Summer doings
Life is always interesting around here. In fact, some of it I just couldn't make up.
For instance, when your daughter announces upon arriving home from work, "Ahhh! There was a duck in our yard and a rabbit jumped out of the apple tree at me!"
I'm not sure what one replies to that, except that everyone will be keeping a very close eye on the front yard to see the rare tree-climbing rabbit. This thrills L. as you can imagine. Rabbits falling from the sky near her is pretty much her fantasy.
This is the same daughter who is life guarding for the summer. It's always exciting when she arrives home, even without falling rabbits, because of the host of stories she has about her day at the pool. Let's just say, I won't ever view public pools with the same eyes ever again.
We will probably be filling up our small pool this afternoon. Not only is the weather cooperating, but it will help to rinse off the flour-covered children. It all happened because I took a shower and left the young ones playing with homemade play dough. This activity has kept them pretty well occupied over the past couple of days, but sometimes the dough does get a little sticky. A little bit of flour easily fixes this and when I went upstairs, they were looking like responsible flour users. It was a different story when I exited the shower. Let's just say it will be a very long time before the homemade play dough feels sticky.
Since summer does invite long hours of extended play, it has given D. a chance to practice slight of hand card tricks all day. No, really, I'm not exaggerating. He is giving himself callouses on his fingers. All the hard work is also paying off and he has a couple of tricks that I really don't know how he does them. Of course this also means that when you do see D., he is more likely than not to shove a deck of cards in your face and ask you to pick one.
I don't really have room to talk, though. I've been working my way through my stack of neurology-type books and realized upon waking that Paul Broca was in my dreams. Unless you are also a neurology-geek, this won't mean anything. Paul Broca is the scientist for whom the area in the brain called Broca's area is named. Yes, I'm dreaming about neurologists.
Pick a lobe, any lobe...
For instance, when your daughter announces upon arriving home from work, "Ahhh! There was a duck in our yard and a rabbit jumped out of the apple tree at me!"
I'm not sure what one replies to that, except that everyone will be keeping a very close eye on the front yard to see the rare tree-climbing rabbit. This thrills L. as you can imagine. Rabbits falling from the sky near her is pretty much her fantasy.
This is the same daughter who is life guarding for the summer. It's always exciting when she arrives home, even without falling rabbits, because of the host of stories she has about her day at the pool. Let's just say, I won't ever view public pools with the same eyes ever again.
We will probably be filling up our small pool this afternoon. Not only is the weather cooperating, but it will help to rinse off the flour-covered children. It all happened because I took a shower and left the young ones playing with homemade play dough. This activity has kept them pretty well occupied over the past couple of days, but sometimes the dough does get a little sticky. A little bit of flour easily fixes this and when I went upstairs, they were looking like responsible flour users. It was a different story when I exited the shower. Let's just say it will be a very long time before the homemade play dough feels sticky.
Since summer does invite long hours of extended play, it has given D. a chance to practice slight of hand card tricks all day. No, really, I'm not exaggerating. He is giving himself callouses on his fingers. All the hard work is also paying off and he has a couple of tricks that I really don't know how he does them. Of course this also means that when you do see D., he is more likely than not to shove a deck of cards in your face and ask you to pick one.
I don't really have room to talk, though. I've been working my way through my stack of neurology-type books and realized upon waking that Paul Broca was in my dreams. Unless you are also a neurology-geek, this won't mean anything. Paul Broca is the scientist for whom the area in the brain called Broca's area is named. Yes, I'm dreaming about neurologists.
Pick a lobe, any lobe...
Comments
...flour, flour, everywhere.