Happy Sunday y’all!
Welp. I sit here typing and not much witty or entertaining enters my brain (I doubt this is very shocking to my readers). I am bushed. This week was busy, and not in the usual “I work full-time + run a household + bake things and still find time to type blathering nonsense into the blogosphere a few times a week” kind of busy, no: more like every single night except for Tuesday, I was doing something. Like every social event somehow converged on this one magical week. A few nights, I was double-booked even.
I felt like one of those social butterfly type people, except unfortunately I’m not one of those social butterfly type people. I am one of those hole-up-in-my-house-happily-watching-Arrested-Development-on-Netflix type people, so: this was a little bit nerve-wracking to say the least. I survived, though, and did all kinds of normal-person cool stuff like hit up book club, met up with friends I haven’t seen in a looooong time (three times!), had work-type meetings, attended a baby shower, and played second-shooter at a wedding.* And also Saturday we hit up the county fair.
We saw bunnies! And chickens!
And we went to the petting zoo, and fed the zebra and camel and kangaroo (but mainly: the baby goats).
Pete spied pony rides. Pete watched in total awe and kept begging for a ride. We relented, because we figured he would probably chicken out. But oh no, he hopped right on like riding ponies was his JOB, yelled “giddy up!” to get started, happily chirped out a “whoa!” to stop at the end, and then proceeded to lose his ever-loving mind when he realized we were making him leave his beloved pony. POOOOOOOONNNNNEEEEEEE NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! And then he died.
And perked back up once he saw the carnival going on behind the pony ride tent.
After running around the carnival for awhile we fled to the comfort of our temperature-controlled car (it was hot and humid Saturday, like BLAH). And had a decent lunch and all went home to die of heat stroke. The end. And I had some photography stuff to do (including a family shoot as a favor to a friend, more on that tomorrow).
Sunday was loverly because we did not have one teeny even tiny obligation. Nothing. Nada. So we celebrated by deep-cleaning two closets, packed up several boxes for storage, ran errands, organized the basement storage area, and baked banana bread. A new recipe. It’s rather good, actually. Sorry Muzzy, I cheated on your banana-bread recipe. I made Smitten Kitchen’s, plus chocolate chips. And it is kinda yummy, a little.
And that’s about it. Now, for a few words about the Doots man, because I know that’s the only reason some of you check in around here.
Item to Note #1: Weekend mornings, he is as quiet as a mouse and as polite as Emily Post. He doesn’t want to intrude or (the horror!) wake us up, heavens no. So he tip-toes around his room, gathering books. Back and forth from his book shelf to his bed (or the rocking chair). I mean I know I say “tip-toes”, but we hear him stomping around. No matter. He “quietly” sings songs to his kitties and reads books until we come up to greet him and bring him downstairs. Bless that dear child, please never change (no, really: PLEASE).
As a side note: I have been checking out Richard Scarry books at the library for him since he was teeny. He’s never really cared much for them (much like Babar, there is no love for Babar) but lately he has become smitten with Lowly Worm and Huckle Cat and he even requests BusyTown cartoons when it’s TV time at home. There’s a part of me that adores the fact that he loves the same books that my sisters and I did as kids.
Item to Note #2: Doots has taken bed jumping to a whole new level. He could jump on our bed every waking moment while at home. Sunday we had wind and thunderstorms, which meant lots of inside time, so he spent some serious quality time jumping jumping jumping to his heart’s content.
Item to Note #3: While he bed-jumped, I cleaned the bedroom closets. He spied a winter coat. (The one we bought for him a million weeks ago while in Chicago. The one we had to creatively smoosh in order to fit in our return luggage.). Anyway: he had to wear it. Like, IMMEDIATELY. So he slipped into it and I zipped him up, and he strutted around for awhile like a peacock. Then waved good-bye, told me he was headed out, and took his Mater for a drive around the living room for awhile (until I wrestled him out of the coat, because he was soaked in sweat). It is never a dull moment with a toddler in the house.
* So. I was second-shooter at a wedding. I was nervous and kinda freaked for the first hour but finally got my footing, so to speak, and ended up enjoying myself. And while I think that I got a few good shots from a creative aspect (I hope anyway), it was an intensely humbling experience. Because I am still way too green to tackle this sort of thing, because I have nowhere near the necessary equipment, because I would need a lot more self-confidence to do it. But I crave it, because dude: awesome sauce. I loved it. Even though I wasn’t so hot at it this time around.