Mayday on May Day

A certain 7 year old was exploring past the boundaries of our property. I caught his attention and ordered him back to our side of things, posthaste. My first mistake was turning away while he was still descending the far creek bank and heading back into the house, assuming he'd follow.

Once again, to my wondering eyes should appear a normal looking boy, but no, I am met with a mud covered, wet, mostly triumphant human being who apparently had to hit every single water molecule on his way back across. 

After being ordered to strip to skivvies outside and then come in as I was starting his bath water, the kid magics himself into thin air. There's the pile of his clothes and boots, but no kid. And no skivvies, thank heaven, so we can assume for the moment that he's still in them.

I track him down again to be informed, "Liam dared me 50 dollars to go back in in just my skivvies." 

Are you even kidding me? First of all, your brother does not have anywhere near 50 dollars. He has about 53 cents. And secondly, seriously!? In your skivvies? And yet, why am I surprised? 

The Shenanigans continue as he loudly informs me, "I have a snail on my finger and I can't get it off!" Turns out that, yes, there are leeches in the ditch/creek and he found one or was found by one... either way, he got it off himself as I'm on the cell phone on the front porch to Dada, doubled over and crying with laughter because we had just talked about how surprised we were that none of the kids had found leeches yet. Leave it to the Damonater...

Kid's gotta camp

So then there's this guy, off to 5th grade camp:

They were supposed to limit themselves to one bag of bedding (his has his huge, honkin' rainboots and old shoes in as well) and one bag of old clothes. I told him everything should come home dirty and he looked at me like I had four heads. 

"Liam. You'll be there until Friday. Every pair of skivvies should get worn. Every shirt should get worn. You have rain gear in there if you need it and socks for every day. Things had better get worn!"

Carrie tried to bet me $1 that he wouldn't brush his teeth all week. I informed her that, "just because YOU went a whole week without brushing doesn't mean HE will. Plus, he has his fun flossing thing that he's excited about, so he'll probably brush. "

"I know. That's why I only bet $1. I'm strategic."

...

*Shudder* Anyway.

They wanted all 5th graders to be dropped off and organized in the high school parking lot and the buses and cargo truck of their Stuff left from there. We've gotten the text saying they've arrived safely at camp and we can't wait to hear the stories of all the fun outdoor activities they'll be doing. 

It took five buses and a Penske truck to get them outta there. Pray for cooperative weather and passion for learning!

Characters on a Clothesline

In some ways, I am very much like my mother. I've learned a lot about being a good steward from her. In preschool I won second place in a recycling contest, and that was way before communities were passing out recycling bins to every household.  She helped teach me to turn off lights that weren't being used, to put on a sweater when I was cold instead of messing with the thermostat, and to draw all over the backs of papers as well instead of throwing it out and getting a new one. 

I also inherited her love of line-dried clothes.

It drives my husband bananas.

But they smell SO good, and sunshine and wind are free, so why not!?

Fortunately, our Home Owners Association hasn't noticed or found anything in our bylaws saying that I can't. They have plenty to say on other issues, but that's another rant entirely.

Unfortunately, our young trees are too far apart to support practical, high clotheslines. I have lines strung from the top rails of our chest-high fence in the corner of our yard, and I confess, one is tied to the outside hardware of our fireplace. It looks pretty hillbilly, but I get to have wonderful smelling clothes and the neighbors get to snicker at our skivvies.

Which is exactly why my husband is mortified.

I do actually try to be discreet and hide them between rows of much longer and better covering clothes. But I had to laugh today as I hung Angry Birds underwear belonging to the boys. They were right next to skivvies displaying the LEGO movie characters, and Thomas the Train, and Cars, and Buzz Lightyear.

I thought about birds sitting on wires and how appropriate it is to have Angry Birds on my clotheslines. My clothesline is too low to the ground. I'd be angry, too. Especially when the Resident Newfie strolls through and gets hairs on everything. I hike them up as high as I can, but you can only do so much without a 6 foot fence.

So guess what my sweet husband found at an auction? One of those holder-upper-forked-clothesline-raising-things. I'm sure they have an official name, like "prop", but that's not nearly as fun to type. I was ecstatic as I'd told him excitedly about how my Grammy used several of those on HER wonderfully high clothesline.

It's a standard size, so he said it's going to need to be shortened a bit for my short clothesline, but I'm delighted nevertheless. And that's another fun word that we don't use enough. Nevertheless. I'm going to try to work that into more conversations...

Anyway, I'd told my hubby that the neighbors may laugh at our unmentionables if they must, and that's okay because everyone has unmentionables. I tried to reassure him that they'd be worried if I hung out everything BUT unmentionables. "Heavens, don't they wear them over there? Steer clear of THAT house. We're not going to associate with their kind."

He wasn't buying it. But he loves me enough to buy a clothesline-raiser-upper-thingie for my Angry Birds and all.

So. What goes on YOUR clothesline?

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By the way, there's a new post up on the Telling It Like It Is blog. It's watermelony.

8 is Enough!

I kind of started Liam's birthday celebrating early. Wednesday night we ordered pizza, his choice, and sang to him and gave him our family gifts. I've learned that a birthday on Halloween leads to mass chaos between the school day and parties and parade and dinner and homework and trick or treat. When are you supposed to fit a birthday in? The day before, naturally. Spread the love.
 

His card from us was picked by Damon. It's a singing, vibrating hamburger with googly eyes. It never fails to make them laugh. See?
 

 

He got a yellow gift bag from Grandmama with her usual across-the-board goodies from flash cards to books to yellow plates/napkins/plasticware to Lego shaped candles!
 

 

Yes, I am That Mom, who buys her kid underwear for his birthday. He's grown a ton and needed it anyway, so he got fun Skylander and Angry Bird skivvies from his Mama.
 

 

All right, I got him a pretty sweet Angry Birds hoodie, too. I'm not all bad!

Pap and Grandma Barb brought him a Star Wars Lego set when they got here, so he was over the moon and has his um, some star-fighter thingie all assembled and is delighted that it shoots um, thingies? Haha!