OBVIOUS

While eating grapes and having a philosophical discussion with The Mermaids about what it meant to be “on” the table, (another post) the subject came up about whether or not the book, on the table, was moving.
I said it was moving, very quickly, in THAT> direction. (at THAT point I gestured to the east) referring vaguely to an earlier discussion about the rotation of the Earth.
Abby, gave me a quizzical look and I said:

I know we’re moving that way because…look..where did the sun come up this morning?
(she pointed straight North)
What? C’mon, where did the sun come up?
(she pointed straight North again) It came up TH^AT way!
No it…

Emma, at this point, was quietly picking seeds out of her huge red grapes and listening casually to the inane and even banal conversation about books and movement. I brought her into the conversation for some, shall we say, levity. She is usually very observant, I think, and would help me set her sister straight.

…Emma?
What?
Where did the sun come up?
IN THE SKY!!

Abby felt re-invigorated in her position.
I was duly straightened.
Emma? She ate her grape.

Dirt

This was originally going to be a post about how much cool stuff we have done in the last couple days to our yard.
Followed by some description of the agony in my hamstrings (saved my back by bending my legs) caused by the net movement of about 6,480 lbs of concrete (move twenty seven 60# bags four times each and you’ll see what I mean).

But…

Like all good things around here that story was overridden once I dove into the copious amounts of pictures I took of The Mermaids during this same weekend.

With competition like that, why bother with more complaining.
Although it was something like THIS!!

hoo wahhhhh
Oooh, me hammy!

But I digress.

It started with the biggest mountain of dirt TheWeeOne had ever seen.
She scaled it. Why?
Because it was there.

iz conquerin yer dirt

I filled up one of our raised garden boxes that night while it rained and TheWeeOne conquered mountains.

The next day, LaGrande wasn’t to be denied. Despite dance pictures later in the day, she bravely donned gloves to keep her fingernails clean.
She came, she saw, …

iz gonna roll in yer dirt

… she repeatedly rolled down.

iz rollin in yer dirt

Much bending later and tens of rolled strips of sod, several more trips to the dirt pile, and 10 bags of concrete later, we had another day. This time the sun was out and the parents were a bit more prepared for copious amounts of dirt. We even had a babysitter…sleeping in. Here we have a good likeness of said babysitter.

iz becoming one wit yer dirt

The Meerkats couldn’t stand it any longer, they had to get down and dirty.

iz one wit yer dirt

And what a difference a day (or two) makes. Whereas TheWeeOne couldn’t do anything, up or down, without a helping hand on Friday night here we see her inciting her older mermaid to take the NesDirt plunge.

iz antigravity dirt

Maybe someday I will have the time to show before and after shots of the actual yard-work. Until that time we will keep playing in the dirt.

Happy Birthday WeeOne

[sigh]
The WeeOne isn’t so wee anymore.
Today we celebrated her fourth birthday and we did it in style.

The day would have started off with the traditional breakfast in bed…except…like so many other days The WeeOne was first on the scene. We settled for presents in the living room instead.
Happy Birthday To Me

She was ecstatic to have received yet another Barbie (YAB) and matching dresses for her and her twin-doll, Ruthie.
Happy Birthday To Me,
Happy Birthday To Me,

Soon we decided that a day out and about was called for.
The girls wanted to play at the Fun Center – which they did.
I sure am

We then had lunch in the jungle. This turned out to be one of the less comforting meals we’ve had together – all the moving animals and thunderstorms didn’t leave The WeeOne at ease.
a big girl

But we saved the day with a haircut that made The WeeOne both very happy and appear, decidedly, not so wee.
and I'm
no longer

Then, an evening at home, some dinner, some grandparents, YAB, some fun homemade party hats, and a MUCH sprinkled cake (followed by a massive crash into much crying* at bedtime) meant there was more than enough fun to spread around.
Happy Birthday Memma.
three

* Much crying was followed, extremely quickly, by much snoring.

 

The Bunny Cometh

The Wee One postulated and explained to us exactly why the carrots we were leaving out for the Easter Bunny were so important.

The Girl will eat her carrots and the Boy will eat his carrots and then they will fall in love and kiss each other and leave eggs ALLLL over the place.

Then with a mock crawl stroke she added

Like a swimming pool!

ʎɹɐuoısıʌ ɟo ǝʇısoddo ǝɥʇ

˙ʇuıod ʇɐɥʇ oʇ dn ʇɥbıu ʎɯ ǝpɐɯ ʎןןɐǝɹ ʇı ‘ʎɐs ɐʇʇob ı ‘ןןɐ ʇı ɟo ǝɔɹɐɟ ǝɥʇ ʇnq ʇı ʇnoqɐ ʇǝsdn ʎןןɐǝɹ ʎןqɐqoɹd ǝɹǝʍ noʎ ˙buoɹʍ sɐʍ ʇɐɥʍ ʍouʞ oʇ pǝsoddns sɐʍ ı ǝʞıן ǝɹɐʇs ǝʎǝ-ןıʌǝ ǝɥʇ puɐ ʇıxǝ ʞɔınb ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ dn ןןɐ ʇı ʍoןןoɟ uǝɥʇ ˙ʎןqɐʇɹoɟɯoɔ buısınɹɔ sɐʍ ı ǝןıɥʍ ʇɹoɟɟǝ ɯnɯıxɐɯ ʇɐ ssɐd-ǝɹ ǝɥʇ uǝɥʇ puɐ ǝɯ puıɥǝq ǝsoןɔ sǝıqqouʞ ‘ǝʌıssǝɹbbɐ-ǝʌıssɐd ɹnoʎ ɟo punos ǝɥʇ sɐʍ ʎuunɟ ʎןןɐǝɹ sɐʍ ʇɐɥʍ ˙pǝǝds ʇɐɥʇ ʇɐ sǝǝuʞ ɹnoʎ ɥʇıʍ ǝʌɐǝɥ-ʇsoɹɟ ɐ ǝןpuɐɥ pןnoɔ noʎ ɟı ǝǝs puɐ puıɥǝq ʎɐʇs oʇ pǝuıןɔuı ʇ’usɐʍ puɐ ɹǝʇsɐɟ ɥɔnɯ buıob sɐʍ ı ʇnq qʇɯ ɹnoʎ uo os ɹo 61 buıop ǝɹǝʍ noʎ ‘pǝʇuɐɹb ˙ssǝnb ʎɯ s’ʇɐɥʇ ¿ǝsoןɔ ooʇ sǝssɐd ʇɐɥʇ uosɹǝd ǝɥʇ uo ǝʇɐɥ noʎ ǝʞɐɯ ʇou pןnoɥs ɔıɟɟɐɹʇ ɟo ʇunoɯɐ ʇɐɥʇ uı spuɐɥ ou ɥʇıʍ ǝʞɹnq ǝɥʇ ʇnoqɐ buıʇɹoʌɐɔ ʇnq ˙ssǝnb ʎןuo uɐɔ ı ‘dn pǝɹıɟ noʎ ʇob ʇɐɥʍ ʍouʞ ʇ’uop ı ‘uɐɯ *
–—

If you tried to help me out and did what that “intruder” said then you will realize that this is STILL posted on April First. APRIL FOOLS.

˙ɹǝʇǝǝʍs ɥɔnɯ ʇɐɥʇ ןǝǝɟ ןןıʍ ʎɐp sןooɟ ןıɹdɐ ‘ʎɐp ןɐuoısnןǝp uo ɟןǝsɹnoʎ ʞuɐɹd noʎ ɟı

˙ʎןןɐǝɹ ¡ɔıdǝ ǝq ןן’ʇı ˙sʎɐp ʎɹoןb ǝɥʇ ǝʌıןǝɹ ‘uoɯ’ɔ ˙ǝʞɐs sǝɯıʇ pןo ɹoɟ ʇsnظ ‘ɟɟo ǝuo ǝɹıɟ ‘ʞɹɐɯ ɹǝʇɐʍ ɥbıɥ ןɐuıbıɹo ɹnoʎ buıʌǝıɥɔɐ oʇuı ʇuǝʍ ʇɐɥʇ uoıʇɐɹɐdǝɹd ɹo ʇɥbnoɥʇ ǝɥʇ ɟo uoıʇɔɐɹɟ ɐ ʇnoɥʇıʍ puɐ ןɐob pǝɥsıןdɯoɔɔɐ ʎןsnoıʌǝɹd ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐʇ ‘ʇs13 ɥɔɹɐɯ uo ‘uǝɥʇ

˙ǝɯoɔ oʇ ʎɐp ǝɥʇ ɟo ʇɔɐdɯı ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ sdןǝɥ ʇı ˙ɥsǝɹɟ ʇuǝɯǝʌǝıɥɔɐ ɟo ǝsuǝs ʇɐɥʇ dǝǝʞ oʇ ʇuɐʍ noʎ ˙buoן ooʇ ʇou ʇnq ‘ןɐob ʇɐɥʇ pǝɥsıןdɯoɔɔɐ ǝʌɐɥ noʎ ɹǝʇɟɐ ǝɯıʇ ɟo poıɹǝd ʎןpoob ɐ ɹoɟ…ʇıɐʍ…uǝɥʇ

¡ʇı ɹoɟ obIf you tried to help me out and did what that “intruder” said then you will realize that this is STILL posted on April First. APRIL FOOLS.

˙ןɐob ɹnoʎ uıɐʇʇɐ uɐɔ noʎ ʞɔnן ǝɯos ǝqʎɐɯ puɐ ǝɔuǝbıןıp ɥʇıʍ ˙pɹɐɥ…ʇı ʇɐ ʞɹoʍ ‘ʇı uɹɐǝן ‘ʇı ʎɹʇ˙ǝɯıʇ ǝɥʇ ʞooʇ ɹǝʌǝu ʇnq unɟ ǝq pןnoʍ ʇɐɥʇ buıssɐd uı ʇnoqɐ ʇɥbnoɥʇ ǝʌɐɥ noʎ buıɥʇǝɯos ɟo ʞuıɥʇ ¡ʇı op uɐɔ noʎ ˙ɟןǝsɹnoʎ ɹoɟ ןɐob ɐ buıʇʇǝs ʎq ʇɹɐʇs ˙ʎɐʍ sıɥʇ ʇı ʇnoqɐ ʞuıɥʇIf you tried to help me out and did what that “intruder” said then you will realize that this is STILL posted on April First. APRIL FOOLS.

˙ʞןɐʇ ʎzɐɹɔ ʇsnظ s’ʇɐɥʇ – ʇɐɥʇ ʇnoqɐ buıʞןɐʇ ʇou ɯɐ ı ˙ɹoıʌɐɥǝq pǝsıʌpɐ ןןı ɟo ʇno sǝıʌoɯ ǝʞɐɯ ʇɐɥʇ ǝןdoǝd ǝɹɐ ǝɹǝɥʇ

˙ǝɟɐs ʇǝʎ ‘pǝsıʌpɐ ןןı ɥʇoq sı ɥɔıɥʍ ɹǝɥʇo ɹo ʇɔɐ ǝɯos oʇuı ɟןǝsɹnoʎ ǝpnןǝp noʎ uǝɥʍ ɹɐǝʎ ǝɥʇ ɟo ʎɐp ʇɐɥʇ
˙ʎɐp ןɐuoısnןǝp sɐ ʇs13 ɥɔɹɐɯ buıɔunouuɐ ʎqǝɹǝɥ ɯɐ ı ʎɐp sןooɟ ןıɹdɐ sɐ uoıʇıpɐɹʇ pǝıɹoʇs puɐ snoıɹoןb ɐ ɥɔns ɟo ɹouoɥ uı ‘osIf you tried to help me out and did what that “intruder” said then you will realize that this is STILL posted on April First. APRIL FOOLS.

˙ǝpıɹ ɹnoɥ snןd-ǝǝɹɥʇ ɐ oʇuı pǝuɹnʇ ǝpıɹ ɹnoɥ oʍʇ ʎɯ ˙ɹnoɥ uɐ ɹǝʌo ǝןʇʇıן ɐ uı ‘pןoɔ ǝɥʇ ǝɯoɔɹǝʌo oʇ ǝןqɐun ‘puıʍ ʎɥʇןɐǝɥ ɐ oʇuı ǝnʌǝןןǝq ɯoɹɟ sǝןıɯ 01 ʇsɐן ǝɥʇ pǝɥsıuıɟ ı ʇɐɥʇ ‘ʍoן os ˙ʍoן ʎןǝɯǝɹʇxǝ sɐʍ ʎbɹǝuǝ ʎɯ ʇnq sʇsɹnq ʇɹoɥs ɹoɟ sbǝן ʎɯ uı ɥʇbuǝɹʇs poob pɐɥ ןןıʇs ı ǝsnɐɔǝq pǝʞuoq ʎןnɹʇ ı ʎɐs ʇ’upןnoʍ ıIf you tried to help me out and did what that “intruder” said then you will realize that this is STILL posted on April First. APRIL FOOLS.FO

˙spǝǝds ǝsoɥʇ ʇɐ ǝpıɹ ǝɔuɐɹnpuǝ uɐ ɹoɟ ǝdıɔǝɹ ʇsǝq ǝɥʇ ʇou sı ǝɯ puıɥǝq ʞɹoʍ ɟo ʎɐp buoן ɐ puɐ ‘doʇs oʇ ǝɯıʇ ou ‘ɹǝʇɐʍ ou ‘pooɟ ou

˙ʇuǝɯǝbpnظ ɟo ɹoɹɹǝ ןɐɔıʇıɹɔ ɐ uo pǝssnɔoɟ ı ʇɐɥʇ ǝɯıʇ sıɥʇ ʇnoqɐ osןɐ sɐʍ ʇı ˙ǝɔɐɟ ʎɯ uı ‘dn pǝʞɔıʞ puıʍ buıuǝʌǝ ǝɥʇ uǝɥʇ

˙ǝıbbıq ou ‘ɥǝɯ ˙ǝpıɹ ʎɯ oʇ sʞɔoןq ʍǝɟ ɐ pǝppɐ puɐ puɐןʞɹıʞ uı ʇsoן ʇob ı ןıʇun…puɐןʞɹıʞ oʇuı ʇuǝɔsǝp ǝןıɯ ǝǝɹɥʇ ǝɥʇ pǝʎoظuǝ ʎןןɐǝɹ ı ˙poob ʎןןɐǝɹ buıןǝǝɟ sɐʍ ı puɐ – ʇno ǝɔıu os sɐʍ ʇı ˙ǝɔɐd ןnɟɹǝpuoʍ ɐ ʇɐ ןןıɥ ǝɥʇ dn pǝʞuɐɹɔ ı ˙ʇou pıp ɯsɐısnɥʇuǝ ʎɯ ʇnq pǝddoɹp pǝǝds ǝbɐɹǝʌɐ ʎɯ puɐ ɐʇıuɐnظ ʇɐ ןןıɥ ǝɥʇ ʞooʇ ı uǝɥʍ

¡ʇǝǝʍɥns ˙ɥdɯ81 ɟo ǝbɐɹǝʌɐ uɐ ʇɐ sǝןıɯ 04 ˙ʎןןɐǝɹ ‘ןɐuoıʇɐɹ – sɹnoɥ 2 ɹǝʌo ʇsnظ ɟo ןɐʇoʇ ɐ uı ǝɯoɥ ʇı ǝʞɐɯ pןnoʍ ı pǝɹnbıɟ ı
*˙buıɔı ǝɥʇ sɐʍ ɹǝʞıq uıɐʇunoɯ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ǝɔɐɹ ”uǝʌǝ-ʇǝb“ ǝɥʇ
˙ɹǝbboɹɟ ɟo uoısɹǝʌ p3 ɐ ǝʞıן sɐʍ sʇsıןɔʎɔ puɐ suɐıɹʇsǝpǝd ɹǝɥʇo ǝɥʇ ɟo ןןɐ buıpıoʌɐ ‘ɹnoɥ uɐ sǝןıɯ +22 ʇɐ uɐɯןıb ǝʞɹnq ʇɐןɟ ǝɥʇ buoןɐ buıqɯoq ‘ʇɐǝɹb ʇno pǝʇɹɐʇs ʇı

˙ǝɹoɯuǝʞ ɐıʌ ‘ǝɯoɥ ʎɐʍ buoן ǝɥʇ oıʌןıs ǝʞıqznɹɔ ʎɯ ǝpıɹ oʇ pǝpıɔǝp ı ‘ʇuǝɯoɯ ǝɥʇ ɟo ɹnds ǝɥʇ uo ’03:91 ʇɐ os ˙ɯןɐɔ puɐ ɯɹɐʍ ؛ʇno ǝɔıu sɐʍ ʇı ʇɥbıu ʇsɐן

Cookie ears

We delivered frozen cookies to the neighbor just now. They were ordered last month in yafr (yet another fundraiser).
The neighbor likely forgot she had ordered them and asked

Did I already pay for these?
Yes.
Okay. I just ordered some more from my grandson!
(now addressing the girls in that singsong kid voice)
We are going to have cookies coming out of our ears!

A momentary somewhat uncomfortable silence followed while the girls parsed this strange sounding idiom.

The Wee Mermaid broke the silence with a nervous giggle and said

Well, our ears aren’t like that

Strolling

Biking, for me, is the most reliable & enjoyable way to get into and out of town. To get “there” it wins hands down but…

If I need to get there post-haste then the absolute fastest way (short of a motorcycle) is to go multi-modal and combine a bike ride with a trip on The Sounder. But…

If I miss the train I wait. And further some of the benefit of the bike ride is gone while the burden of a nip-tuck schedule weighs on my mind and negatively affects my trip across town. But…

If I take the bus I walk. And if I walk on a day like today, when the weather is calm, and when the pressure to get there isn’t primary…well…then…nothing compares to a leisurely stroll through The Market.

The smell of the pastries, the bustle of shopkeepers folding their mobile stations up for the night, a short cup of coffee in your hand, and all of the wacky, harried, smelly, angry, zoned out, and beautiful people doing their thang!

Even a leisurely bike ride across town can’t compare. The inhospitable nature of a city street is only exceeded by the sterile and emotionless freeway for the reward it brings you. The sidewalk is the best place when you are just being there and not really in need of getting there.

If you have the occasion, take a stroll and soak it all in.