Good Kitty

Despite the fact that Gypsy is the worst food thief of the bunch she’s still my favorite of the cats.

She purrs, she snuggles and last night she killed a mouse. Gypsy in a box

What a good kitty.

It’s been years –years – since a cat of ours caught a mouse. Fiona, our oldest, has never caught one. I’ve seen her disinterestedly look at one but that’s as far as she ever went. Henry, our old cat, has been gone for years but he caught mice…. kinda… Perhaps you need to read about Henry’s mouse catching to fully appreciate my excitement over a dead mouse.

For a story of the worst mouser ever (not to mention pictures of a tiny Ivy and Piper) read Henry the Cat.

And then, you will perhaps better understand why I am oh-so-happy to have a cat that kills the mice!

The Third One is the Loud One

Jun19

In my experience you teach the first child manners.

You teach them how to sign please before they can speak it. By the time they talk they ask for things with complete sentences and when they tell stories, (so many stories) it is done in a fairly normal, if excited, speaking voice.

The second child you try. But the first child is “helping” by making up pretend signs that change minute to minute so the sign language thing never really catches on. And your hands are so full with the first child’s polite, but attention seeking stories, that so long as the second child says what they want instead of sitting and wailing until you figure it out, you no longer care exactly how the information is presented.

The third child, the third child is loud.

As the first child continues to jabber on night and day, the second continues with her demands and the third is left with only one option -loud.

Polite, but loud.

Granny tries to tell Jane that you should be quiet when you go fishing.

Full sentences, at top volume.

Stories, just as many stories as that first child, but louder ones.

Songs, all sung at top volume.

(Yes, I know the video is sideways, please tell me if you know how to fix it!)

And you try, you really try to pay attention to them when they ask for something the first time, when it might be in a nice normal voice. But, you are the mother of three and, inevitably, you miss it. The over shadowed and ignored third child defaults back to loud and you finally respond. The behavior is rewarded, you sigh because you know what you just contributed to, again, and the third child continues to be loud.

Granny’s advice is ignored.

Happy – but loud.

Yes, in my experience, the third one is the loud one.

It’s Here!

Jun17

What are you waiting for?

Find yourself a copy and a cat and get reading!

Now, if you’ll excuse me…

Raindrops

Jun6

A Difference of Opinion

Jun1

I was visiting my grandparents and it was hot.

Eighty degrees hot.

For those of you who don’t think that sounds hot, I will hazard a guess that you didn’t just come off a winter whose temps dipped to -40, (yes that’s Fahrenheit) followed by a cold, late spring. Let me just tell you, us Wisconsinites hit 50 and pulled out shorts and tank tops because it was so nice. We aren’t yet acclimated to hot. And the 80 degree, still, humid weather was airless and hot.

So, on such a nice, warm evening Aunt Carol thought Grandma would like to go for a ride on the four-wheel “mule.”

Concerned about the evening turning chilly, Grandma was all for bundling up to go out. (Please remember the -40 winter and late spring!) Carol was able to convince her to merely bring along her knit hat rather than wear it and so as we loaded up and headed out into the field, it was sitting on the seat between them close at hand.

Slowly cruising through the hay field, we watched the bobolinks fly up off their nests and then float back down. We occasionally stopped to pull patches of blooming yellow rocket out of the green field. We headed into the woods to admire all the wildflowers and, we sweated.

We sweated in that way that happens when it’s so humid that it seems to be impossible to muster a drip of sweat. Instead skin turns unreasonably sticky. The air was too damp to allow even another drop of moisture to evaporate off your skin, bringing it’s cooling relief.

But, it was a beautiful night, the company was wonderful and the bit of a breeze as we moved along was a welcome relief. I sat, took a few pictures and tried to ignore the stickiness of the evening. Soon I heard Grandma’s voice float back to me:

“You were right, it is quite mild.”

Now, I believe that one should treat the matriarch of the family with respect, even if their opinion differs from yours. Not to mention disagreeing with the woman who raised eight children is bound to be a losing proposition (just ask my dad how that turns out.) But love and respect aside, my hair was curling, my legs were stuck to the inside of my jeans and I just couldn’t stop myself from hollering back,

“HOT grandma, it’s called HOT!”

A Babysitting Adventure

May27

Jane, Clara and I packed in a whirlwind of activity for a last minute babysitting adventure for my nephew Jonas. We headed down the driveway as I double checked that we had all the important stuff.

Two kids? Check (Ivy and John had to stay home and go to school and work.)

The blankets? Check

Wallet? Check

Necessities accounted for, I turned to the back seat and my babysitting assistants…

Me:”Ok girls, are you ready for an adventure!?”

Clara: “Yeah it’s going to be excellent!”

Me: “Oh yeah? How come?”

Clara: “Because Ivy’s not coming so she can’t hit me and Jane is too far away so she can’t hit me either!!!”

And she was right, it was pretty excellent.

All smiles!

Isn’t he cute?

“old” plants

The climber!

A full load!

The queen surveys a new territory.

Dog handler in training

Jonas, being the ridiculously smiley, happy, and quiet baby that he is, was a pretty easy going customer even if he did make my two girls seem like crazy, loud hooligans in comparison.

I can’t wait for him to start talking and running, I suspect that there is a whole lot of noise and trouble just waiting to come out.

And if not, well, we can always babysit again and my girls can teach him how it’s done!

The Queen

May19

She’s two, that littlest girl of mine. Jane by pond

Two, an age with a name all it’s own, and it’s not a good one.

It should have been no surprise to me.

It should have been no surprise when as I was tucking each girl in last night, giving and receiving hugs and kisses, that when it was her turn she held out her hand.

She held out her hand at arms length, palm down, fingers aimed toward the floor.

She held out her hand to be kissed as though she were the tyrant queen of the household.

Two, an age where you can be the tyrant queen and your subjects still will adoringly kiss your hand before bed.

Yes, she’s two, that littlest girl of mine.

Weekly Photo Challenge: On The Move

May13

Weekly Photo Challenge: On The Move

Last fall my Dad, with his local Walleyes for Tomorrow chapter, built a “Walleye Wagon“. This “wagon” is actually a portable fish hatchery, just for walleye, and is parked right next to the lake that they both collect the eggs from and release the fry into. Just this last weekend the fish were hatching – we had to stop by and check it out.

Everything was on the move!

The eggs were roiling around on the bottom of the giant flasks, the newly hatched fry were swimming up and floating down, partially hatched ones with just tails sticking out were flailing themselves around in circles, and people were dropping by constantly to see all the excitement.

It was amazing!

You can check out Pewaukee Walleyes website at http://pewaukeewalleyes.wordpress.com/ for more details on how they hatched four million walleye fry!