Cursive, boys, and a day of minor domestic crises

Jacob’s friend Colin is spending the night tonight, and they are in high spirits. In the interest of giving Christian a bit of peace and quiet, Jordan sent them out to me to practice their cursive. This made Jacob indignant because he’d already done his cursive for the day. But I never knew cursive should be so funny Hilarity ensued. Giggles and high-pitched screams. No wonder Christian needed twenty minutes off.

Even minor domestic crises come in threes, I’ve decided. This morning, I knocked, pushed, shoved, whatever, the control to my bed, the thing that raises and lowers the head and foot, etc., off the bed in the tiny space between the bed and the wall. Before I was out of bed for the morning, I fretted about that, fearing I couldn’t reach down and get it out. Then I’d have to ask Jordan, which struck me as bothering her. But I discovered there really is a small space between bed and wall, and I reached down and got it easily. Lesson learned about those controls I keep on the bed—the thermostat, the bed control, and the cell phone. I will now watch where I put them.

Next I discovered that the commode was running—again. It does that with far too great frequency. Not a major problem because all you have to do is reach in, adjust the flap, and stop it. But it becomes a major problem because the top of the tank is heavy enough that I can’t balance and lift it. Jordan fixed it, and I called our contractor who said it might be a minor adjustment and he’ll come by in a couple of days to see if he can fix it. I’m hoping to avoid the expense of a plumbing call. I adore the man I consider our family plumber, but his company is merciless with charges for every little thing. A trip charge is exorbitant.

I got ready to cook my breakfast and blew the fuse in the switch plate where I plug in the hot plate. Try as I might, I never can restart that thing. Christian came out and fixed it for me. He says I don’t push hard and fast enough to connect it to whatever. “An electrician you’re not,” he said, and I told him about a former employee at TCU Press who used to roll his eyes and explain to people, “She’s not handy.”

So crises solved. And no rain today. The Atmos (gas company) crew chief came by and inspected the problems his crew’s work had caused—a sprinkler head that bubbles constantly, two sinkholes in the backyard that get worse with every rainstorm. And they’re fixed. Kudos to Atmos, because the workers are without exception pleasant, willing to help, and the crew chief is really easy to work with, grateful when we appreciate his men.  What a pleasant change from what might have been.

So here I sit, with giggling boys and a dog who wants to be part of the fun but isn’t sure how. Wonder if my twenty minutes if almost up.

Another new experience

Two boys and a dog

Way back when my children were young, they had sleepovers. I have a couple of friends who usually spend the night if they’re in town, and we jokingly refer to sleepovers. But tonight is a whole new experience—Jacob is hosting his first sleepover at my house—I knew the day would come when he’d want a buddy to spend the night. Jacob spent the afternoon with Max, a friend whose grandparents live down the street.

When the boys were in the first grades of school, Max and his grandfather often stopped on the way home in the afternoon. The boys would play, and Don and I would sit on the porch and solve the problems of the world. We pretty much have similar philosophies, so I came to value those visits, and I miss them today. Don also took the boys on various adventures, and Jacob loved to play at their house because they have a pool and a big dog.

This year Max transferred to a private school, and they never see each other. So today was a highlight—Max’s father took them to The Main Event and fed them pizza (I’m biding my time before offering ice cream). They have promised to be quiet (they are eerily quiet right now) and to go to sleep without a lot of giggling and laughing. We’ll return Max to his grandparents in the morning in time for us to go to church.

Ask me in the morning.

Otherwise it’s been a cold, wet day. I took a nap and dreamt that I had to go pick Jacob up and then go someplace way out on the west side of town and was dreading getting out of my warm bed to do that. No idea where I thought I was going. Had tentative dinner plans tonight but everyone decided it was too yucky to venture out—which was my decision before they even told me that.

We’ve had so much rain that rivers are out of their banks and some lakes are closed to boating. November has been the wettest on record—more due tonight. A good night to hunker down with a book, a fire, and two little boys. More of my blessed life.

Oops. There's a PS to the sleepover story. Jordan called to talk to Jacob, and he told her someone drove in our driveway, parked, slammed the car door, walked down the driveway, looked in the back window, saw the boys and left. Jordan called Jay who never answers his land line; I called his cell, and he came over, said nobody has driven down the driveway in 24 hours. Conclusion: the neighbor came home, and Jacob has a vigorous imagination. Jordan is still nervous, but I have locked up, will set the alarm and am quite sure we're safe. Christian says little boys imagine all kinds of things, and I think he's right. Added a bit of spice to the night though.

A Kick in the Pants

Bathroom as it looks today
Not tided up for a picture
Note the wonderful beveled mirror--it stays

Sometimes we need a kick in the pants to jolt us out of our self-absorption. Just got the call I’ve been waiting for—they will start tearing out my bathroom next week. Means I’ll spend the weekend hauling stuff out, sorting and purging, putting what I need in the small half/bath. I’ll have to learn to go to that bath in the middle of the night, adjust my whole pattern. Then, when they tear the kitchen apart, I won’t be able to cook, etc. The contractors, Bundock Construction, have kept this house running for over twenty years, and the assure me we're not doing this for resale value--we're doing it to give me a safe bathroom. Tub goes away, and I'll have a walk-in shower.

We are keeping the built-ins
so typical of a house the age of mine

Suddenly I feel all this will energize me, push me out of my lingering depression over my foot and leg. I spend too much time wondering if I hurt because I don’t walk or I don’t walk because I hurt. I know many have much more severe pain and worse problems than I can even imagine, and I’m looking forward to a doctor’s appointment Monday, hoping for diagnostic as well as therapeutic effects. But meantime, this has given me a great sense of optimism.

Big problem: keeping the dog safely corralled with all the workmen coming in and out of the house—and keeping the house reasonably clean as they cart out tile and spread dust everywhere. It’s going to be an experience and a challenge, just what I need.

Also keeping the wonderful old
medicine chest and
the relatively new sink

I’ve heard that rats don’t like commotion. In fact, I read a post that said to just bang on the ceiling if you hear rats in your attic. I think I have them—again!—because Sophie stands in the hallway and barks at the ceiling. So I’m counting on the construction commotion top chase them away. A side benefit you might say.

I probably won’t get much writing done, but who knows? With all the commotion, I may just retreat to my office, and with the renewed energy, write an entire novel while they redo my bathroom. But how will I get my afternoon nap?

For distraction this afternoon, I had four screaming nine-year-old boys—chaos! They didn’t want snacks, just wanted water, and I left them in the family room (or whatever we’re calling it these days) with frequent trips to check. At one point, Jacob told me, “Juju, we’re having a boy talk.” I asked if that meant I should leave and he said yes. Of course, when Jordan got here, they were starving—ended up eating cheese toast and hot dogs.

Ended the day with a nice supper with Betty at Fixture—we split nachos with brie and cranberry salsa and truffle mac and cheese—an odd combination but good. Because there seemed to be a breeze, we ate outside (much easier on my ears) which was pleasant. Then the rain came, at first gentle and then fairly steady, and everything turned steamy and hot.

They promise a cold front tonight—I thought it was last night.

Some days are longer than others

Long day, and I'm tired. But good things have happened. The Perfect Coed got a highly positive review on Long and Short Review (http://www.longandshortreviews.com/book-reviews/perfect-coed-by-judy-alter/). Who can complain when a reviewer praises your quick snappy writing style and fast-paced storyline? Not me! Nice start to the day.
I had other good news on the writing front that I don't feel at liberty to share yet, but I will soon. Not only is it a nice accolade, it's an event that evoked surprising enthusiasm from my kids. They are always and ever my best fans and I so appreciate their loyalty, but they're going to go to Lubbock for me! Now that is above and beyond.
And I finally got my cousin's estate settled today. It's been difficult because she was in Toronto and I'm in Texas and she died without a will. She had breast cancer and was so afraid she was going to die that I never would have asked about a will--it would have freaked her out. I figured it was no problem because I knew I was the only surviving relative. It turns out there are third cousins on her father's side, but I am the closest relative and therefore executor of her estate, as the Canadian courts decided today. I've probably spent as much in lawyer's fees as I stand to gain, but it's settled and I hope Jenny can rest in peace after a life that had precious little happiness in it.
Other than that a pleasant if scattered day--breakfast with the Book Ladies, a group of I suspect at least twenty-five years endurance. Some of us originals are still there, and we do talk about books but we also talk about lots of other things (liberal politics high on the list) and there is a real bond among us.
Lunch with a dear friend of longstanding--we went to my new favorite Mexican place, and I ate both my spinach enchiladas, something I rarely do. After a lazy afternoon I picked up two energized eight-year-old boys about 5:30 and tried to corral them into doing homework. They would rather hit each other in the head--"that's what boys do" Jacob's friend explained. We got the bare minimum of homework done and then went to the Grill for dinner. Now there's a sleeping eight-year-old in my house and a sleeping dog in my office. Life is good, and tomorrow will bring another adventure.
I read an interesting piece tonight that said essentially that God does not play with our lives, he does not put roadblocks in our way to see how we'll react. He stands beside or behind us, giving us grace to deal with the roadblocks that life puts in our way. I like that thought. Peace, y'all.

Butterflies...and an adventure

Yesterday I took Jacob and an eight-year-old friend to the Butterfly Garden at the Fort Worth Botanical Garden. Max's family has been so good about taking Jacob on adventuresome play dates, and this was one thing I thought I could do alone, though I was a bit uncertain about it.
Yes, back in the day I took four children everywhere by myself, never thought a thing about it. But then I was in my thirties; I'm a bit older now. I remember once when I had a fifth child with us. We went into a store and as we left, I realized I'd left a child behind. Turning to find that child, I bumped into a woman and said, "So sorry, ma'am, but I've lost a child." She put a comforting arm on mine and said, "Don't worry, honey. You got enough as it is." Another time I piled the children into the car at the grocery store and started off down a side street, only to realize that Jamie, my third, was running frantically down the street, waving his arms and calling. Jamie is the one who always says he's suing for the indignities and dangers he was subjected to as a child.
When  you have someone else's child or grandchild, you're even more careful as I was yesterday. I wouldn't let those boys out of my sight for two seconds, and when I wanted to use a restroom, I asked a docent to watch them.
The Botanic Garden has a tropical arboretum, and every year (I think) they release lots of butterflies into the space. I remember going about eight years ago when there was so many, flying at you from every direction, that it freaked my oldest granddaughter out and she had to leave. That time, they also had glassed-in boxes through which the children could watch butterflies emerge from the chrysalis, and the kids were fascinated.
On the way to the garden, the boys wanted the top down on the car, and from then on they were boisterous, loud and noisy, waving and calling to pedestrians. At the arboretum, they listened politely to the rules--no touching, watch where you walk, etc.--and I added no loud voices because they would scare the butterflies. They were actually well-behaved and listened attentively to a docent who helped them identify the ones they saw. But after five minutes, Max asked, "Can we leave now? I'm hot." It was hot and humid in there, no way around it. I tried to get him to take off his top shirt, which he finally did. But the butterflies were not nearly as numerous as I remember, and there was no chrysalis display.
Afterward, they wanted to run in the meadow behind the Botanic Garden building, and Jacob had a fine time running and throwing himself down in the grass. After a very few minutes, Max was too hot and came to sit with me in the shade.
We left for home and nothing would be but Jacob wanted to look for frogs in the ponds that had frog statues at either end. Max told him there were no frogs and waited in the car with me, while Jacob walked the perimeter of both ponds.
Finally I got them home, fed them ice cream (which they let Sophie eat too much of), and breathed a sigh of relief.  But they continued to raise holy Ned in the backyard--they broke a tree which they were "just leaning on" and found a nonexistent gate that they urged a neighbor to go through until I stopped that--I didn't want the gap between the fences widened enough for Sophie to get through.
A long but satisfying afternoon. I worry abut the scarcity of butterflies. They, like bees, are endangered these days--maybe that's what prompted by rant last night about our artificial world. But I will add that we saw some beauties yesterday--particularly the turquoise Blue Morpho, yellow-edged giant owl, and the tiger longwing. It's worth going to see the exhibit.