Happy Ground Dog Day

Lucky for us my little step sister was in the house on February 2nd.

She's a ground dog for sure.

have a seat. just not yet.

Look!

Our first full day of Spring, and you can almost sit back, relax and feel the sun on your face.

Almost.

(we're doing our most potent snow-melt dances EVER)

bonus points for creativity

It's a crazy world, we all know it.

In the busy hub of our family life, sit down dinners together feel momentous.

I want to celebrate every time we do it; which is why, I think, we have table traditions. Guests at our table are often taken by surprise when we suddenly yell in unison, fingers on noses, and when we break out the question of the night.

These are moments I never want to take for granted, and also the reason why mixing it up a bit at meal time seems important to me.

Last night we tried something new.

I left six letter tiles (think scrabble) at each place setting.

While we enjoyed our meal, the instructions were to turn the tiles into a word, a phrase or an anagram representing POSITIVE things to say about our individual days' experiences.

This attempt to share instantly became a game of word invention mockery--

['gno-lec': "being kissed by a gnome" although it turned into "something akin to full frontal snogging"]

--which I know to be my family's language of love (the mockery part).

['a-tit-i-a': "an enthusiastic salutation"]

I have teenagers, and I'm married to one as well.

I should have seen the writing on, well, the table.

['get-siq': "you're gonna get siq (accent on SIQ)"]

I will say that there was MUCH laughter. 

['heu-dar': "jumping up and down enthusiastically"]

When the game downgraded to bodily functions, (we laughed hardest, I won't deny it) I stood up to commence the clean up process, which, ironically, went quickly and painlessly because of the residual hysteria that ensued.

['log-ho': "what you proclaim in the bathroom 'ere you make a deposit in the porcelain bank"]

These are my people.

all for one and none for nudes

Took my three kids shopping for a prom dress... I should have realized my mistake right there. But, as I told them the other day when we had to sit in a Jiffy Lube waiting room together, "thanks for being part of this team." Even though you hate the garage smell and touching germ-y plastic chairs and the fact that at least one of us always makes small talk with strangers... Doing things together isn't always better, but it does sort of unite us in ways we might not expect. Like agreeing that a high five with the cashier at the grocery store when he hands over the receipt totally makes his day... and that naked mannequins make us uncomfortable. We wandered around our local Macy's for about an hour, and had to keep passing a center display that included an arm-less nude fake lady. I'm a little disappointed to admit that I think I didn't even notice her: until my kids did. And they couldn't keep passing her without taking pity on her situation. And trying to help... (by tossing clothes off another rack up on to the seven foot model) and then there was giggling. And we left. And we laughed.

then things got ridiculous

The kids woke up to get ready for school, and I packed lunches and gaped open-mouthed at the weather report on the phone.

 Then I got in the car to start the shuttle service, and saw how preposterously cold the outside was being

then returned to my spot in front of the wood stove until it was time to pick them up again in the afternoon.

We do NOT live in the Arctic. Or Iceland.

I'm pretty sure.

I flew to Texas

 I took my new iphone and flew to Texas.

It was a heavenly weekend.

Despite the realization that I fit right in with the over fifty single ladies crowd in Sudoku row on the airplane.

(...awkward...)

re: the squash; it's in the genes

OH! The produce.

I love it.

Really. Gardening makes me HAPPY.

But I do get overwhelmed at the way it just comes ALL.AT.ONCE.

Today AGAIN, I picked almost two dozen cucumbers and a few more squash; didn't even glance at the tomatoes and beans, because, well, it was raining, and I had a big pot of vegetable soup simmering on the stove top. What was I going to do with more veggies?  I mentioned the yellow/summer squash in a previous post...  I ended up bringing it to my parents' house.  They have mass produce problems of their own.  I woke up to this email from my mom yesterday morning:

She means business when it comes to sharing the garden goods. Mom's my emergency contact.

Now you see why.

Look who got a new bike

feng shui

I drove to the High School this morning to take care of some business in the office.  I just about cried when I saw the front lawn.

 All those beautiful mature trees!

Cut down.

As much as I like progress, (demolition for a new school) this made me SAD.

 However, finding this sunflower made me HAPPY.

See how it leaned right over and said

"Don't worry.Everything will be alright."

There's a lady on the soccer field

A big snapping turtle is laying eggs at midfield.  Front yard soccer season probably just ended.  

Either that, or we've got ourselves a new striker.

DO pineapples mean hospitality?

Ever since we took a family trip to the coast of Maine a few years ago, Sweet Mesquite fell in love with all the golden pineapples that adorned local homes and business signs.

It's generally a historic area with many old homes from the 1700s. We told her that the pineapple is a sign of hospitality.

She became infatuated with pineapples; especially the golden ones. Now, even when we travel without her, the rank of siblings is quick to point out (in mysterious-sounding voices) "Look! A golden pineapple!" after which there is a shout out to document it for Mesquite.

And then look at just how enthusiastically they put on their best hospitable faces.

Maybe I'm confusing the meaning; maybe pineapples are a symbol of hostility.

OR

Perhaps we need to re-visit the meaning of hospitality.

she's a trend setter (or a trouble maker, you decide)

 I took two of my daughters shopping this afternoon. We found a couple of pairs of jeans and a skein of yarn, and after that it was just window shopping and fluffy stuff. I laughed when Rooney pushed the pant leg of a mannequin into the sleeve. She modeled the desired fashion outcome for me

and then proceeded to become an impromptu window dresser. Look for a new trend at a mall near you.

oh deer!

It's been a harsh winter.

I think we can agree.

The other day the temps in town hit the mid 30's and I spotted a woman in flip flops and shorts at the grocery store. She was wearing what the rest of us have been craving: hints of warm weather.

We had a day in the 50's this week, and now today we're recovering from a mid week nor'easter and wind chills below zero.  

Forget the polar vortex, people. 

New England is suffering from bi-polar vortex.

We're not the only ones hungry for Spring.

There have been clusters of deer roaming the neighborhood.

The other day the kids and I counted SIXTEEN deer in one herd munching on the shrubs around our front door.  

We haven't seen grass in the yard since 2013.

I have faith that it's still there.

My prediction is that you won't see a region more happy to welcome Spring mud season.

Olympic sleeping-in

It's snowing again!

It's really beautiful.

We knew before bedtime last night that school would be canceled.

Mostly because I didn't want morning boy rushing out of bed at an early hour (which he is prone to do on non-school days) I challenged him to be a medal contender in the newest Olympic event: sleeping in. To his credit, he made a valiant effort. Of the six of us, he was third out of bed. We really ought NOT to include Dub, since he was padding down the stairs before the clock even read 4:00 am. For the record, I made it to 7:19 am.  Morning boy clocked in at 7:55, and my money for the gold was on Rooney. Much to my surprise, the podium looked like this:

Now the Nor'easter is raging outside, we're keeping tabs on the Sochi games and winter is looking just as beautiful on the inside.

emoticons: in sync

Following a text message conversation about coordinating our schedules to plan a time to exercise together,

my friend sent me a text yesterday with a cute little emoticon of what looked to me to be a bunny.  "This is us in sync" is what she texted immediately following the pictorial representation, apparently confirming the meaning of the little cartoon. I don't have cute little emoticons on my phone, so this is what I texted her back:

(at first glance she wondered if our toilets were out of order)

matching socks isn't our thing

It wasn't too hard too look around the house the night before

"Crazy Hat Day"

to inventory our resources. An overflowing basket of

mismatched socks ended up being our pot of gold.

 It IS supposed to be cRaZy, right?!?

 So off he went... my little pile of socks.

(I couldn't suppress my giggles)

 He had that quick moment of doubt just before the bus arrived...

 but I told him to RELAX.

What can go wrong

when you're wearing a pile of socks on your head?

a pre dinner show

We had three missionaries over for dinner on Sunday.

There were 10 other people as well.

Plus the six of us.

That's a lot of mouths.

We divided up into three teams in order to decide who would line up for dinner first.

Each missionary stood on one foot, chewing gum and squeezing a scoop under their leg.  The last one standing ate with his team first.

Silly? Yes.

And funny.

They were good sports.

don't ask us to deck your halls.

The tree is up.

Such a simple statement.

By reading those four little words you might never understand the BIG chaos that was caused by a seemingly simple event. That's why I'm going to tell you. Don't you dare think that decking the halls is simple over HERE.

Have a seat.

First, the back-story.

My parents down-sized.

Their big Christmas tree needed a home.

(right: me.)

The tree also came with a large metal stand.  Mom and Dad were pretty sure the stand did not belong to the tree in the box, but they were both going home.  With me.

My people revolted (a little).

They made it clear that anything besides a REAL tree would be less than desirable.

Because we're young and energetic and willing to put forth the physical effort it takes to haul in the tree, the hand-me-down stayed in the box. The old stand was on stand-by.

We're young and energetic and willing; however, we have schedules that rarely afford us more than 20 minutes at a time in one place together.  Therefore, Mr. Dub stopped at the tree farm on the way home from work on Friday and paid for a tree.  We weren't sure when we were going to be able to pick it out and cut it down, but it was paid for.

Fast forward to the moment when we are hauling the tree through the front door and cannot find our own sturdy tree stand.  "That's okay!" someone yells from the hall--"We have that old tree stand that Mimi and Grampy gave us!"

And so it went.

We were so happy to get the tree UP, watered and strung with lights

(all while festive Christmas music was playing in the background)

that we immediately called for an all-hands-on-deck decorating party.

Homework stopped,

ornament boxes were distributed,

people came

and we made  it to almost 100% decorated status.

I probably should not have felt like the most surprised person on the planet when

the tree.fell.over.

Branches cracked. Water spilled.  Ornaments fell. Lights went out.

That's when the cacophony of the varied responses to stress and surprise became an unsavory stew of things that don't mix well...  Shock. Stress. Laughter. Anger. Tears.

Hey--an extra hearty Merry Christmas to you and yours if you never have a tree decorating experience like this.  In our house?  It's just a contingency in the big plan.

It became a humbling dust-yourselves-off-and-try-again experience that happened to time itself perfectly with the start of the Christmas Devotional Broadcast blaring from the other room.

We soaked in the spirit of the evening, climbed into the garage attic to find our trusty tree stand, stood it back up and wired it to the walls so it won't fall over again.

Then, while visions of sugar-plums danced in our heads, we snubbed the mess and tucked ourselves into our beds; feeling peace on earth and goodwill towards men.

nobody told me

When I was little and dreamed about being a grown up, I never imagined including in a description of my day some of what I now consider to be my happy reality:

I eat handfuls of dry Honey Smacks from the box and call it breakfast.
All six beds in the house rarely get made on the same day.
The laundry seems to take on a life form all its own; multiplying and replenishing the earth.
I look at the toppling piles of paper and things to do, throw up my hands and mumble "you win."
Lunch means grabbing the remains of someone's unfinished breakfast, and sipping the not quite empty water bottle discarded from yesterday's sports bag or backpack.
A trip to the grocery store is my most exciting outing of the day.
A phone call from a child or a friend triggers delightful belly laughter.
I count sincere and vigorous laughter as my workout for the day.
If the dishes get washed, it feels like winning the Super Bowl.
"Come on baby, light my fire" means being married to someone who will call and offer to do the grocery shopping on his way home from work.

Any more you would add to the list?

there's a car in the woods

We've been storing a vehicle for some friends who moved away (sad).  People who come over ask why we have a car in the woods?  We've had some HOT weather this summer, and I like to think that the little Odyssey is grateful for the shade.