This is for the birds

Since today is the second snow day in a row, there's no school tomorrow due to a teacher in-service day and the boys new favorite activity is annoying the ever loving snot out of each other, I needed a little cheering up.  So I made some birds and hung them from the curtain rod/branch.  Much better.

Snow Day

Just sitting on the couch trying to make a dent in the mending pile when it occurred to me, how many people even have a mending pile anymore?  I'd like to think that most people can manage to replace a button if one should happen to fall off their shirt, but how many would bother to sew up a tear in anything?  My parents, especially my Dad bring me things to be repaired.  And my brother saves up all his mending to bring to me when he comes home from Sweden once a year.  Aren't I a lucky girl?!  Actually, fixing something so it can be useful again does make me feel good and... well, useful.  But really the best part about mending today is that while I was accomplishing something I also was able to listen to Drew tell me (in a very round-a-bout and lengthy manner) about the book he's been reading without wishing he would hurry up.  And I also overheard Ian playing with the 'Captain Underpants' he built out of duplo legos, which was epic and hilarious.  I'm so glad I didn't miss that.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - only a few words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  

                                                                                                        - Inspired by SouleMama.

 

First pony cart driving lesson.

 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - only a few words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  

                                                                                                        - Inspired by SouleMama.

2 boys + 130 chicks = heaven

Happy Snow Day!

Spring in Northern MI - flowers one day, a foot of snow the next!

I'm so glad I broke my 'no picking the spring flowers' rule.  We've been trying for 4 years to get the crocuses, tulips, and daffodils to spread.  Somehow in my mind it seemed like picking the blooms would hinder this.  I really have no idea why.  When the boys said "Mama, look at all the pretty flowers!  Can we pick some for you?"  I said no automatically.  Of course, I got a "Why?" back.  And then I started to try to explain my theory, which started sounding more ridiculous the longer I talked, and ended with me saying, "You know what, never mind, that might be the silliest thing I've said all week.  Yes, lets pick some."  Nothing quite like getting shown how trivial something is by a couple of 8 year-olds.   Now, I am so happy we picked them because at 5:42 this morning I got every child favorite phone call, SNOW DAY!  We got around 8 inches of heavy, wet snow.

I spent a good couple of hours this morning snuggled up like this.  I think M must be coming down with something, he never sits still that long.  So, during nap time today I kicked Daddy and boys outside, with Daddy under the impression that I needed the child free time to finish knitting items for the Easter baskets.  Really, I just needed everyone to stop touching me for 5 minutes.  My patience is a bit wobbly this week.

Why, yes, those are 3 foot tall snowballs in my front yard.

The boys wanted to make 'the largest snowballs, ever!'  This was as big as Andy could roll them.  The neighbor girls were so impressed they nagged their Mama into calling to see if they could play too.  There's few things that entertain me more than listening to the conversations these kids have.  7 - 9 year olds have crazy imaginations.  

The last snowman of the season.  I hope.

They also built me a fantastic snowman right outside the kitchen window.  "So you can look at it while you do the dishes, Mama!"  Clearly, Daddy did some coaching.  The real message is 'daytime child free knitting time = get out of dish duty.  I can live with that. 

Greetings from Plague City...the Construction Edition

Don't ever buy a house.  Really.  EVER.  Especially if it was built before 1920.  Oh my god.  I remember an idyllic time when I blithely said  "I want new flooring the kitchen and bathroom."  And I measured everything and went to my local orange store and bought many cases of pretty tile.  Which then expanded into new floors in the kitchen, bathroom, mudroom and laundry room since they're all kinda connected.  So I measured again and went back to the orange store and bought many more boxes of pretty tile.

No, I didn't just take pictures, I actually helped too!

Which then turned into "Well, as long as we're ripping up the old flooring (all FIVE glued and nailed down layers of it!) to try to level it out, we might as well swap the positions of the stove and fridge to improve the flow of the kitchen."  Which, of course, meant moving the gas line to the other side of the kitchen.  Which meant moving part of the plumbing to make room for the gas line.    Which also meant rearranging ALL of the cupboards so the stove and fridge fit.  Which meant that the counter top was no longer the right size.  Which meant SPECIAL ORDERING the new counter top since they no longer carry the right color in stock.  Which will take approximately FOUR WEEKS to arrive.  *Whimper*   All of which boils down to, I haven't had a kitchen since Saturday and probably won't for at least another week.  I have a crock pot and a toaster in the living room.  As of yesterday even the microwave is out of commission.  I might get that back day after tomorrow.  Maybe.  I get to run an obstacle course of kitchen cabinets in my bed room to get to the bed every night.  Oh, so much fun at 2 in the morning while stumbling to the bathroom!

My dining room looks like this.

 And to top it all off, Andy brought home a bronchitis/sinus infection plague from Green Bay and gave it to the kids and I.  Welcome home honey, thanks ever so much.  I feel like I'm living in some warped version of 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.'  I'm calling it 'Plague City....the Construction Edition.'

Dad FINALLY putting something back IN the kitchen.

Mushroom Hunting

Saturday found us wandering about Pigeon River State Forest searching for morel mushrooms, with Mimi, Poppa, Uncle Doug, and Aunt Suzan.

We climbed trees, found acorns (but only took home the ones with "their hats still on!"), played with sticks, and dicovered that you can write on birch bark with a twig.  No birch trees were harmed in the making of this photo....we only took the bark off of the trees that had already fallen down.  Drew confided that he thinks that "This is how the Indians wrote letters to each other, 'cause they didn't have paper."  I now have two scraps of birch bark on my desk that say "I love you, Mama," next to a jar of dandelions.  Perfect.

But most exciting of all, we came home with this:

Just enough for us all to have last night with our steak, and, oh gosh, were they good.  After reading 'I dig dandelions (and apricot blossoms)' by 6512 and growing, we also added a dandelion salad to dinner.  Ian wasn't impressed, but the rest of us thought it was great.  It might have been the perfect dinner, wonderful food, fabulous conversation, and the kids even used their manners so very well.  What more could a Mama ask for?