these days, so I'm not sure he's keeping up his end of it.)

They were still for a long time on a stakeout at the edge of the ivy.

Finally their ears perked up at the same time.  Morris walked slowly closer to the sound.

Morris went for the pounce.

And came out successful. 

He left the yard with a tiny gray mouthful.

And Bob followed.

guest post travelogue

Our Driving Vacation to Louisville, Indianapolis and Nashville went great. Pook had to do some summer homework, and one of the projects was a travel log. I'll add my comments in bold, but the rest is his.

June 6,
8:08am, 0 miles, 66°F
We just left. The back seat is really crowded. I was impressed with myself for the prompt departure. I put food where I could reach it and packed the kids with every toy they could need... but no electronics.

9:47am, 106 miles, 73°F
We’re in Tennessee.

9:45am (or 10:45)
We’re in a new time zone. On Nickajack Lake there was a pelican and a lot of jet skies. We took a rest stop break and ran around for a bit, but the kids still seemed to be in good shape.

1:00pm, 250 miles, 81°F
We just ate lunch. I had a sandwich and cherry 7up. We’re off to Louisville! Unfortunately we had trouble finding a place for lunch, so we ate in a grassy bit off from a gas station parking lot. They were good sports about it fortunately.

1:32pm, 284 miles, 82°F
We’re in Kentucky! Finally! Arrived at BK, MK and LK’s house. It had been so long since we'd seen our former neighbors, I wasn't sure how a visit would go. They were so happy to see us, and so generous, that the kids acted as if it had been a day and not a year. I was plied with drinks and quickly relaxed from the long drive. Their cousins live down the street and soon eight boys were running around playing hockey, catching frogs and screaming like only eight young boys can. They were outdoors until 10:30, possibly the latest my boys had been awake. When we went in, and cousins went home, Mom (Formerly) Next Door set up sleeping bags. Then, at 11pm, she asked them what movie they wanted to watch. Bug was wired and didn't go to sleep until after midnight. I pulled myself out of bed the next morning at eight, but I'd heard kids since 6:30.

June 7
2:50pm, 433 miles, 86°F
We had a good time in the pool. They live in a nice neighborhood. I figured the sun would add to the exhaustion from the lack of sleep and they'd sleep all afternoon in the car. Fortunately, I was right.

3:19, 456 miles, 88°F
We took a long bridge across the Ohio River.

4:55pm, 565 miles.
We’re in Indianapolis.

5:12pm, 575 miles.
We just got to Nana and Papa’s house. We’ll stay here until Friday.

June 8
Today we went to the zoo. We saw the dolphin show. The rhinoceroses were sleepy.

June 9
We went to Conner Prairie. Conner Prairie is a place that is made to be like the 1830’s. We went in a hot-airballoon. The hot air balloon ride was a simulation of an experiment in mail delivery. The mail was intended to go from Noblesville, IN to NY, NY. It ended up in Louisiana and took the train to NY. Our balloon took a tethered 350 foot trip up and returned right where it had started. It was just windy enough to be exciting without being scary. The rest of Conner Prairie is a pioneer village. We enjoyed seeing homes and watching women cook on open fires, spin yarn or teach us at "school". We saw the carpenter's new quarters which we'd seen him building last summer. The kids might have had the most fun chasing (and holding and feeding) a bunch of chickens in the yard of one home.

June 10
Today we went to the children’s museum. We saw the Star Wars exhibit. We looked at the gigantic Fireworks of Glass sculpture by the artist Chihuly. Then we went to a room and learned about the ocean. Then we went to the planetarium and watched a movie on the ceiling about how the universe started. The dinosaurs there look and sound really real and there is thunder sounds and a place where you can see real dinosaur fossils. My favorite was a computer program letting you design your own dinosaur. We had a group effort and made a plant eater who managed to defend itself against a T-Rex in the simulation.

June 11
We didn’t have time to finish the entire Children’s Museum so we went back on Thursday. We rode the carousel and looked at the Science room, the Power of Kids exhibit and the water clock. We also looked at the dinosaur art gallery. The Power of Children exhibit had profiles on Ryan White, Anne Frank and Ruby Bridges. I decided that I was too tired to approach either AIDS or the holocaust with my 5yo, so we went to a program on Ruby Bridges. They understood the racism issue and seemed to appreciate the significance of the program. I'm impressed that the museum has opened this very serious exhibit amid all the fun and play. The museum is a huge and fabulous place. If you're ever in Indy, spend a day (or two!) visiting it. I certainly have not yet outgrown it.

June 12
9:30 am, 638 miles, 64°F
We are leaving Indianapolis and heading to Tennessee, to Grandma and Grandad’s house in Smyrna.

11:36 am, 756 miles
Entered Kentucky.

2:30 pm, 893 miles, 83°F
We’re back to Tennessee.

2:09 pm (or 3:09) 950 miles
The time has changed. We’re at Grandma and Grandad’s house. We saw a wild turkey in somebody’s yard. We had a relaxing afternoon and evening and the kids crashed pretty early. Bug hadn't had a nap all week and was showing the effects.

June 13
10:28 am, 951 miles, 77°F
Leaving Smyrna. We had a good time. We had waffles for breakfast. It's all about the sourdough waffles. Our visit was nice, but I was so ready to get home.

11:11 am, 1000 miles.
Manchester, TN Pook likes to play with numbers and this combination of time and miles attracted his attention. I should teach him about spedometer poker.

12:39pm, 1062 miles, 87°F
We just ate lunch.

12:48 pm, 1071 miles
We’re in Georgia

2:40pm, 1176 miles
HOME! We’ve been gone a week. We had a really fun time. CD greeted our tired souls and listened to three people telling him six stories at once. We'd had phone calls but the boys usually offered two sentences and then ran off.

super something

My neighbor is having a Super Bowl party tonight. I know this because when I remarked that she must be having some sort of major repair done since I'd seen a pick-up in her driveway with a logo on the side and it was a Sunday, CD took a closer look and told me it was (yes, I'm serious) a Margarita Delivery Service Truck. Well, if you're going to be needing some serious margaritas, perhaps this is necessary. I wasn't invited, so I will never know, but I have experienced some serious margarita needs before.

The kids wanted to see the game. Preschool water cooler stuff I guess. Then Bug insisted on putting on his football costume (Tennessee Titans, thank you cousin from TN) and going out with CD to play "Super Bowl". They played until CD worried about his back. Meanwhile I started some oven-fried chicken and put a vinyl tablecloth under the coffee table so my messy boys could eat in the den despite new carpet.

I made them take an oath before it started. "I promise" (I promise) "that no matter how cool the commercial, I will not ask you to buy me anything." They agreed to not ask for a new car. Then the game began and Bug asked at least sixteen times which team was which. CD's brother-in-law, living on the other side of the globe from us, is a huge Pittsburgh fan, so he decided our loyalties.

"What happened?" Bug then asked every time play stopped briefly. I tried to explain about four downs, touchdowns, yards and tackles. CD didn't laugh, but he showed great restraint. I know virtually nothing about football. I failed football in junior high school PE when one of my two attempts at passes dropped behind me (and I made a touchdown for the wrong team. Truly.) I went to the Peachbowl in Atlanta once, with a boyfriend who had played football, and he explained every play as it happened. It was the first and only time that I felt that my brain had room in it for football. Before then and since then I've just assumed football was a Y chromosome thing.

I won't let the boys play because they might just like it and I'm not ready for the brutality of it. "When grown-ups play it's tackle football but when kids play it's touch football?" Uh, no. The kids down the street are playing tackle after the age 5/6 league. But on TV, I'll call it a good experience in American culture and that's fine. Me, I'm wanting a margarita.

puppy love

I'm in love. And he loves me back. I snuggled with him until he fell asleep in my arms. His name is Buster. He is a tiny, soft, black, part-lab with very small paws who licked my hand and immediately rolled over so I could pet his belly. When I picked him up I was hooked. No barking. No jumping on me or the kids. No whining. No dog smell. But I can't have him. He is the new addition to our friends' home.

We have no pet. (Sorry Clark, but as nice as you and Clarks #1-21 have been, as long as you and your roommates are still swimming around in a fish tank, I find it hard to get close.) I have allergies, as did my mom, so we didn't have furry friends in the house when I was growing up. There was a gerbil phase.... I married Yoko when I married CD, so I did live with a cat for a while, despite the sneezing. She was already 17 years old when we met, and lived almost four more, dying when Pook was a baby. But fish, gerbils and even Yoko are just not comparable to a dog.

I've thought about getting a dog for our home. Since I never wanted to have more than one family member un-potty trained at a time, we never considered it seriously. I worry that we'd get attached and then discover that I couldn't breathe well with it in the house long-term and we'd have to give it up. But, everyone in our house is potty trained. And I do have a fenced back yard. And we do have a two story house with all the bedrooms upstairs. And Buster is so sweet. There could be other dogs like him. For now, I'm puppy dreaming.

new friend for Pook and Bug

We have neighbors. While I knew we'd never be lucky enough to have little boys next door who were just the right ages (and good kids!) again, we're pretty happy. A family with a a teenage daughter and son, and a 6 year old daughter has moved in. I could tell that M, the youngest, was going to be a cool kid when I first met her. She was as dirty as she could have been and still been allowed indoors. I like that in a little girl. I knew she'd be a good match.

She came over and she and Bug played outdoors one afternoon, but it was while Pook was sick, so I didn't let them come inside. Today she came over and checked out the toy selection, played with some of our many instruments (doodled gently on the piano) and ran around with a pirate eye patch on for a while. Bug is happy as can be. Pook seems to be reserving judgment. She's in kindergarten and he's in second grade, so I understand the difference. However, she's just exactly halfway between the boys in age, having just turned six.

Her parents are friendly and seem like they'll be easy to get to know. They're encouraging their daughter to babysit for us (she wasn't sure if it was her kind of thing) since apparently "she likes to shop and needs her own money". I haven't met the son yet; he's away at a boy scout camping trip this weekend. It all feels good. I still miss our former neighbors, but I'm glad we have another chance.

in the middle of the road

I recently mentioned the busy roads near us; we live by a major intersection. This morning I was returning from dropping Bug off at school and I noticed what looked like a paper lunch bag in the road. Only for some reason it caught my eye and I looked with more attention as I drove past it. It was a tiny, orange-brown kitten. Sitting on the line between lanes of traffic. Looking terrified. With two lanes to the right and five to the left. All busy with traffic. I gasped and braked as it made eye contact with me. But I drove on. I stopped at a light just ahead and tried to look in my mirrors while simultaneously cringing and not wanting to look in my mirrors.

The chances of it making it through the day are almost none. If I'd looked for a place to stop, then I'd have had to cross two lanes of busy traffic myself. If I could even do that, I suspect I would have scared the kitten who would have then run. No good ending to this story.

weaving a web

I just mapped my driving route from this morning. I seem to have covered an area roughly two miles by five miles with twenty five miles of driving. Seven times up or down one road too. Doesn't seem possible, does it? I can't claim expediency although I tried to combine errands, really I did. We were ready early for the dentist appointments the boys and I had at 8:40, so I swung by the farmer's market. I sent the boys to buy themselves some honey sticks for future lunch box treats and I dashed to my favorite two farmers and quickly bought cucumbers, tomatoes, corn and arugula. Five minutes and we were back in the car. Post dentist (good reports for all) I dropped Bug at one school and Pook at another. I went to the grocery for the rest of our week's food, then brought it home. I multi-tasked while putting away groceries and phoned for a hair appointment. When I wrote it on the calendar I realized I was supposed to pick up a CSA box at the market this week, it hadn't been my a la carte week. I had half an hour before my yoga class was supposed to start, so I dashed back to the farmer's market, doubled my arugula pile as well as lots of other great items, and still made it to the YMCA on time. After the class I picked Bug up and headed home for less than an hour when it was time to pick up Pook. Craziness.

Atlanta, particularly Atlanta suburbs, are pedestrian and cyclist UNfriendly. The roads I drove on are four lanes wide, choked with traffic and spotty about having sidewalks. We cross a major highway intersection with busy on and off ramps. We've been biking a lot since Bug got up on two wheels and I love the idea of running errands on foot or on bike. But if I study the route I drove yesterday, there were only two portions that could have been walked (partially because the kids were with me for part of it). And if I'd walked to the Y I'd have had to use the walking as my exercise because I'd have missed the yoga class. If I'd walked to pick Pook up from school, any nap for Bug would have been impossible. So I'm doing the unthinkable and defending my twenty five mile web.

the village

We live about three unwalkable miles from Bug's preschool. The only family I'm aware of who lives nearby and uses the same preschool can't carpool. She has toddlers who need to be belted into car seats. We're past car seats and into boosters these days. It's annoying that we can't simplify the drive. I carpooled when Pook attended that often and am not interested in ten drives a week past 13 (yes, I've counted) stoplights each direction.

Our carpool to the elementary school was creative last year. Two families took turns picking up Pook from school but I drove children from a different family every morning. The family of the morning kids (J&M) tried to make their schedule simpler this fall and we've been driving together both ways each day so far. I'm happy to drive every morning if it means Bug can take a nap. Unfortunately they just informed me that the schedule isn't working and they're going to have to enroll J&M in after school care. That means no carpool.

That means twenty short, annoying drives a week. I'm searching. I've checked with all the neighbors I know. Everyone is settled into their routines. There are none on our street who use public school now that our next door neighbors are gone. I'm looking. I'm feeling desperate.

I need a village. I don't want to be alone in caring for my kids. I'm frustrated that I don't have anyone to share the burden of driving. I'm frustrated that they have no one else to entertain them. Someone the kids can play with that doesn't need an invitation each time. Someone I can ask for help from without keeping tabs on who owes whom. I don't even need the whole village. Just one family.

home again, home again, jiggety jig

We're home. About ten hours in the car with a crabby Bug, but we're home. Fabulous week, lots of time on boats and in the ocean. I'd bought end-of-season snorkels and masks for the kids and they were a hit, especially with Bug. Pook preferred the days at the "wave beach" on his boogie board. We built sand castles-- both drip castles and molded ones-- and we buried our feet in the sand, only to explode them out again. We explored the old part of town and dripped ate ice cream at the General Store. We went to the aquarium and a lighthouse. Oh, and I never had to cook; we ate fabulous seafood every night. The boys discovered they loved not just shrimp, but flounder and scallops too. Not a single kid's menu all week. I can't have asked for a better time.

And now we're home. The laundry is started. The back-to-school thinking is started. Unfortunately the summer homework is barely started (and causing turmoil). But, in general, the vacation has taken. I feel good. Relaxed. Ready for what is to come. School starts for Pook on Monday; he'll meet his teacher tomorrow. Bug has until after Labor Day. It'll be rough, but he's got a camp for one of those weeks.

We went school shoe shopping today. Pook wears a size 1-1/2 and Bug (at age four wears a 13.) I've warned Pook that his little brother is catching up with him. Another couple of years and they'll wear the same size. The child can't wear Pook's hand-me-down much of anything. Shirts work- I'm putting him in a 5/6 already though and Pook is in a more age appropriate 7/8. I've just decided that underwear has no owner and they can both wear it all. I gave away all the size 4 slim pants last fall when I realized they didn't and wouldn't ever fit Bug. Who knows what pants he'll be in by the time it gets cold here (October). He's so sensitive about the way clothes feel that I assume only half of what I buy for him will be successful.


The neighbors are gone. Very gone. The house has a For Lease sign in the yard. But, to remain optimistic, I've already seen a couple come look at it. Can I even hope for age appropriate children? more little boys? kids I like? Have I used up my luck? The path worn between the houses never got any stepping stones. I was going to let each boy make one. I hope the plants don't get a chance to grow back. Leave the growing to the kids.

spoiled

No, I'm not commenting on how my parents spoiled my children this past week and I'm going to have to deprogram them. (Although they went on some type of "field trip" every day, made lots of wood crafts with my dad and got to paint all their creations with my mom.) No, I'm glad we had so much fun and have other visits with them to look forward to enjoying. What has spoiled us are the friendships next door. Mrs. Next Door came to pick us up from our subway ride home from the airport, and the kids could hardly say 'hi' without blurting out "We're moving back to our old home in Louisville."

Moving? No! Let me have heard incorrectly!

They've been renting next door, hoping to buy, while they tried to sell their old home. And it isn't selling. And Mr. Next Door has had an awkward handshake agreement with the "friend" he's working for, understanding that he'd get insurance benefits starting in July. And they've been reneged. And they have a special needs child who really needs full benefits. And Mr. Next Door's old job was still available to him in Louisville. And Mrs. Next Door's mother has had a stroke and she wants to be closer. And they have family in Louisville. And all forces point back.

In two weeks.

But it gets worse. They have a grandparents trip now blended with a visit to the new house (where Mr. Next Door already moved over the weekend) and with our vacation schedule, tomorrow is the only, the last, the final day our boys will be able to play together.

My children have become accustomed to having friends they can play with whenever. No arranging for playdates and driving them around. No need to feel indebted when someone has "babysat". I've become accustomed to having them entertained.

I'm mourning.

paint this day in sepia tones

CD called our day, yesterday, "a Norman Rockwell kind of day".

Before the heat got too bad, he and the boys went biking. Pook has a new bike without training wheels and was practicing where there was a slope. Bug was zooming around everyone in circles on his little bike. I did some weeding and watering (water restrictions limit us these days) and distributing of more pine straw mulch. We were all sweating by 11am.

Since the "Lemoned Stand" was schedule for noon, Pook started to get ready. We mixed up two quarts of lemonade, got out the card table and a table cloth, the poster and some tape. BK and LK met us outdoors. Mom-Next-Door had the cups and a bag of ice in a cooler. They set up shop in the shade in front of the pool parking lot while the adults went in and out gathering more necessities (trash bag, cloth for spills, chairs for the kids to sit in, and some lunch). The first two customers were there already- a lifeguard and a drive by. Both tipped. Each family had coincidentally scared up $3.25 in quarters which were never needed. Lots of tips: "Here's $4, but I don't want lemonade." Wow. The four boys made $7.65 each, in two hours!

They were hot and tired, so I imposed a thirty minute indoor cool-down before we met the neighbors at the pool. Everyone we know was there; the heat has been in the 90s for a week now. We stayed a long time, all waterlogged but cool. Both Bug and Pook had chosen to bring some of their proceeds to buy ice cream from the ice cream man (who had stopped to buy lemonade from them!) Finally a group of families teamed up and pulled our kids out at the 5pm adult swim. Not too much moaning. I invited the neighbors over to grill out. Pook and Bug were given the options of sitting quietly and reading (needed mellowing time, especially for Bug) or helping tidy the house. They read.

BK, MK, LK and Parents-Next-Door came over and we all watched the Belmont Stakes race. The kids, with no prior knowledge of horse racing, were disappointed in Big Brown's loss. After dinner of brats and beers, their energy renewed, both dads were pulled into the yard for some baseball. I got to stay indoors with Mom-Next-Door and MK, who was too tired to go back out. We helped him with puzzles on the floor.

They left at 8:30. My boys were washed and in bed by 9, exhausted from their day. We were all tired, but in a good way. We'd been very busy, but never rushed. We had done a lot, but had never used the car. Norman Rockwell would be proud.

eating in my pantry

I'm hiding in my pantry eating egg salad and Triscuits for lunch today. Why, you ask, am I hiding in my pantry? Well, I answer, (1) because I fit, and (2) because if anyone sees me a war will start. See, I can't eat something that Bug isn't eating. And Bug wants to do anything these days that Pook does, and both Bug and Pook seem to copy either LK or BK next door. And LK doesn't want yogurt. Not making sense yet?

LK came over earlier. It was barely still morning but we'd only just gotten our sorry summer selves dressed. Soon, LK decided he was hungry. Of course, now they all were. I'd been trying to sell some bananas that would be headed to banana bread if not eaten soon, so I suggested those. LK: "No fanks" (gotta love those Southern manners!) Bug: "I do!" Soon, all the copy cats were eating bananas. LK wants another. Bug wants another. I let them share one. They peel it. Bug doesn't want it after all. I've already eaten one, so it sits on the counter. They go play. Briefly. It is close to noon anyway, so when they came in as a group, clearly having chosen a leader to speak on their behalf, and they asked me for crackers, I suggested lunch for all of them. I bought a h*u*g*e pack of yogurt at Costco at my last visit, hoping to not get back there for a while. No one has been eating yogurt ever since. I suggested yogurt. Bug: "No-ooo" (can you hear the whine and lack of Southern manners?) Pook: "Isn't there anything else?" LK: "I'll have yogurt." He choses blueberry yogurt. I ask if he likes blueberry (yes), if he wants the whole thing (yes) so he opens it and gets a spoon. The others now want yogurt. I dole them out. They want blueberry too, of course. LK: "What kind is this?" (It is still blueberry.) Everyone starts eating peacefully. Then, LK: "I don't like it." Bug: "Me neither." Pook: "I'm not really hungry." I give warnings that if they throw out their yogurts, I am not getting them a new lunch. I send LK home to annoy his own mom and I repeat this to my own. I hate throwing out food. They do not get to taste six things and only eat the seventh. You peel the banana, you eat it. You eat yogurt out of the tub, you finish it. (The banana on the counter was clearly still annoying me.) They vow that they aren't hungry. They won't want anything else until snack time. (I predict hungry boys in the afternoon.) I finally relent and let them go without what I consider to be lunch. I wait until they are occupied and then I check out the contents of the fridge for myself. Leftover egg salad I made Wednesday. Everyone liked it, but there is only one serving left. Do I dare eat it while they're still in the house? Yup. In the pantry. I am a hungry wimp.

sweet?

I recently found a large bag of leftover red and green M&M's in the back of the pantry. I'd made these fabulous pretzel candies (pretzel, chocolate kiss of various holiday flavors, and M&M) for teachers and friends in December and I kept running out of either pretzels or chocolate. Finally I just bought this massive bag. And then I only needed about twenty of them. So, to avoid even more chocolate bingeing around the holidays, I hid them in the back of the pantry. Unlike many people, I can actually live without milk chocolate, especially relatively generic types. (Dark chocolate is a different story.)

Today I decided to bake M&M cookies with the boys, LK and BK. Turns out, BK doesn't like chocolate at all, so he got a few made especially for him. We made Alton Brown's "Chewy" recipe since I've been on a quest for a good chewy cookie for years. The dough had to chill, so I baked them after lunch. I went upstairs while the first batch was cooking, and came down expecting to smell that sweet smell of baking, but instead the house smells like... gardenias.

Last night we had a friend over while his wife is out of town. He thoughtfully brought a bottle of wine and a large selection of gardenias from their yard. The gesture was sweet, but those gorgeous flowers are too sweet. I have a bush of my own in the backyard, doing well after a huge pruning and transplant. It lives next to the compost pile (ha! I wonder if the compost would smell without it?!) enjoying the only rich soil in our yard. It is just getting ready to bloom this year. Maybe I'll bring one little blossom in and float it in a bowl, but a whole vase of them was overwhelming. I just kicked them into the compost from which will come new gardenias next year. Today I'd rather smell cookies baking.

lemoned for 25c pre cup

Spelling now corrected by someone, we're having a lemonade stand next weekend. I know this because there are flyers taped to all the mailboxes on the street which advertise this fact. LK next door came up with this original idea and the four of them would have started it at 5pm last night if any of us had had paper cups. Instead they got started on a business plan. BK and Pook wrote out a list of items they will need, Pook adding little boxes next to each item so he can X them off:

• lemoned
• cooler
• poster
• card table
• ice
• jug
  
• cups
• chang box

I will provide lemonade mix, Mom-next-door will provide cups, we'll both donate pitchers and ice. BK gets to handle the money, Pook gets to serve, LK seems to be happy to have given them the idea, and Bug gets to yell to invite passersby headed to the pool across the street. They may do well in this location. We'll see next week. Photos to follow, I promise.

*****
Update: Today, on our way home from the zoo with a friend, I overheard in the backseat:
"Me and BK are having a lemonade stand next weekend."
"I'm gonna do that too I think."
"How much are you gonna charge?"
"Fifty cents a cup."
"We're charging 25 cents. If you have a really large price chances are you aren't going to get very many people."
"Well I'll have a small for 15c, and a medium for 25c and a large for 50c and and extra large for 75c."

*****

applesauce

May is an impossibly busy month. Bug finishes school on the 19th and Pook on the 23rd. They have performances, award ceremonies, field days and end of the year parties with school. I'm invited. What the ....?! These are my last days of freedom and you want me to bring my favorite teddy bear and a picnic blanket for lunch? You want me to scoop ice cream in the noisy cafeteria for two hours? Applaud for kids who don't deserve awards on Awards Day but who receive them so their ego won't be damaged? Enjoy a volunteer appreciation luncheon? Who are these people kidding? When will I accomplish all the things I wrote on my To Do list last August?

We have a make-up baseball game this week-- one practice and three games between now and Saturday. And a soccer practice and game. And "Family Day" at the ballpark with all the inflatables and ring tosses and junk foods on Saturday. Friday night we're hosting two kids for a birthday sleepover for Pook's 7th. And then come the end of season soccer pizza party and the end of season baseball pool party.

I'm going to blame the scribbles all over my calendar as well as the medication I'm taking for yesterday's spaciness. I'm trying to stay organized so I won't drop any apples, but some are doomed for applesauce. Yesterday was a draw- Target, Kroger, Costco - pick two. I truly hate going to Costco and I only do it about four times a year, but I knew it had to be done. Since my beloved farmer's market opens on Wednesday, I decided to postpone groceries and deal with Costco. I was good there; I avoided samples, didn't impulse buy (much) and stayed under $200. I did, however, buy a couple of their rotisserie chickens.

I shoved them in the fridge at home, dashed to Target and then picked up Bug in the nick of time. Got him home and the furnace guy was in the driveway to check the A/C. Ok, I can handle this, we'll postpone nap a bit. The furnace guy mentions that there are "some men" in my backyard. Oh! The landscape guys came back for measurements. Everyone's in the backyard now. Bug is swinging, enjoying my distraction. As soon as everyone leaves, I read Bug a story, get him in bed, and make it downstairs in time for one piece of Dove chocolate before greeting Pook from school. We get homework done, Bug wakes, LK and BK come over to turn my house inside out play. Mom-next-door (of LK, MK & BK) pops over to see if I can watch LK tomorrow. We start chatting and suddenly it's 5:30 and I have no food even started. I frantically try to thaw some chicken. Water, microwave, oh-just-cook-it-frozen. Pour on some chicken broth, add some paprika. Potatoes. I know I have those because I just pulled out one that smelled bad. Yikes! Many are bad, there are only a couple tiny red ones that are worth eating. I run next door to borrow her potatoes. (I love having friendly neighbors! Good trade: potatoes for LK?) Things get calm just about two minutes before CD walks in. I open the fridge to pour milk.

Two rotisserie chickens.

Applesauce.

spoons and other gifts

Quote of the day: "I'm a good little boy and always very curious." (Bug)

*****

We're on Spring Break this week, and have stayed in town. This means that we're going to Field Trip our way around town, and that I'll be hopelessly behind in things like laundry by the end of the week. And that I'll be a little frayed around the edges from so much time with the boys. I may not get a chance to post again.

*****

Sunday night our neighbors invited us over. Their boys are Little Kid (LK) age4, Middle Kid (MK) turning 7, and Big Kid (BK) age 8. MK has Downs Syndrome and Autism. He runs around with the others some, but is often inside playing on his own. He's able to communicate a bit, but isn't really verbal. I'm pleased at how much the boys accept him and include him. All I've explained is that different people's brains work in different ways. Apparently good enough.

So, it was MK's birthdayparty. I asked Pook and Bug what we should give to him. They both started to giggle, then answered at the same time, "spoons!" Well, they're right, his favorite thing right now is spoons. He likes the noises they make against his hand and cheek. Some spoons are better than others and he's walked off with most of his mom's dinner spoons and I think all of her measuring spoons. So, spoons were part of our gift. I also bought a fun Playdoh kit I thought he'd enjoy.

The day of the party, Bug got himself in trouble by giving me the tongue-sticking-out-finger-wagging-combo and was sentenced to a 30 minute delay going to the party. Honestly, other than kicking him to the moon and back or selling him on eBay, it was the meanest thing I could think to do. (I'm not yet sure if it had the desired effect.) My husband (who needs a pseudonym more than even LK, MK, and BK do) offered to stay behind while Pook and I headed next door. Since there was much screaming, I was happy to accept. I left the gift behind because Bug hadn't signed the card and was in no mood to do so.

When my husband (who I think wants to think of his own pseudonym) came over with Bug, they had an additional package with them. Turns out, Bug had settled himself down and said he wanted to give MK a gift by himself. He searched through our seldom used board books and chose My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss. He put it in a shoe box, got a piece of paper and wrote his name on it, got out a colored envelope and put the "card" in it, taped it all together and brought it to MK.

I was so impressed.

We were about to leave (an hour past bedtime) and MK hadn't opened gifts yet. I suggested that Bug just give him his. He took both presents to him and MK opened the Playdoh. Unexciting. On to the next box, Bug's. He took out the book, immediately started to flip through the pages, then, when bothered by the onlookers (us) moved to another room to continue flipping through the book.

Well done, Bug. (He liked his spoons too, but the ones his mom picked out for him he liked better!)