Baby, it's cold outside. (I say that every year, have you noticed?)
Even the double pane windows are beginning to frost. We've been mostly hanging out next to the fireplace, though Kendric's made a few expeditions outside for snow. Snow ice cream. I think they're crazy to want to put anything so cold in their bodies right now, but whatever.
Friday: Logan has been counting down to this day from the moment he received his invitation. "This is the first time I've been to a birthday party all by myself." Also the first time he's been to a movie theater without family; Cyndi brought Caysen and all his friends to see Megamind in the theater.
Kirby was home with the kids; after I left Logan at Caysen's, I drove to Hayden for Nicole and baby Adelaide's shower at The Yellow House. I was ... nervous about my gift; people either love crocheted items or they hate 'em. Whew! Nicole loved 'em:
Her mother's oven was filled with a yucky burnt stink and wouldn't be clean in time to bake her turkey for the church potluck, so Joi come to borrow our oven. She stayed for dinner and a movie, and left her North and South DVD for us to watch at our leisure.
Saturday: Kendric had been invited to spend the night at Brett's house; he was packed and ready to go when the Goodmans showed up to trade him for Natalie. At the last minute, Brett asked if Logan could come, too. Bri and Kirby quickly packed his backpack and sent him on his way. His first overnight stay with non-family, and I wasn't around to give him all the obligatory bits of motherly Good Advice. *sniff*
Kirby, Wilson and I went to Home Depot to get shelves for the laundry room. Started to watch North and South, but (it's looooong!) only made it through the first episode before Kirby fell asleep and I declared it was bedtime...
today: Thanksgiving Potluck at church. Kirby stayed home with Wilson, so I had my arms free to help in the kitchen. I remembered all the potlucks at the Community Fellowship when I was busy with babies, and "helping" meant keeping my kids away from the kitchen. "Don't worry," they told me, "We've had our turn watching babies, some day it will be your turn to help in the kitchen." I felt a little cheaty that my help wasn't being returned to the same people...
I found the pitchers, filled them with ice and water, and passed them to Myra, Natalie and Kaiden, who put them out on the tables. Kendric and Moriah took the salt and pepper shakers and distributed them more or less evenly among the tables... I was visiting with an old lady (I think her name is Mary) when the line started filing through the kitchen. Mary excused herself so she could find her husband. I turned to look for my boys, to help them with their plates -- there they were, near the front of the line, and Kendric was serving Logan! A surge of motherly pride in such a helpful boy, then a twinge of sadness because they didn't need me. *sniff* Instead, I helped the small Freys. (Heh. Small Freys.)
The Skate Plaza celebrated Veterans' Day with a Two for One admission deal. Mari and Bri have their own roller blades; they just wanted a ride. Instead, I volunteered to pay for all the big kids to go.
When I left them at the rink, Kendric was flailing about like a windmill: stand, step, slip, smack, rinse and repeat. As I browsed Michaels and Hancock Fabrics, I wondered if he would end up sulking on a bench, bruised and discouraged. What a surprise when I returned and he skated toward me, confidently and effortlessly. Hooray! We stayed to watch the end of the session; the girls would high-five Logan and Wilson's extended hands as they came around. Eventually, other little spectator kids stood on the bench with us, and the girls had an entire line of fans, waiting to touch their hands. Ha.
We saw a flatbed truck hauling compacted scrap vehicles. "Look!" I pointed it out to Logan and Wilson, "It's a pile of squished cars!" I mentioned that those cars would be melted, and the metal used to make other metal things... At the dinner table, Wilson noticed that his fork is made of metal, "I know how this was made. From a squished car!" Heh.
We did Circle Time. (I never call it Circle Time, but thanks to Blue's Clues, the term has entered our home, and it sticks.) "Bluebird, Bluebird Through My Window," "Oats, Peas, Beans, and Barley Grow," "The Hokey Pokey," "Here We are Together," "The gods Must Be Crazy" circle dance, the hand slap relay thing, and "As I Was Walking Down the Street."
Bri and I rode bikes to the library. Approximately 8 miles there and back. Thank you, Kirby, for the little flashy light things you put on our tires before our big bike ride. It gets dark mighty early this time of year.
After an entire summer of "one of these days," we finally got together for lunch with the Dave and Gail. They live 10+ miles south of Coeur d'Alene, in a part of the world I'd only seen before on the map. Well I'll tell you, the map doesn't do it justice. To top it off, the light rain brought out the saturation in all the colors...
Their old farmhouse is a cozy step into my childhood memories. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine I was walking into Phil and Kathy's house. Heat from an old woodstove. Dinner in the oven. And I'm pretty sure that's rosewater...
We chatted easily over macaroni / hot dog casserole... Kirby and Dave dressed in full camo and went out to show off their coyote calling skills... Seth discovered that we like Age of Empires; he challenged each one of us to a game, then won each game in turn... The kids played hide and seek outside in the dark (Kendric and Seth hid longest, in a tree) until it was time to leave.
yesterday: Kirby brought Myra, Kendric and Wilson to Twin Lakes for some fishing. They caught one perch, then decided to move on down to Hauser Lake. On the way, they stopped at Goodmans', offering to trade Myra for Brett. Doug was on his way home from work, so they waited for him. Didn't catch anything at Hauser, but motored around the lake -- and enjoyed a vivid sunset reflected on glassy water.
Myra and Bri spent the night at Goodmans'...
today: Kendric raked the yard. The trees haven't let go of every leaf -- I knew we'd probably have to rake again, but -- poor Kendric! who'd picked up literally every leaf -- there were leaves falling behind him onto the perfectly green carpet of grass. At present, Mari is mowing the lawn one last time; Kirby will winterize the mower this afternoon.
"I can't imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once." --C.S. Lewis
The visits to the Mary Stewart corner of my personal bookshelf are far enough between that, though the gist of each story is familiar, there's just enough wondering about how clearly I've remembered each character that the actual story is not stale. (I recollect that Charity's husband, Johnny, was a pilot, shot down during the War, before she mentions it, but can't remember which of the men at the hotel is a menace, which is a hero. It's worth another read to find out which -- and how they're discovered.) My eyes tend to glaze when she's waxing poetic about the scenery, and I find myself tapping my foot impatiently for action or dialogue, but reading aloud, at a pace slow enough for my mouth to keep up with my eyes, I have time to carefully envision her details. The blue thread of smoke curling skyward from the cigarettes in the ashtray, the bobbing and curtsying boats in the harbor, the flick of the shadows across the road during the inevitable car chase... It's her choice of words, like "curtsying", that endear her to me.
I don't know what it is about reading aloud that's so tiring. Maybe it's the effort in trying to make the conversation realistic, subtly giving each character his own voice to keep the story clear through untagged dialogue, trying to crisply enunciate even the foreign phrases and place names, and trying to maintain a rapid pace while trying not to give away the next twist before we get to it. When we take a break from a book, it's usually because I'm tired. My eyelids go numb, I fight to keep the words in focus, and I force myself to keep the words coming. Maybe I start to slur. Maybe I get slow. At any rate, the girls can always tell when I need to put the book down, "Mom, you're getting tired, aren't you?"
In spite of my little nap, we finished Madam, Will You Talk? this afternoon. The girls mixed colors and painted their canvases at the table; if not for the occasional comment, I'd suspect they weren't even listening. Bri has a knack for putting things together. "I can't seem to buy the idea that he is a murderer. I find myself wanting him to be a Good Guy." What?! Has she read this before? No. She's just That Good. And Mari knew why the painting in the window of the shop was significant before they'd even looked for a signature. Smart girls.
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