Thursday, August 30, 2012

LEAF ME ALONE




I went out to weed this morning.  I saw this on the ground.



My heart sank.

I know how many of you love fall:  the autumn leaves, the sweater weather, the crisp schedule of school days.  To you I say … no.  No thank you.

Summer is my favorite season.  I don’t mind that I have to take three showers a day.   I don’t mind that there is no schedule and everybody eats a different lunch at a different time and leaves banana peels by the TV.   I don’t mind that the kids’ rooms look like this.



I don’t mind that we eat dinner at 8:30 simply because I was too lazy to start cooking it earlier.  In fact, my husband and I wouldn’t eat it at all, except that the kids get hungry.  Silly growing boys!

I miss the heat wave we had earlier this summer.  Crushing heat is a great excuse to do nothing.  It’s too hot to vacuum, or garden, or cook.  It's too hot to think or make decisions.  You either read by the air conditioner or you go to the town pool.   But now that things have cooled off,  I’ll have to get serious.  After all ... this is waiting for me.



I won't think about it now.  It's Labor Day Weekend.  I am only going to think about this.




 Woo Hoo!  Happy (it's not over yet) Summer!

Sunday, August 26, 2012

IN MY FREEZER



 

This guy lives in my ice bin.  He’s pretty happy there.  You have to watch out for him though, because just when you think you’ve grabbed a nice handful of ice for your cold beverage, you realize



He has hijacked his way into your drink.
















This is also in my freezer.  I’m not sure what it is or if I’ll ever eat it.


This is a science experiment. 

Actually, it is an old bottle filled with mulch and other detritus from the playground 11 years ago.  My two boys filled it up one afternoon, and stuck it in the freezer, calling it a science experiment.  Science experiments in this house are just code for “giant mess” and we’ve had plenty of them.  The boys’ plan was to leave the bottle in there all winter, and then, in the summer, time how long it would take to defrost it.  I encouraged this stunningly intellectual pursuit and kept the bottle frozen all winter.  

Eleven years later, we still haven’t thawed it out.  Whenever I suggest thawing it to my older son, who is now 15, he gets sentimental.  “No, Mom.  It’s from our childhood.  We can never defrost it.”

Never?