While watering my backyard herbs, this little guy decided to visit and critique my actions. He does not look terribly impressed. Or perhaps he was there to let me know that the humming bird feeder was low.
I found this large feather floating in our swimming pool after the humming bird moved on. Not his, of course, but it gave me a moment to think on the great variety nature provides.
James likes to snuggle while reading, recognizing the social aspect of the activity. He enjoys the sarcastic and often anthropomorphic wit of Gary Larson’s Far Side cartoons.
Sasha, also a connoisseur of comics, enjoys old school newspaper comics, sometimes napping part way through her read.
Haley savors the novels she reads and can often be seen gazing contemplatively out the window or chewing on her bone, while deep in thought about a particular character or plot line.
Summer is the time for me to binge read. Each trip to the library, I pick up 3-4 books from the “new fiction” or “best picks” area that catch my eye (yes, I judge a book by it’s cover sometimes). I love to snuggle with James, nap with Sasha, or contemplate my reads with Haley. Summer reading is so enjoyable, especially with my fur friends!
A week ago I wrote a letter to Carter. His Boy Scout troop had reservations for a week long camping trip up by the rim, near Payson. He had not left yet at the time of my letter writing, they were scheduled to leave on Saturday, but the Scoutmaster strongly suggested getting letters in the mail early, as delivery up there is notoriously slow. So I did.
The letter was mailed last Thursday. On the evening before departure, his massive hiking backpack loaded to near explosion, we received an email that his camp was canceled with the possibility of rescheduling due to a forest fire. At the time of the email, it was the air quality that was of concern and the current campers were being evacuated. We clung to the possibility of camp being rescheduled and kept our eye on the news.
In case you have not heard, Arizona is on fire.
The cancelation of the camping trip was hard on Carter, but it was an opportunity to think about the bigger picture. The firefighters, the evacuated campers and towns, the fleeing wildlife and burning vegetation. All of it awful.
Yesterday we got another email, camp is back on, having been shifted a week. The fire is still burning, but those in the know, have deemed it safe to reopen the camp. While I clearly wish the fire was not burning, I am mostly filled with and fixated on the typical worries that one has when they send their child off on a week long camping trip for the first time.
Today Carter will repack his backpack (he has been living out of it, clothing-wise for the past week) and we will keep our fingers crossed that things with the fire keep going in the right direction.
I suppose I should think about putting another letter in the mail soon in case my first one was lost. I think I have a couple more heart stickers…
“Mom, that is old person candy,” proclaimed Cody as I was happily showing off my latest addition to our dining room – a candy dish.
In an effort to create a clutter-free space, I had reorganized some furniture, in the process reclaiming my mom’s old sewing machine table. I thoughtfully placed a couple items together and stepped back to admire my work.
It was while at the grocery store with the boys later that day that I realized what was missing, a candy dish. (If I am being full on honest, it wasn’t the dish so much that I wanted, but the candy.) Carter was hemming and hawing in the candy aisle of Safeway eager to spend his money when I saw them, Werther’s Original hard candy. It had been a long time since I had one and I needed an excuse to buy them. A candy dish was a rather lovely excuse.
So, back to the old person comment. Apparently Cody was disgusted with my candy choice, much preferring the dark chocolate Doves his Farmor (Swedish for father’s mother) keeps at her house in a kid accessible candy dish. He even went so far as to say that I was old but his Farmor was not, simply based upon our candy choice.
It may be old person candy in his eyes, but at least I am not acting the part of the little old lady offering up pocket-warmed, foil wrapped, hard candy to any and all children who enter our house.
And, I will not be caught dead uttering such craze as this:
Really, Julia B.? Really?
Finding just the right background to fade into – Cat-ouflage.
Chloe cleverly utilizes the colors and textures of our voluminous bathmat, carefully aligning herself with the multitone stripes.
Leia chooses the quiet, out of the way spaces of empty dining room chairs. She was so cat-ouflaged I almost couldn’t find her for this photoshoot. The eyes give her away.
James, neither stripe aligned nor tucked under furniture, instead decides upon behavioral cat-ouflage as he flattens himself out and plays dead. His fabric choice, while a bit faded, does hint at an attempt of blending with the tired dog bed.
If this were a competition, who would win? Do your cats cat-ouflage and if so, how well?
To support Carter’s Boy Scout Troop, we purchased a coupon card from him, as did several of our neighbors (thanks, neighbors!). It was one of those cards full of discounts, most of which you will never use and you fully know this going into the purchase. One of the “deals” was a buy $20, get $20 to spend at the restaurant/arcade Dave & Busters. For others, perhaps this is a deal, but since we never go to such places (ok, we have been once – it was loud, overpriced, and I vowed never to go again) I stand by my quotation marks.
On Tuesday we went. It was loud, although not due to the number of people (we strategically went on a Tuesday mid-afternoon), but due to the crash of color and sound each video screamed out at the passersby. I snapped a couple pictures of the games that caught my eye and completely give away my age.
Husband and I did one loop of the game area and then stood there, uncertain what to do next. The boys did not need us. They each had their own game card and were completely sucked in to the arcade abyss.
That was when I noticed the sign.
No one was there. It was glorious! Being frugal and still feeling the shock of the “deal” we used and then some to load up the boys’ game cards, we did not want to actually pay to play pool, but as luck would have it, there was a shuffle board along the far wall. All six pucks were quietly sitting there. Waiting for us.
And so we played. First we played using rules we apparently made up somewhere along our lifetimes ago and had convince ourselves were legit. Then we took the time to read the gameplay rules that were politely posted on the wall and played the correct way.
We ordered beer from the bar and the boys played on. Around the walls by the shuffle board there were large black and white framed photos of serious looking people playing pool. Eyes narrowed, cigars clamped in tight lips, laser focused attention to the long played out games of pool. I thought they should have such serious pictures posted but of people playing shuffle board. Hands poised for long seconds over the sanded board as the puck slides to its final destination on the board, lips slightly pursed, eyebrows furrowed.
One of the faces in the serious pool pictures looked familiar, but I could not place him. Husband told me it was a young Burt Reynolds, shocked I did not recognize him.
Somehow our conversation turned to Reynolds’ Playgirl days and Husband, ever one for facts and research had this picture pulled up on his phone when a woman and her two young children walked into the Billiard room.
The woman nor her children noticed, but I found the whole thing to be hilarious.
Cody texted, wondering where we were but not really needing anything. Husband and I played another game, this time using our nondominant hand just because. We reluctantly observed that our quality of play did not seem to change much.
Eventually the boys’ money ran out and they tracked us down. We spent some time in the WIN store so they could spend their tickets and we were on our way.
All in all, it was a good time. If it had not been for the free, unlimited shuffle board, I probably would have a different opinion, however.
Dave & Busters – still loud and overpriced, but that sounds like something a disgruntled old person would say, so I won’t.
Even in the summer, especially in the summer, Husband and I get up early and walk the dogs. We were more than half way through our two mile walk this morning and I was dragging. The sun was clawing its’ way up the eastern edge of the mountains; the air was still and heavy with heat.
Husband turned and smiled at me. “It’s going to be cooler than yesterday, only 115 today!” He meant it to encouraging I’m sure, but it was not.
Papa Quail was most displeased to find his little one out of the nest and away from the protection of the bush at the base of our mesquite trees.
Photo credit to Husband
This is the look I get when I brush my teeth but James wants me to hold him instead.
Shoes On The Wrong Feet 