a beautiful life, slugs and all
This morning my sister called, and I immediately sang, “Happy Birthday!” She responded with, “Well, I was wondering when you were going to call and tell me!” Y’all. She is so funny, the one I call when my tummy hurts, always loves a good IBS report – the best sister in the world. Happy Birthday, Erin!
Here’s a great picture of a picture of us in our sunglasses and bathing suits standing next to a canoe strapped to a truck, but I wish it were a picture of us that time it snowed and Kevin attached the canoe to his four wheeler and pulled us around. That was awesome.
It’s cold today. I can’t believe it’s cold. The fundraising pumpkins dot the church yard, the same as last year and the year before. The leaves have started putting on their makeup and waving their arms in such a harvest dance that I couldn’t help but pull out the ugly fleece penguin pants and stick my nose out the door a minute just to smell the change. Football season smells so good, a mixture of apple spices and turned-over dirt.
The snotty babies, the great monster slugs, have taken over, and something stinks, and I can’t find it. Yesterday, we had a fun book to read, and I petered out with a sore throat, but we’ve had so much good lap-holding that I’ve smiled through a lot of this.
My fine husband decided we needed chicken noodle soup, so rather than pouring in some store-bought broth, he made some home-made stock – the yummiest house perfume. He’s not good at halfway, and I like that.
If you’ve called me or written me an email or commented on my blog, and I haven’t responded, please forgive me. Something has to go, and I wish it were the bad smell, but it’s not. In the meantime, which really isn’t all that mean, here is a picture of a seriosuly handsome child. Type-A Mom conference pics are coming soon.