A second tiny forest on the forest floor.
I was in town Sunday night when I got a call that Jane’s alarm clock had broken and that she would like to talk to me.
Jane then very politely requested that I go to the Dollar Store in town and buy her a new alarm clock, “But not one of those plain black ones with all the buttons like yours. A unicorn one.”
When I explain that the Dollar Store was unlikely to be open, (think small town Sunday night, the grocery store was closing in ten minutes and the gas station only had another hour) and that even if it was, it was highly unlikely that I would find a unicorn alarm clock at the Dollar Store (that being a weirdly specific request that I’ve never even seen before, much less at our, nice but relatively small local Dollar Store).
Jane heaved a sigh out of her little seven year old body that rivaled that of the most put-upon mother and said. “Can you just make sure it’s girly then.”
Up a creek I would have been, except that I was at a friend’s house who happened to have an old unused alarm clock as well as a resourceful high schooler. Her daughter kindly went to work printing out pictures and created the most flowery, girly unicorn alarm clock that has ever come out of our little town after dark on a Sunday.
While I was sure it wasn’t quite what Jane had envisioned, it was pretty impressive, except for one thing, it only beeped.
And so, despite the fact that Jane has only used radios as alarms in the past ,when I arrived home, well past her bedtime, (girly, unicorn alarms take a bit of time to create) I set it up anyway. This morning when my own radio alarm sounded I headed upstairs to see how Jane’s “surprise” alarm clock worked out for her.
“Mom, it looks really pretty but it makes a bad noise. When I woke up this morning I was screaming.”
I feel it needs to be explained here that Jane wakes up earlier than her sisters or me because it takes her 57 times longer than us to get ready. I give her an extra 30 minutes. Sometimes it helps. And sometimes, like this morning, John is up getting himself ready.
Thankfully he was able to turn off her alarm clock, show her the girly pictures and calm her down. Now despite the fact that she disparaged her wonderful creation as being “an alarm clock that Granny would use” (for reference Granny is her Great Grandma, so I think she got that spot on) she happily set it tonight before bed and double checked that she knew how to turn it OFF when it makes that bad noise again in the morning.
I can only conclude from this alarm clock fiasco that unicorns are indeed magical beings. How else would Jane have accepted a machine that makes a noise so irrefutably terrible that it woke her up screaming as her new alarm clock?
Probably you’ve noticed by now. One word titles? Daily posts? Jessie must have committed to some sort of crazy “girl, don’t you know it’s spring and now is not the time” blogging challenge.
You are correct. I have and I love it and today’s word, spring insanity be dammed, is Fall. As in Autumn.
A perfect excuse to share a completely random picture I loved but never had cause to share, taken last fall while hunting in the giant wheat fields of Montana.
What can I say. I just can’t resist a good challenge!
It’s officially spring and I can’t help but to hope for soft blue skies and flowers waiting to welcome me to the day. Instead this morning I opened my eyes to a sky full of dark clouds. Dark clouds that occasionally spit out rain and sleet. It was a day that truly feels like spring. One of those that no amount of cute rhymes about “April showers” can make pleasant when you are out in the teeth of the wind.
Spring is not my favorite season.
But in the wind I was.
And for the first time this year that wind smelled like spring.
And by the time I was done dodging rain showers our new arrivals were all settled in.
And with a scrap of fluff in my hand I was reminded that Spring does have it’s merits after all.
How does one walk on by to sweep the floor when there are entire constellations looking out from the marble on the window sill?
“The heart is a compass, steers us back to the thing we loved the most.”
It had been years too long since our last car camping trip.
But, finally, children had been deemed old enough, jobs and school vacations aligned, gear was procured, animal care was found and we loaded up the girls in our giant truck, that seems a lot less giant filled with car camping gear for five, and headed out on a spring break adventure to…
And it turns out Illinois isn’t the kind of place most people spring break to. But when you are from Wisconsin southern Illinois looks like spring..…and feels like spring. (Admittedly mostly in a – drizzly, wear all your layers plus a rain jacket, good thing we brought the long underwear – sort of way. But that is basically spring so I stand by my statement.) And when the rest of the world has traveled to warm sunny places you have campgrounds and hiking trails virtually to yourselves.
There were rocks to climb on…
…fires to light…
… tasty food to eat…
… and general shenanigans.
At the end it was deemed a most excellent adventure by all.
Then I got home and discovered that John’s theory that Poison Ivy loves me so much it jumps on me from the side of the trail must be correct because that’s the only explanation for the amount of spots I’m breaking out in after spending the trip wearing long underwear and a rain jacket!
But you know, every time a new blister pops up, I remember the trip with fondness. It was an excellent adventure before the itching began!