Okay, it's true: I'm in love with J, the Two Year Old. This morning as he left for daycare, he gave me a hug and a kiss and then handed me his color cards. Emily said that was to keep Nana out of trouble, but I think he thinks I need help with my colors and shapes.
Last night, I was trying to be creative while cutting his sunflower butter sandwich for today's lunch. So I cut strips on the diagonal across the whole slice of bread. Emily looked in his bento box this a.m. (she hates it if I forget to put in utensils; I figure it's all finger food, but what the heck) and said, "Whoa. Was Nana a little drunk last night?" That made me laugh and laugh.
Today is another day with rain and possible thunder storms. I'm grateful that it's not too hot, but with all of this humidity, I am back to my curly-headed French poodle look. That's o.k. We here are The House of Curls. And Emily's water is much softer than mine in Amherst making my hair softer after a wash. It's really strange that my hair has three 'personalities' between Amherst, Worcester, and Palm Springs.
A couple of weekends ago, we went to the Davis Farm in Sterling, Massachusetts. It was 3 hours of fun. There were all kinds of baby animals and we got to see them bottle feeding calves. J. could have helped but even though the calves were "small," J. felt it was better to keep his distance from the large animal. He was, however, totally fascinated with the alligators. (A is for alligator.) I did not expect to see alligators, but it turns out that almost all of the animals were/are rescues and someone had illegally smuggled the alligators who were rescued by the Wildlife people.
The Davis Farm also had a large splash area with lots of sprays and water canons in the middle. As J and Emily walked in, none of us noticed the jet right behind him that shot up 10 feet into the air, soaking his back and head. It scared him so badly that he didn't want to go near it again. Later on, while playing on some playground equipment, we notice that the other side of the 'splash park' is more our speed with babies crawling around in the water. Very little spraying was going on there. We'll go there first next time. Although it was very expensive and not too crowded because it wasn't too hot then. So that might have been a one time thing.
We have discovered that we like the swings and slides at Burncoat Park which is right next to the Burncoat branch of the Worcester Public Library. It's cute to watch the little kids. J is fascinated by the "big kids" and he couldn't take his eyes off the girl riding a hot pink two wheeler. It was her first time without training wheels (she is 8 years old) and she zipped around the playground like crazy.
It was interesting to me to see that the mothers of color really dressed up their kids with hair bows and fancy sun glasses and glittery sneakers. Last time, there was a Chinese Dad and his son had yellow shoes that looked like taxis, and the baby girl had cute yellow shoes.
Tonight might just be another night for the home spa.
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Finally Done:
This little table topper is in its new home in Rancho Mirage, CA. It took me longer than usual because it's hand quilted and because ... well just because. It's about 20" x 20" and is a nice summery theme.
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Jackson (AKA Action Jackson) has forgiven me for excluding him from my room. When I have a fur ball in the morning, I want to know it's from my seasonal allergies and not a real fur ball from a cat.
He has actually decided that he likes my lap, or he prefers me to no company at all -- after all, he is a cat. The only major downside to this is that when he's particularly comfy, he 'makes biscuits.' This is the really cute cat habit of kneading your legs. To me this is not called making biscuits; to me it's called "scratching the shit out of my legs right through my clothing!"
Right now, Jackson is watching cat TV -- looking out of the open screened second floor window. He gave a cheery chirp to the butterfly as it fluttered by, but Jackson seems to be in deep conversation with birds.
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I have been binge watching "House" on Amazon Prime and I'm dangerously close to finishing. I don't know what I'll do for my fix of snarkiness and witty dialogue without it.
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At this point, I'm out of stories so I'm going to have to ressurect some oldies. If you've heard them, too bad.
It was Valentine's Day some years ago and I was driving through slush to the Butterfly Farm in Deerfield to perform a wedding. I was annoyed with myself because I had forgotten to bring my robe (which I wore when I got my master's degree. I figured it was one way to amortize my school costs). Now I had retrieved the robe and still arrived on time. The Butterfly Farm was closed (they don't fly in the dark), but the manager had said she was keeping it open for this small wedding. I waited in the greenhouse, which was semi dark, for the bride and groom to show up. At one point, the manager came in to inform me that the bride still hadn't arrived but they had called and said they would be a little late. I asked her what the bird-like sounds I was hearing came from and she said, "Birds. We have baby quail walking around freely."
Finally someone arrived. It was the maid of honor, a best man and one guest. The maid of honor approached me and she seemed to have something on a leash, which she picked up as she neared me.
It was the ring bearer. The ring bearer was a weasel.
After asking if I could pet it, I reached out my hand and the weasel reciprocated and stretched out a very rat-like paw. They are very lucky that I was not the type to screech and run away.
It turns out that the bride and fiance had told the Town Clerk's office all about the weasel and they laughed heartily -- and never told me.
And yes, weasels would happily eat baby quail -- I looked it up. But the only thing this guy did was poo on the walkway. The bride was an hour late.
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Again, this was some years ago.
The wedding was outside under a spreading (oak??) tree and the reception would be at the Red Barn on the campus of Hampshire College. It was lovely outside with folding chairs set up for the guests and a little table with a table cloth and a bottle of wine.
The "photographer" was a class of photography students from the Hallmark Photography College in Montague, Mass. Half a dozen photogs clicked away as if they were a mini band of papparzzi.
The wine was very special since the woman had grown the strawberries and the man had turned them into wine. Their sharing a sip of the wine had been written into the ceremony.
The setting couldn't have been more perfect or more romantic on that lovely sunny day as the bride arrived by horse drawn wagon. Of course, it was the draft horses from Muddy Brook Farm who are very impressive. (Think of Budweiser Clydesdales without the furry feet. These are BIG horses.)
The ceremony was going off without a hitch. And then we came to the wine toast. I think it dawned on all of us at the same time that there were no glasses. Get the glasses! the bride hissed in a stage whisper. A guy took off running for the Red Barn. It wasn't that far, but it was through a pasture.
So there I am ... I said to the guests, "Talk amongst yourselves," and tried to become invisible or at least get out of the way of the photogs.
After the toast everything was fabulous including the reception of hot and cold hors d'ouevres.
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Because I really like looking at jellies!
Cheers! Be well and be good to yourself!
