The Office

They've set up an office in the hallway.
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Tristan's is just beyond Sawyer's.
I'm not sure how they know what an office should consist of. The only one they've ever seen is Daddy's and he makes movies so it's not your typical office.
Let's see how well they did:
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Keys, card pass, pen, scribbled notes, wallet, and a timer dial face.
Check.
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Important documents, adding machine.
Check.
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Envelopes, kaleidoscope, Rocks and Minerals Reference Guide, spare computer part.
Check.
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Laptop,
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Knick-knack,
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Communicator watch, walkie-talkie,
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Secret Journal.
Check, check, check.
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Uh-oh. They've made a mistake on this last one. Unless it's from all those Spy shows they've seen...

He tried to take this to church yesterday. "Sawyer, you can't take a bridge to church."
"It's not a bridge, it's a gun."
Oh. In that case...

Gun,
Check.

They Are So Happy...

Guess what tomorrow is?
It's Clean the House Day.
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This is generally how they look when I tell them.
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Even though we have cleaning the house down to a science, the announcement never fails to generate disbelief. It goes something like this:
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"What?! Tomorrow? We just cleaned the house!"
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Sawyer's job is dusting. He and Tristan do the tables, sills and heaters.
Sawyer also has to clean the foyer free of shoes.
And even though the job probably takes less than 15 minutes, the feelings it provokes could fill a whole hour--
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They Got to See the Marsh

Julie and the kids came to our neck of the woods.
We took them to the Marsh and the Island of Nuns.
We made lots of discoveries.
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The rest of the group had already moved down the path, but guess what these sweet little girls wanted to linger by? (Tristan had to run back to get them.)
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Mr. Dead Mole.
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Further on we saw this cool red dragonfly. He only fluttered away to land on my finger. He was very friendly.
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Look, Mom. It sticks.
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If you looked over the wooden railing you saw frogs. How many here?
Frogs have amazing camouflage.
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As do other native wildlife. This is the seldom seen Greysonia sillania.
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Tristonia rambuctious is commonly found in the Refuge.
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Early on, we saw a flock of Wontfollowus wantostays in the trees.
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And later, the same flock sunning on some rocks.
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I'll have to come back sometime, and take advantage of the great scenery to do a shoot with my kids.

New 'Do.

"Mom! Look at Sawyer's hair! Did you comb your hair, Sawyer?"
"I like the way it goes over mine eye," answers Sawyer shyly.

It's embarrassing to admit you admire your own hairdo.
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But you can get over that with your standard deflect-attention-by-a-silly-face face.

Handful of Caterpillars

They found these in the front garden.
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It didn't take long to harvest them.
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Why are boys always holding bugs?
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Sawyer is begging for a pet and is forever collecting spiders in tubs. This time it happens to be a wayward Stink Bug in an available Playschool shape sorter.
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Whatever works.

I Can't Find Madagascar

It was as I suspected.
Sawyer was not happy with his "baby" ABC worksheets. The rest of us were doing Geography with cool atlases and questions to answer about the length of Maine's coastline (did you know it's longer than California's?). Sawyer could not be bothered with tracing the letter B while all this was going on. A few minutes later I found him surrounded by books he had gathered to mimic ours. He was sighing in a dramatic fashion, "I can't find Madagascar!" he complained, as if it were an exhausting endeavor.

This is the book he was using for his research.
The Children's Bible. English Standard Version.

First Day of School...

It's the first day of school and we're off to a rip-roaring start. The kids are playing games until breakfast is done. Breakfast is late. Technically, school doesn't start until next week. But we're trying to work ahead so we can take a trip. So it's not really that bad that we're getting a late start today, is it?

This is what they're doing, and this is what you hear:
"This is better, if you want to buy THIS, than you have to put, uh, this in there and you get one of these and this.-- OKAY, I'm buying a hotel, I'm buying a hotel-- and you also get to skip past go--who-hoo!!-- lowest card, did you put down a six-- there, you put it on that, and if I go on that then I have to give you, sixteen dollars!!-- yaaaaa!-- yahh, I win, I win, I win-I win-I win.-- four, five, six, seven-- DAISY! GO!-- she's a POOCH,--singing: give me the cards, give me the cards before I smack your little bum-- ok, all's in order-- you can't play here-- I"m not playing-- okay then get AWAY--I'm not playing-- AWAY stinky people!!!-- BUZZER'S RINGING!--Breaaaaaakfast!"

On Our Way...

There is an ice cream store in our neighborhood. Just a short jaunt will get you...
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This.
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I love the face of a kid with an ice cream cone.
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How many years does it take you to learn to eat one without getting it on your face? I never see adults with ice cream residue.
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And I'm glad about that.
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If this were a cone of spinach or wad of lima beans, you'd hear all sorts of complaints about the impossibility of navigating it. But when it's ice cream, they find a way.
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This is Not My Yard...

I wish it were. I'd like to have a big ol' draft horse on my lawn.


And a goat named Willy in my barn.
You know who'd like those things even more than me?
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My girl. But at least she got to do the next best thing. She got to spend a week with them at Horse Camp.
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Not alone. Caty from New Zealand treated her to the whole week.
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Everyone got their own horse. Here is Marlo, Kiki's horse. It wasn't until a few days into Horse Camp that they told me Kiki was riding a horse with a disability. If Marlo falls asleep, he knocks himself out and falls flat on his face.
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I'm glad they waited to tell me that, because, I might have worried.
Marlo?
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Marlo!!
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This is Caty's horse, Maverick.
He stays awake. And stays standing as well. A sensible horse.
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Kiki, what happened? Did Marlo take a nap and give you a dusting?
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Caty is worse, what is going on here?!
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Oh, it's the candy game. The finale to Horse Camp Week. Little gummy bear candies drowning in a communal sea of powdered sugar.
I remember breathing in some powdered sugar off of a doughnut once. I cough just thinking about it.
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It's all over now. They'll wistfully wait until next year and another camp....
Narcoleptic horses and wheezable powdered sugar, can life get any better?
I submit that it cannot!
(name that comedian)