Beach the Brave can do a handstand on the beam but the entry rug tag teaming with a chair won this round. We went to the Zoo and I dropped and broke our camera…so I’m waiting not so patiently to replace it.
Fisher jammed a toe on a rock stopped him cold for exactly one and a half days.
We’ve had some misunderstandings. Like how a shovel works in rocky ground. Which gate the dogs are opening. What row the melons should go in.
And what instrument Beach would like to play. We started with what mom wants the Cello, Beach countered with the Harmonica, a Kazoo, the Accordion, and settled on Piano. But the transition wasn’t as smooth as that list alludes there are allegations of parental torture.
Another mis- understanding, what is Beach’s talent…she went from not knowing what the National Anthem was to playing it on the kazoo ALL DAY L-O-N-G! 
The only thing worse than the kazoo is the fact that she can’t sing but doesn’t know it. Children who burst into spontaneous creative song tend to have higher IQ’s than children who don’t & the parents of kids who burst into spontaneous song but can’t sing, don’t care about those theoretical last few points. “I want to go on America
“What’s your talent?”
“Singing.”
Had we both not been in the kitchen when she said it one of us might have managed something parental but together we giggled and snorted and smiled and tried our best to not pee our pants… We had some layovers too.
Colby’s parents returned last night from 6 mouths teaching in Europe .
We did another Bird Cycle, turkey eggs (stinky!) to the compost bin, baby chicks to the small coop, and built a new coop and run for baby turkeys Thanksgiving, Christmas, & When the Hell Ever. But Gimp stayed in the Gimp cage in chicken limbo. *Taps playing on the kazoo* She isn’t really growing and we had to take the companion chicken Lady In Waiting out because she WAS growing and as it turns out she was a HE. Oh the Days of Our Farm, sigh. 
Found new pursuits. We finsished the last of the 1st grade work books which leaves us to finish 2nd grade over the summer. 
I developed two new habits. One is weeding, the other is combing through abandoned blogs looking for answers as to what happened to make someone document their lives in some cases for years then without ceremony stop. I found some pretty disenchanting answers to human nature. And silly me realized that life isn’t all that people may portray it to be. I forgot this editing quality humans enjoy after all I am a magnificent scrapbooker myself and I was just joking with Colby the other day that on Face Book the house is finished because that is the way I crop the photos.
Finally got the last of the garden starts in the ground.
I made Beach really cool new curtains out of shredded strips cut from an old blue sheet (no photo, no camera).
Met new friends at a street carnival.
Played with old friends in the sprinklers.
Finished the 7th Harry Potter.
Made homemade fry bread & frozen yogurt.
Wandered the People’s Market with a friend, bought 2 lbs of strawberries, a handful of little treasures for Beach, and 2 birthday gifts.
Woke up this morning feeling a little sore from the war I’m waging against the weeds and the misunderstanding with the shovel. A little over populated in house from the sleepover (still in progress), wishing for some hot dry solitude maybe a long slow run up a mountain. “Are you not making coffee?” he asked. “I don’t seem to be.” I answered. His hand on forehead. “Go look in the mirror.” he says a little too sweetly. Jaundice is so not my color but at least it doesn’t make my ass look big. 
Perhaps I will take the sick day avoid a misunderstanding with gravity and a major medial mishap, avoid a layover in the hospital and pursue the end of the book I’m reading and a bowl of Hot and Sour soup. Do some research online about all the attributes of my future new camera. Put in the right frame today sounds rather promising. What was that old religious saying? God tells you to close the damn door so the Devil can open a window...I'm just joking I know it is the other way around God never does the talking, that's the Devil's job.
Oh, YEAH. This I loved. This I finished with a big smile on my face. It felt like I was walking with you, rambling really, through your life and your thoughts and we were stopping here and there, with you picking something up, looking at it and saying, "That reminds me of the time…" and then you talking and us walking and now? I'm here. Looking forward to another walk with you. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteLove the kazoo, all through, like she was playing in my other ear, as you talked. :)