Category Archive

Here are a couple runners-up (above). Below are a couple of non runners-up.

The next photo reminds me of an album cover for some oldies style album. Something like Beach Babe in the Field.

The Lonesome Hill Gang is about to cut their first CD, and we went up there this week to take photos for the cover art. We took over three hundred photos, and they have narrowed it down to three. The above photo is one of the finalist. Below are the other two.

So what do you think?

I’ll post some of the runners-up later on.

We wanted to give our nephew, Wesley, a good taste of Missouri. But when you’re entertaining guests from Florida, Missouri sort of pales in comparison. Not that I would trade it for Florida, but Floridians are at least as proud of their state as Missourians are of Missouri. So we tried to think of activities that would be a good representation of things that you can’t really do in Florida.

For one thing, you wouldn’t go wading in a stream like this, in Florida. Unless you like being gator bait.

For the same reason, you wouldn’t stand in the river and fish, so that is exactly what we did.

Which brings us to the part where Kinsley catches her first fish. And falls in love.

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That look on her face cracks me up every time I see this photo. She was so infatuated with that fish! Just after I took that last photo, the fish squirmed out of her hands and swam to safety. I imagine he told his fishy buddies “You’re never going to believe what just happened to me!”

Sophie in just her diaper. She’s oddly lumpy, and incredibly squeezable.

Storms in the distance.

The whirlwind visits of family from afar.

A conglomeration of nieces, siblings, and daughters. Can you see what doesn’t belong in that photo?

Simple fixes to concerning vehicle issues. It’s so nice to learn that the problem is an $11 part!

Evening picnics on Great-Great Grandma’s quilt.

Making do, in the good old Ozarkian way.

Sisters and nieces. They’re kind of summery, and I sure do love ‘em!

Fishing. We’ve fished in about every body of water in the Ozarks over the past couple of weeks, and Kinsley caught her very first fish. But that’s another post for another time.

Summer sunsets.

Swimming. Canoing. Gardening. Plump, juicy blueberries, warmed in the sunshine. Even the to-do list has a certain charm in the middle of summer. There is so much richness to be enjoyed this time of year!

As we were heading home from our weekend of shopping and politicking, we found ourselves driving into bad weather.

Which made for some interesting photos.

And an interesting (but safe) drive home.

Over the weekend (due to our husband’s being delegates to the state convention) I was lucky enough to hang out with Emily and her brand new baby Ellie.

Baby Ellie is a beautiful specimen of baby girl-hood with a smooth creamy complexion, thick dark blond hair, and alert, sparkly blue eyes.

She has the sweetest scent, and it makes you wish you could inhale her.

Her parents are very proud of her, and it’s perfectly justifiable. She made my babies look like massive brutes.

Journal Entry 5/19/08

As the sun peeked over the horizon and made its way through the window, onto my bed; it kissed my face. I thought of our weekend at Dan and Candace’s place. The highlight of our weekend, indeed! And how could it not be when sweet, little sunshiny kisses hit our cheeks on and off through the whole stay? And like the sun rises and sets, each kiss from our precocious little nieces, dampened our faces with moisture like the morning dew.

Upon our arrival we were enticed with a delectable menu creatively prepared by Candace, whose appetite for innovative recipes (influenced by the Confessions of a Pioneer Woman) tantalized our curiosities. She sited the recipes on her fifty’s retro, white enameled, metal cabinets. We gave our invitation of helping hands. She gladly accepted, but with our meager efforts she managed quite well; most of which could have been done without us, including a wonderful conflagration upon her busy stove top. Fireworks wouldn’t have done any justice; the excitement alone was quite exciting and entertaining! She calmly said, “What will put it out?” and I said hastily, “Baking powder! Oh, er…no, I think its baking soda!” Just like I said she could manage well enough without us.

We enjoyed a Cheese macaroni dish that consisted of green and red peppers, red onions, and…cheese! Brilliant! (That certainly didn’t give credit to the pioneer-lady, sorry about that), anyway, what ever was in it, sure pleased our palates…

…Along side this “palate-pleaser” was a beautiful, mostly homegrown salad (greens and scallions given by Grandma Brand of course) and arrayed creatively in a striking wooden, teardrop shape bowl was green and red bell peppers and…scallions! My brilliance strikes again, (she still could do better without my help). Let’s just say… you had to be there!

Oh, I did forget the stuffed jalapeños filled with…yikes; here I go again…cheese!! (Cream cheese…that is) At least they were wrapped with bacon and no doubt, deliciously HOT! I better quit while I’m ahead or am I? Uhgg, I left out the most important thing, dessert! Grasshopper Pie! There that was easy.

All in all it was very entertaining and very complimentary of Candace’s character. She enjoys the “far and outrageous menus” to which everything prepared was a palatal success, indeed!

Kinsley and Sophie, rug rats of the sort, displayed their precocious characters to the hilt. Crying and whining in a tizzy like manner, probably not even sure what they wanted or why they were fussing. They probably were mimicking what we “big” people tend to do, who knows. Their delectable nuance of character kept them entertaining at all times. Kinsley, in her own little world certainly thought she was the center of attention would carry on a “know-it-all” adult conversation; at least she appeared to have it all figured out, and maybe she did. Sophie on the other hand, puttered around with her two-inch length little legs, going from one thing to another; cloth on her head, ball in hand, examining crumbs and crying for Mama and her “binkster.”

We had beautiful walks down the city-park sidewalk, which led to the city park.

Our eyes found animated wild flowers waving their cheerful blossoms in the gentle breeze that tantalized and led them to the bubbling creek that runs through the little town.

The banks were also adorned with flowing, hair-like, tall grasses which gave a soft continuity against the rocky banks.

The activities of our stay consisted of basket ball at the park, without a basket ball— hum, “who would-a-thunk” (a Mark Jacobson term)? The only ball available was a soft soccer ball that Dan and Candace had…“Hey, whatever works!” The English family joined us there and all had a wild game of soccer-ball/basket ball game, they didn’t seem to miss the proper ball.

The playground was Kinsley’s and Sophie’s delight other than almost getting plowed on the court and totally oblivious to it all. Sophie found the slide to be thrilling and her face in an almost fright, gave “us” observing more of a thrill! Kinsley gave her Uncle Jared an exhausting time (to his delight of course) with her “peek-a-boo” games.

We headed to the Huzzah, I think or at least it was an arm of it, to slash on buoy-boards and plastic donut floaters.

It didn’t last long though, the water was too cold. Kinsley took it upon herself to release the “warm liquid kind” onto the only blanket we had to sit on. She thought what was wrong with that, it’s a normal fact of life!

Sophie examined the geological finds of ornate rocks though half her time was spent trying to balance on them which set her to get angry and think that it was her Mama’s fault or anyone who was near. My kids shivered and chattered most of the time, they didn’t want their Aunt Candace to get her feelings hurt you know.

Nathan took it upon himself to use Sophie’s floating ring and had a cute ride down some cute little rapids. He looked like an over-sized spider that found a nice spot to spin its web. Kind of gross with those hairy, spindly legs hanging out over the sides; if I had a fly-swatter I might have used it!

Gage and Glen, once back at D& C’s home, continued their racer-like bike rides down the sidewalk, dodging each other before a collision took place (I had to resign myself to whatever course it took, luckily nothing happened and they got to enjoy their uninterrupted fun).

Nathan and Eric took to mowing for Dan. I think they felt sorry for him; poor guy, he needs a break here and there; he’s a busy man you know! Ahh, gee (that’s what the kids would say)!

Nathan and Natalie were big helps in the kitchen washing dishes and mopping floors and at best helping with their tiny little cousins demanding needs.

We all found it a delightful weekend and a break from the monotony of our lonesome hill. Tears ended the stay for the little guys and following the next day, Gage didn’t unpack because it made him sad; he even said he was going to keep his toothbrush in there too, and didn’t see why we couldn’t just go back. He’d be ready if we had a change of mind.

To sum it up: “If you stay out in the sun long enough, you’re bound to get sun-kissed and better yet, if you stay out in the sun long enough with you nieces, you are bound to get the ultimate sun-kiss… ” — Aunt Paula of course!

On Sunday we spent some time with Dan’s brother and his family after church. We had a great time, listening to music, laughing, admiring the scenery on their beautiful property, going out for ice cream, and avoiding a tornado.

All day it had been stuffy, with about 200% humidity. We all agreed that ice cream would be an appropriate ending for the day. Just as we were about to head into town, a storm began to roll in.

But once you’ve told six children that you’re going to buy ice cream cones, you don’t let anything deter you. Even the possibility of major, tornadic storm.

As we were finishing our ice cream, the storm really began to blow in.

Dan and I had to get gas before heading home, but after two of the gas pumps didn’t work, it took us so long to get out of the gas station that we decided to go South, back to Eric’s house, rather than forging North, into the storm. Little did we know that we were driving right into another bad cell.

After driving a few miles, we heard on the radio that a tornado had been spotted on the county border (about six miles ahead of us, in the direction we were heading). Behind us, the tornado siren from town was going off. We tried to press on, but the wind was rocking our two vans so violently that we ended up puling off the road.

Unfortunately the people who lived in the house where we stopped have never, ever won any awards for politeness. The woman came to the door and told us we were fine - and that there was no tornado. She then told us we could wait out the storm on her porch, shouting over the roaring winds and tornado siren that “this is no tornado”. She even had the audacity to claim that her dog wouldn’t poop in a tornado. What sort of person would turn down a family with several small and terrified kids in that situation? Poor Gage kept crying “I don’t want to die!”

In retrospect, we were probably not in any eminent danger, but we’d rather be safe than sorry. The story about the family killed over Mother’s Day weekend when their vehicle blew off the road kept flitting through our minds, and we thought we’d play it safe by stopping. So much for Missouri hospitality!

Kinsley on the other hand, approaches live with much more thought and imagination. Many of her conversations begin with phrases like: “it seems to me…”.

As one uncle puts it, she’s the Dreamy One. Another phrases it “so many phobias, so little time”.

She preferred to stay closer to the ground on this particular evening, and pretended that she was eating “out”. We were cued into this game when Kinsley told Dan that she “had ordered already”, and was now “waiting”.

On the few occasions when she chose to slide, she was very careful to hold on to each bar in the railing on her way up the “stairs”.

Once she had reached the top, she thought carefully about her descent.

And often had to be coaxed down.

Once we left the park to walk home, she wanted to sit and “soak up the sun” in a safe place - “are there no ticks here, Papa?”

Sophie, who had no patience for this, decided to get on with things.

Baby Feet

Tell me, what is half so sweet
As a baby’s tiny feet,
Pink and dainty as can be,
Like a coral from the sea?

Talk of jewels strung in rows,
Gaze upon those little toes,
Fairer than a diadem,
With the mother kissing them!

It is morning and she lies
Uttering her happy cries,
While her little hands reach out
For the feet that fly about.
Then I go to her and blow
Laughter out of every toe;
Hold her high and let her place
Tiny footprints on my face.

Little feet that do not know
Where the winding roadways go,
Little feet that never tire,
Feel the stones or trudge the mire,
Still too pink and still too small
To do anything but crawl,
Thinking all their wanderings fair,
Filled with wonders everywhere.

Little feet, so rich with charm,
May you never come to harm.
As I bend and proudly blow
Laughter out of every toe,
This pray, that God above
Shall protect you with His love,
And shall guide those little feet
Safely down life’s broader street.

Edgar Allen Guest

From Beauty and the Bath

After “swimming” in the wading pool, Sophie fell asleep in the warm sunshine. As she lay against my chest, I just wanted to inhale her. She smelled of sunshine and sunscreen. Her skin was all rubbery and soft, like a stress ball. Which is good, because she tends to make me need a stress ball.

After admiring her tangled, strawberry blond curls, and her sweeping eyelashes, Natalie photographed the sweet, sleeping fairy.

See that chubby little wrinkle on the back of Sophie’s knee? That is Dan’s favorite part. It is pretty gooey, don’t you agree? I think it may be the only bit of chub on either daughter.

“They always had flowers of some kind on the dinner table . . . it gave the one little festive touch now that showed a woman had been at work trying to make things beautiful.”

~Grace Livingston Hill

We filled the girls’ wading pool over the weekend, which has thrilled both girls beyond all imagination.

The water seemed especially photogenic (if water can be photogenic), and I think I actually took more photos of the water, than I took of the girls. Poor neglected things.

Nathan entertained the girls (and myself) by “squeezing the water”, as Kinsley phrases it.

At first, there was some concern about the cold-ness of the water.

But, they eventually overcame that, and managed to have a grand time.

The water also served as a very nice reflector for photographing small water fairies that happened to be in the pool.

Kinsley wants to spend every waking moment out in the pool, now.

I recently learned that I have been obsessed with something before I ever knew it existed, That is, if you can know that you are obsessed with something even if you aren’t even aware of the real existence of the object of your obsession? I don’t know if that makes any sense, so I’ll stop the commentary.

“Bokeh (from the Japanese boke ボケ, “blur”) is a photographic term referring to the appearance of out-of-focus areas in an image produced by a camera lens. It is pronounced (Boke-aay)”

Read more on Bokeh from Wikipedia.

I recently learned this term from Miz Booshay, who was guest blogging over at the Pioneer Woman’s Photography Blog. Somehow, learning that there is a term for “that nice, blurry background” which I love so much, was exciting to me (I’m fairly easy to please).

While I have a lot to learn before I can grasp the technical side of Bokeh, I am content to know that the idea exists, and have begun to notice it more in my photos. I find that I get much more pleasing bokeh when I use my 50mm f1.8 than when I use my 18-200mm 1:3.5-6.3, which I think makes sense.

Would it be possible to see these photos and not notice the pleasing, twinkly background?

Cheerfulness is a Beauty which every body admires. A cheerful spirit is a continual feast. It smiles its way through life. It wins crowns for its possessor. It makes and gives happiness. All sunshine and flowers is a cheerful heart. It shines in perpetual spring. Its birds are ever singing, and its joys ever new.

From a text entitled Aims and Aids for Girls and Young Women, written in 1856 by George Sumner Weaver

We’ve been cooped up for so long now, with the flu, and all this rain. When we went outside this afternoon to hang laundry, I forced both girls to join me, though they were very skeptical of this warm bright stuff filling the air and sky.

Once outside, the girls blinked and looked around like cave dwelling critters. They slowly began to adapt though, and managed to have a fine time after all.

Kinsley found some columbine, and brought Sophie a fist full, instructing her that “this is good to eat.”

I spotted this in the stump of a tree which Dan cut down last fall.

This statuette stood out to me when we visited the Art Museum for Dan’s birthday. It was entitled, simply, “Charity”. It struck me especially because the example of Charity in this case was a mother with two small children, and I immediately felt empathy with the statue. Then I thought again about the whole idea of allure and how it actually relates to the character of Charity, in that both require true self sacrifice.

In other words, in order to be a queen, I must simply embrace what God has given me to do, with the Spirit of Christ ruling my actions.

In WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE WORLD, G.K. Chesterton paints a vivid picture of the importance of the mother’s role:

“Our old analogy of the fire remains the most workable one.
The fire need not blaze like electricity nor boil like boiling water;
its point is that it blazes more than water and warms more than light.
The wife is like the fire, or to put things in their proper proportion,
the fire is like the wife. Like the fire, the woman is expected
to cook: not to excel in cooking, but to cook; to cook better
than her husband who is earning the coke by lecturing on botany
or breaking stones. Like the fire, the woman is expected to tell
tales to the children, not original and artistic tales, but tales–
better tales than would probably be told by a first-class cook.
Like the fire, the woman is expected to illuminate and ventilate,
not by the most startling revelations or the wildest winds of thought,
but better than a man can do it after breaking stones or lecturing.
But she cannot be expected to endure anything like this universal
duty if she is also to endure the direct cruelty of competitive or
bureaucratic toil. Woman must be a cook, but not a competitive cook;
a school mistress, but not a competitive schoolmistress;
a house-decorator but not a competitive house-decorator; a dressmaker,
but not a competitive dressmaker. She should have not one trade but
twenty hobbies; she, unlike the man, may develop all her second bests.
This is what has been really aimed at from the first in what
is called the seclusion, or even the oppression, of women.
Women were not kept at home in order to keep them narrow;
on the contrary, they were kept at home in order to keep them broad.
The world outside the home was one mass of narrowness,
a maze of cramped paths, a madhouse of monomaniacs.
It was only by partly limiting and protecting the woman that she
was enabled to play at five or six professions and so come almost
as near to God as the child when he plays at a hundred trades.
But the woman’s professions, unlike the child’s, were all truly
and almost terribly fruitful;…

…it is not difficult to see… why the female became the emblem
of the universal and the male of the special and superior.
Two gigantic facts of nature fixed it thus: first, that the woman
who frequently fulfilled her functions literally could not be
specially prominent in experiment and adventure; and second,
that the same natural operation surrounded her with very young children,
who require to be taught not so much anything as everything.
Babies need not to be taught a trade, but to be introduced to a world.
To put the matter shortly, woman is generally shut up in a house
with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions
that there are, and some that there aren’t. It would be odd
if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist.
“

Charity, as defined by Webster:

1:
1. Love; universal benevolence; good will. 2: 4. Whatever is bestowed gratuitously on the needy or suffering for their relief; … any act of kindness.

With that, Happy Mother’s day! May you take joy in the sphere with which God has blessed you.

I have been very fascinated by these little flowers (or weeds?) this spring. I seem to be obsessed with photographing them, and both girls have a new appreciation for them.

I have heard that the dandelion is supposed to be a good measuring device for all sorts of things.

Weather:

“The dandelion is an excellent barometer, one of the commonest and most reliable. It is when the blooms have seeded and are in the fluffy, feathery condition that its weather prophet facilities come to the fore. In fine weather the ball extends to the full, but when rain approaches, it shuts like an umbrella. If the weather is inclined to be showery it keeps shut all the time, only opening when the danger from the wet is past.” Says “Camping For Boys” by H.W. Gibson

The time:

“The dandelion is called the rustic oracle; its flowers always open about 5 A.M. and shut at 8 P.M., serving the shepherd for a clock.” “The Child and Childhood in Folk-Thought” by Alexander F. Chamberlain

And, last but not least, Love:

It’s said that if you can blow all the seeds off with one blow, then you are loved with a passionate love. If some seeds remain, then your lover has reservations about the relationship. If a lot of the seeds still remain on the globe, then you are not loved at all, or very little. Source: “Unusual Vegetables, Something New for this Year’s Garden,” Rodale Press Emmaus, PA.

Maybe I need to make something of this obsession. Have you ever made dandelion wine? I’m considering this recipe.

“Dear common flower, that grow’st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May.”
~ Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

It was sort of a second (or third) celebration of Dan’s birthday. We settled ourselves into the backyard for some watermelon and observation.

Sophie seemed to prefer the green stuff on the bottom of the rind.

Kinsley noticed that the melon was the same color as her new shoes.

Today we met with a few other homeschooling families at the park for the first picnic of the season (for us, anyway). I thought the girls were unusually charming today, and couldn’t stop taking photos.

Kinsley thought the idea of sliding sounded really fun, but couldn’t actually bring herself to go down the slide. “Mama!” she called to me, “Do you think I will conk my head?”. As her Uncle Eric would say, so many phobias, so little time…

Sophie tried to play it cool.

In reality she reminded me of Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace.

Silas gave Kinsley some sort of weapon and instructed her on the art of sword fighting.

Which seemed to bore Sophie immensely.

The line down Kinsley’s face is the result of a run-in she had with Frances, involving the door frame. Oddly enough, that wound hasn’t been nearly the trauma as the skinned knee. I think it has to do with the fact that she can’t see the scratch on her face, where as she can look at the scratch on her knee whenever she feels like it. Poor little thing.

All in all, I think they had a great time. They both crashed as soon as we got home.

I have been a long time reader of Alison’s blog, Brocante Home Chronicles. She is a big proponent of what she calls the Puttery Treat, an idea which I find very enticing.

Then, today I was glancing over Sense and Sensibility (a message forum geared toward historical sewing), an off-topic thread entitled: Taking Care of Yourself as a Mum… got me started thinking.

The train of thought went something like this:

I have a moment every now and then to relax, and when that time comes, I’m usually so overwhelmed that I don’t know what to do, and so waste that moment staring blankly at the computer screen (sad, but true). So, if I wrote down some of the great ideas which the lovely ladies at the S&S forum had given, as well as some of my favorite puttery treats, along with a few of my very own ideas, I could put them all in a pretty jar on my window sill and draw a slip of paper out when I had the time. But next I thought that I could also keep the list right here on Gentlewood Cottage, where I could refer back to it, and add or subtract to the master list as I see fit. Then, the thought struck me, that if I had a copy of the list online anyway, I could copy and paste it into Random.org’s list randomizer, and come up with a single treat that way as well.

So, that’s the long explanation for the list which you will find below.

:: Find a pretty water glass to help motivate me to drink plenty. Add mint leaf or a slice of lemon, lime, or orange in it for prettiness and taste.

:: Go for a walk. Attempt to indulge all five senses on the walk. Watch the clouds, keep an eye out for little critters, new wildflowers, and birds, stop and breathe in the smells, touch the various barks and leaves, listen to the music of the birds and insects, pluck some of the wild raspberries along the pathway.

:: Do a workout video

:: Listen to some classical music with the girls while stretching.

:: Fold a pretty tea towel in half and sew together. Make half inch hems either end and thread elastic through, before adding a ribbon loop and feeling virtuous because now you have a pretty place to store those plastic bags which seem to multiply in our home.

:: Demote a blanket to garden duty and leave it folded in a basket near the back door for chilly Spring evenings outside. Allocate a garden pinny and hang it from a ribbon tied laundry peg on your doorknob.

:: Chill fruit tea in the fridge as you do your housework, then sit down with a pretty little cup and the morning paper as reward for scrubbing the bath so wonderfully well you can see your reflection in it.

:: Make a drama out of lunchtime…select a beautiful tray and the bestest china you own, add a napkin and a tiny bud vase, and sit quietly, meditatively, as you eat…

:: Use white vinegar and a cotton bud to clean the crevices of your phone. (The blasted things get soooo grubby don’t they?) Then give the whole thing a gentle swipe with a cloth scented with lavender or orange blossom.

:: Clean out the girls dresser drawers and add a cotton ball soaked in lavender

:: Hunt out an old fashioned enamel coffee pot and use it to water your houseplants while you wait for the kettle to boil in the morning…

:: Dust your light bulbs with a cloth infused with aromatherapy oil for a gentle scent when you switch them on…

:: Choose a pretty teacup and use it to scoop washing powder into the machine.

This tree was found blooming in my grandparent’s back yard. I’m ashamed to say that I have no idea what it is, but I did think it lovely!

Well, it’s Day Three of the Non Binkster Week. We’ve had two meltdowns today, but seem to be making it through the withdraws fairly well.

Today’s event (which Kinsley has taken to calling “The Small Non Binkster Parties” which are not to be confused with the “Big Non Binkster Party” to be held on Sunday) was a trip out Marme and Granddad’s, stopping by the office first to have lunch with Papa.

Marme’s garden is starting to bloom with all sorts of beautiful flowers. As it turned out, Sophie was more interested in meandering through Marme’s stone walkways with me then Kinsley was. Kinsley was interested in swinging.

Or “feenging” as Kinsley calls the sport.

Sophie would squat, study each flower intensely, touch it, and move onto the next.

After a while, she lost interest and wanted to “feeng” too.

Sophie made a very important discovery. Her shadow. She squealed at it with glee, at which point Kinsley announced “Mama, we are so excited!”

We’ve been attempting to get the girls outdoors, now that the weather is becoming more agreeable. Papa is planning to start beehives this spring, and has spent a good deal of time explaining what it is that bees do. Kinsley has apparently taken it all in, because she explained to our librarian (in great detail) how it all works.

This morning, she was reading an Usborne book of spring-ish things, and was commenting on how the flowers have to grow so that the bees can carry the pollen. It got my wheel turning about a little science lesson which she might be interested in, so we pulled on our crocs and set out to the back yard, armed with two pots, a spoon, some Larkspur seeds, the Usborne book, and of course, the camera.

After waving at the neighbor’s dog, sampling the various grasses, and searching for a good spot with soft dirt, we settled in. I read over the page about how a seed grows, and then helped the girls fill their pots with moist, sweet smelling soil.

Kinsley dreamily pressed her soil into her pot, commenting about Cardinals and Robins.

Sophie packed her soil into the pot with much intensity.

I gave them each several seeds to put in their pots…

…and then dug out a bit of soil to sprinkle over the top. At this point, we found an earthworm. The girls were delighted and terrified at the same time. In an odd way, it made me think of all the people throughout the Bible who found themselves face to face with an angel. Don’t you imagine that they would feel a mixture of terror and delight? Anyway, I tried to explain what a worm does, put I think I lost ‘em on that one. They were too busy squealing with laughter and jumping backwards to get away from the worm to listen.

Once inside, we carefully watered the pots, and placed them in the kitchen window sill to nap in the sunshine.

Kinsley is having an Anti-Binkster week. It began with the ceremony of driving out to Granddad’s office to leave the binkster in a pretty gift bag, tacked to his bulletin board. Granddad has been a great proponent of Binkster Weaning, and Kinsley knows that. She often makes commentary about this or that thing which Granddad will do “if I don’t have my binkster in my mouth” and she always point out to him when she doesn’t have her binkster in her mouth.

We agreed that we would have a Non-Binkster Party at the end of the week, Grandma has promised a few presents, and Papa and I have promised that Kinsley will be allowed to chose a (small) gift for herself, upon the completion of seven days without a binkster.

Papa and I have tried to bring small rewards into our daily activities, pointing out that each one is another milestone she has reached because now she’s a big girl and no longer needs her binkster.

On day one, we set up a “big bed” in Kinsley and Sophie’s room. Kinsley has been thrilled, and has drug every single relative who has stepped through our door. She announces that this is a Non-Binkster Big Girls Bed.

So, all that to explain these photos of the girls’ bedroom.

We’ve painted some old furniture, brought in a few new things, and rearranged everything. In a very Non-Binkster sort of way.

Native to North America and Canada with cousins in Europe and Asia. First cultivated in 1811. The Spaniards noted Redbuds and made distinctions between the New World species and their cousins in the Mediterranean region in 1571. George Washington reported in his diary on many occasions about the beauty of the tree and spent many hours in his garden transplanting seedlings obtained from the nearby forest.

Spectacular spring blossoms. The seeds provide winter food for birds. An excellent tree for planting near utility lines. Provides good shade when planted near patios. Well known for its beauty, it is the state tree of Oklahoma. Rosy pink flowers appear in April. Reddish-purple leaves change to dark green, then to yellow. Forms a spreading, graceful crown

Northern bobwhite and a few songbirds, such as chickadees, will eat the seeds, and it can be used for nesting sites and nesting materials, it also provides shelter for birds and mammals.

Information from The Arbor Day Foundation

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She had invited us to dinner (which she prepared herself) and it only struck me that afternoon that is was her birthday. Thoughtful daughter, huh?

We sort of turned it into a last minute birthday party.

The girls and I drove out a little early to wrap gifts at Granddad’s office. We are often the designated gift wrappers for such events.

Mom had already baked a delicious farm raised ham (raised by my brother Zion), and purchased local wines.

Hannah had made scalloped potatoes and a Boston Cream Pie, Zion made a frozen chocolate pie, we threw together a salad and some fresh squeezed lemonade, and we had a first rate birthday dinner.

(Please notice that my daughter is eating spinach. This may be the only documented consumption of green matter in her life.)

The girls generously assisted with the gift opening.

Kinsley even offered to model the ring which her Uncle Jared gave to Marme.

Uncle Jacob gave Marme this lovely wire work necklace which he made in his art class.

Uncle Zion gave Marme a set of three CDs of worship music. I neglected to photograph that, because I was busy photographing the back of my daughter’s head.

Grandma gave Marme this weedwhacker. Anyone who knows my mom, knows she loves nothing more than some garden/yard related tool, plant or book.

She also scored a couple of gardening books from us, a huge bag of gladiola bulbs from Dad (along with a beautiful white leather refillable journal), which I also did not photograph. Partly because I was marveling at my daughter’s pot belly and bony ribs.

Other photos from that evening:

“The atmospheric conditions have been very unfavourable lately,” said Owl.
“The what?”
“It has been raining,” explained Owl.
“Yes,” said Christopher Robin. “It has.”
“The flood-level has reached an unprecedented height.”
“The who?”
“There’s a lot of water about,” explained Owl.

Rainy day things:

1. Read.

2. Work on one’s beauty routine. Don’t worry Papa, I watched over the whole activity, very carefully.

3. Plan and organize.

4. Snack on fruit in pretty vintage dishes.

5. Fluff bedding in the dryer, scented with April Fresh Bounty sheets, in preperation for a warm and cozy nap.

6. Snuggle with a heated rice bag to cure heartburn, real or imaginary.

7. Abandon heat bag for a romp in Papa’s recliner.

8. Allow Frances to snuggle with the rice bag.

9. Explore contents of toy box.

10. Nap.

11. Wrap Marme’s birthday presents.

12. Tackle Mount Laundry.

13. And, finally - snuggle up in my chair with coffee and Agatha Christie.