We're Gonna Bop, We're Gonna Bowl*

Last night when I was relating to A. how I stopped Jack from pounding on the bare wood floor downstairs with a toy, I noted that the floors seem to be pretty indestructible. He told me that they're made of maple, like a bowling alley.

YES. EXACTLY. That's what they reminded me of.

All we're missing is the gutter.

So I'm basically living in a bowling alley with three screaming small boys. Super. 

More rugs, stat.

And now, because I know you (where you=my mother) want to see more photos of the house . . . 

This is a very blurry photo of the upstairs living area, kitchen, and front door. I was standing near the door leading to the elevated porch.

This was the first place we put a rug. It made everyone much happier immediately, including Mia, who was wondering where the hell she was supposed to lie down in this godforsaken hard place.

Standing by the front door looking into the living room. To the right, you can see the Toddler Safety Nightmare Stairs descending to the lower floor.

Someone will fall down these stairs eventually. I can only hope he doesn't fall too far.

Maybe I'll take some photos of the lower level later to share with you. Try to contain your excitement.

* This song has been in my head ever since the conversation with A., but I really shouldn't be going around singing "We're gonna scooore tonight." Though I suppose the children are too young for the innuendo.

Slaves to Technology

I've never considered my children to be particularly dependent on technology for entertainment. They aren't really, but I sure am. Specifically, I am dependent on the occasional cartoon to get them out of my face for 25 minutes. But since coming to our cabin in the woods, I have not had that luxury and it is driving me mad.

I ordered a Blu-Ray/DVD player, but the TV at this house is so old that I can't connect the fancy new machine to it. There's a really old DVD/VCR combo machine here, but the DVD tray won't open. My Chromebook has no CD/DVD player on it. So that rules out DVDs.

We had the landlady cancel the TV service, because we never watch it. Because the kids always watch DVDs or something online. We had no internet service until yesterday.

We had nothing. NOTHING. A. has been gone since Tuesday night and the kids have been CONSTANTLY in my face since then.

I've been able to distract them for a little while here and there with some fun stuff.

Hooray for the sprinkler!

Can you see how big this zucchini is? About as big as Jack. They found several enormous zucchini and summer squash and spent a significant amount of time pounding on them with rocks, chucking them into a cooler full of water, and throwing them at each other. 

They also spent quite a bit of time pretending they were camping under a group of big pine trees by the porch. We've been to the library in the village. We're going to the pool in the village today. And I made some bread.

Sourdough, of course, just like my pioneer foremothers.

But there has also been a lot of squabbling, whining, crying, screaming, shrieking, running in and out of the doors, and general unpleasantness when I would have given ANYTHING for half an hour of Curious George.

The satellite internet was installed yesterday. I've never had satellite internet before, so I'm kind of paranoid about using up all the data, but I went ahead today and put on a YouTube video (on the lowest resolution to use the least amount of data, because like they care if the picture is kind of fuzzy) of Rescue Rangers. And it was GLORIOUS. Twenty-five minutes when I didn't have to talk to them once.

Alleluia, all hail the power of the screen.

In Which It Gets Real

After  an unnecessarily long trip back to the new house in the north woods on Saturday (it is road construction season, after all), we arrived home just in time to set up the kids' beds and have dinner before there was a knock on our door. It was our nearest neighbor.

Hooray for the Welcome Wagon!

Except instead of a plate of cookies or the take-out menus for nearby restaurants*, she came bearing her phone, on which she showed us a picture of the bear that was in her backyard the day before.

Oh. Welcome to the north woods.

She lives only about a quarter mile down the road, and the photo was taken by their motion-activated wildlife camera at 12:10 in the afternoon the day before. It was a really big black bear, presumably there to eat the berries. She said she knew we had small children and she wanted to make sure we knew about the bear so we could be careful with them. And maybe keep the dog inside.

Righty-o. Guess I shouldn't be letting the kids out by themselves to pick berries, then.

We haven't seen any sign of the bear since then, so we can only hope it's moved on.

I'm mostly unpacked; I've been to the grocery store and the village library twice already; and I am preparing to go to the cheese factory store right now to stock up on all my dairy needs, so we're settling in nicely. Assuming the (flaky) dude actually shows up to install our internet tomorrow, I may actually be able to use a computer at my house instead of driving ten miles to the library.

If you don't hear from me tomorrow, the guy either didn't show up, or I got eaten by a bear. Anything's possible here on the frontier.

* "Nearby restaurants." HAHAHAHAHAAAAA. There are none.

Grimly Soldiering On

Not to state too obvious a point, but DIY moving really sucks.

Thank God for the carrying capacity of a minivan, though.

Tomorrow we load A.'s trailer with the beds and a bookcase and the rugs and some other miscellaneous stuff that won't fit in the van, and off we go to the north country. Where we will unload it all with three children scurrying around. And then I have to unpack and find places for it all.

I'd better make sure the ibuprofen is in a very accessible spot. And the gin may ride shotgun with me tomorrow, just to make sure I don't lose it in all the chaos, you see. I think I'm gonna need it.

An Embarrassment of Riches

The floor covering of choice at Blackrock is Oriental rugs. Partially this is because the house pre-dates wall-to-wall carpeting by about a century, and partially because A.'s family lived in Saudi Arabia for a few years and accumulated a good stock of rugs there. In any case, every single room in the house has Oriental rugs covering the wood floors. I even contributed a couple several years ago.

Even the kids' rooms have Oriental rugs, because there are so many rugs in the house and some have been here for so long that they're in pretty bad condition. Which of course makes them perfect for kids' rooms, because you pretty much want anything in contact with small children to be disposable in some way.

Anyway.

Our new house has no Oriental rugs. But it does have laminate wood flooring everywhere. This makes for an unfortunate echo effect that makes me want to pull my hair out. Three screaming children in an echo-y house is no good. The first thing I determined to get into that house were rugs to absorb sound, and lots of 'em.

I knew there were a few rugs at Blackrock (like the aforementioned worn-out ones in the kids' rooms) that could be borrowed without affecting the overall collection at Blackrock. I was pretty sure there were some extras in the attic in Addy's room. So today I crawled into the very back of that attic and started pulling out Oriental rugs.

Do you know how heavy those sumbitches are? They're thick, woven 100% wool. They are heavy. I dragged out four before my back gave out. There are still at least four more in there. That's eight total Oriental rugs just shoved out of sight in the back of an attic. I think if I were to walk through the house and count them all up, there would be around 36 Oriental rugs of varying sizes.

Thirty-six. That's insane. Useful, though.

And Back We Come

Okay! The first whirlwind trip to the new house has been accomplished, with only minor meltdowns from Charlie in the car on the way there and back. (It's always, ALWAYS Charlie when it comes to meltdowns in the car.)

The landlady told A. she was relieved to have such a nice family in the house. Score one for the collared shirts! I'll do my best to keep our nice family from wrecking the joint in the next year, but . . . well, we may have to fix a few things before we leave. Hopefully nothing too involved or expensive.

The new house has a really not-good steep staircase connecting the main living area with the downstairs where the kids are going to be sleeping, which is not ideal in the case of our intrepid small toddler. That particular small toddler is also going to be sleeping in the utility room, so he seems to have gotten the short end of the stick in this particular house.

The high porch, however, is pretty great for early-morning blueberry breakfasts from a measuring cup.

Incidentally, measuring cups are excellent receptacles for a small child's snack, what with that handle and all. Still learning six years and three kids into this parenting gig.

Cubby and Charlie enjoyed finding their own red raspberries and blackberries in the ubiquitous wild bushes that line the perimeter of the mowed areas of the property.

This is the view from the aforementioned porch and those teeeeny little dots in the bushes just to the left of center are Cubby and Jack grazing on raspberries. 

The kids seem quite excited about their new home. A. is similarly enthusiastic, particularly after seeing sign for fishers, mink, deer, and plenty of other exciting animals that can be hunted, trapped, fished, and otherwise harvested in a satisfyingly mountain man fashion.

We're back at Blackrock this week to see some visiting family, and then we'll return north on Saturday. Our internet service isn't supposed to be installed until the following Friday, but I'll try to update here when I can. Because I'm sure your lives are all barren and sad without the randomness that I specialize in here on this unknown site.

Sure.

Catch you later, my lovelies.

Off We Go

In just a couple of hours, the Family Blackrock will be in the minivan and off to a place that is not Blackrock, but will be our new home.

It's about a five-hour drive. I'm not looking forward to the long drive for obvious reasons that I can spell out for you if want me to: Cubby, Charlie, and Jack.

Earplugs might be a good idea.

Anyway.

We're meeting our landlady at our furnished rental house so she can give us the keys, show me around, and make sure we're not a pack of feral animals that's going to destroy her home and its furnishings. A. is the only one of the family she's met so far. It's going to be my job, apparently, to reassure her that only three-fifths of us are feral, and that I have control over those rogue elements of the family that might, say, kick a hole in the wall above the bed (Charlie).

Obviously, any impression of control I might give is illusory, but I'm still dressing the kids in collared shirts and khakis, because I can at least make an effort to make a good first impression.

Honestly, though, I'll be happy if they're not shrieking hysterically when we all pile out of the van after the long drive.

Catch you on the other side, my lovelies.