Category Archive

The following conversation took place as we drove by our public swimming pool.

Kinsley: Mama, did God make the swimming pool?

Mama: No, not exactly. But he did help the people who made it know how to make it.

Kinsley: Did God tell the people, “Put yucky water in the swimming pool”?

Mama: No, the water in the pool is very nice water!

Kinsley: Then I can drink the water in the pool.

Mama (beginning to see where this conversation is headed): No, you can’t drink the water, Kinsley!

Kinsley: Well then, I guess the water is yucky.

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.

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!

Kinsley: Papa, why do you always put clouds on your face before you shave?

Another huge hit for the kids…

They took this task very seriously - apparently believing that is was their duty to see to it that every ball was put into those little ball vacuum things, thereby clearing off the floor.

This was definitely the best part of the trip. The kids enjoyed themselves immensely. It was nearly closing time, and they essentially had the fountain to themselves.

Life looks so different, when you’re tiny.

Sophie took a while to get up the nerve to actually get in and get wet.

She and Drew sort of emboldened each other.

Kinsley on the other hand, dove right in and embraced the adventure.

We also noticed that Caleb was as thrilled and pleased with this, as he had been to go on some of the bigger, wetter rides. He seems to be at the optimum age for this sort of thing, being equally thrilled by attractions designed for smaller kids and those designed for the adventurous adults.

Sophie tried to discover the source of the water…

And was continually shocked (and pleased) to get wet…

Kinsley has a rule that she must ingest as much water from every source as she can possibly manage. And we wonder why she got sick when we arrived home.

Ahh… if only I could be so carefree!

It all started because of The Little Engine That Could. Kinsley fell in love with that book, and sat steadying every minute detail of each illustration on every single page. She could sit for an hour, looking at that book, thinking, dreaming, looking off into space and imagining.

Then one day, she spotted it. There, on nearly the last page, was a little boy riding a shiny red tricycle. The sheer romance of the illustration captured Kinsley’s imagination at once. She began to notice bikes every where we went, pointing them out and suggesting that she could probably ride them.

Then, her cousins were over one weekend, and brought their bikes to ride on our trail, and the dreamy idea became even more realistic in her mind. She began to ask for a tricycle. “Not a purple tricycle” she clarified, “a red tricycle.”

So, we suggested to her that we begin to save up for one, and watch for them at yard sales and thrift shops. This was the first think that Kinsley has ever really, really wanted, and we wanted to use the opportunity to teach her about saving and waiting. So she saved. I donated all of my laundry funds, and she added every penny she found. We had nearly filled a half gallon jar, when Grandma and Grandpa called one day to say that they had something for Kinsley.

The excitement was nearly too much for her. “It is not purple!” She squealed happily. “Mama, would you like to walk with me on the pathway?” “Look, there’s a spot for my juice!”

Once again, Grandma and Grandpa saved the day!

While our husbands (and my parents) were not having fun being at the State Convention, Emily and I were having fun taking our daughters shopping. Which actually has it’s not fun moments, due to the fact that they are all babies, and we had no strollers.

Kinsley and Sophie were fascinated by the mannequins. And the cushy seating areas in Ann Taylor Loft.

The highlights for the girls were the Wiggle Scooters….

The ice cream…

The play area…

And the street performers.

All in all, it was a very exhausting excursion.

That’s pretty much Sophie’s approach to life. She goes and goes and goes, like the energizer bunny on speed.

The way she took to the slide at the park didn’t surprise us. Actually, the surprising part was how she got to the slide. We were at the basketball court when she decided that the slide looked fun. She took off running toward it, got to the edge of the court, noticed the one inch step down to the grass, stopped about three feet from the edge, sat down, scooted all the way to the edge and carefully scooted over that little lip and onto the grass, where she continued her dead run to the slide. That little bit of caution was the only bit we witnessed for the rest of the evening.

She would climb up to the top of the slide (however she could get there) and essentially hurtle herself down it, in any position. At the bottom she would shriek with laughter and shout “Faster! Faster!”

Sophie has a tongue which is about four inches long. We’re not sure what to do about it. She’s not sure what to do with it. It doesn’t seem to stay in her mouth.

Kinsley seems to be having issues with her tongue as well.

They come by it honestly. Their Papa sticks his tongue out when he concentrates. Their Mama was once a flower girl at a wedding and hung her tongue out of her mouth the entire time.

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.

Swinging has rapidly become the activity of choice among the daughters. I think they could absolutely live on those swings if we let them. Even Sophie seems to hold on remarkably well for a one year old.

Speaking of Sophie, I’m really not sure what the problem is with her tongue. I think it may be actually too long for her mouth. It’s about four inches long, and she seems to have trouble containing it.

Over the weekend, I purchased a pair of shorts for Kinsley at a local yard sale. Kinsley lives in them now, even though the weather has turned cool again. She insists that these shorts are exactly what she needs to “catch frog legs with Uncle Jacob” and since you can never know when you might need to catch a frog leg, she wears them as much as she can get away with. She seems to feel light and springy in them.

On Saturday, Kinsley set off on a lone walk. Papa watched her from the yard as I hung laundry on the line. We thought that she would stop at a bench which is within easy walking distance of our house, and is usually the destination of the girls’ expotitions. Instead, she confidently strode past the bench, arms swinging carelessly at her sides, watching the birds along the creek. When she got near the bend in the pathway which leads to a bridge over the creek, Papa called to her, instructing her to turn and walk back toward our yard. She obeyed, in her dreamy Kinsley way. She was nearly home when she stumbled and fell. Both of her bare, bony knees were scraped, but I think the real injuries came from the shock of being jolted from her dreamy reverie.

Papa cleaned her wounds, explaining sadly that this was her first strawberry, and one of the first of many injuries which she would probably be inflicted with throughout her life.

On Monday, as Kinsley was going potty, she inspected her knee which has caused her much grief over the past few days. She looked up at me and said:

“We call this a strawberry. I don’t like strawberries. And anyway, I tasted it, and it’s not a strawberry - it’s just a scrape.”

Well, we made it to the big Non-Binkster party. Which also happened to be a birthday party for all the spring birthdays in our family, including:

Bethany

Kristina

Hannah (in the blue hat)

Mom

And Dan

Grandma Pat supplied the party hats, saying that it’s not a party without hats!

Aunt Anna gave Kinsley her very own Non-Binkster Party cake, with Winnie the Pooh.

The girls had a tea-party which for some reason seemed to involve swimwear.

After all the festivities have died down, Kinsley is still doing well as a Non-Binkster big girl. She asked Dan the other day “Is there a Non-Binkster Heaven?”

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.

A game of “This Little Piggy”…

Some tickling…

A moment to admire the softness…

And then, back to the piggies…

We also know how to entertain ourselves with them.

“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.

Last weekend, I made a spur the moment dash to the thrift shop. Kinsley stumbled upon a pair of very worn, and slightly too big pink crocs. But these are not your normal run-of-the-mill crocs. These crocs have little “jewels” decorating them. It was love at first sight.

I nearly told her she couldn’t have them. After all, there wasn’t much tread left, and they were pretty grungy. But, I decided to let her purchase them anyway, and I’m so glad I did. I had no idea that something so mundane could thrill her as thoroughly as it has. The purchase of the pink crocs has undoubtedly been the most exhilarating moment in Kinsley’s short life.

She shows them to everyone who will give her a second glance. She has talked non-stop about going to show them to Marme and Granddad, Uncle Eric and Aunt Paula, and her friend, Hosannah. She had a potty training mishap yesterday, and was in tears over the fact that now her crocs are dirty.

But wait, isn’t that Sophie wearing the crocs in all these photos? It is indeed. Kinsley asked Sophie to take care of the shoes while Kinsley napped, yesterday afternoon. Sophie was more than happy to oblige.

PS - As I type, Kinsley is asking “Where is my pink crocs? Where can they be? Mommy, have you seen my pink crocs?”

Yesterday, my grandma called to invite the girls to come over and play with her at the park. Bubbles were mentioned. And duck feeding. We went, of course.

Grandma has always been my special buddy, and I love seeing her carry on this tradition with my girls. Grandma is THE reason I sew. She taught me everything I know in this field. As a little girl, I thought Grandma could sew anything. Once, when I stayed at her house for a day or two, I wanted to go swimming, but I had left my swim suit at home. Many Grandmas would purchase a swimsuit for their granddaughters. Most would simply refuse to indulge. My Grandma simply took me downtown to the little fabric shop, allowed me to choose some Lycra fabric (mine had tropical fruit), drove us back home, whipped up a swim suit (complete with ruffles and all) and had me to the pool by the time it opened. After that, I knew she could sew anything.

Anyway, she’s as self sacrificing as ever. And my girls love her dearly.

When we got to Grandma’s house, she had already prepared the bread for the ducks, torn into small chunks and divided into two bags, one for each girl.

Sophie mostly ate hers.

Occasionally she launched a piece or two at a duck. The ducks weren’t all that hungry.

Kinsley tried pretty hard, in her own dreamy way.

Then once the bubble blowing began, the ducks were all but forgotten.

Except not by me. This is the very park where I came with Grandma when I was a little girl. This is the park where the city pool used to be. And this - this may well be the self same duck, that chased and bit me when I was a kid. I kept a close eye on him. Look at that evil glare. I think he’s onto me.

I was the only one concerned about it, too.

See that greedy “gimme” stance? That’s cause Grandma even thought to bring pretzels and apple juice.

The mere thought of food gets Sophie’s tongue working.

So, this is Grandma. I don’t think she’s changed a bit since I was two. That thrilled smile she gets when she watches the girls? She used to get that over me. That’s the way I’ll always remember her, even though you’ll never see that smile in any professional photo of Grandma.

After my brother left, my dad’s mother and step-dad joined the family party. Once again we cooked, we ate, and we enjoyed the girls.

At some point during all this visiting, Sophie discovered Marme’s marshmallow supply. She helped herself generously, taking one bight out of each marshmallow, setting it on the able, and returning to the pantry for more.

The sunset was absolutely beautiful one evening.

Marme and Granddad have recently gotten some baby chicks. The girls love them and were allowed to name a few. Kinsley named this one “Jeeves”, so my siblings named another one “Wooster”.

Will you check out the intensity of the Sophie?!

Another uncle (Seth) on their Papa’s side, calls Sophie “Oba”, and Kinsley “Dreamy One”. We weren’t sure where “Oba” came from (neither is Uncle Seth) but I can see the “Dreamy One”.

Okay, I just looked up “Oba” and the definition I found was “A hereditary chief or king among various peoples of Benin and Nigeria.” I can see that, too. Sophie’s pretty regal at time, and at other times, she’s pretty tyrannical.

PS - Jeeves has passed away, Kinsley tells me. She probably knows as she keeps up with these things. I wonder if it has anything to do with all the loving he has received in his short life.

When my sister Hannah was about three years old, my family was dining at a restaurant in a large city fairly near home. Eating out has always been something of a special event in my family. We would dress in Sunday best, and be on our best behavior. So, on this occasion, when the table next to us was filled with rowdy, noisy, and sloppily dressed children, Hannah watched then in shock and dismay.

When we left the restaurant, Hannah exclaimed “Did you guys see those orphelans sitting next to us?!”

We asked her how she knew that they were orphans, and she said “Orphelans are those kind of children that run around in the woods with no clothes on, and are wild!”

Sometimes, my own daughter reminds me of an orphelan. A demanding, wild little orphelan. Take this for example. At Marme and Granddad’s house, she removes her clothing “cause I am hot!” and demands that she be swung by an uncle. First she demands, then if that doesn’t work, she wheedles. Wheedling seems to be most effective on uncles. As she was heading out the door with Uncle Jacob, I heard her say “Awe, I love you Uncle Jacob!”

On this particular day. Granddad was out making a minor repair on his truck, and so dressed up for Kinsley’s viewing pleasure as she swung.

Last week we spent quite a bit of time at Marme and Granddad’s house. My brother Caleb was visiting from Maryland.

There was much cooking, eating and entertainment from my girls.

The girls love to dance, and Uncle Jared built this coffee table in my parent’s living room - partly as a dance floor for the girls, and partly as a birthday gift for my mom (Marme).

Kinsley explored alternative wardrobe options.

Sophie snuggled with Aunt Hannah (alternately known as Hi-oh according to Kinsley, and HYnah according to Sophie).

I think that Sophie looks so much like my side of the family.

*More photos if the week to come*

This is Kinsley’s glamor look. The look she gives you when she knows she’s so beautiful that it must be taking our breath away. It’s the look that begs compliments, and usually gets our attention, if nothing else!

It takes a little concentration and a lot of work to acquire that drop-dead gorgeous look, but once she’s got it, nothing can stop her!

PS - I did not give her free access to my cosmetics, or teach her how to apply them. She’s very resourceful.

Kinsley recently found Dan’s childhood “tater head” set, and has had loads of fun with it. It makes a great distraction while I try to get through part of my morning routine.

She is frustrated by it’s lack of eyebrows. Eyebrows are such a prominant part of our family, you know. The lack of eyes in general, doesn’t seem to bother her.

This little tiny baby girl, this thing who took up residence in my womb for nine months, who played with her papa through her mama’s belly, who kept us up all night long one September night, who, when she was born was the most amazingly beautiful baby that her parents had ever seen (see the photo above, taken mere seconds after her birth)… this same baby girl, is growing up. She’s saying the most ridiculous things, and seems to think that she’s been around forever.

A few examples of the constant craziness::

“Don’t think your jacket is pretty, Mama. It isn’t.”

“Where do babies come from? Oh, I know. They come from toenails.”

“Your toilet drives me crazy, Mama.”

“Can we walk to Marme and Granddad’s house on the sidewalk of the world?”

“We ate fish bones for lunch.” (Translation: fish sticks)

“Aww, you are my yiddle papa.”

“Would it be easy to take this book downstairs, Papa?”

And last night, Kinsley woke up at about 3am and came into our bedroom. Dan carried her back to bed, saying “It’s not morning yet, Kinsley. You have to go back to bed.” About five minutes later, Kinsley came back into the room, and cheerfully exclaimed “Good morning Papa!”

Appetizer
What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?

My middle name is Damara. I used to not like it, but I’ve gotten quite used to it, and I think I’d keep all my names! After experiencing the agony that goes into naming babies, I think it’d be pretty rotten (to one’s parents) to go and change your name…

Soup
If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors, and styles would you probably use the most?

If I were a fashion designer, it’d have to be for baby, toddler, and children’s clothing. That’s one of my favorite things to do anyway! I’d lean heavily towards the vintage (as in 30s-early 60s) mixed with some more modern prints and styles. I would not use synthetic fabrics, that’s for sure!

Salad
What is your least favorite chore, and why?

Is it a bad sign to not have a favorite chore? I do love to make the bed, but it has to be done just so, or I’d rather not make it. In fact, one time I came home, and freaked out because my bed was made, and knew that I did not make it. When I say freaked out, that may be putting it a tad mildly. In reality, I saw the bed, grabbed the phone and called Dan to see if he had been home and made the bed. He hadn’t. So I called my grandma who lives nearby to see if she had been over. She hadn’t. I knew it couldn’t be my mom, because I had been out with her. So, I did what any logical seven-month pregnant woman would do, and I got out the gun, went to my neighbor’s house (he’s a sheriff’s deputy) and asked him to come check out my house, “Because I knew someone had been in there”. He asked me how I knew, and I told him because my bed had been made by someone other than me. He had the nerve to give me a strange look and ask me to stop waving the gun around and go stand by the door while he checked out the house. He found no one, and went home. Just about then, my mom called. She had stopped by my husband’s office, and had heard that I was freaking out over my bed being made, and called me to tell me that when she came to pick me up, and while I was in the bathroom, she had made my bed for me! That evening, when we went for a walk, we saw the neighbor again, I thanked him for dealing with my hysteria and he asked if I figured out what happened. When I told him that my mom had made the bed, he said “Yeah, usually criminals don’t make beds”.

Main Course
What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?

I’m scared of earthquakes. But I don’t think that resulted from anything in particular in my childhood. Actually, I hate this kind of question.

Dessert
Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.

On a clifftop in Ireland, overlooking the sea. Okay, not really. I’m sitting in my computer chair, in my sewing room/office, typing on the computer, where’d you think?

I can see my keyboard, my one year old, an abacus, a Curious George book, about a million yards of fabric, a plastic pink pig, a miniature dachshund named Frances - oh three. Never mind the last few then. But what I can smell, that’s another story. And now I know what I’ll be doing when I get done here - changing a diaper, that’s what.

I’ve been given the amazing opportunity to acquire some new things for the camera, and not even at my own expense. It’s like Christmas, only early!

When the new lens came in, I shot the two prettiest things that were near at hand. Kinsley is always more than happy to ham it up for photos, as long as she can see them when Mama’s done.

The above painting is of a bee on grass with circle letters.

This one has a butterfly with grass and circle letters. Can you see it?

We are finally getting around to decorating. We really wanted to put of getting a tree until the week of Christmas, but we started getting worried when the selection was getting obviously picked over at our local grocery. So, last night we set out to purchase the tree. Kinsley was sooo excited. We had already set up a small table top tree in her room, and decorated it with vintage pink glass Christmas ornaments, so she was beginning to get an idea of what a Christmas tree was. Anyway, when we got to the store, Dan and Kinsley checked out the trees. Kinsley was running up and down the small row of trees, feeling each one and squealing with delight.

Unfortunately, all the trees available were so dry that they were already browning around the edges. So we decided to drive over to the next small town about ten miles away, and check their Walmart. They had already sold out of trees - before December 13th! So we drove to the grocery store in this town and were able to snag the very last lone tree.

It’s actually a very nice tree.

It reminds me of the trees of my childhood.

This morning, I walked into the living room just in time to see the tree slowly starting to fall. I don’t know if the girls and the dog had anything to do with this, or if it just happened - but right now the tree is being held up by three adorandak chairs. Try as I might, I simply was not able to hold the tree up, fight off the three female vandals and tighten all the screws on the Christmas tree stand. So, Dan will have to tend to that when he gets home. Our Christmas Tree stories are never very ordinary, for some reason.

Oh, and here’s one more random photo of the decor at our house. The “mantle” is one of my most favorite things to decorate!

I’ve mentioned Epossumondas a couple of times recently. I think it may be the all-time favorite book which we’ve ever checked out of the library. One of these days, I think we’re going to have to break down and actually purchase it ourselves. Remember Kinsley telling Dan that he didn’t have the sense he was born with? Yeah, it’s from Epossumondas.

Well, we finally captured the quote on video. It’s a hum-dinger, I think.

The girls and I had a fun day shopping at the local thrift shops on Friday.

Almost as soon as we were in the car, Kinsley said that she was hungry. As a treat, we stopped into the local greasy spoon to snack on cheese balls and ice water. Nothing has changed in that small town restaurant since I had eaten breakfasts there with my grandpa when I wasn’t much older than Kinsley. It has a “round table” and the same old men sit at that table, who were sitting there when I would go there 20 some years ago. There are a few faces missing now, and maybe a few new faces, but mostly it’s the same old guys, eating the same food served by the same waitress, just all looking a little older than they used to.

Kinsley was looking at the wall behind me and said “Look at that! I wonder how they got that goat on the ceiling?” I turned and saw what she was talking about - a mounted deer head.

Finishing up our snack, we headed out to the thrift shop next door, where we found the sweetest little retro toy iron. It even had a working plug (a thought which sends shivers of terror down my spine, actually). We purchased it for twenty five cents. Dan was able to remove the cord, and Kinsley absolutely loves it!

The video below is of her and her new iron. She thinks she’s “sewing”. The voice she’s doing, is how she says the gator in Epossumondas talks. She’s still a baby - she just talks a lot!

I was holding Kinsley on my lap two evenings ago, when she looked up at me and asked “Are you my mother?” I said “Yes, I am.” “Oh’, she said ‘that makes me happy!”

It makes me happy too.

Another thing which I recently discovered makes me happy are the paintings of Frederick Morgan (see above painting entitled ‘Motherly Love’).

This morning, Kinsley brought me the chair which Uncle Jared crafted and said,

“Did Uncle Jared make this for me?”

“Mmm-hmm”, I answered.

“Awww, Jared is a nice uncle.” She said.

Then she asked me to set it up for her. I did. It wasn’t satisfactory, so she and Sophie worked on it for a while.

v

Kinsley tried it out, and found that it needed more work. So they worked some more.

Finally, they were able to get things how they wanted them. Kinsley sat.

She said, “This is cozy!”

Sophie did her best dog imitation in celebration. The imitation is perfectly silent, but has lots of expression.

By the way, if are ever suspicious that you have had a couple of Hobbits working on something in your home, look for small, brightly colored rubbery plastic things left behind. It’s a dead give-away.

Yesterday, as Dan was pumping liquid gold into our gas tank, Kinsley was watching hime contemplatively. She announced to me, Sophie, or anyone who was interested in her thoughts on the topic, “Papa don’t have the sense he was born with!”

I promise, she did not learn this from me. Would I use such bad grammar? No, we can thank Epossumondas for that.

When Dan got back in the car, Kinsley asked, “Papa, you not have the sense you were born with?”

Kinsley brought Dan a few herbal allergy pills which escaped form his shirt pocket. She handed them to him, turned to walk out of the room, paused and said “Gosh! I could have swallowed those!”

She asked me this morning, “Mama, how do ghosts go?”

Uncle Jacob was describing a recent gigging trip which involved his best friend Ben T. Kinlsey interrupted and looked at Jacob and asked “Did Ben T miss me?”

We were riding in the car this morning, when Kinsley called from her car seat in the back, “Mama, don’t bother me for a while, OK?”

Dan was watching the girls one evening, when he decided to treat them to a few of his childhood toys. We had agreed that they were to be enjoyed with parental supervision, due to the near perfect condition of these vintage toys. When he got them out, Kinsley managed to break one right away. Dan banged the arm of the couch in frustration, and Kinsley said “Papa, you can’t spank the couch. EVER AGAIN.” as she