Another blistering day

My next door neighbors promise me this is the hottest summer they've ever seen. Today is expected to reach triple digits with high humidity. The heat index could be as high as 121 degrees for a few hours in the afternoon. Fortunately, things are supposed to "cool down" on Sunday and for next week with highs "only" in the low 90's.

Average temperatures for July and August are 89 degrees, so this truly is a hot summer that just won't stop. I am definitely looking forward to autumn.

And I really can't complain. Bill suggested taking a blow dryer outside and turning it full blast in my face to simulate Kuwait. No, thanks.

Jane Austen's Fight Club

Hilarious.

Road trip

Heading down to Florida for a few days where it is actually slightly cooler than my part of Georgia. It's nice that going to my parents' house isn't quite the production it usually is. I have a gung-ho attitude that has me convinced the drive is "short," and, while 7+ hours is much shorter than 15, there is a tiny nagging voice telling me that 7 hours in a car with a 2 year old who doesn't like the car could easily feel like 15. I am trying to ignore that voice, prefering optimism to realism. If I weren't optimistic I would not even attempt the drive.

Note for future reference

Do not attempt an Italian meringue buttercream frosting (with rum) when the temps are in the upper 90's and the humidity is palpable.

Also note that putting soupy Italian meringue buttercream frosting (with rum) in the refrigerator will thicken it up, but not in time for the party that begins a half hour after you discover that Italian meringue buttercream frosting (with rum) won't take in your sauna- esque kitchen.

Also note that Italian meringue buttercream frosting (with rum) tastes quite good soupy, slightly thick, and been-in-the-fridge-since-yesterday thick. Failure to have useable icing for my party yesterday just means more for me.

New Job Title

Poop Doula.

Wherein I spend a whole lot of time encouraging a toddler to push.

Ambitions

Coincidentally, I'm reading Haystack Full of Needles. I say "coincidentally" because this book was not on my summer reading list, but it just came my way. I also say "coincidentally" because Fritz happens to be reading Henry V for his upcoming school year which I happen to be planning right now. And Alice Gunther just happens to have a whole chapter on doing Shakespearean plays with other homeschoolers. And I just happened to have read that this morning.

And a big part of me is saying, "Oh, I could do that. I could produce Henry V with our home school group."

And a big part of me is saying, "No, you do not have time or energy for that."

And the first part says, "Theater is fun! have fun with your school year!"

And the second part retorts, "Fritz does not like getting up in front of people and performing. This would not be fun."

And the crazy side of me says, "He'll be fine. He needs to explore new growth opportunities."

And the debate rages on. I think it's time to return the book.

Yesterday, in photos

Fritz said, "Mom, look! My hair is half brown and half blond!" I told him people actually pay good money for highlights like his. No chemicals here: that's sun bleaching. I wonder what it will look like when he gets it cut.

This is a jig-saw puzzle that Fritz completed with a little help from his sisters and me. He took the picture. Notice the conquering hero's planted foot...on the kitchen table.

Peter said he was too tired to clean up his toys. And then he proved his point by passing out on the kitchen floor.

Jenny got an early Christmas present: her two front teeth.

Flowers and diamonds

The rose bush in the front of the house first bloomed back in May or early June. When the blooms began to fade, I thought that was it. But my husband went out and cut off all the dead heads and a few weeks later, we had more blooms. Since then, he has been fairly regular in trimming away the dead flowers and as a result, we have a fairly continuous bounty of pretty flowers greeting us as we come and go.




Some gals get roses via FTD delivered to their front door for a special occasion. I get them every day.
















Yesterday, as I was saying goodbye to my husband before work, I noticed the dew on the rose bush. The petals and leaves appeared to be covered in diamonds. Gorgeous.

Pancakes for Bedtime

Last night I "read" Pancakes for Breakfast by Tomie De Paola to Mary before bed. I prefaced the story by telling Mary that this book had been Jenny's favorite when she was little. "Do you remember that?" I asked my almost seven year old. It was 3 or 4 years ago, but she remembered.

As Mary and I went through the story of the poor woman who has to work so hard for her pancake breakfast, Jenny listened from her bed and contributed words and commentary. Jenny and I had looked at this book so many times when she was a toddler, and I would say the same things each time. Her words quoted me from all those long past readings.

When we were done, Mary said, "Again," but I said no. I did say, though, that she could look through the pictures herself while she snuggled in my lap and we rocked in the chair in the dimly lit room. "But I can't read," sighed my little dramatist with flair learned from her older sisters.

"You don't need to read it, honey," I said. "There aren't any words anyway."

"No words?" asked Jenny.

"Nope."

"You mean it's a picture book?"

"Yes, honey," I said as gently as possible. These little growing-up moments are so precious to me.

One day, perhaps, Jenny will have a little girl of her own, and I will be sure she has a copy of this book. And I bet it will still be my words that she "reads" to her daughter.

Sickbed ramblings

I've been sick all week. Of course, my husband has been gone all week. I was so bad that at some point I made lemonade using a canister of mix, but I accidentally used twice the amount. And I drank that, all week, with only a vague idea that it was really really sweet.

The boys came home on Thursday. Fritz came home coughing. I didn't give it to him. Early this morning I relocated my exhausted body to the couch for some more rest. The elevated position helps a bit with my congestion. A few hours later, Fritz woke me up and told me his fever was really high. How high? "A hundred and six," he said. That got me wide awake fast. Of course, it wasn't 106, it was 100.6. Big difference.

We were supposed to go camping this weekend. The healthy ones are disappointed. I'd be disappointed too if my head didn't throb.

Friday morning, first thing, my computer broke. Same exact problem as last November. At least this time they were honest and said it would take 3 weeks to send me a new computer. I didn't call them. The kids had swim lessons in the morning, so I had no time, and later, I knew I would not be...polite. I waited until Bill returned from Oklahoma, and let him call them. At least this time I can use Bill's laptop for all my school planning and to pay bills online. And to blog.

Or maybe I'll just get some other stuff done around the house.

Right after my breathing doesn't involve achy coughing.

Around these parts, school starts at the beginning of August. I like to follow, roughly, the local school calendar, which means we only have two more weeks of summer vacation. I could take more, but I'm trying a new plan this year where I am scheduling one very light school week every 4 or 5 weeks. That's the week where I hope to neatly fit things like dentist appointments or field trips or post-summer vacations at the beach.

Dutiful Sons

Fritz and Billy are away at camp through tomorrow. I had asked them to please send me a letter and provided stamped and addressed envelopes. I even showed them where the outgoing mail was collected and told them to get it there by Tuesday or I wouldn't receive it before their return. Sure enough, I got two letters in the mail today.

The letters are typical of their personalities. Billy's has zero details, but is very neat and everything is spelled correctly. Fritz's letter is messy, and perhaps half the words are correctly spelled. Punctuation seems to be optional. But, I learned they went to mini-golf, batting cages, a "dolfin cruse," and the beach, that the food is OK, and that they would be going to a local fort that day (he named the wrong one, but I know what he meant).

I am thrilled that they did as I requested!

More toiletry kits

I made three more of those BEST toiletry kits EVER. The one on the left is for our friend, Connor. It is almost identical to the one I made for Fritz. The one in the middle is for Billy. I used the tan fabric for the trim and handles so the boys could know at a glance which bag belonged to whom. The bag on the right is for our friend, Emma (Connor's sister).






I used a different closure for Connor's bag than I did for Fritz's. I like this closure better, but there wasn't enough room on Billy's kit to fit it. The uniforms I'm using are different styles and different sizes, so the pieces aren't going to cut out consistently. It's what makes each bag so unique.

Emma picked out a hot pink flannel fabric. I did not buy this fabric; it was pulled from leftovers from other projects (I made bags for the girls' to carry their ballet shoes using this flannel). Again, this entire project was zero cost, which suits me very well right now. I think the hot pink looks fabulous with the green woodland camo pattern.

War games

Army man playing with Army men.

The usual Friday afternoon adventure: war and beer.

Hot as an oven - inside and out

Sleeping on the couch in the pre-dawn hours with a feverish toddler on your chest is like snuggling up to a furnace. That's OK in January, but pretty uncomfortable in July when the forecast is calling for triple digit temps and a heat index of up to 109 degrees.

I'm not complaining, though. I'm just remembering romantic scenes that played out in my head before I actually had children: the tender mother pulling an all-nighter, rocking her sick child, wiping a sweaty brow, kissing a damp hairline. Fortunately, Mary wasn't as crabby as my sick kids tend to be, and I do not also have a needy infant draining my reserves day and night. Last night was the closest I've ever gotten to that "perfect" infirmary scene.

Still, I couldn't help but wish that the ibuprofen would work a little faster to help her settle down a little sooner so we could both get some sleep.

St. Damien of Molokai - Apostle of the Exiled

I don't even remember when I received this book from The Catholic Company. Before the move...and that was January. I am not a diligent book reviewer. I do the best I can.

I read St. Damien of Molokai - Apostle of the Exiled by Margaret & Matthew Bunson. Right up front, I want to say that I did like the book. I learned quite a bit about the history of Hawaii, the personal background of St. Damien as well as many people who knew him, the conditions at the leprosy camp on Molokai, and St. Damien's work there with the lepers.

There were a few things, however, that were...different...from other biographies I have enjoyed. First of all, the book is not strictly chronological. The chapters are set up to cover specific topics. The chapter itself will be mainly chronological, but then the next chapter will deal with different people or issues. That chapter will also be fairly chronological, but the time period may overlap the previous chapter, so the authors may take you back in time to cover these new topics. It took me a few chapters to catch on to this, so I was a bit confused at first and the book felt very jumpy.

Besides being a bit disjointed in time, the biggest problem with this method of presenting a biography is that I felt like I was looking at a series of snapshots rather than a movie. It was very difficult for me to see the big picture and all the various issues that were happening at once. St. Damien was dealing with many many issues all at the same time: politics, personality conflicts with his superiors and other people on the island, the stress of being isolated, the stress of working with ostracized people who were dying, the challenges of living with leprosy, the strain of being the subject of unflattering gossip. When these topics are brought up one at a time, it makes it easier to discuss that particular topic in detail, but harder for the reader to grasp the overall significance of having that stress along with everything else that was happening to the man.

The only other disappointment I had was that there was no dramatization of his life. No dialogues, no painted scenes. The authors stuck with the facts as they were known. They quoted letters, notes, diaries, but they did not re-invent a scene. I admire them for sticking with the facts and not wanting to "quote" a man when there is no proof that he said those exact words. But, personally, it was hard for me to get a good idea of his personality without him being fleshed out through dialogue, thoughts, or actions.

I hate to write bad things about a book, which is probably why I procrastinated on this post.

So, to conclude I want to repeat that I did think this is a well-researched, well-written book. I learned many things I did not know about Hawaii and the leper colony as well as about the most famous non-native Hawaiian. The drawbacks are my own personal preferences, and had I known about them in advance, I might not have been as bothered by them.

I received this book for free from The Catholic Company in exchange for my honest review. If you blog and would like to be a Catholic Company reviewer and receive free books (they don't pressure you to do your reviews quickly, I assure you), then check out this link.

Tomatoes

My cherry tomato plants have been popping out plenty of yummy morsels of heaven. Very few have made it indoors and none have actually made it to a salad. I'll put a small handful in a bowl on the counter, and they'll be gone in very short order. Everybody should have a cherry tomato plant growing in their yard.

My plant with the big red tomatoes has been producing a good number of fruit as well. I've had probably 30% of the crop lost to bugs of some kind: worms, and this nasty black beetle thingy. Bill suggested a pesticide, but I just couldn't do it. I eat that stuff. Yes, I buy regular veggies at the store and I know they've been sprayed...but I don't see that happening. I just can't knowingly spray my own food. If you think I'm crazy, you and my husband can shake your heads at me together. The big tomatoes are quite good and we've been enjoying BLTs, burgers and grilled cheese with thick slabs of deliciousness.

I was really frustrated by my 4th plant which had a plethora of tomatoes, but before they had a chance to turn red, they would rot away, victimized by an unseen menace. I finally figured out this weekend that the culprit was TIME. They weren't red tomatoes, they were yellow tomatoes, so they had gotten overripe and then rotted on the vine. Lesson: know your tomatoes.

Finally, here's the dessert we had last night: berry dessert pizza. The dough is sugar cookie dough. The sauce is cream cheese frosting, and I used strawberries and blueberries for topping. If you really love your family, you will make it from scratch, of course. But just in case you feel pinched for time or there is a great sale at the local supermarket, one package of store-bought dough and one container of frosting are the perfect amounts for the pie. I thought I was doing a great service by neatly arranging the berries instead of just tossing them on. One caveat: this pizza does not keep. The cookie will be soggy by morning, so be generous in dishing it out.

Enjoy your holiday Monday.

Beautiful weather we're having here

For the first time in weeks, I actually have the windows open and a lovely breeze is coming in. It's even a tiny bit nippy on the porch swing. Things are expected to be back to normal tomorrow. Drat.

Five years old

My littlest boy turned 5 years old yesterday.

He wanted a high speed chase/crash cake.

I put the cars in the dishwasher the night before and it destroyed the paint finish (these cars are several years old anyway). Of course, the peeling paint just added a certain realism to the whole crash scenario.

Then he picked these champagne bottle candles (which we used for an adult cake many years ago). Nice touch. Notice the dripping gel used to write "Happy Birthday Peter." I've been trying to get rid of that stuff for a long time.

Happy birthday, my little man.