Inch by inch, poop by puke

 The latest additions to house life:  kittens, porch furniture and plants. 

Kittens are obviously the most exciting.  So I’ll save the best for last. 

Porch Furniture:

2 Saturdays ago we were at home depot (like ya do once you own a home) and we passed by the end of summer sale furniture.  This cute little patio set was sittin there basically calling our name.  We sat, said, “hmm,” then left. 

Dilemma:

We needed furniture for back porch.

But we are also on a budget. 

But it is on sale and it is almost beautiful Fall, porch-sittin weather.

But we are on a budget. 

But if we don’t get it now they won’t have it til spring and prices will be sky high. 

But we just got kittens (which = expensive kitten vaccines)

But but but

End of dilemma resulted in the purchase of furniture after I walked by our empty screen porch and envisioned just how cute the navy blue furniture would look against our mustard colored house. 

Trying it out at the Depot

Assembling friends

PLANTS

Last Saturday we found ourselves back at home depot…where we will certainly be for many Saturdays for the rest of our lives.  We’ve been almost killing this hydrangea plant given to us by Gaga (my cousins’ grandma).   We kept forgetting to water it.  Then we put it out in the sun…cause plants need sun.  Then it looked worse.  It came time to plant.  (because now I know you plant things early fall).  And if we didn’t get it planted it was most certainly gonna die.  Off to home depot we went to buy it a friend.  It’s a good thing for Google cause home depot workers know NOTHING about the plants they sell.  We learned from Google that hydrangeas only need a few hours of morning sun.  Oops. 

Once we found the perfect, partially shady spot we started digging.  Then we struck concrete.  Concrete was apparently permanent and important (our house foundation extending from porch…and kinda ruining our plant vision).  No worries.  We got it done and had our first gardening experience.  New hobby?  That’s a little ambitious to say at this point.  The whole time we were working I kept expecting a car to stop, see how clueless we were, and come help.  At first, Joe was digging while I snapped pics. 

Joe—“No.  You are gonna put this on the blog.  People say ‘oh I saw you on the blog he he he!’  What do you say about me on the blog.  You make fun of me?”     

What else should I have done?  We only had one shovel.  Then, my turn with shovel.  (now I know it only takes ~3 minutes to get a shovel thumb blister)  

--Mother said you could always tell a lady by her hands.--  Scarlet

Weenie hands.  Need gloves.  Hopefully Gaga plant makes it.  It looks pretty pitiful next to Home Depot plant. 

 Home Depot Plant                                         

Gaga Plant

KITTENS

I have now had kittens for almost 2 months.  I have had 3 big goals in life.  1) Be on permanent staff at Camp Bratton Green-CHECK  2) Live abroad –CHECK.  And once those two things were fulfilled my 3^rd big life goal was to get kittens.  2 kittens--CHECK.  After a tiny, internal debate of whether to get kittens from people giving away kittens or adopt from a shelter I settled on going to a shelter.  Shelter trip was rough.  I’m already worked up and nervous about seeing all the sad, caged faces.  Sarah McGlaughlin might as well have been playing in the background.

Joe and I enter:

Front Desk Lady:  can I help you?

Me:  yes I’d like to adopt 2 kittens

FDL:  oh well let me tell you about Lavender, an adult kitten who is sweet, a little feisty but needs a good home.

Me:  (guilt setting in on my already grief-stricken heart as it listened to all the caged animals I couldn’t take home) –oh.. well.. I wanted kitten kittens. 

FDL:  oh ok.  First room on the right. 

(clearly, it is near the end of the road for Lavender)

Grrrrr.  How dare you, Front Desk Lady.   But from there on out all the “adult kittens” I saw were Lavender.  Joe and I enter first room of cats and I start crying.  How can I pick two?  Especially out of a cage with four.  Especially when Lavender is staring at me from every cage.  Joe did not know what to do with me.  We went to second kitten room and he walked over to this cage with two black and white kittens.  “Emily, what about these?”  I glanced over.  Saw that there were just two, young kittens and said, “yeah. Fine.  Those are fine.  Let’s go.”  I had to wait til the next day for the “adoption counselor” (aka this recent college grad who seemed way in over her head) to do all the paper work.  I wanted to say, “Excuse me?  you want me to wait a day?... Y’all do want to get rid of animals here right?” 

Apparently there is an application process and an application was already in on “Charles.”  But my application won since I wanted them both.  Charles and Dudley were there shelter names.  New names:  Charles Mooey Poppins and Dudley Richard Parker. They go by Moo and Richard Parker.  Moo, cause he looks like a cow and just watch Life of Pi for explanation of Richard Parker.  Do not call him Richard.  Or RP.  It’s Richard Parker.  But you are welcome to say it with an Indian accent. 

So far they are still confined to our bathroom at night.  They are mainly inside cats for now… until their neuter date.  They still just wanna play throughout the night and Moo is very vocal.  He meows if he finds himself alone.  And one of his self-comforting habits is to gently gnaw on my fingers.  So bathroom it is for now. 

Another problem –and this is gross—is Richard Parker’s poo.  One Monday night I was about to leave when I saw Richard Parker going #2 in litter box.  Then I saw the last of his poo still hanging on.  It’s ok.  It’ll fall.  Oh no.  It’s not falling.  And now the kitten is on the move.  Crap.  I grab a paper towel, slam the bathroom door shut, grab cat ..but I know, even as I go to grab the swinging poop, that this is a bad idea.  I only end up smearing most of the poop into his white hiney.  Crap.  I run the tub water.  This is going to get ugly.  I throw a towel in the tub cause I heard cats hate slippery surfaces during bath time.  Wrong.  Cats hate water during bath time.  There’s no other choice.  I can’t let my cat run around with poo on his butt.  I smush his rear into the water.  He starts meowing.  And frantically trying to escape.  I’m swishing and swiping with paper towel.  I gag.  Now Richard Parker is wailing.  Moo is on the other side of the door.  Now Moo is wailing.  For all he knows I am in there trying to kill his brother.  It sounds like I am killing them both. 

So the problem is Richard Parker had eaten (and not digested) my head hair.  And poo was dangling from said head hair.  I thought it was because their food was near my hair drying and brushing station.  I moved hair station.  But this hasn’t fixed the problem.  Then the other night Richard Parker pukes.  Moo starts to sniff the puke.  But Richard Parker is still puking and Moo is still sniffing.  Now there is puke on Moo’s head.  Now Richard Parker has stepped in his own puke.  A hot mess.  He puked two more times that night.  My theory is the puke is related to the hair eating issue.  Now I’m close to confirming the theory as I have seen Richard Parker gobble up two hair/dust bunnies in the last 2 days.  Next effort:  vacuum the whole house every day.  Today we found a little poop smear on living room windowsill.  We also have brown floors.  So if poop is hanging on and falling off in the house… we may never know it.  Until it shows up on our big white club chair.  I have never had this issue with a cat in my life of owning cats.  Besides this minor issue I absolutely love having two kittens.  Really I do.  They play with each other, bathe each other, pee with each other (even though they are getting to big to use litter box at the same time… this will certainly result in a mess soon) and sleep with each other.  The most beautiful kittens ever. 

3^rd life goal fulfilled.  Any suggestions for a 4^th?  And don’t you dare say human babies.  I am maxed out on things I have to care for.   

And now for cute fest.  (I take an embarrassingly amount of self portraits with them)

 

 last trip to the vet.   Gonna need separate carriers for the next visit I think.   

Things got a little crazy one Saturday morning when we slept in. 

  

Signs (and fears) of aging

Sure.  Signs of aging are all around in your 20's.  Outward signs.  Like weddings, babies, and other grown-up things.  Things we celebrate in the "getting old" process.  

At the beginning of June our friends Thomas and Madelyn had their 3rd baby boy.  He is a day old in this picture.  Joe is the designated small baby holder.  But Thomas and Madelyn would hear none of my "I don't hold small babies" declarations and they plopped him in my lap (with the aid of a pillow).

Little does baby Brown know all the excitement that lays ahead as his parents watch him age.  First steps.  First words.  All exciting signs of aging.

Claire celebrated (belatedly) her birthday at my house.  We tried to make it exciting... with a Reese's ice cream cake and candles.  But let's get real... we all know (and by WE I don't mean you people in your early twenties and younger) that Claire's 27 is not as exciting as Brown's first day on earth and his next 21 birthdays.  Why?  Because "getting old is the pits" --as Joe's grandma said.

I'm 29 (and a half).  I feel like the difference between 29 and 26 as far as "aging" is concerned is incredibly drastic.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it's more like 24.  But still.  That's only 5 years.  I guess the downward spiral has to start somewhere.  Why don't people warn you of things like this?  Just a little heads up would be nice.  "Enjoy those eyelashes now Emily... by the time you turn 27 they will be significantly lighter and thinner."  or "Careful with those eyebrow raises.  Those lines in your forehead will stick one day."  (If the next time you see me you look at the lines on my forehead ... I'll punch you.)

I mean, I knew it'd happen one day.  I'm not that dumb.  I just wasn't aware that it starts happening while you're still in your 20's.  When I first moved to FL (at the wee age of 22-23) people thought I was younger (18 .... one man even said 15!)  I was appalled he thought 15!  But at some point the switch flipped.  I became flattered when people thought I was younger than 27, 28, 29 or when someone ID'd me when buying alcohol.  Just like that.  Around 25, 26... something changed.  My main point is that someone needs to tell us these things!  Warn us when that switch is going to flip.  

It's funny.  We start off by celebrating these signs of aging.  Loose tooth?  Oh yay for you.  Bring on the cash-carrying fairy.  Look at that new ADULT tooth!  Send a note home from school.  Take a big toothy picture.  How about we have a "Wrinkle Warlock" --grandpa of Tooth Fairy -- and he could put things like wrinkle cream coupons under our pillows.    

Even puberty -- although it's dreaded for the awkward reasons --is still somewhat of an exciting aging moment.  We counted my brother's armpit hairs for a while as they sprouted up.  

I can still remember the day I FINALLY got to shave my legs... end of 5th grade (even though I had sneaked (I snuck?) a few random shavings before that).  No one wants to commemorate the day they first had to shave or bleach their chin hairs?  No, really it should be we celebrate the sprouting of those hairs and NEVER eliminate them.  Girls would dream of the day when they look like grandma.  They will look in the mirror and imagine where their stray hairs will grow and what their wrinkle pattern will look like.  

My most recent sign of aging (and the one I'm most comfortable sharing with you) has been my vision.  I noticed at the end of school (during the awful student presentations) that things were a little blurry from the back of the class.  Sure enough, the doctor says I'm on the brink of near-sighted-ness.  (Means I can't see things far away -- I was always confused about the "near-sighted/far-sighted" thing until I became labeled as one).  

Here's me after my first ever eye appointment.  Who knew they use more technology than just the chart on the wall with the giant E?  

Trying on frames... none seem to be promising in style (or price).

I quickly realized that I'll be taking my prescription to Wal-Mart for the cheaper frames.  The only real reason I might want to get them soon is night driving.... so that every dark blur on the road isn't interpreted as a suicidal animal I need to risk my life dodging.    

So all the superficial things suck (they really are "the pits"... grandma is sooo right).  Maybe other people don't think of them as much.  I'm gonna blame you, Mom, for this.  She's always said things like "don't sleep on your stomach ... you'll get wrinkles from your face being smooshed into the bed."  So every time I laid on my stomach I had this inner dialogue -- "watch out you'll get wrinkles"... "I don't care I'm comfortable I want to go to sleep."  .... "Ok well it's your face."   .... "Uhhh fine" and roll over.

And another thing... why the hell do we say things like "He's aging well."???  What does that even mean?  Basically it means you're old (or getting there) but don't look like it.  And if you're not aging well... ahh well, shame on you.  Pity on you.  Everything else in life is a competition and now aging, a process we all do at the same rate... 365 days a year, can now be done better or worse.  Most races you win by being the quickest, smartest... but the way to win the aging contest is to do it the slowest.  I hate it.

The non-superficial things suck even more.  You know, diseases and shit. 

On a weekly basis (at least.  Probably more.) I have some minor anxiety about getting old.  Which one of my grandmothers' ailments will afflict me?  Breast cancer?  Alzheimer's?  Multiple Sclerosis?  

What if I die first and leave Joe with 10 or more years left to live?  or the opposite? 

Visits to see grandparents (like this past weekend) mainly make these fears worse, and I hate for that to be the result of going to see a loved one.  But it is what it is. 

These fears make it really difficult to live in the moment-- which is all you really can do, right?  Enjoy the now cause you can't control these things.  

Well,  I say that but I did register on Luminosity.com --a brain website that gives you daily brain games to play and train your brain with.  A bunch of silliness really, but still.  Why not?  Fear is a strong motivator.   

So one night, when I couldn't fall asleep and these fears popped into my brain, I thought that I would blog about them.  Put them out there.  Maybe that would help them go away... or at least lessen.  SURELY I'm not the only one that thinks of these things at 29?  Surely I will not spend the rest of my aging life agonizing about every wrinkle or age spot?  

I'm planning to get kittens at the end of the summer.  Maybe that will occupy my worries instead of these others that have plagued me for the last 2 or 3 years.   But for those of you in your 30's... come on... spill it.  What's next?

Planes, plains and automobiles.

Example of the anthill I referred to in last post:

This pic is the girls of 5th period plus me... they were a fun class. 

Then it's ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sweet freedom.   

We are getting better at being hosts, and we really really like it ... We had several teachers over on the afternoon school let out.  And we had the two guys I play guitar with at church and their girlfriends over one night.  Here they are gathered around my granddaddy's table.  (My mom and aunt are looking at this picture and saying, "SEE, Look how many people can sit around a round, pedastal table.  You just can't sit that many people around a regular table as you can a round pedastal table...")

Some improvements have been made in regards to the house....

Like this new table in the happy nook

and these plants Joe planted by the mail box.

And just regular grooming and maintenance.  

So far, I haven't exactly found a place in the yard work.  My job has mainly been turning off the sprinkler and snapping pictures (from the window) of all moments when the husband looks extra precious at work.  

 As usual we started with Special Session 1 at Camp Bratton Green where we got to be married at camp for the first time.   Which means we got to stay in the same cabin... which really means we only have to pack one tube of tooth paste!

On our way to camp... Joe had been awake since about 5:30 (so excited he was)

 Then a few lazy days interrupted by a couple weekend trips to a bachelor party for Joe and a wedding in Alabama.

 Joe began learning Yankee Doodle on the mandolin.  

(we've decided we may need to get summer jobs next year.)

 This past weekend we went Nebraska.  NO, not to the College World Series to see MS State play baseball (my crew was composed exclusively of 3 Ole Miss fans and one "I don't care" fan).  Joe's grandmother lives there.  I mean, really, what are the odds we would plan a trip to NE during the exact time of the CWS?  Everyone in Omaha (airport people/ car rental guys) assumed that's what we were there for first.  But no.  Joe hasn't seen his grandma in about 8 years.  A couple months ago Joe watched some documentary on older people and it inspired him to call his grandma which, in turn, sparked some sentimental tears and inspired him to "plan" a trip to see her.  I say "plan" because for Joe this means calling up his sister Marguerite, encouraging her to come with her husband Chris, which ultimately results in her planning the trip for us.

Total trip:   Friday - Monday.  

Friday we ran into a 4-hour weather delay in the Chicago airport.  Joe is a somewhat restless traveler in the best of conditions.  The 4 delay almost sent him over the edge. 

A good citizen did stop and ask if he was ok.  

"No ma'am, he just does this."

Besides Grandma, I met 3 cousins (plus their spouses), 1 uncle and 1 aunt.  Oh and one new little cousin.

Saturday:
Breakfast... Uncle Randy has it prepared by like 7:30 even though no one (including Grandma) woke up til 8:30 or 9.  Eggs are room temp and unsalted (confirming the rumors we'd heard about bland, mid-west food).  Cousins begin to invade the house.

Morning Activity:   Boys go to car museum.  Girls do what girls do.  Pedicures.

Me and two cousins.

And Grandma got her first manicure...ever... at age 88.  She talked about it over and over again throughout the rest of the weekend.  

Grandma and Marguerite in below picture.  Marguerite said Grandma barely moved during the whole manicure.  She didn't want them to cut her finger off. 

The rest of the afternoon went like this:

-Eat at local diner.
    Grandma talks about manicure
-Walk through down town
-Dairy Queen
-naps at Grandma's - ooo and ahhh at the 3 month baby cousin that came to town.  Grandma
  shows off her manicure to the newest arrival of cousins.
-Dinner at Ruby Tuesdays
-Some tv time then bed time.


Sunday:
-Breakfast - same idea as Saturday.  Less cousins.  Grandma's manicure looks great with church outfit
-Church with Grandma... this made her very happy.
-Lunch - Uncle Randy brings KFC home.  We had literally just eaten breakfast.
-Drive to Grandma's old house and to see the assisted living place she hopes to live.  (This was a
  caravan of at least 4 vehicles.)
-Back to Grandma's.  Ooo and ahhh over baby cousin some more.
-All cousins depart.  Joe, Marguerite, Chris and I go to movies.  World War Z  (more snacks are eaten)
-Dinner - leftover chicken but Uncle Randy had provided us with Chinese take-out menus just in case.
-Park with Grandma.  Really pretty park.  Had a tower we climbed.

After eating and sleeping for 2 days straight, if felt awesome to run up some stairs. 

Things about Nebraska I/we noticed:  

-Pretty pretty land.  However we were disappointed that the corn wasn't full grown yet.  There were times while driving that we could've easily been cruising through the MS delta. 

-Lots of wind.  Little humidity

-Little to no black people.  Which we really noticed when at the movies a preview came on for Anchor Men 2... Will Ferrell makes some ass-like racial comments at a table full of black people.  I think if we'd been in a theater with more black people it would've gotten more laughs.  Maybe the Nebraskans don't get those kind of jokes since that culture isn't a strong presence in NE.  Or maybe it just wasn't funny.   Either way- I saw maybe 2 black people the whole time.  And one was from west Africa.  

-Top local news stories are about farming and reports of yearly deaths in giant grain holders.    

-If the southern accent makes a person sound a little stupid (even when he/she says smart things) then the mid-west accent makes people sound like nerds.   

-Nebraska dictionary:   guys and gals,  what else ya got there, oh my gash (pronounce my like "eye"), ruts (instead of roots), pick-up (not truck or pick-up truck.. just a pick-up), and "I suppose" used as a response for more than an answer to a question.  Example:  someone says, "Oh my gash that's a pretty pick-up"  you respond with "I suppose." 

-One of the cousins' names was Myra (I think spelled Mira actually) -- which I've decided is maybe the most midwestern name.  Much like double names are to the south, I think midwestern names need some strong vowel action.

-"Rednecks" exist everywhere.  But even though they look like rednecks in NE (jeans, boots, "pick-ups") they don't sound like it.  Look country.  Sound nerdy.  

Finally got home Monday night after a 14-hour travel day: 

3 hour car drive to Omaha

1 hour 15 min. flight to Chicago

1 hour 45 min. flight to Jackson

3 hour drive to Oxford   

buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I took several pictures of old pictures around Grandma's house.  I will leave you with one of my favorites of Joe's family (pre-Susan). 

Tied to an anthill

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One time, when we were like 10 and 12, my dad entered us (Dylan, Dad, and me) in the country club’s “Father-Daughter, Father-Son Golf tournament.”  A weekend long tournament with two kids who A) weren’t that interested in golf and B)were definitely not good at golf… oh and C) I think we did this two years in a row.   Not really sure why Dad did this.  I suppose it had its fun moments.  While it’s a very memorable experience, we (as a family) don’t necessarily refer to it as a fond memory...mainly because our baby raccoons were killed by the next-door neighbor-dogs the last morning of one of the tournaments. 

The best part of the whole thing was when the local news camera came around and interviewed my dad and the other dad in our golfing group.  When asked how the weekend had been my dad answered, “Oh, it’s kind of like being tied to an anthill.”  Needless to say they weren’t really looking for that answer, and in the final cut they used the other dad’s cheesy answer about how great it was to spend time with his son who was home from school, or some BS, and then just a brief clip of my dad swinging his golf club like a pro. 

This is what the last days of school are like.  Between state testing, AP testing and field trips… there isn’t a day when you have a whole class at once.  And even if you did, there’s no way you could do anything too academic with them.  Nearing the end of April you can start to feel the tension of rebellion building in their teenage temperaments as you hesitantly ask them to---read p. 212, do Actividad 9, or GOD FORBID take in new information you’re trying to teach.  Once they start taking daily AP or State tests…they’re done.  Not to mention you are also done.  You, as a teacher, have no creative energy left in you.  So you’re left with what can only be described as baby-sitting and as much as you’d like to think high school kids can handle just chillin’ and talking to each other… they can’t.  They are just as antsy and energetic as 4-year-olds at times.  Here is one video of Joel (giant, power lifting champ) coming up with an activity one day when 4th period had been held for like 45 minutes longer than normal (due to testing). 

So you gotta find something that keeps them busy but doesn’t require too much brain work.  My solution to this was to make them do presentations this past week.  Each Spanish 2 student doing a 3-minute presentation in Spanish.  Could water-boarding possibly be that painful?  Ok, that’s insensitive.  Water-boarding is OBVIOUSLY 1,000,000 times worse than sitting through 90 awful presentations, but I’m telling you…it was, at the very least, awful and something I probably won’t do again next year.  One kid mainly read off the multiple awards his baseball player won AND the year in which he won them.  (FYI, “1978” in Spanish is read “mil novecientos setenta y ocho”… imagine how long it took him to read like 9 of those off).  My students were even looking at me and saying, “Mrs. Maples, this has to be awful for you.  It’s been awful for us to sit through but you know how bad their Spanish actually is.”

My options were either terrible, torturous Spanish presentations or being tied to an anthill the whole week (instead of just these last two days.)  Neither option is ideal.  But at this point I’m writing this from the end of the tunnel.  Today was the last day of classes and it’s glorious.  You look back and think, “wow, not sure how I made it, but here I am…I’ve actually made it, and I managed to NOT cuss out a kid.” 

Sweet sweet summer is here at last.. well in a week it will be... when the anthill will finally cave and let me go free.  

  

Happy Nook, Prom, and House guests

Thing about living in a house #15) ---- The sound of people cutting grass ... This happens mostly on the weekends but the sound could also be during the week.  Back in apartment life you may have a crew of leaf blowers and weed eaters come by once a week... but that would just swoosh right on by in like 5 minutes.  The hum of neighborhood grass cutting can possibly be heard all day depending on which neighbor starts cutting when. 

In case I haven't made it clear, my aunt Bet is our interior decorator.  She gets the credit for what has been happening with our furniture, etc.   Over spring break she helped us pick out these chairs and fabric to go with our super fun kitchen rug.  Before we even moved into the house I had a vision for a little happy kitchen nook for reading, coffee, visiting, ya know ... all things happy.  So I've been awaiting these chairs even before I had them picked out in reality. 

Friday April 18 I get the call.  The chairs have arrived.... in Sherman, MS.  Joe runs home to switch out my car for his (small) truck during his planning period.  We thought we were set.  Didn't think twice about anything else we might need to get these chairs (and ottomans) home.  Sherman is only 40 minutes away.  

As they load the first chair into the back of the Ford Ranger we realize we are not all set.  All four pieces of furniture are NOT going to fit in the back.  We do not have any rope to tie them down.  For some damn reason this furniture warehouse does not have any either.  It's fine.  I'll ride in the back cab (no back seats in this whittle truck) and we'll shove the ottomans in the front seat. 

 Leaving the store.  Thanks for all your help, Premier (said with sarcasm)

Here is the best I could do in capturing my predicament.

                                                My view from the back

We thought we had everything under control.  I was watching the chairs (wrapped in plastic) in the back and Joe pushed the gas to about 55 as we pulled onto the highway.  The plastic really started flapping... and acting more like a sail than protective covering... just as Joe increased the speed one chair started moving.  The wind was pushing it back towards the other chair.  

I start saying, "Whoa... whoa whoa..."

Then it tilted forward and it's rear end was in the air.

"Stop STOP STOP"

Just as I was preparing myself to watch my new happy chair tip over the side and crash into 5 pieces Joe managed to slow the truck and the chair settled back into its spot.  

We pull over. 

Regroup.  

Lay chairs down a different way.

Poke holes in plastic. 

Joe tied one chair down with a measly little rope he had and I gripped the plastic of the other one through the back window.  And this is how we made it back to Oxford. 

The whole way I just kept thinking, please let us make it back.  I promise to never be this stupid again when picking up furniture.  Just let us get these chairs home.  I'm so sorry cute little chairs. 

We just didn't think it through AT ALL.  But here they are.  Cute as can be.  Little do they know that one of them almost bit the dust...or highway.

I'd like to say that every weekend morning we have been lounging in cute, happy chairs but that just hasn't been our life.  First, we had prom.  Prom is an all day set up.  Theme this year -- under the big top.

Joe has always had a secret dream of being a carnie.  His hands just aren't quite small enough for the job.  After seeing this picture I think he'd make an awesome cookie monster. 

Not only did we have decoration duty, but this year I also had beauty duty for Joe's sweet sis Susan.  She's a junior.  She has hair of gold.

                                                       And this PRECIOUS boyfriend. 

I volunteered Joe and I to be her surrogate parents and go take pictures of her and her friends.  (Joe's dad will have none of these shenanigans and even though his mom is a big band booster mom... she was clearly not going to the park for picture taking)

After picture time was costume time.  We owe all our thanks to Joe's mom.  She is a costume maniac.  She rented various props from a costume store so we could have options. 

Last year was Midnight in Paris and we looked like this. 
 

This year

                                 Joe juggled fire as the kids were arriving. 

It's possible we have even more fun than the kids on prom night. 

Thing about having a house (even a new one) #22 -- the shit that goes wrong (which has its own sublist of 5,987 things)   We noticed this lovely bulge in our base board (or is it a floor board... no definitely not floor....side board?)  by our shower.  We've identified the leak, gotten the plumber to fix it and are now waiting on the builder to come replace the now black and mildewing board. 

Thing about having a house #29 --- The waiting game.  It's impossible to play this game when you work.  I can't wait at the house for the plumber or builder to come.  Luckily Joe's mom is more than willing to help us out in this arena as well as costume making....and there's always summer.

It's possible we hold the record for the most number of house guests during the first 2 months of moving in to a new home.  Overnight guests include (in order of appearance):  Bet, Mom, Dylan, Claire, Grae, Elise, Andrew, Corey and Kathryn (and their two kids), Mary Robinson.

Then other friendly faces who were just passing through...

Kristen Doster...

Elizabeth Barnett

We hadn't seen those two chicks in AGES...


We've managed a little porch sittin...... but certainly not enough.  Look how inviting.  You can come too. 

Run Run Rudolph

Lately... lately has been crazy.

You know that scene in Home Alone... when they are in a hurry to get to the airport and "Run Run Rudolph" is playing?  THAT is how I've felt.  Every Day.  Pretty much every day since spring break.  From the time the alarm goes off it is like Chuck Berry singing in my ear, "Run run rudolph, Santa gotta make it to town."  (of course I googled that singer's name... who actually knows the name of the guy who sings run run rudolph?)

Joe and I have both been like this.  I looked at him the other day and said, "How do people do this AND take care of another living creature?"  Sue's pretty tulips didn't last too long.  I have a dream of owning two kittens come August...but that just may not happen til we get a grip on this fast speed at which we're traveling. 

Joe has some excuses... he's taking a class and in charge of the intramural program at school.  His Rudolph's got places to go.  I, however, am just trying (and often failing) to get to 2 exercise classes a week while feeding and dressing myself like every other normal functioning human.   True, school is still taking up a lot of my energy right now.  I'm really hoping 3rd year teaching lives up to the rumors I hear... that it is actually easier than the first two. 

As for working on the house... ha.  We don't even have time to really enjoy the house we've put together so far, let alone improve upon it.  I don't even have the energy to update my photos and post pictures of my sweet little kitchen chairs we picked up Friday (story later on how that went).

To top it off... I think we're getting sick.  And we have a wedding this weekend.  Joe has been in bed since 8:15 and he took a 2 hour nap this afternoon.  That's a sign right?  He's getting sick.  I'm doing my usual overdose of vitamins in hopes of heading the damn thing off.  Today, when my fifth period got back from lunch, I announced that we were having quiet time.  10 minutes of quiet time.  (5th period is 20 minutes longer than all the others.)  They loved it.  I loved it.  We are all exhausted.  We're having quiet time every day from now on.  Thank god for summer.  If there wasn't a summer, then something would have to give.  But there is a summer.  That's when it'll slow down.  I just hope my Rudolph doesn't run out of gas before then.  

P.S. I don't know why some of the words on my blog are underlined and orange like a link to something.  I didn't make them like that.  I don't know how to unmake them.