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.

List

I've been kind of a bad blogger lately, haven't I?  Does it count if I've composed countless posts in my head, if not actually on the blog?  Because if it does, then I'm actually an awesome blogger.

How about I do a half-hearted attempt at a post and make yet another list, then tomorrow come back and write a real post?

• I walked upstairs toward the end of naptime the other day and found this:

Caedmon had snuck into the bathroom, crawled in the sink, then got stuck.  I have no idea how long he was in there; I had been outside trimming trees for the last hour and a half.  He now has a baby gate in his doorway at naptime.  He likes to curl his fingers around the bars and peer forlornly at me as I walk away from him.  It makes me feel a little bad for him.  Not bad enough to let him stay up, of course.  Don't let his sweet face fool you- that kid's an operator.

• We finally made it to Ledges State Park the other day.  We all had a terrific time, in part because Cade enjoys being mothered by pretty girls, and our friend Adi is the consummate 7 year old mother.

• My coneflowers are blooming, as is the cactus my grandparents gave me.

I know I keep harping on about it, but I just cannot believe all I had to do was lay that thing on the ground and it's thriving.  [Insert related self-deprecating comment on my parenting style that I'm too tired to come up with here.  Sorry guys, it's a bring-your-own-jokes kind of night.]  Note that I "planted" said cactus at the entrance to the rabbits' burrow under the shed.  I was hoping the little demons would get stuck and die slow, painful deaths, but then a little childhood fable began to trickle through my head... something about... Brier Rabbit?  Briar Rabbit?  Br'er Rabbit?  Anyone want to enlighten me?  Am I completely making this up?

• I got my first cherry tomatoes of the year last week.  Two of 'em.  There's a whole bunch out there right now that hopefully I'll remember to pick tomorrow morning.  

Did I ever tell you I forced myself to like tomatoes?  In college I decided that it was high time I started eating tomatoes, so I'd make myself eat them every couple months.  As I progressed through my twenties I upped it to once every month, then every few weeks, until finally my taste buds surrendered or my brain cracked and I really did like them.  Only took me ten years!

• I still like taking photos of my children while they're asleep.  I don't know what this means.

Atticus was actually hanging off the couch, and was supporting some of his weight with the leg on the floor for a whole hour while he napped.  I tell you what, even unconscious that kid is weird.  He either looks like a corpse or his entire body is covered in heavy blankets- including his head and face- with just his bare feet sticking out.  I always feel like I should be divining some deeper meaning behind these unusual sleeping positions.  

• I get to see both my sisters and their families this weekend, including this lady:

Steph.  Beffer.  Stepha-roonie.  The Steph-meister.  Shteffer-Beffer.

Is it just my family, or do all youngest siblings have a million nicknames?

• And something to make you smile:

35 Facts About Mr. Rogers