Charlyn’s Web

Thin straps on a dress.

Known to the rest of us as “spaghetti” straps. But, you know, all those Italian foods sound the same.

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We went to clothes shopping the other day. Mainly because I wanted to figure out what sizes Pixie and The Boy were in. We went to one of our two options in town- whoopie! Aren’t we the shopping metropolis? Makes you want to run right over here and shop with us, doesn’t it?

The Boy has worn holes in all his jeans knees so some jeans were in order for him. I made him try some on- and he actually cooperated and did it! I was so pleased, and relieved. He found a pair that worked. At home, his Papa asked how many pairs we bought. I said “one”. He looked at me a bit funny until I explained that it was almost summer (I use the term “almost” because I am wondering if warm weather will ever come to stay) when he wears shorts all the time and if I bought more than one then he will have out grown them before the fall and probably hardly worn them. So we will revisit jeans this fall.

Pixie doesn’t have much to wear. We don’t have any “hand me downs” for her. I had bought a few items off the sales rack over the winter but not enough. And not any dresses or skirts. Staples in that girl’s wardrobe. I had looked on-line to see what I could find but was having a very hard time deciding what size. She is tall for her age and thin. Very thin. I grabbed a dress that had “pizza straps” and went to the dressing room with her to see what it looked like. I was horrified when she got it on. The arm holes reached down to her waist, the little triangles covered strategic parts of her chest but left a LOT exposed. This just would not do! As she looked in the mirror she declared that she liked it! Of course, she would- it was pink. I was thinking there is no way! when I noticed that the “pizza straps” were adjustable. Whew! It’s also nice because maybe she can wear it for a longer period of time too.

We looked at skirts. Sigh. The ones that fit her around the waist are size 4/5 and are way too short. The 6’s are too big around the waist and practically fall off of her. Either way, she’s flashing people. Although, there are scooters out there that have a short built in under the skirt. But still, having all that leg sticking out from the bottom…. I asked a friend if she would be willing to sew lace or something on the bottom of the 4/5s and she said yes. She said she could also take in an inch on the sides of the 6’s pretty easy too. I wonder how hard that would be with the shorts in there too? I had thought that maybe TG would wear them after Pixie but if they are taken in, I don’t know if she will be able to do that. But, at the moment, TG is rebelling against wearing dresses- there is a ton of dresses hanging in her closet and she refuses to wear them. But she is very happy to wear the tan pants.

What is it with this weather?   This winter we had more snow fall then we’ve had in years- not neccessarily colder temperatures though.  The snow was a good thing- we needed the moisture.  But after that it’s just been pretty cool.  The wind often blows at our place and it’s been a cold, cold wind lately.

March 30th- snow fall of about 3/4 of an inch.

Then mainly highs in the 50’s but still dipping down below freezing at night (not an unusual occurrence ).  It built up to the 60s and  then it  soared to a high of  82.8 on April 13th.  Plants started to really perk up and then we start hitting lows of 24.4 degrees and highs back in the low 50’s.

Then today, the temps are in the low 50s and I glance out the window and think that the cotton from the cottonwoods is starting to fly already when I realize that it wasn’t cotton but a white, snow like substance falling from the sky.  It’s not fluffy, star shaped like snow but it’s not hard enough for hail.  I am sure there is a scientific term for it but I am not sufficiently edukatd to know it.

The plants and my body are very confused.

The kids and I took a quick trip to visit The Grandparents this week. They live in the Rain Forest. Not really, but it sure seems that way. At the house, Dad has recorded monthly rain falls equal to what we get here in a YEAR! And it doesn’t just come down and then be over with- it drips, dribbles and mists all the time. This makes driving very busy and something like this:

Look at rain drops on the windshield.

Decide there isn’t enough speed to blow the drops off and turn wipers on intermittent.

Intermittent is too fast. Turn off wipers.

Look at rain drops.

Turn wipers on intermittent.

Turn wipers on first regular setting.

Turn wipers off.

Put on sunglasses.

Turn wipers on intermittent.

Take off sunglasses.

Turn off wipers.

Look at rain drops.

Sigh loudly. Do it all again.

The kids seem to have missed the really bad part of this cold.  They had runny noses for a bit before I got sick but not a cough like what The Col. and I have experienced.  I don’t know if we had the same virus or not- it always amazes me how a cold will effect each of us differently.  TG had been doing fine until Thursday night when she started coughing.  It is not a croupy cough but a chesty cough- sounds like it’s in the chest.  It seems different than our cough because there were no other symptoms before the cough started.   She woke herself up  with coughing fits during the night but in the morning seemed fine again.  Friends came over and she only coughed a few times.  She seemed as full of energy as ever.  Although, by the end of the day, with no nap, she was a mess and was herded off to bed early.  More coughing in the night and a bit of a runny nose on Saturday.  As I listened to her cough during the night, I determined that she should stay home from Church the next day.

I thought I should be the one to stay with her as The Col. plays guitar during church and I just pew sit.  I started to make plans of what I could do at home with only one child.  Until I felt a bit guilty that I wasn’t planning on spending the time with my Baby and determined that we would spend some time cuddling up on the couch.

But the best laid plans of me and mice (yick) are often put asunder.  The Col. decided that he needed to stay home and get extra rest.  Sigh.  He was still dragging from the cold he caught two weeks ago- still blowing and coughing.  It’s the cold that just will not leave.

I rounded up the other two kids and informed TG that she was going to stay home to take care of Papa.

She did a real good job of taking care of him too.  She let him watch Barney instead of James Bond.  He was thrilled beyond measure.

After every explosion of activity there is the Day After.

They are not usually very pretty.

This one was no exception.

Everyone was tired.

People were cranky.

And it was all hanging out there.

No one wanted to do school. Oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

The Girls were acting like….oh, horror… girls! Oh, the whining, shrieking, tattling- it was all so, so, so girl like.

I, of course, the parent, the teacher, the adult, was the picture of calm, tranquility, peace. I was enthusiastic, energetic, full of vim and vigor. I was wise, patient and kind.

I am lying through my teeth.

The Girls took naps, including me. The Boy is much too old for that though, but he knew enough to leave me alone so that I could get one.

For some reason, the Day After stretched into the Week After and we are still out of kilter. Right now, I am just hoping for a better next week.

Where has the last week gone? Here I was doing fairly well about posting things and then a whole week plus passes. I will just say that for a person who is easily overwhelmed by life in general, last week was a tidal wave, tornado and hurricane all at once.

Our little church decided to put on an Easter production titled The Living Last Supper- you know, like Di Vinci’s painting. (OK- for you technically accurate people out there- it’s not a painting but a mural or fresco or some artsy term or other. Accurate enough for you? Oooh, she sounds cranky!) The production would take 12 disciples, 1 Jesus, 1 narrator. 14 men would be quite a stretch for us but, well, we’d beg help from friends and family. Then there was talk of a choir. Choir? The women that could sing were roped in (that would not include me, I might add). Then talk of townspeople… Roman soldiers… angels!!! Alright, only ONE angel but still, we are talking more and more people here. We were beginning to wonder who would actually be left to watch the thing- the whole church was in the cast and most of the Pastor’s family and friends too!

The Col. carried a heavy load as he was the narrator and he sang a solo- Watch the Lamb by Ray Boltz. It’s an old song but tells a wonderful story. Plus he was one of the three men in the choir. Then disaster struck.

His wife got a cold. And shared. Ain’t she sweat?

So we sent up prayers.

And continued on with our busy week. Tuesday was a choir practice, Wednesday was a potluck and a meeting at Church, Thursday was a play practice and Friday was the dress rehearsal. The Col. stayed home from work and slept on Wednesday and was home until noon on Thursday. Plus our regular activities. Plus fighting a cold on my part also.

After two run throughs at the dress rehearsal, The Col. could hardly speak. But we took it easy on Saturday and things looked good for Sunday except I didn’t have any eggs for the kids to hunt on Sunday at our friends house. I was feeling drained of all energy so I shamelessly called a friend, the much respected Mrs. L, and begged her to pick up some plastic eggs at the store for me. Luckily, she was at the store at the time and so she saved my goose, see why she is the “much respected Mrs. L” and not just by the kids.

Even with 44 people in the cast (including the choir) we had 81 people show up Sunday morning! Praise God! And it all went very well. The Col.’s voice held out and he sounded good. We did the play twice and it went well both times. The Lord took our feeble efforts and made them into something Glorious.

I could hear the riotous laughing and giggling as I came down the hall.

Don’t those girls know they are supposed to be getting ready for bed?!?!? What are they doing?

I stalked in to the bathroom, put my hands on my hips…. and then I heard what they were saying.

“P**p!”

Laughter.

“Panties!”

Shrieks of laughter.

Girls! You know we don’t talk like that!

“But Mrs. L said that it’s potty talk and that if we are talking like this we need to go to the bathroom and we’re in the bathroom.”

How can I argue with that?

For the record, I, myself, me, their Mother, have said this also but when The Mother talks it’s all “blah, blah, blah” but
when some one else says these things, well, that carries a whole lot more weight. They might actually hear it when someone else says it.

And what is it that makes those words so funny?

When Col. Panic was a younger man he worked for a family that ran a custom harvesting business. They owned combines and trucks and would travel to different areas that had crops that needed harvesting. They harvest wheat, corn, milo, and barley. I’m sure I missed something but they will let me know. The Col. would often play with the, eventually, four children of the family. He was a great kid himself and would engage in games of hide and seek, basketball and various other things. I know that at least once, he scared the heebie geebies out of at least one of the girls in a game of nighttime hide and seek. They remember these things- well.

Fast forward many, many years and the youngest is all grown up and in college. For some unknown reason (itchy feet?) she decided to go on a college exchange program to a college close to us. Imagine that. So we have been enjoying her company the last couple of months.

But what goes around, comes around and she now enjoys coming and getting our kids all riled up. I am sure The Col. NEVER (you hear that? NEVER) did that with their kids.

The piggy back ride- or as my kids call it “Monkey Back”- as they enjoy a game of hide and seek.

Why, yes, TG is wearing the same outfit as the last post. You have issues with that? I can assure you that I have peeled it off of her body and it is now in the wash.

Going after The Boy.

Her best hiding spot.

The Boy didn’t find her until she sent TG to tell him where she was hiding. TG was also hiding with her and I don’t know how she kept TG quiet all that time.

The Boy’s best hiding spot, his tunnel.

She didn’t realize that it went down under and so missed him when she checked there.

It’s been great fun getting to know as an adult the child we used to know. We look forward to more fun times.

And, yes, she is going to kill me. But her sisters will thank me.

Last week the weather was lovely, for a few days at least. So we walked/rode down to the mailbox and beyond.

Remember last fall and Pixie’s bicycling difficulties? Well, she still uses her feet to stop instead of the bike brakes but that is, perhaps, a good thing as she jams the brakes on so hard that she skids all over the place. She can now get going on her own and can even turn around. All without the continuous whine that used to proceed from her mouth. Here she is actually standing up and pedaling.

The Boy just took off, as usual, zipping around. Here he takes a side trip down into the ditch- and back out again.

Sorry, they look like ants! I was being left in the dust!

Then there is my baby- the one who marches to her own drum.

What interesting characters they all are. Wonder where they get it.

Note: I made these pictures “smaller” in hopes they wouldn’t take too long to load for any dial up readers out there. (Hi KN!) Let me know if they take too long to load still and if they look OK. Thanks!

This has been the snowiest winter in memory (mine anyway, which isn’t saying much). I had inherited (such a nice, genteel way of saying “hand me downs”) some nice snow pants through the years that we have hardly used. The Boy grew out of them in no time with hardly any opportunities to wear them. For some reason when I was going through things to re-gift (how many euphemisms can I come up with?) I kept wanting to put them in the “share” pile and not the “futures” pile because I kept thinking that The Boy had outgrown them. Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we have more than one child. I swear, I am not blond! There was no reason the girls could not wear them also. So this winter when the snow was falling ever so frequently, I went in search of said snow pants that would fit The Girls ever so well. Not in with the winter stuff. Not in the Futures box. Hmmm. Search again. The Boy’s were easy to find but not the others. I didn’t really do the unthinkable and got rid of them, did I?

As you could see in my Trees post, there are robins around. When I go outside I hear the birds singing loudly and ever so often, when it’s actually quiet in the house, I can hear them in here too. All the snow piles have melted and it’s been in the 50’s. The sun has shined. My little heart goes pitter-patter at these signs. It sings that possibly, just maybe, spring might be approaching. But I also know, the true sign that spring has arrived will be when I find those snow pants!