Close Enough to Real TIme

I was going to quickly type this yesterday right after it happened, but real life keeps breaking in on blogdom. 

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This has several parts I'll sloppily glue into one.

So, yesterday I was trying to mow the side of the yard by the lower garden while the older girls finished some h'learning on their own.  Our push mower is not self-propelled, and the grass was almost as tall as I am, so the mower kept stalling, and it was taking longer than I thought it should (but doesn't everything?).  Time was limited because I had a meeting to attend that evening, and since the issue under discussion is close to my heart, I also wanted to take a shower so I didn't look like a Crazy Green Lawn Lady when I spoke.

Part 1:
Getting a coat of burdocks when one is mowing around the perimeter of the lower garden does not bode well for summertime weeding. Nor does this:
Ezekiel: gives a brief squeal of delight
Me:  "Noooooooo!"

He had dashed into the plowed garden because clumps of dandelion heads were just perfectly ripe for blowing wishes (i.e. MORE DANDELIONS) all over the garden.

Part 2: 
Me (Sweaty.  Beet-faced.  I'm sure you can imagine.), noticing Piper's legs dangling from the corner maple where she'd been sitting just outside the bounds of my conscious observation for half an hour.: "PIPER!  What are you working on right now?!" 
Piper:  "Um.  My cursive."

Curled up.  In a tree.  Now that's gonna be a neat handwriting sheet.

Part 3:
I rush into the house to scrub off the green and get dressed to leave.  Cadence meets me at the door, looking soft and rosy, fresh from her nap.
Me: "Hey, sweetie.  How was your nap?  Did you sleep well?"
Her, with a demure look up through those lashes: "Maybe me just pooked.  Maaaaayyybe."

Yup.  Pook.