Chasing thawed flies

How many freeze-thaw cycles do you suppose...


a fly can go through, and yet,


still prove to be a formidable target,


to a determined fly-hunting three year old?

Icy sunrise

This morning, as I was driving with my kiddos, I suddenly wished I had my gun, loaded and ready to go.

Truly, it is not often that I am overwhelmed with gun-toting desire.

No, the kids were behaving. And anyway, I only shoot them with the camera.

I was at a stop sign in the middle of nowhere. As required, I looked to my right and to my left. Sometimes, even in the middle of nowhere, there is traffic. But then I looked to my right again, because something other than a vehicle was coming down the road, and it took a moment to register in my brain.

A skunk! Literally running down the road towards us.

There is so much snow in the ditches around here, when wildlife travels, it now often uses the same roads we do. I've seen the deer do it. And the pheasants too, although they will take to the wing when absolutely necessary.

But a skunk? Barreling down a county highway in broad daylight?

I wanted to shoot it.

I've done it before.

But alas, I had no gun. So we sat there and watched that skunk come bouncing down the road. Not only could we see it, we could also smell it.

I think I've mentioned before how easily entertained we are?

Now it's your turn to be entertained, however briefly. Here's some more ice. An icy sunrise, to be precise.




You can thank me by shooting any skunks which may happen to cross your path. But be warned, make certain you know the exact location of that skunk before you jump off your front step with a loaded weapon.

And once again, don't ask me how I know.

But do tell me which photo you like the best of those two.

You Capture - Kisses

Go on and try, my little princess. It's obvious that you want to.


I hate to rain on your froggy parade, but I've just never seen one turn into a handsome prince.


But I won't stop you. Sometimes life's lessons must be learned the hard way.


How is that working out for you, sweetie?


Yeah, I know. Rip his legs off, then.

Ice

We have lots of ice.

Winter is starting to feel like prison. Except that I really have no idea what prison is like.

I feel trapped.


But there is still beauty.

And I am hopeful.

Snowy Valentine

Today is Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, it happens every year. Fortunately, it did happen twelve years ago when my husband and I got engaged, also a necessary evil.

I'll spare you the many reasons I strongly dislike Valentine's Day.

{cough} Consumerism.

I know, I can be such a pessimist. I take pleasure in being darn good at it too.

{cough} Expectations.

Ahem. Instead, on this snowy winter day, I want to tell you that once upon a time...

Ha! Sorry, I'm laughing. My husband just attempted to lick the butter out of his empty popcorn bowl. Instead he scrubbed it with his beard.

Once upon a time when I was taking a college Literature class, I wrote a paper on a poem by James Wright. Never heard of him? You should. He has some great stuff.

So this paper, the only mark my professor made on it was, "WOW!". Now that could be a good wow, or a bad wow. I will leave that to your imagination.

I will also leave you with James Wright's poem, which I think, is rather appropriate today, on Valentine's Day. Think of it as my little Valentine to you.


Small Frogs Killed on the Highway, by James Wright

Still,
I would leap too
Into the light,
If I had the chance.
It is everything, the wet green stalk of the field
On the other side of the road.
They crouch there, too, faltering in terror
And take strange wing. Many
Of the dead never moved, but many
Of the dead are alive, forever in the split second
Auto headlights more sudden
Than their drivers know.
The drivers burrow backward into dank pools
Where nothing begets
Nothing.

Across the road, tadpoles are dancing
On the quarter thumbnail
Of the moon. They can't see,
Not yet.

Of men and toilets

Men. Seriously.

If a woman had been in charge of this project, this would never have happened.


It would never have happened, because the woman would have had the foresight to cover the toilet with an old blanket, or something. Because otherwise, the woman is the one who has to clean the mess up.

And.

When the men cut the first section of cast iron pipe loose, it fell.

The last time they did a project like this, the cut edge of the pipe hit my husband in the lip, causing his mother and me to insist he go into the clinic. As you know, a gash in your face embedded with sewer yuck is always an awesome thing. Being a man, and invincible, of course he thought we were nuts. And so we are, but that's beside the point.

Had it not been for the tetanus shot they gave him, we women would have been in big trouble. Right.

The women were right, did you catch that?

Back to my story...

Down tumbled the sewer pipe. Again. Yes, this is the third home in which we have done this same project. It's getting just a bit tiresome.

I heard my father-in-law, as he peeked through a hole in the floor where the original toilet was recently anchored, ask my husband if he was OK.

Don't you just love when that happens?

"Yeah, but the toilet broke."

Oh crap.

That would be the new one. The one we installed just so we would have a toilet while this project was underway. The one I wrote about here.

Overnight we got a few new inches of snow on the ground, more coming down now, and the wind is going to pick up which means we will be stormed in, way out here on the frozen prairie.


And my husband just said the new toilet is broken.

NO WAY!


I am so grateful it was only the lid, maybe we can glue it, or something.

"I need to go poop!" my bigger boy said.

"Get your boots on and go downstairs."

"I need to go potty!" my littler boy said, grabbing himself.

"Get your boots on and go downstairs with your brother."

Then a chorus of, "But I want to use the real potty chair... what if it's too cold... I need socks..."

I sent them downstairs to their dad, since he is in charge. I have no idea if they even used the toilet, but it became clear within a few minutes that they were not coming back up. They were helping, and being schooled in the proper man ways of doing a project of this magnitude.

I have to pee too, but I'm going to hold it. Remember, that is not a bathroom down there, just a toilet in the middle of a work zone including two grown men and two miniature men-in-training.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can hold it.

I took advantage of the boys being out of the way, and got the little bean down for her nap. Perfect, now I can write, right?

She's having a party in her bed. She sounds like she's having a grand old time, so I think I'll just leave her there.

And guess what? My husband, bless his heart (as some important women in his life would have said), actually did clean the toilet. Some. At least he tried.

Honestly, I'm so grateful that he can fix things around here. He can fix anything.

It's why I married him, you know.

You Capture - Work

I am so proud of my biggest boy.

He worked so hard.

His heart was full of excitement and anticipation and joy.

He cut.


And cut and cut and cut.


He wrote his name thirty-two times (he decided three had to be redone).


This the child who learned how to write his name just a few short months ago.

Confidence at work!


"Who is this one for Mommy? Oh, she is really going to like it!"


He tasted the satisfaction of working hard to complete a job well.


Nice, huh?

Now go visit Beth to see all kinds of work.