Sideyard Sunday

Mojo and I agreed: it was an odd sort of Sunday.

Started off with the Tour, as I described in the post below. Actually, no, it started off with me posting about soccer in the pre-dawn basement, with Peep and Mo asleep.

The little guy had gotten a very late bedtime the night before - due mostly to the deep conversations he was having with Snaky the Snake about global finance (I think).

Great peeper moment, tho: I went in to tell him to stop kicking the wall and he looked out of the pile of bedclothes and said: "It's my wall!" I had to agree (before adding "...And I want you to stop kicking it.")

But the following morning was really lazy, in a sort of disaffected way. As the picture on top shows, I got out the ladder our friend
Christine (of Oscar the Ginormous Fish fame) had left with us to scrape paint off the gable ends but it was too short.

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Mojo's quilt went unquilted - she's having trouble and we agreed that a hobby that frustrates you isn't a fun hobby.

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We piddled around the house for a bit and finally decided that it was time to clean out the kitchen cabinets and install the "Rationell" sliding cabinet inserts I'd brought home from The Pile Pour in Seattle.

So we emptied out the groceries - a job in itself, I tell you, which involved sorting through a bunch of food-like items and discarding anything with a pre-2005 expiration date.

Though I want to state for the record that the dried shaved squid had NOT gone bad. Godammit, honey, it's supposed to smell like that!

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We managed to get everything out of the way and then Daddy went to work with drill, screwdriver and lots of Bad Words. I'm not sure which of the three drove Peep into his room, but he didn't emerge until the entire process was completed.

And here they are. Lovely to look at! Delightful to hold! Damn, I do good work...

The next excitement was the arrivals of our friends the Rava family, with their full quotient of noisy fun. Their two kids, Ethan (who is nine) and Etzion (who is Peep's age) and Peep had a great time playing, first outside...

...then with the Hot Wheels track (and there were some spectacular pileups there, let me tell you)...

...and then in the nearby McKenna Park.

There was lots of running, lots of shrieking, a bit of soccer playing (though it is hard to stop the Peeper from using his hands - soul of a goalie, that boy). All conducted at great volume and intensity - hallmarks of a Rava visit.

Here's a fierce Peep emerging from the Twisty Slide, also known as the Ass Grabber, cunning trap for all middle-aged butts.





Until finally evening arrived and all had to go home. Peep went to bed early, tired out, the little sweetie. He was a total lovie all day. Nice.

And we went to bed early, too. All this child-rearing and home improvement - it's tough!

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But good. Damn good. The payoff isn't in riches or fame, but love and laughter. There's a wonderful bit of dialogue in Robert Bolt's "A Man For All Seasons" where More's syncophant Richard Rich asks for "a position" and More replies that he, Rich, should be a teacher, that he'd be a great teacher. Rich wails that who would know, who would CARE, if he were a teacher!? More (in the cragged person of the rough-velvet-voiced Paul Scofield) looks down at Rich and says carefully: "You. Your students. God. Not a bad public, that."

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You. Your kids. God. Not a bad public at all