Seven

Jack is seven today. He has a cold, as does everyone else in the family except A.

It's going to be a very snotty birthday.

But! There are Lincoln Logs to play with courtesy of Grandma, some very gooey-looking store-bought cinnamon rolls that were given to me by a student at school, and chocolate pudding to look forward to after a pizza dinner.

Happy birthday to Jack,

a fantastic big brother, a funny dude, and an all-around great guy.

Six

 

Happy birthday to

laid-back Jack

No More Pencils, No More Books

And this officially ends the most bizarre school year ever.

School ended this year via distance learning on Zoom, because that's what life is like now.

Charlie had his last Zoom class meeting at 8 a.m., during which his class had a pet show and everyone got to show off their pets. The other five students in his class all showed off their dogs. Charlie chose to introduce everyone to Dorito, the chick that Charlie named and that we're pretty sure is a rooster. Not a pet for much longer, I guess.

Cubby had his last Zoom class meeting at 10:30 a.m., during which his class showed everyone the kites they were invited to make and fly this week. Cubby insisted all week that he didn't want to make a kite--it wasn't required, so I didn't insist--but then decided an hour before his meeting that yes, he DID want a kite.

It was made from a coat hanger, a trash bag, and duct tape, and amazingly, actually flew about twenty feet for ten seconds on his sixth try running down the road to launch it.

Jack had his last Zoom class meeting at noon. His preschool class had "Cowboy Day" for their last class, which was hilarious because the teacher showed a bunch of photos from her own ranch and all the kids basically dressed in their, uh, clothes. Since 80% of them actually live on working ranches.

Jack's cowboy outfit is not his everyday apparel, but we do at least have all the correct items.

He was very excited that I let him borrow my hat, which I do not ever let my children use unless it's for a very specific purpose. Because anything they use gets broken.

Then we celebrated with some banana bread. I felt like I should make them a treat since they were missing their end-of-year sugar-binge parties.

And that was it. It was pretty anticlimactic. 

Our daily lives will change very little now, except I no longer have to nag the older two to do their math or force my very reluctant boys to sit still for Zoom meetings on Mondays and Wednesdays.

Ah, summer. You came none too soon.

The Woodstove Smackdown

All day, every day.

Charlie: "I suddenly completely understand Flat Stanley."

Christmas Photos

As is always the case on Christmas day, we had a merry day, but I am now beat and will throw some pictures and captions your way rather than trying to form a coherent narrative.

So! Stockings!

And very poor lighting.

Presents and general chaos!

And more poor lighting.

A brisk walk/ride in the early morning before it got windy.

Four children, two dogs, and a horse. What a circus. But good lighting.

And tamale making with helpers.

Which is why it took me like an hour to assemble 26 tamales, but whatever. Family bonding is the name of the Christmas game.

I hope your Christmas was merry as well, whatever that looks like for you.

Friday Family Fun: The Christmas Shrub Edition

It's the eve of Christmas Eve Eve! Are you all ready? Do you have all your cookies decorated and delivered? Your dozens of gifts all wrapped in coordinating paper? Your three Christmas trees decorated according to their respective themes and color palettes?

Of course you don't. Only Instagram does, and that is not real life.

I don't know about you, but in my real life, we didn't even have a Christmas tree until Friday, and it . . . isn't an Instagram tree.

I will explain. With photos.

Last year we cut our tree at Wally's ranch, since we happened to be there at about the right time while we were out cutting firewood. It was a pinyon, which is a nice shape for a Christmas tree. They tend to be somewhat small, but I actually prefer smaller trees--fewer strands of lights and ornaments needed--so it was fine.

This year, however, we thought it'd be kind of weird to randomly show up at Wally's now that A. isn't working on his house anymore, so we thought we'd ask our neighbor if we could cut one near his canyon. I always feel somewhat awkward asking for things like that, although our neighbor quite obviously did not care in the least. I know that because when I asked him, he said, "Sure. I don't care."

We didn't get to it until after school was out for the break, though, so we went on Friday.

First we had to climb over the gate, because the one we usually go through was locked.

This made it seem a bit illicit, so I was glad I had gotten explicit permission.

It was a beautiful day, very sunny, though it had been quite cold the night before. This meant that the stock tank near the road had a very satisfying layer of ice on it.

Who needs a fancy Christmas tree farm with sleigh rides and cocoa when you have a frozen stock tank to whack with sticks?

I left the family there and took my bodyguards with me for a tree-scouting sortie.

Not that they would be much help if there were a mountain lion, but at least they'd bark.

Unfortunately, we weren't far enough down to find the pinyons. The trees all around us were only cedars, which grow much more bushy than I would have liked. However, beggars can't be choosers, so I found the most tree-shaped shrub I could and had Cubby cut it down.

Then he and Charlie carried it back to the stock tank, where A. set it in the water while the children played some more.

Useful things, stock tanks.

The boys started climbing a large cedar behind us, so Poppy and I spent some time bonding with Odin.

Odin always feels safest when he's hidden. 

Then we brought our shrub home, set it up, and decorated it. I did this by wrapping two strings of lights around it and handing off the box of non-breakable ornaments to the children. This mostly consists of all the ornaments they've made at school over the past several years. So they actually did all the decorating. 

It really is a shame that my lack of an Instagram account deprives people of carefully styled photos like this one.

As you can see, our Christmas tree is more like a Christmas shrub. It does, however, have a very nice Christmas tree scent, and as the children were decorating it, Charlie stood back and said, "Now our tree is starting to look merry." So I guess they don't remember or care what our big, northern-grown Christmas trees used to look like.

Pretty sure all they care about is that there are lights on the thing and some presents under it come December 25th. And that, we can manage.

Five (and Two Days)

Happy birthday to

easygoing Jack. 

Talk About Timing

This afternoon while I was working at the school, Jack's preschool teacher came to find me to tell me that he was running a slight fever and not feeling well. There was only about an hour left of the school day, so he spent the remainder of the day under a blanket reading books in the corner of his classroom.

He was looking pretty miserable by the time we all boarded the school bus to go home, and by the time we actually got home fifteen minutes later, he was sobbing.

He tearfully asked me to carry him off the bus and into the house. Unfortunately, that was not possible, given my load of my own backpack, his backpack, and Poppy. Cubby offered to carry him off and just as they got to the bottom of the bus steps, Jack threw up all over.

A little bit of it got on the bottom step of the bus, but most of it landed on the ground*. He threw up again while he was walking the rest of the way to the house.

As sorry as I felt for him, I mostly felt relief that he did it somewhere where I didn't have to clean it up. It would have been a real mess on the bus.

Good job on waiting until you were in the great outdoors, Jack. Your teacher and I both thank you.

* A tiny bit also got on Cubby's hand, which is really gross and a poor repayment for being such a nice older brother.

We've Only Just Begun

Last night was the village Halloween celebration. Of course, we went, with the under-10 set in costume.

From left to right we have a very sulky Crusader king, a fighter pilot who needs a couple of years to fill out that flight suit, the world's most adorable chef, and a very fierce ninja in Converse. Plus a couple of puppies who are hopeful that the chef has some treats in that apron.

Part of the celebration is one of those trunk-or-treat deals where the kids go to (parked) cars and get candy. They also got candy at the haunted house. Between the four of them, they came home with this:

Baby Candy Bowl.

After the first day of treats, I always dump all the candy in that one huge colander. So that's the beginning of The Candy Bowl. 

Later this week, there will be a Halloween party in Jack's classroom, as well as one for Cubby and Charlie. And then on Thursday is the actual trick-or-treating. Soon The Candy Bowl will be overflowing into a Candy Bag. 

Given the rate at which I allow my children to eat candy, this means that it will sit around until about Christmas, at which point all the good candy (i.e., chocolate) will be gone, leaving only the unwanted DumDum lollipops and weird stuff like Atomic Fireballs, which I will throw out eventually. It's a tradition.

But for now, we have KitKats and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in The Candy Bowl, with the promise of much more to come. 

Let the sugar-fueled revelry begin.

A Day of Labor

Big day around the ole New Mexico homestead yesterday, where we celebrated the triumphs of the labor force by . . . laboring.

A. worked on the stone wall that he'll be building for the next, oh, decade.

He asks us to imagine the whole property surrounded by a white stone wall in the Mediterranean style. It's a nice vision.

I spent some time in the morning peeling and slicing apples to dry out in the sun--specifically, on the hood of the Honda, which is where I put the trays--and Cubby decided he wanted to lay in his own personal stash for winter.

I tried to tell him that HE didn't have to be up on the hood for the car to do his prep, but I guess he favors economy of motion.

Charlie "found" (drew) a treasure map and dug for buried treasure.

Alas, either the map was a dud or someone got to the treasure before he did.

Jack dug the Erie Canal in the sand filling A.'s trailer.

And Poppy got in his way. We all have our roles to play, and that is the role of the little sister.

In addition to my usual work:

Which almost always includes laundry in varying amounts.

I sanded and painted a dresser.

This dresser came from the house we bought next door. It's an old, cheap dresser, but free, and I thought it would be nice to replace the small, also cheap pseudo-dresser I got on Amazon for Charlie and Jack's room that doesn't actually have enough room in it for all their clothes.

The "new" dresser had some kind of incredibly ugly pale yellow varnish on it that I could not look at every day for the next twenty years, so I decided to paint it. First I sanded it, though, because the varnish was extremely slick and I didn't think the paint would adhere well.

I used A.'s power sander. First time I'd done that. Did not like. I am not a fan of power tools. Too loud and they vibrate so much.

Anyway. I sanded, then I painted.

Drawers in progress.

I painted it the same pale blue color that the outside of our house is painted, because Dale left behind almost a full gallon of the paint, and the curtains in that bedroom are blue, too. Yes, I used exterior paint for a piece of furniture, which I'm sure is not recommended, but hey, it's what I had. And maybe it will hold up better to the abuse that will no doubt occur in a room full of boys.

I even unscrewed the nasty-looking pulls from the drawers and painted them with some gold spray paint I already had on hand.

I was pretty proud of the egg-carton stabilizer idea.

And then one of the puppies--Jasper, and I suspect it's always going to be Jasper--apparently decided to inspect my work. I know this because I came outside about half an hour later and found that he had blue paint on one ear, one leg (the opposite side from the ear, even!), and his tail.

Despite the puppy interference, I'm pleased with how it came out.

Fancy (fake) gold pulls and all.

It wasn't a restful holiday, but it was very productive.

Future EMTs

This morning while we were outside, Poppy climbed to the top of the fence and before I could reach her to pull her down, fell backwards. It was a fairly bad fall, about four feet, and would have been much worse had she landed on the log that was just behind her or the hoe that was a couple of feet away.

All of the boys were in the vicinity when it happened--though none, unfortunately, thought to get her down before she fell, apparently. They immediately started running around shrieking that Poppy needed a hospital and then dashed into the house to set one up.

By the time I got inside a few minutes later with a completely calm and uninjured Poppy, her hospital bed was waiting for her and she graciously submitted to the tender ministrations of her brothers.

First they tucked her in securely.

It wouldn't do for the patient to catch a chill.

They all clustered around to minister to her.

She made herself appropriately pathetic for this.

They brought her her water bottle and fed her peanuts.

Peanuts are best for rapid convalescence, obviously.

They decided she needed to be transported to a different hospital and put her on the stretcher to go to the couch.

Amazingly, she thought this was fun.

Shortly after her transfer to the couch hospital she made a full recovery and resumed her typical role as target in all their chasing games. But it was a nice, caring interlude while it lasted.

Our Temporary Houseguests

Cubby and Charlie brought home some chicks from school on Monday.

Surprise!

Well, it wasn't a surprise to us, obviously. The chicks started out as fertilized eggs in incubators at the school, and Cubby in particular was keeping us apprised of their progress every day. I had to sign a permission form for Cubby and Charlie to bring some of the chicks home. So we knew they were coming, we just didn't know how many we would be getting.

We ended up getting four. Their names are Little Man, Little Princess, Buttercup, and one other that I can't remember. They were out in A.'s shop while the weather was warm, but as the weather took an abrupt turn to the very-not-warm yesterday, they are currently residing in the children's bathroom.

Poppy in particular was thrilled that the chicks appeared inside our very house.

They will, however, be going back in the shop as soon as it warms up again, because chicks smell. Yuck.

Our long lead time to this exciting event allowed A. to start repairing the old chicken coop at the back of our property. It's just a wood frame with sheet metal over it, and there were quite a few gaps that a hungry fox would have no trouble climbing through.

This being A., of course, he didn't just buy some more sheet metal to patch it up. Instead he decided to fix it with mud and stones. Because that is what A. does.

The nice thing about a project like this is that it doesn't require any power tools and is thus a good project for the children to help with. And they are more than happy to do so.

Do you know of any child that wouldn't enjoy sanctioned mud play?

Of course, some are more helpful than others.

But all enjoy the splashy fruits of their muddy labors.

A. began by just mixing straight dirt and water together--our dirt has enough clay that it will hold together this way after drying thoroughly--before deciding to add a small amount of Portland cement to the mixture to increase its strength and resistance to moisture. He put in an outer course of stones with space to pack in the soil mixture and will keep building in this way until he reaches the roof, I guess.

This is the first course of stones.

This is very heavy work and is going slowly, but even what they've accomplished so far has gone a long way to securing the coop. There are no predators that are going to get through a foot-thick wall of solid stone and mud.

It'll take awhile to get it all done, but in the meantime, the chicks are luxuriating in their bathroom sauna. 

Now we just cross our fingers that we didn't end up with four roosters.

Timely As Always

Now that it's the Tuesday after Easter, I think it's time to throw some pictures your way, right? Right.

So this girl woke up at 4:40 a.m., which definitely makes it challenging for the Easter Bunny to do her thing.

I guess she figured Jesus rose, and so should she.

Nevertheless, there were eggs* hidden outside to be hunted.

This is such a classic Charlie photo. Shirtless, with the joy of Easter just radiating from his face.

And there were baskets, too.

Chocolate crosses, peanut butter bunnies, calculators, trowels, and vegetable seeds. No jelly beans, because no one likes them. No plastic "grass" either, because that is an abomination.

After which I presented them all with egg salad and crackers, which they of course ignored in favor of eating all the chocolate.

I have fond memories of doing the same thing in my own chocolate-fueled childhood.

Then we got all dressed up and went to church.

Floofy dresses are a definite perk to having a little girl. 

Upon returning home we put the new trowels to work planting the miniature roses that were handed out at church.

Those trowels? They're Fiskars. The Easter Bunny had some help from the MiL on those, and now my children officially have better trowels than I do.

There was also a big planting frenzy by A., who helped the boys plant every single seed they got in their Easter baskets. So we now have about 40 hills of corn, five hills of watermelons, and a twenty-foot row of green beans planted. It's too early for the corn and watermelon, really, but we'll worry about that later. We can always re-plant if we have to, I guess.

Oh, and what did we have for our special Easter dinner? Not ham.

Build Your Own Nachos. Because I'm an adult and I can make what I want on holidays. There has to be some upside to this adulthood nonsense.

And there you have it. Easter is over and we are closing in fast on the end of school.

Eek.

* Incidentally, are we the last people in America that dye and hide real eggs? All I see anymore are the plastic ones filled with junk. I feel about those the same way I feel about plastic grass.

Many Photos, Few Words

I seem to have been taking a lot of photos lately and then doing nothing with them. And so . . .

It snowed all day on Saturday.

The tulips were brave.

As were our neighbors across the street: the horses and bull.

The boys were thrilled with the enormous snow balls they could roll. This is Cubby.

And this is Jack.

Poppy was slightly less thrilled.

Then yesterday, it was sunny and 70 degrees and all the snow was gone. The boys chopped down two and a half trees.

Because A. told them they could, not because they just went to town with the hatchet. Though I wouldn't put that past them.

Meanwhile, Poppy gave some of the farm animals a bath in a bucket.

Safely out of range of any falling trees.

And that's pretty much it. I think you're all caught up now. Over and out.

Wish Fulfillment by Mom

Charlie's absolute favorite books are the two collections of "Calvin and Hobbes" comics I bought for our cross-country road trip this summer. He loves Calvin and references him and his antics constantly*.

A couple of weeks ago while I was keeping Charlie company during his bath, he said, "You know, there's one way I wish I was like Calvin: He gets to have bubble baths."

Charlie isn't very demanding, and I think it didn't even occur to him to ask why he doesn't get to have bubble baths. The only time my kids have had bubble baths is at my parents' house. Because I am mean and don't feel they need to soak in anything other than water.

However.

Charlie doesn't ask for much and he's a good kid, so I decided to get him some bubble bath. Of course, being the sort of person I am, I couldn't just go to a store and get some Mr. Bubble. I don't want any of my children soaking in a tub of chemicals, but particularly not Poppy. Her eczema is much better, but not all the way gone, so I'm still very careful of her skin. Thus, I bought the fragrance-free, organic, plant-derived stuff on Amazon.

Poppy was very confused by the bubbles. Jack was enthused.

Charlie got to have the first bath. He was getting undressed to get in when he said, "Oh! I was so excited I almost forgot to say thank you!"

You're welcome, Charlie. Just remember this the next time I serve you squash.

* Of course, Calvin is a smart-ass and I've had to have some conversations with Charlie about not wanting to hear Calvin's smart talk coming out of Charlie's mouth. A favorite Calvin quote of both Cubby and Charlie's: "We're obeying the letter of the law, not the spirit."

I Got Spirit, Yes I Do

Okay, that's actually a complete lie. I have no spirit. Never have. I dislike dressing up, cheering at sports events, and coming up with cute ideas for theme days.

Unfortunately, I have to do all of that this week on the boys' behalf.

See, this week, in addition to being the week of Cubby's birthday and Valentine's Day, is also Spirit Week at their school, culminating in the homecoming basketball game tomorrow. So every day has a theme.

Monday was pajama day. Easy enough, although Charlie, being Charlie, elected not to participate.

Tuesday was dress as something that starts with the first letter of your name, or wear the first letter of your name and make words with your friends. Ooookay. Charlie came up with his own idea for this, which didn't make a lot of sense, but since he was willing to do it all himself, I let it ride. Cubby thought of something about ten minutes before the bus came, but it was too late and he ended up just taping his letter to his shirt.

Today is dress as what they want to be when they grow up. Super. As A. remarked, it's like having Halloween twice. And we all know I suck at Halloween.

However. I resolved to at least try.

Jack said he wants to be a construction worker.

Cubby said he wants to be a bush pilot.

Charlie said he wants to be a wild man (a survivalist without a job, that is)*.

So, with the aid of duct tape, construction paper, and various pieces of furs and random items, we have  . . .

I surpassed myself. Although surpassing myself is a pretty low bar.

Tomorrow they're supposed to dress as their school mascot or in team colors, which is fine, but they're also supposed to have mini-floats (made with, like, little wagons or strollers or whatever) for a halftime parade at the basketball game. Cubby made his at school with a classmate. Charlie told me, again, he didn't want to participate. Until this morning, when he decided he did.

So this afternoon, I will summon my fake spirit once again and help him make a float with Poppy's stroller and a "game board theme." Wish me luck.

* I resisted the urge to tell Charlie he doesn't need a costume for that as that's his natural state.