I wanted to share a few photos of the flowers we now have adorning the house. I do this partly because I fear that they will all die and I will have no evidence that a more knowledgeable hand planted them and yet, somehow, I killed them. Ha!
Here, also, is a photo of our blooming crab apple trees. They are already starting to lose those buds and become merely green trees.
Here are the annuals my mother-in-law planted where they had dug up a few small bushes (I have no idea what they are called):
More annuals (don't know if these will grow, since they are on the patio and it seems to be more mulch than dirt there):
They also purchased three lovely hanging baskets. Sadly, hubby informed me tonight that the yellow plant (again, I have no clue about names) is already looking like it is dying. I swear I haven't touched it once!
On Saturday morning, I went to get the mail and discovered a huge amount of litter right along the edge of our lawn (I have no patience for the rural litter problem). Apparently, someone was transporting some furniture late Friday night, and an entire vacuum cleaner fell off their vehicle. It was in about a million (o.k., maybe 15) pieces along the road. Later, hubby told me that there is a television on the side of the road around the corner, near our neighbor's farm. Crazy!
I actually took a video of the vacuum cleaner debris, but when I watched the footage, I realized how ridiculous I sounded giving a play-by-play of trash strewn at the edge of my lawn. It was kind of hilarious though, because as I was filming several bikers were riding by (they probably thought I was more of a lunatic than the lunatic who dropped their vacuum off their vehicle). Plus, MS came running out of the house asking me what I was doing. I tried to ignore him as I panned the debris, but then heard him shouting, "Is that YOUR VACUUM??" Give me a break, boy!
Actually, the boy did give me a break. Several weeks ago, his best friend, Evan, had invited him to a cool gymnastics birthday party. It was on Sunday from noon to two. I spent most of Sunday morning on the couch with a stomach ache and somehow completely forgot about the birthday party.
I sat MS down the next morning and primed the pump by explaining that I had made a mistake and it was something that was probably going to make him feel a bit angry with me. I apologized and said that I had forgotten to take him to Evan's birthday party. I braced myself for tears and angry retorts (like I normally hear - things like "You're the worst mom ever!").
Instead, he looked up at me and gently said, "It's o.k., Mommy, we have a trampoline we can jump on any time. Plus, we can invite Evan over to our house and then he can jump on the trampoline with us and we can show him the cool lamps big brother gave us." (ES cleaned out one of his closets and gave the boys his cool lamp collection including a disco ball, lava lamp and aqua lamp, plus a whole slew of car posters.)
On Monday, the two little boys began a two week stint of swimming lessons. Unlike ES and MS, who both went with me to the Hopkins Park Pool in DeKalb almost every summer day, YS really hasn't had much exposure to pools. ES taught himself to swim at age 4 and began doing flips off the diving boards at age 5. MS, at age 2, would toddle over to the edge of the pool, lower himself into the water and either cling to the edge (without floaties) or paddle the water to make himself spin (with floaties).
YS has cried and screamed the whole week (3 lessons, so far). MS thinks it is great fun and can't wait. YS spends all day agonizing about what is coming and begging me, "please don't make me do this again."
On Tuesday (after a long morning - they were told they couldn't do anything until their room was clean), the half hour prior to leaving for the pool was sheer torture. YS took 3 cups of water and poured them all over the floor of the bathroom. I had just cleaned that up and was preparing the swim bag. YS must have dug around in it while I went off to get my shoes. I returned to hear MS yelling, "Mom, look what YS did!"
The dog was covered in sunscreen, so much so that there was a puddle of sunscreen oozing off of him onto the floor. We were supposed to be leaving any minute. I grabbed up a towel and began sopping up the mess as best I could. Just then, the doorbell rang. As I opened it, the dog bolted out the door. I had to chase after him to get him back in the house and secured in the crate.
By the time we returned home from the little boys' swimming lessons and ES's drum lesson, the workmen (who had been laboring for most of the day) had finished the swing-set we recently purchased:
Thankfully, the boys have spent a lot of time playing on it since then. (I have always wondered about these wooden swing set structures, because so often we drive by others and barely ever see kids actually playing on them.) Selfishly, I would have rather spent the money on a trip to England to celebrate our 20th anniversary this year. Then again, the boys are really thrilled with it. Besides, I wouldn't even have the energy to pack my bags.
Then, this morning, for who knows what reason, YS decided that he would cover the dog in mulch. Now here's the irony: When someone's vacuum cleaner drops off their truck, I document the experience with photos and videos. Sadly, I failed to capture either the sunscreen slathered Harley or the mulch maculated Harley. I'm only glad that I delayed washing him until after the mulch experience.
And thus, (with my run-down complete) I will head to bed because I, myself, am a rather pooped pup!
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