All year we’ve been up in the air and unsettled. For every one thing going to plan, there are a million billion trillion (so many zeroes) things going NOT to plan. I haven’t wanted to think. I haven’t wanted to have ideas. I haven’t wanted to record or ponder or even hope.
Being weary gets old, though. As June has moved itself along, we’ve gotten past some of the incredibly changeable situations in our family life, and we’re settling into a routine.
Sadly, that routine has been stupid. There’s been a lot of arguing and avoiding and there has been A LOT of rain. Yesterday I could tell we needed to move our show out the door. We felt better after some outdoor time, but it wasn’t enough. We needed more.
This morning we got it. I am still so frazzled that I am not sure how much outdoor time we got. But. It was mostly good.
Annie needed to take the dictionary with us. It has maps. And pictures. And is bright red and very heavy. I sent Aiden back to our house to get her backpack so she could stop tripping down the stairs.
When we got tired, we investigated the garden plants. I murdered a squash pest. (I’m about to have to pull up and burn the spaghetti squash, booooooooo. I’m thinking all the happy thoughts about the pumpkin vines, which appear to have cross-pollinated…)
So. Then the kids wandered into the house, and I was going to follow. But. I was distracted.
I got our science tweezers (as in, tweezers reserved for similar bleghy tasks) and picked up our desiccated friend, moving it to our bench. We investigated for a bit, then transferred the carcass to a jar. Now it’s on a shelf by the front door.