A.P.D.--The Wretched Weather Edition

We have a high wind advisory today. I saw the wind in the forecast a couple of days ago and thought to myself, "Well, Friday is going to suck."

I hate the wind. Hate hate hate it. Much as I dislike the label "highly sensitive," (it sounds so high maintenance), that's what I am. This manifests itself in many ways, mostly in my reaction to physical stimuli. And there is no weather so unpleasantly stimulating as wind. It's loud. It's often cold. It pushes against me relentlessly. It's like it gets inside me or something and makes me crazy. I feel like the wind is assaulting me and I can't stand it.

I can't escape it by just staying inside all day, because Cubby claims to LOVE the wind. My older child is most assuredly NOT highly sensitive. He actively seeks out stimulation.

We don't mesh well sometimes. Especially when he wants to go outside when it's windy and doesn't understand why I have to come inside after an hour or so. HAVE TO. It makes me feel as if I'm in the middle of a warzone and my insides are spinning around and I'm going to go completely insane if I'm out there one more minute oh my god . . .

Not that I'm dramatic or anything.

I can deal with heat (albeit whiningly). I can deal with snow, with rain, with absurdly low temperatures. But the wind? Forget it. It makes me want to curl up and stay in bed all day.

How about you, poppets? What's your least favorite kind of weather?

Happy Halloween

My props pretty much ruin my costume:

Sure are cute props, though.

Halloween Failure

There are many things at which I excel, but Halloween costumes are not one of them. In fact, I unequivocally suck at Halloween costumes. It was kind of a relief to me when I realized I was old enough that I didn't have to worry about it anymore. Adults don't have to wear costumes. And I don't. Ever.

Then I had kids. And kids need Halloween costumes. Especially if their preschool class is going trick or treating at the village businesses. Today, which is obviously not even actually Halloween, but Cubby doesn't know that.

Good thing my mom totally randomly sent Cubby this astronaut suit last year that fits him perfectly now. If I were clever and good at costumes, I could probably figure out a way to attach this Earth ball thing we have so it looks like he's floating around the Earth. Or at least find the little NASA cap that goes with suit. But I can't find the cap and I am not good at costumes, so just the suit it is.

Charlie has no costume whatsoever. I thought about putting him in one of his plaid shirts and his denim overalls and calling him a farmer, but then I remembered I have to take him to the doctor today for his fifteen-month checkup and I do not want to be wrestling a post-vaccination screaming child into a button-up shirt and overalls. He's currently wearing a hoodie sweatshirt. Maybe I can just put some sweatpants on him and call him a gym rat.

As for me, I'm currently wearing black dress pants, black shoes with a heel, a non-stained, fairly dressy turtleneck sweater, and earrings. I showered this morning and did my hair. So you know what I am? My pre-child self.

I know. Lame. I told you I suck at costumes.

The Blackrock Boys Celebrate Fall

Abundance

A. recently vacated his home office, leaving us with a mostly empty room upstairs. Good thing, because we need the space for squash storage.

Guess I know what we're bringing to Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Squash, unlike most other vegetables, likes to be stored in a warm, dry place. I was unwilling to have any significant square footage of our downstairs living space taken up with a ridiculous amount of squash. But most of the rest of the house is unheated.

A.'s former office, however, has a pass-through vent in the floor through which heat rises from the woodstove directly underneath. So while it's not exactly tropical in there, at least it doesn't actually freeze. Good enough.

The only problem with this storage area is that it's upstairs. And not that close to the stairs, either. Which is why I spent at least twenty minutes today ferrying hundreds of pounds of squash from the garden wall, into the dining room, through the library and living room, up the stairs, through the back hall, and finally into the office. It took me eleven trips. Eleven long, arduous trips. And there are still a couple of squash I haven't removed from the vine in the garden yet.

But! The majority of the squash have been safely stored away from the frost we're supposed to get tomorrow.

At least we know we won't starve this winter. Or lack potassium.