Stories for Two Out of Three

I have yet again had a talking-to with myself and said that I am not to let this little piece of the internet waste away with but a single post a month.  We've been busy little bees-

and speaking of bees, those things stinging our children were not bees but the vile and depraved YELLOW JACKET, and once I took the time to do two seconds of investigating I found that why, yes, there was a hole in the ground with a steady stream of black- and yellow- banded winged insects streaming into it, and if I hung around for more than two seconds that trend would reverse itself and a steady stream of those same insects would begin filing out, heading straight for my own apparently threatening body.  The internet is divided on what to do about this, so thus far I have fallen back on one of my greatest strengths and done nothing.

- so, yes, busy little bees we have been indeed, with both the boys having birthdays and turning different ages, which is helpful for me because all three are now back to their evenly-spaced, stair-step ages, so I don't have to look like a terrible mother when people ask me how old they are, as I stand there and try to remember just what age our own children are right now.

Adelaide seems to be feeling the full eleven-ness of her eleven years, which I will explain with a small story:

There was recently a lock-in at our church for sixth graders.  Adelaide was willing to go and participate, but kept bemoaning the fact that it didn't start until 9 p.m., and didn't those leaders understand that only gives her around two hours of fun?  I tried to explain that the point is to try and stay up all night, to which she responded with a harrumph and more grumbling about needing her sleep and how kids her age need a good 10-12 hours a night and are the youth group leaders responsible adults or not if they don't understand that?

But off she went, towing her sleeping bag and pillow, fully planning on using both to good effect.


I picked her up the following morning at 8 a.m.  She was holding two doughnuts and a full package of Oreos.  The youth group leader told me he was pretty sure she hadn't slept at all.  She confirmed this.

I knew what this meant.

Adelaide is right to put a priority on sleep.  She does and has always needed plenty of sleep, for with proper rest she is her usual delightful self, but without, she regresses in age by around 70%.  And sure enough, halfway home she burst into tears because I laughed too hard at one of her jokes.  Derek suggested she stay home from Atticus's soccer game to sleep, which she did, but then we attempted to rouse her for the afternoon, not wanting throw her sleep schedule off any further.  What we got for our efforts was a vengeful she-beast who wailed every time she was reminded that no, no, she mustn't go back to sleep, she must stay awake for her own good.

Approach with caution.

Eventually self-preservation won out and I did let her lapse back into slumber for the bulk of the afternoon.  By Sunday she was more or less back to normal, so I suppose it all worked out.


Atticus has been running around playing lots of soccer, of which I have zero pictures.  He has scored the majority of goals for his club soccer team, of which I have zero pictures.  Does this mean they revoke my soccer mom card, or did that automatically happen when I told Derek I still don't understand what "offsides" means?  At least it looks like I'm in good company:  a google search of "soccer offsides" gave me a bunch of results, naturally, topped with "How to Understand Offside in Soccer:  11 Steps," "What is the Offside Rule in Soccer? -dummies," and a 4-minute YouTube video of a soccer coach trying to explain this rule.  No wonder!  You're going to lose me in any situation that it takes 11 steps or four minutes or whatever to explain a sports-related rule.

Other than photo-less soccer, Son the Elder has also been harvesting his sunflowers for seed so he can plant more in the spring, because he really does love to grow them.

Note that he wears his shin guards to do so.  This is both practical for gardening and so that he can return immediately to soccer after finishing.  And regarding the knife:  I've found that even my more reluctant gardeners are more likely to join in when I tell them they can use a knife at some point.  This kid merrily sawed away at all our sunflowers, some to dry for seed, some to leave on the table on our back deck to try and draw the birds in closer.


We do still have a third child, and he has been doing things, but darned if I can remember what they are.

Proof

I love words and stories and ideas as much as the next person who reads too much, but sometimes the physical, something tangible you can hold in your hands, is good too.





Proof that my mother loves me:

Not that I ever doubted, or anything, but really, nothing says love like a Harry Potter rice pack, right?  Soothes a sore back, headaches, and a hurting stomach, plus it's MAGIC (you can tell by those little white star things printed all over the fabric- that's like, HP 101, tenderfoot).  Don't worry, she didn't leave any houses out:

Slytherin's on the back- or front, depending on how you feel about Slytherin

 Proof that fall is coming:

My favorite bulb catalog!  I've already got my eye on a bunch of crocuses, but am having a really tough time deciding on colors for next year's tulips.  It's been plaguing me for days now.  My life is so hard.

Proof that there are major benefits to children growing older:

Adelaide made these loaves of zucchini bread this morning.  You know what I did?  Grated the zucchini.  The end.  She did the rest.  Hallelujah.

Proof that Atticus leads a rough existence right now:

A week and a half after the initial incident, and the bridge of his nose is still swollen, but the bruising is better, and although it's hard to see in this photo, his lips are a mess.  Poor kid.

Proof that good can come of bad:

When I got back from our Labor Day travels, I walked into the backyard and found the giant sunflower tree-like thing had been felled by the previous night's storm.  A bit of a shame, but it's been keeping us in lovely cut flowers for our table ever since:

Proof that even gorgeous seed packets can't always be trusted:

Remember this?

This is what resulted:

Every single flower from those seeds has been this lovely shade of red and had exactly 50% of the petals it should have.  Pretty and unusual, to be sure, but not what was advertised.

Proof that our children are about 72% sweeter when they're asleep (let's not ponder too long about what this might mean, hmm?):

Cade and Adelaide slept on a bed of quilts on the floor at my grandparents' house.  I tried to disentangle Caedmon's fingers from his sister's hair, but even in sleep he was firm:  One set of fingers belonged in his mouth, the other in Adelaide's hair.

The Veggies of our Labors

Last week, in the midst of crazy vacation-prep hullabaloo, I stepped outside for a few moments so I wouldn't kill anyone.

This is how God speaks to me, by the way.  Moses got a burning bush.  Isaiah got rockin' visions.  I get a still, small voice that says, "Get out of the house, for Me's sake, before you maim someone."

So I got out of the house.


See this?

It's one of those sunflowers of the gorgeous packaging- the only one to grow of dozens I planted.  All my eggs are in this basket.  It better bloom, and it better wait til we get home.  

It's also well over six feet tall, so I'm glad the one that chose to grow is right next to the deck, so we'll actually be able to see the top.  

The coneflowers are in their prime, and usually playing host to pollinators.

Adelaide joined me outside for the reaping.  

"Reaping."  That word has such a sinister quality to it, post-Hunger Games, but not to worry.  We're just talking about vegetables.

The gourds are really starting to take off, too:

These 10 Commandments gourds are each bigger than my fist.

I felt much better after all that.  Nothing soothes like gourds, right?  I'm pretty sure that's an old Jewish adage.  Or something.

Drop Dead Red Sunflowers

Let's take a break from the book reviews and talk about gardening instead, even if I do see nothing but grey and white and brown when I look out our window.


I went to Earl May yesterday to buy carrot seeds (and only carrot seeds).  Just something to get me through to a time when we supposedly won't be surrounded by miles upon miles of snow and ice and freezing cold temperatures.  Something very mysterious happened while I was in the store and I left with not just carrot seeds but also a couple different kind of seeds for gourds and some for ornamental eggplant and flowering kale and I don't even remember what else.  The real miracle is that I only bought one packet of flower seeds:

I'm a sucker for beautiful flower illustrations anytime, but this one is just gorgeous in person.  You know it's a fancy packet of seeds when they credit the illustrator on the back of the packet (Carolyn Crawford, fyi), and the packet itself is at least twice the size of most others.  

I can already tell it will be beyond my ability to simply throw this packet away once I've planted its seeds (by the bye, Derek, that is not an invitation to "help" me toss it, but thanks anyway), but I'm not sure what to do with it.  Simply find a small frame for it and frame the whole thing?  I really don't want to cut it up... I don't think.  I do, however, know exactly where I to plant these sunflower seeds:  in a flower bed in our front yard that has, by some miracle, remained relatively untouched by me thus far, despite the fact that it's one of the few beds in our yard fortunate enough to enjoy full sun.  It's basically just a big rectangular drift of yellow irises that have been there for who knows how long, which means it's beautiful for the few weeks in spring the irises are in bloom, but pretty blah the rest of the year.  I spent approximately four thousand hours (or just four, which is pretty much the same thing) one day last summer dividing them and adding several other colors of iris plants from my grandparents.  Even with a little variety in color, iris-wise, the bed very obviously needs to be more useful and interesting in the summer and fall, so the plan is to sow the majority of these Drop Dead Red sunflower seeds in that bed amongst the iris rizomes.  This bed is also located just under a large window in our living room, and my hope is that they'll be tall enough to be visible from inside the house.  Well, my biggest hope is that the actual flowers will be as stunning as both the illustration and the text on the packet promise.  

Went to the plant nursery for something useful, came out with a handful of seed packets for flowers and numerous other (relatively) useless ornamental plants.  Sounds about right!

Backyard Bully

Just a quick flower post.  If flowers aren't your thing, a) feel free to skip this one with no hard feelings, and b) what did it feel like to sell your soul?

I kid.

The Johnny Cash sunflowers are thriving.  I plan on sowing more than just a single seed of these next year (seriously, why do I do these things?); hopefully I'll be able to harvest the seeds from these beauties without incident.  If you want any, it looks like I'll have plenty, and I'm happy to share!  Just let me know, then keep reminding me over and over again until I actually hand 'em over.  It's how I operate.

See this plant?

Yeah, it's kind of a monster.

I snapped these photos a little late; it has been covered in small white flowers for the past few weeks.  While it is pretty, and obviously, uh, over-achieving in its growth, it's kind of a bully.  There's a purple clematis planted right next to it that's a downright puny; I usually see a few blooms on it before it's completely overtaken by Monstro here.  I've tried pulling it out, hacking it down to the ground, but its roots are apparently planted under the deck, and I don't hate it quite enough to break through the lattice down there.  Yet.

So... anyone know what it is?  It's crazy thick, and attracts plenty of wasps and even a few hornets, which is fun.  I haven't noticed a lot of bees around it- they've been congregating around the sunflowers and coneflowers, which makes me feel like I'm doing my part to help with that whole bee crisis.  That's right:  the dozens of bees our yard attracts is really going to turn the tide in the bees' favor.  Didn't you know?

Anyway, don't forgot:  Let me know if you want Johnny Cash sunflower seeds, and figure out what that crazy climbing plant is for me, mmkay?

Name That Flower! Again!

At this time of year, most of my plants are really looking like- to quote my mother- they've been "rode hard and put up wet."  Sad and parched and Japanese beetle-ridden.

Still, there are a few things blooming.  My white hydrangea is heavy with blooms, which is a relief, given how severely I whacked at it last fall, cutting it way down close to the ground.

Side note- did you know I can't grow any of those gorgeous blue or purple hydrangeas here?  The soil is too alkaline, which is apparently what provides the hydrangea with its color.  The best we can do is a slight pink.  You can go ahead and shed a tear for me.



Moving on... the other day Derek's mom said she found giant sunflowers creepy.  I decided to forgive her because although she may live in Kansas, she's not a native.  I figure she just can't help it.

"I'm not creepy!  Looooove me Becky!"

I've also got this shorter- about four feet tall- variety of sunflower growing.  It looks like it'll end up with several blooms on it, which I wasn't expecting.  If only I had saved the seed packet so I'd know what type it is.  I have got to start a gardening journal.

Never mind, I just found it!  It's a "Ring of Fire" sunflower.  I've got a Johnny Cash fan in my backyard!  

And now I need some help.  Again.  

What is this?

It has even more blooms on it today, and I think is scented, although it's hard to tell with my sad sniffer.  It doesn't spread, and is really low maintenance; it's been a really dry summer here, I haven't watered it a bit, and it's been stepped on a bunch of times by my goat-children.  

It's really a beautiful flower- those florets come off intact and blow around our backyard like floral confetti.  

Anyone?  Help?  Please?