My Bumpkin Still

IOWAs NO MORE! (...Until next year)

As anyone knows who's encountered the folly of standardized tests (which is to say, everyone), they're a real drag.  I was as eager to finish as the children were, so to bolster our spirits at the beginning of the week, I told them that when I'd finished grading them, we'd drop them off at the school and then immediately buy a half gallon of ice cream and a box of cones to eat while walking on the dike.

Guess who's teething finally?  Six top teeth all in one go!

Two tiny specks named Annika and Susannah ran down to the lake to dip their toes.

We all followed after.

Rock skipping was the primary occupation, and Zeke had me approve rocks for him first.

Cadence was so sweet playing peekaboo I asked one of the girls to take a picture.

Then we climbed a hillside of rocks. 

Ugh.  These mountain goats make it look easy, but with a baby strapped behind and a big ol' belly in front, I didn't win any ribbons.

We stopped in at the school playground because, hey!, we pay tons of taxes.  Also, as you can see, the littlest children begged to play.

Then we stopped in at the town pool for the first time.  It's free, and we live ten minutes away.  Why was this our first time?!

Before leaving, we squeezed in a second playground because-- you guessed it-- the littlest children begged to play.

Those few hours of fun nearly made taking IOWAs worth the bother. 

There's a Bird on the Couch

Honey Sweet

Locust blossoms and blue sky.

John and I went on a Lafferty getaway for a couple of days with NO CHILDREN except Little Lighting LaBolt in My Belly while Dude and Dudette held down the fort, bless their bones (two and a half days and eight children; count 'em).  The girls sent me off with a snack of locust blossoms...and that's the only photographic evidence of a wonderful few days with my best pal Johnny Blue.

A Quick Visit to the ER Before Bed

Stony Dirt Hopes

When I'm an old lady, if I reach old ladyhood, I'll putter about with pens and paints and fabric and flowers and books and candy all day long.  Of necessity, because we have to eat, vegetable gardens take precedence these days and consume so much time that I find myself squeezing blooms into the tail end of the season, usually right before a storm.  (The rest happens in fits and spurts, except for the candy, which I always manage to miraculously squeeze in, in the same manner I miraculously squeeze my new leg girth into jeans.)

This year we planted the gardens at the beginning of June, but then cold rains came and stayed, and nearly all the seeds we'd planted rotted in night-springing, uncharted lakes.  When the sun returned a few weeks later, we had to replant everything-- corn, winter and summer squashes, melons, pumpkins, beans, peas, cucumbers-- you name it. And the chickens dug up my herb bed!  I sob for cilantro.

This was after the first planting.  The rocks in both upper and lower gardens have now been decorated with weeds.  Not to fear!   It's hard to believe in late June, but God always surprises us with a bounty from these patches of stony dirt.   I always try to take a picture to remind myself in late August of what things looked like at the beginning.  It's a visual lesson in trust, a reminder to not be gloomy and ungrateful when the surface has such lack of promise.

The frustration of vegetable planting this year, however, was offset by the gift of blooms!  Mrs. Purdy gave us a whole mess of growing things she thinned from her beds, and then my sister Becky picked up six-packs of annuals for us at a dollar apiece to plump up the bare spots.   To top it off, last week, Becky also gave me a slew of flowers and herbs in need of TLC that she found for free outside of a farmstand.  We were also given several rose bushes, a baby oak, a lilac bush, and a peach tree!  I can't wait to see it all blossom and grow.

We dug a new bed for blossoms and tried to fortify it against chicken attack, but they've been sneaking in anyway. I have a love-hate relationship with our chickens.  When I am an old lady, I'll have to spend summer money on chicken feed, but chickens will be fenced and flowers will roam free.  For now, though, it's maximum security fencing...or not.

They Thought She Needed More Rose Petals

Food is Most Important

My cousin Leah and 5 of her children visited with us for 4 days, and mutual friends stopped in, too, and we enjoyed them all.  I have these 4 pictures to show for it. Moral of the story: FOOD IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN PEOPLE.


For buildabelly: the ciabatta recipe good ol' Justin P. passed along is a wonder.  Mille made ten loaves in a little over a week.  She's a wonder, too.

My first time making twice-baked potatoes during their visit was a smashing success and led to a second time for more company a few weeks later. The moral of twice-baked potatoes: TAKE SOMETHING HEALTHY AND PACK IT FULL OF YUMMY, UNHEALTHY STUFF ALL MASHED TOGETHER.

I do not regret it.