Made you look

 Gonna be great for the resale value of our home. One of our children, who shall remain nameless, decided it'd be a good idea to write the word Gullible on the ceiling. Truly. 

I can't even. 

***

Me, hoping to clear stuff in a staging area out into the attic where it belongs: If I turn the space heater on now in the attic, how long do you think it'll take to get comfortable?

Dada: About four months.

***

It's one of those craptastic weather days here. Even our neighboring district that we laugh about never cancelling is CLOSED. The boys are spread eagled, "WHAT!? Whaaaaaaat?! They CLOSED!? No WAY!" We used to live in that district and would sigh as we got ready and wonder why in the world the district we are in now always seemed to delay or close. "Those kids are NEVER in school. Those poor (or "lucky" depending on who was lamenting) kids! They never go! We are always in school!" Once we moved here, to a much more rural district, we understood. With all the farm fields, you have a totally different relationship with weather in all its forms. All that laying water lends us tons of humidity, so we have fog. Lots of fog. Sometimes freezy fog, which is oddly beautiful. The district north of us is much more condensed into city/buildings/etc and there is a line where we pretend Gandalf stands, staff out, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" It's crazy to drive up there and the fog just... stops. In a line. Like it knows there's a boundary it can't cross. And that's why we don't have school on time and they do. 

But we are all in pajamas today, haha, wheee! The children have already been warned that there will be housework today. Heh heh heh heh...

***

Be careful out there. Or, as the Muppets say, "watch out for the ICY PATCH!"

This Old House

After 40 plus years, my parents are moving.

Sorry, shoulda had you sit down first.

We stopped in on our way home to see the new place for the first time but I didn't take any pictures as they still have boxes and plastic wrap over the carpet so it wouldn't have done the place justice. However, some of us then made a trip over to the old homestead.

Some of you have been to Ye Olde House on the Hill and may have fond memories of hanging out on the porch swing ("that is NOT a roller coaster. Be gentle. GENTLE!"), or sliding down the now lily covered hill (which my Dad used to have to mow) on the Twister tarp ("what are you DOING!?") or coloring with sidewalk chalk all over the corner lot ("Girls, we need rain. Can you go draw, please?").

This is the porch swing where my bestie and I used to snooker my little brother into being a "patient". Once we had his consent and he was prone, we'd tie him to the swing with a jump rope so he wouldn't fall off and then would proceed to "operate" on him with our Fisher Price doctors' kits. Being extremely ticklish, I was always surprised that he'd consented more than once...

This was the Storage of Christmas Stuff room in our attic. I never thought I'd see the day that it was empty. There are crayon scribbles on the ceiling behind the cameraman and Carrie asked me if I'd done it. "Seeing as it says 'Jack B wrote this', what do YOU think?"

My parents' eat-in kitchen. Looks forlorn without the full view of mom's baskets on the walls and fun things in the cubbies. Also looks naked without the fridge and stove, haha.

The living room, with PaPa's vacuuming triangles if you look close. I always loved the French doors.

This was my bedroom, my gorgeous floor. When I lived here, it was covered in hideous (not an exaggeration) wallpaper showing large avocado, sunset orange, and yellow flowers. When I was small, second grade maybe, my parents redid it for me in Holly Hobbie wallpaper with soft blue trim. That lasted until about my junior year of high school when I'd worn my parents down with my begging and pleading to paint it Bermuda blue. AND they let me do a mural featuring a dragon on the smallest wall. Once I moved out, my mom papered it and had a very restful seaside theme going, featuring shells from the ocean and adorable stuffed crabs we'd picked up in our travels. 

And that would be Carrie helping unwallpaper during one of her visits when she was small. The bed fit between those windows and she saw a peely part so she "helped."

So send your good vibes to my parents as they downsize and, most importantly, enjoy only one flight of stairs in their new home instead of four. 

I shudder to think what Shenanigans this old house would report if these walls could talk.