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Belated Birthday Thoughts

While our internet was misbehaving I wrote many posts that I never got a chance to publish due to technical difficulties. I wrote this the evening of Clara’s birthday…

From the time Clara arrived, Ivy was a dutiful big sister. When Clara was a baby, Ivy was so attentive to her baby sister that I worried about ever leaving them unattended, a quick trip to the bathroom and I’d come back to find Clara under stacks of books, toys and blankets that Ivy just couldn’t wait to share. Of course as they have grown Clara is now happy to be buried under Ivy’s toys and Ivy is usually happy to play with Clara. But their sweet sisterly ways have been experiencing some growing pains since Ivy started school. Now Ivy drags herself off the bus, tired out after a big day of school and greets Clara’s happy rush to greet her with a “NO thank you Clara.” There has been more fighting between them than there ever has been before and the last weeks have been trying on everyone.

As Clara’s birthday approached we made sure to include Ivy in all the preparations and the big hearted sister that she is showed right back up. Ivy sewed Clara a pillow for her baby doll as her gift to give her. Then she gave me a special piece of fabric that she had been saving so that I could make a blanket for Clara’s baby. When we went shopping she asked if she could pick out Clara a present with her own money all by herself and she did. Ivy discussed cake plans with me, watched John build a doll cradle, wrapped gifts and even picked out some of her toys that Clara likes and wrapped them up to give to her.

When Clara’s birthday arrived Ivy had a bit of a tough time – it’s hard to be the big sister when it’s not your birthday. But when all was said and done, Ivy told Clara that she could pick out all the bedtime books and when I thanked her for being such a good big sister all day she admitted that it was pretty good, “Except for a few moments of cryin’.”

Ivy was right, it was a good birthday. Clara turned three and was as well behaved as a three year old can be and Ivy turned back into the big sister that we all know she can be. Tomorrow is back to school and regular schedule and I’m certain that the two girls have more rocky times ahead, now and in the future. But thank goodness for birthdays, and the opportunities they bring for teaching, thoughtfulness, and smoothing a bit of the rocky road, even if temporarily.

Just over a month later I’m happy to report that Ivy (and the rest of us) are getting used to school and her new schedule. There are still days where Ivy draaags her tired feet off the bus to the house and refuses to talk to Clara but there are just as many days that they are happy to see each other and disappear up the stairs in a fit of giggles.

Gotta Have A Story

If there is one thing I’ve learned growing up in a family of hunters it’s that if you don’t come home with something dead you’d better come home with a good story – if you can swing both so much the better.

So, yesterday afternoon when I found myself watching a pheasant and opossum having a stare down while I was out hunting with the dogs, I figured I was set. “This is going to get interesting!” I said to myself as the dogs came crashing through the cattails toward us.

And then it didn’t.

The pheasant, upon seeing me, dashed off into the cattails.

The opossum climbed a tree, a very small tree.

The dogs ignored the opossum (good dogs!) and sniffed their way after the pheasant.

Storm went on point in the cattails and I couldn’t find her.

The bird flushed – I missed.

The dogs passed by the opossum, stopped, looked up, and carried on (good dogs!).

I went to the opossum and took a quick picture.

Then we tracked down the pheasant and even though I was unaided by any sort of pointing from my dog (bad dog!) I got the bird.

Trip retrieved it, (good dog!).

Then he blasted off through the cattails and ran down another until it flushed -waaaay away from us (bad dog!).

So we looked for it, until the dogs stunk of swamp, I had cattail fuzz up my nose and we were all covered in burrs.

Then I got a phone call that I was needed at home.

I returned home to find my entire family in the field “helping” gut the buck our friend shot (nice work Jeff!).

We spent the rest of the night cleaning swamp muck and burrs off the dogs.

Today the dogs are tired and on drugs to combat the beasties in the swamp water that are disagreeing with their systems and I’m left reflecting that my unexciting opossum/pheasant stare down turned into an interesting evening anyway.

After all, I got my bird and I got a story.

Edible Books

I’m joining a new online book club this month called Edible Books. They choose food related books and discuss them on twitter throughout the month. Novembers book is White Truffles in Winter by N.M. Kelby it looks like it will be fun.
If you’re interested you can find all the details at http://ediblebookclub.com

(In other exciting news the internet people claim they will have our internet fixed by tomorrow and our new computer is scheduled to arrive before the weekend! I’m crossing my fingers it all works out!)

Good Night

"Honey, come quick!’
I drop my armful of dirty laundry and head out the door to find John looking South and listening.
I join him on the back patio, bare feet chilly in the frosty air.
The full moon gives everything a blueish tinge and even the shaggy dog is quiet except for the click of her toenails on the concrete as she stand by us and we listen.
The road is blissfully silent and all the night seems to hold are the quiet noises of the cows in the pasture near our house.
Then the great horned owl calls again… and again… and again.
We grin and whisper and listen until John attempts to call back and the owl stops.
Our silence collapses into giggles and silly dancing and we head back to our respective Sunday night chores.
It is not until later while settling a fussy child that I hear the owl again.
The sound drifts though a crack in the window that I couldn’t bear to shut entirely on such a beautiful night and as I rock my baby I have a chance to reflect on the day.
And I am thankful.

The Many Faces of Clara

While we figure out what to do about our lack of computer at home I’m borrowing a friend’s computer to check e-mail, the price of a new computer, bank statements and other things not nearly so important.

I had these photos of Clara already ready to go before the computer went kaput…

…hopefully we’ll get our technology sorted out soon. But for now I”m on borrowed computer time and since Clara is literally eating the couch I think it’s time for me to go!

The Question of the Day

John and Clara were having an exceptionally difficult time getting out of the house this morning and just when John thought they were headed outside and Clara changed direction yet again I heard him frustratedly ask the big question.

 “Why is efficiency never part of your repertoire?”

Clara didn’t answer, she just changed her mind on what hat she was going to wear one final time before they made it out the door and left me chuckling in the kitchen.

Was my laughter because John’s choice of words was so apt for the main Clara frustration of the moment or was it that I had just witnessed the pot calling out the kettle…

I’ll never tell!

Leaf Pile

Happiness is a pile of leaves!

Strongly Agree

Even down here, from under this nice comfy rock where I reside, I can tell the election is coming. If I were to manage to forget the date, miss the yard signs and keep the radio off  the phone calls alone would remind me. These are no ordinary political calls either.In fact I haven’t received a single call telling me who I should vote for and why. Nope, so far all I’ve answered are survey questions. Survey questions, which I must admit, I’m pathetically happy to answer.

You see it’s like this…

Here I am home alone with three kids. We’ve almost made it through another day. Which means that I’ve answered approximately 5,00,000,003 questions. 3,000,000,000 of my answers were considered wrong by the children and resulted in lengthy repetitive “discussions” (read how many different ways can you say, “No more apple cider!”). 2,000,000,000 of my answers were never heard by the kids because they had already moved on to other things and the last three of my answers were considered satisfactory and were allowed to stand.  I’m on the brink of answering question 5,000,000,004 thinking the odds are poor that it will have a good outcome when the magic moment happens – the phone rings. A ringing phone can only mean one thing – ADULT CONVERSATION! I jump up shedding kids, dogs and dinner paraphernalia like a duck sheds water, dash to the phone and try to say hello as if I’m not grasping at a life line.

My excitement over the ringing phone had started to wane when I realized that three quarters of all my phone calls were people asking me what I think. But then I realized something. Three quarters of my phone calls are adults asking me what I think! I answer, and no one argues, screams, cries or stomps the ground. Sometimes they say things like “Really?!” which strikes me as odd and my science background is then suspicious of their results.  Sometimes I mess with them to see if I can get them to leave their script – also not good scientific survey etiquette. Sometimes they provide “information” and then ask their questions again which makes the biologist in me shudder in horror. Most of the time I just cheerfully answer their questions using their awkward phrase of choice.

After the most recent barrage of survey questions I hung up the phone and realized something quite depressing.The political season’s version of telemarketers has become my new entertainment. Standing in the kitchen already besieged by more unanswerable questions from my own personal Lollipop Guild  I immediately made myself a promise that I strongly agreed with…

I must crawl out from under my rock for a social event more often than my once a week library visit and I will never believe the results of the phone polls!

I wrote this for the Daily Post’s writing challenge of the week (of Oct. 1st) and am going with the better late than never theory. To see other responses to the challenge check out:  http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/10/01/weekly-writing-challenge-metaphor-and-similie/