When You Live in the Boonies

some things are enough a part of daily life that you invest in one of these...


...and not just for laughs.

Can't wait to give it a test-twist!

snapshot of two fake smiles in the same green shirt.

Grandma bought the boys matching shirts --just in case people didn't find reason enough to ask me if they're twins.  We made a trip to Lowe's today to test it out.  Sure enough, Lowe's patrons were nearly mauling me for their turn to ask.

For the record:
They aren't twins.
They are 16 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, 5 hours, and 51 minutes apart.
One looks like his dad, the other doesn't so much.
One has a pot belly, the other's ribs show.
One has curly hair, one has straight.
And they have at least a five inch difference in height.

-to name a few

Summer Vacation: Month 2

As a mother of two young children who has much more to care for than two young children, my mind goes wild when I ponder what I would do with a summer vacation to myself.  I get dizzy thinking of the possibilities.

Eleven weeks!

I have list upon list in my head. Things To Do.  You know, the kind of things to do that are more fantasy than anything, the kind that I would never seriously write down.

If I had a summer vacation, on the other hand, I would write down every To-Do in the Universe and then work tirelessly for eleven weeks to accomplish.  Yes, I just said that:  If I had a summer vacation, I would work!  Call me old.

This could explain why no one will give me a summer vacation.  I wouldn't use it properly.  I wouldn't float from one semi-engaging activity to the next.  I would be fully engaged! Totally invested! Enthusiatic to squeeze every minute for the chores it's worth!

In stark contrast to my manic to-do list spewing, workaholic tendencies, here you will observe my 11 year-old sister and an example of proper use of summer vacation:

Ah, to be young and floating between activities.

Nolan Says

"Ice cream is my favorite day of the week!"

Yield

We were not so busy in March
when we weeded
tilled the earth
and planted seeds.
It was our second attempt in gardening

In March, there was hope in
a fresh start
a great stretch of soil
tilled and manured (thank you horse)
and plans for dedication

Dedication turned to occupation
--except not with gardening
and suddenly I was only making
infrequent stops
unannounced, unplanned for, inadequate

Weeds took over
any spot a seed hadn't sprouted.
Truly, an embarrassment.
The garden had hope only in prayers
though we forgot it even in those

Then yesterday,
we took a break from our occupation,
a break for Bocce Ball,
which took us to the yard's lonely corner
where I noticed some green -- and not just weeds

A harvest!
Small, tangled in unwanted growth,
but still healthy and ripe.
Peas.  Beans.  Garlic.  Lettuce.
The first harvest of the year.

I would be proud, but how could I be?
This was purely by accident.
Everything after March,
when we had time to plant seeds:
A pure, delicious accident.

I Love This Kid

This is my son, Pookman, on the hottest day of the year.  He insisted on wearing this shirt, despite the long sleeves, because it sports a picture of three trains.  Pookman is obsessed with trains right now.  It is the first thing he asks for in the morning and the last thing he goes to sleep talking about.  He carries a backpack full of trains with him everywhere, insists he's part of "team geotrax", and only cares to watch movies about trains.  What a goober.

Isn't that staged smile pretty gooberish, too?