Unhistoric Acts

sunday mornings

This is the scene I found in the living room this Sunday morning. Parker has his church clothes on but has been overtaken by a wave of fatigue. Indie comforts and consoles. Many thanks to Indie. I'm telling you, that dog is worth her weight in gold. I'm not even kidding.

This being the house of many teenagers, we have a glorious few hours of Sunday nap each week. The house is calm and quiet. Most often Parker is up and about (having overcome his morning grumpiness). This afternoon I found him on the computer researching items for his Halloween costume. He wants to be an assassin.

Here are the items he will need (according to Parker): camouflage pants, black t-shirt, tactical vest, machine gun, two hand guns, and a briefcase full of money.

Hmmmm. I'm extremely conflicted on how to handle such a situation. My girls never had inclinations in the killing direction, for which I'm grateful. Should I just encourage his imagination? Should I think "boys will be boys?" Should I sign him up for therapy? I'm just not sure, but I really don't like the idea of him pretending to kill. Just doesn't seem right. And still, the briefcase with money does seem like a fun prop. Any suggestions?

I'm off to prepare Sunday dinner. Got a pork roast in the oven, a watermelon chilling in the fridge, and two brand-new bottles of Magic Shell for brownie sundaes. Sterling has a long history of affection with the Magic Shell, and I just love to spoil my man.

Magic Shell all around!!

happy saturday...

More pillowcases. I made these for two good friends who had birthdays this week (well, one had her birthday a few weeks ago...but she's very forgiving). While I was at the fabric store I had a bit of an existential crisis over whether these cases should match their existing bedroom decor...but then I decided, no, I'd just pick something beautiful. It's not that I don't like to match...but lately I'm up for beautiful just for the sake of beautiful. It's a really freeing concept. Try it.

The white one I did with crochet thread. I'm not sure I like the finished product as much as the yarn...the thread seems less...forgiving. And when it comes to crochet, I need LOTS of forgiveness. As in boatloads.

We had little cousin visitors at 8 AM this morning. The girls had agreed to babysit for the morning, and they all pitched in to keep these kids happy. There was painted fingernails and toenails for Jane, and lots of ipad and cars for Will (what he really wanted was my small vacuum...but I kept telling him the vacuum was napping (??)). Parker was a huge help with Will, which just warms the cockels of my mother's heart. Parker is the baby of this house, so I'm glad to see he can be so selfless with the little ones.

See those big 10-year-old hands helping out? I do love the helping out. That's what it's all about. Right?

 

it's a scorcher

I read an article put out by the Texas A&M Ag department today that this July is the hottest (in Texas) on record, and their records go back to the late nineteenth century.

No doubt.

It is hot. And dry. And we are pretty muched holed up in the air conditioning. Most evenings I try to run around 8 PM. Before I've even crossed the first mile mark I'm dripping with sweat. On the way back I'm generally naseous. Two nights ago I completely gave up after about a mile and a half. I'm a sad, sad, sweaty white woman trying to stave off the effects of age and cupcakes...not an easy task. You'd think Mother Nature could throw me a bone. She's a mother after all. She knows about the chub. Right?

The pool is moving....slowly...but moving.

This is the progress after a full day and a half of work on that back wall. It's not that they aren't doing a great job. They are. And it's not that I don't understand the need for frequent breaks in this heat. I do. It's just that the tediously slow progress makes me a little crazy. I want to go out there and take a turn for a while. I want to come up with a better game plan. I want to call in reinforcements.

And since I'm absolutely certain that these stone guys don't want my two cents...I might just make up a pitcher of cold Crystal Light and take it out to them.

And then I'll stop looking out the back window...although it's a little like a train wreck....can't. look. away.

on draggin' the sprinkler...

At the same moment pool construction began, our sprinkler system was destroyed...meaning the back hoe tore it to smithereens. And apparently it can't be put back together until after the decking is poured. So the only thing standing between me and dead grass is this $8.99 sprinkler from HEB. And let me tell you -- it works mighty fine.

That little ole' sprinkler is giving some structure to my days. Every 15 minutes I go outside, calculate my steps to avoid the majority of the spray, and then drag in to a new locale. Then, and this is the important part, I stand back to survey the arc and trajectory of the water. I ponder on whether I am using the rotating mechanism to its utmost efficiency.

Probably not.

Surprisingly, I rather enjoy the sprinkling chore. It's a good and summery task and as the calendar flipped to August today I feel the need to hold onto summer with both hands. I'm not sure if we've had enough popsicles, or slept in long enough, or watched enough HGTV. I think we could do with a bit more outdoor grilling, empty days to fill, and possibly even some homemade ice cream. Because even though Fall is my most favorite season, I'm just not ready for the schedules and the homework and the EARLY MORNING SEMINARY!

[Insert me bawling here.]

That's all. Back to my sprinkler.