What happens when you drop your blog for a couple of years? For a couple of earthshaking, hectic, frazzled years that you don’t document along the way? What happens is the three or so readers you had stop reading, stop coming around, and it gets pretty quiet. Maybe that’s okay.
That’s right – the barn party. It’s as much a part of summer for us as Independence Day. For seven years now, we have got out to the barn to party like it’s 1899. Only with plastic utensils.
Here is what the Hooligans Looked like back then:
(And, of course, Moo wasn’t born yet.)
Now there are three of the little boogers, and they aren’t that little anymore.
My friend, L, and her kiddos got to come, too. Right after we walked into the barn, I turned to her and asked if she wanted to eat inside or outside. I had actually remembered to bring a camp chair this time, so I was gunning to sit in the fresh air. “I think it might rain.” she pointed out.
Dang if she wasn’t right. Not five minutes later, it was a good steady wetting out there and my well-planned chair sat in the corner. But it was wonderful and cozy as everyone sat in the barn to eat together, instead of spreading out all over the place. The downside? Restless children syndrome, since the hay ride was cancelled. Good thing there is a natural climbing area made of hay bales in the back of the building.
It was a wonderful barn party, and a bonus summer holiday.
I am not a very good Valentine’s Day person. This year, I didn’t even get the required bag of candy and cheap pink-and-white plastic junk to distribute to the Hooligans. I just plain didn’t remember in time.
As we drove home from running club today, I asked them, “What about kidneys? No one has a ‘Thanks for filtering my urine!’ day. It’s so unfair. Or elbows. There is no ‘Hooray for bent arms!’ day. And spleens! There are absolutely NO holidays for spleens. Just hearts, hearts, hearts everywhere. Thpt!”
Then the Bear’s voice pipes up from the back seat, “Yeah! And I love my anus!”
There are obviously things about having a Y chromosome that I will never quite get.
It’s true that the HallowThanksBirthsMas Eve season is upon us, but it’s not a gift list I am making. Well, I’m making that list, too – with three birthdays and Christmas to shop for, I need to be organized. I am also making a list of things that need to get done around the house as we prepare for the upcoming move. It is official: the new duty station is San Diego. I have no actual date for the move since we have to sell our house before we can leave.
We weren’t seeking a change in location. After nearly fifteen years in Washington, this haven of rain and adamant vegetation has almost completely replaced Colorado in my heart. This place is home. But, really, we are blessed to have lived in one place so long – military life is usually a mobile one. Our kids have had a chance to know what a home town feels like, with friends and family always around.
It is hard to plan ahead, since there is no solid timeline. All we can do is the next thing to prepare to go. In the mean time, I am making a list of things that are positive, stuff to look forward to when we finally get on our wagon and go:
- Tons of stuff to do. Lego Land, the San Diego Zoo, Balboa Park, and the list goes on and on. We will be right in the middle of tourist heaven. I run through the list of things like a mantra to help the kids get excited, too.
- Sun. I’ll be honest, I really, really, really like the rain. Really. I love the mist and the sweaters and the puddles and short, dark days of grey light. But my joints don’t. I am thinking the warmer climate will bring a welcome change to my creaky frame.
- The Princess has been studying Spanish, and here is a great opportunity for her to use it.
- Good Mexican food. Because Washington state is far enough away from the point of origin, it is almost impossible to find good Mexican up here. Honestly, salmon tacos with blackberry mango salsa?! *shudder*
- In a city that big, the homeschool conferences are going to be awesome. I hope. Co-ops and support groups are plentiful enough, I am hoping we can jump in and get involved somewhere.
- Since it is such a accessible, likable city, it is super easy for people to come visit.
I keep adding to the list when something new comes to mind, and I encourage the Hooligans to think of more, too. I’m trying to get that list to be longer than the to-do lists. Life is too short to nurse the gloom.
I am not a dog person. I keep saying that. But I am being won over totally against my will by this canine type thing we took in a month ago.
How could anyone not be charmed? True, he follows me around like someone with a codepenancy disorder. And he also smells awful. Worst of all, he produces copious amounts of poo, and dog poo is easily the most disgusting substance in the universe. (I have been directly barfed on – multiple times – by all three kiddos, and I would rather get nailed again than clean up after the hound.)
But he has these ears, see, and he let’s me pet them. He lets me drape them over his sleepy face. He is very generous with his ears.
He snores. Normally, this would be a bad thing. But he has magic snores that are amusing in the daytime and yet better than a sleeping pill at night. Those snore even work subliminally – I will start nodding off in the middle of a movie, only to realize that Petey’s soothing deep breathing is the culprit.
Best of all, he is very, very silly. I am not a silly person – I may be weird or odd or downright doofussy, but not terribly silly. Isn’t it just like a dog to help you remember silliness? He is all shameless physicality and glee. He has zero dignity or grace. And he doesn’t care one bit if you laugh at him. Actually, he takes it as a compliment. With someone like that in your life, you sort of have to be silly and shameless back.