The Day After

After the guests left on Thanksgiving night, we discovered that, in the chaos, four children missed their rides.*  What a bummer.  Since they were already here, we decided to have a sleepover. (*I feel the need to point out this fib.  A sleepover plan was hatched after we ate turkey. I don't know who's hacking into my blogger account and filling my posts with lies, but I wish she'd stop.)

Day-after-Thanksgiving breakfast for nine girls! (Poor Ezekiel.)

 

Haven and August came up to play, too, and all the children busied themselves outside building homes and periodically running inside, wind-flushed and breathless, for me to punch holes for tin can telephones, in plastic bottles for windchimes, to tie knots in string, and to rummage around for banner-ribbons.  I was busy cleaning up post-Thanksgiving debris, so I didn't make my way outside to see the results until after the boys had gone back down the hill for lunch at Grandma's, but here's a winsome set of twinnies in their house.

 

What's this?  Who left the telephone off the hook?

 

 

Negligence repaired.

 

 


 

 

  This is Haven's door, handily labeled with a self-portrait so as to know whose house one is stepping inside.

 

Later, piano lessons began.

 

 

Board games materialized.  

 

 

Candida has the lovely, tapered fingers of a piano player.  

 

And this girl?  Her fingers are short and chubby, but she looks mighty sweet in her Mama's hat.