Someone forgot to tell me our block is a flag block. Augie, our 80-something neighbor, was putting out a large porch flag at 6 this morning. By the time I finished my coffee, two rows of matching little yard flags had marched down his front walk.
We are woefully unprepared. Do gas line flags count?
The Vaseline is winning! Four days, three baths and every type of soap in the house has done little to repair the slick mess that is Viv’s hair.
Viv has been climbing these steps now, after showing no interest for months. Now it’s “step! step!” And counting as she climbs with her little stick legs and big clunky baby shoes. My favorite number is “eleventeen”.
(left) BEFORE: Dingy walls, no light and nasty nasty carpet.
(Right) AFTER: Clean walls, a skylight and a bit of colorful history.
Finally, a painter who isn’t a flake! Two rooms painted and it feels like real progress; until I see that there are 8 rooms more to go. I wonder if I can keep the painters on a rain day retainer?
It’s potato salad season….tonight’s with fresh chives and Italian parsley from our first Highcross Farm CSA box full of fresh grown goodies. Now, what to do with this giant mystery thing growing on the side of the house? I think it’s a rhubarb out of control.
Viv, to an overly-eager guy at the grocery store (I think he was trolling for single moms) : “Are you pooping?”
It was really hard not to write Grandma Eileen a letter this Sunday. I will miss her forever.
BEFORE–DURING–AFTER
It’s taken two years, but the dinette in the trailer is usable at last! It was the very first thing I ripped out the first summer– the rickety, water-damaged dinette benches and table. After a season with nothing but an empty space (and exposed battery charger and water pump), it will be wonderful for have the seating area usable again. It did make a fine spot for the pack-n-play for Viv last year, but she’s ready for a real bed now.
I have to have a table top made yet, but for now, it’s enough just to have a comfy place to sit. Thank you Dad, thank you Molly!
A hundred or more mourners, countless cards, dozens of casserole dishes, one small town.
70 years a wife and mother, 91 years a writer and reader and giver. They say it’s a long life well lived, a condolence well meant, but a few more days here with us would have been well spent.
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