Monday, June 6, 2016


It's front porch season.  Hallelujah.

While I love how this kind of weather beckons each member of our family outdoors, it also means that our children are finding new and inspired ways to wage war against one another.  

I got a call from Derek while on a run recently.  He wasted no time in saying an incident had occurred, please come home.  Thankfully I was less than a mile from our house, so I was able to dart right home, up the stairs, and into the bathroom, where Atticus was bent over the tub, face covered in blood.

I quickly looked him over, saw the giant goose egg on his head, found the source of the bleeding, and overall decided that the actual wounds were much less concerning than their cause:  Knitting needles, thrown at him by his sister in a fit of pique.  

By the time I got there, she was more upset than he was, yet still managed to inform me between sobs that yes, she had thrown her knitting needles at her brother, but that she never thought they would actually hit him; she had no idea her aim was that good!

Caedmon didn't have much to say about the whole thing, but still maintains that "Atticus deserved it," as he has informed a number of people.

At this point Atticus the Injured has mostly healed, although he had two relatively deep holes in his scalp for days.  No telling on any emotional injuries.  

Speaking of running (were we?), I've found the perfect design for asthmatic runners:
Ideal t-shirt design would also include a little pocket for our inhalers, of course.  

My peonies had a short season this year, and one bush didn't bloom at all.  I still managed to bring a few indoors.

The kaleidoscope container planting at Reiman Gardens has been changed again:
Kaleidoscopic succulents!  

And last but not least, I have finally found the most perfectly thoughtful gift for my sister who, when we were children, couldn't sleep for terror of her china doll, even after it had been removed from her room, her closet, anywhere within crawling-up-onto-her-bed distance.
Baby is angry.


  1. Ahh . . . the joy that is siblings, until it isn't. I have scars to this day on my arm from my younger sister scraping her fingernails into me in some fit of temper. She also pushed me down the stairs once. Either I was an angel or I just don't remember all the horrible things I did. Really, as far as I can remember it was just one fight after another (there were four of us). Every set of siblings is different, but I'm still not terribly close to any of mine, and that is one reason that an only child seemed like such a good idea to me :-) I have since met siblings who actually like each other, and I'm sure yours will (you and your sisters certainly seem to have a great relationship) --until then, I send my sympathy and hope you get to spend lots of time in your garden.

    1. I do have a great relationship with my sisters, but man alive, did we fight. I remember my mom locking us out of the house, refusing to unlock the door until we'd run around the perimeter of the house a certain number of times, because we would not. stop. fighting. This seems extremely sensible to me now.

  2. "I am a thirty year-old woman. I will not be intimidated by dolls!" as I shove the life sized toddler doll with scratched out eyes into the far corner of Charlotte's closet, making sure it's facing the wall.

    1. Mine is deep in our bedroom closet... in the dark... plotting... scratching?


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