Passive aggressive or suprisingly skilled?

Of squirrels and neighbors. . .

It came to my attention this afternoon that we either have highly skilled squirrels in our backyard or an extremely passive aggressive neighbor. I discovered no less than 12 corn cobs in the backyard. That's more than a dozen ears of corn that have been consumed and abandoned. But by whom?



Is it possible that the squirrels have a particular interest in using our yard as a cob repository? Or is it carelessness on their way to another more exciting (and tidy) backyard?

Maybe I should make it clear that we are not the providers of the corn. That being said, you might expect the occasional cob accidentally left in the yard by a hurried squirrel. OCCASIONAL.

We're talking more than a dozen scattered in close proximity to one another.

And then it occurred to me. What if it isn't the squirrels at all?

What if the neighbor is intimating his displeasure with the condition of our yard or our neighborly prowess? What if HE is throwing the cobs into our yard?

So I did a little bit of investigating . . . . and while I can't be sure whether it is the surprisingly consistent squirrels or his passive aggressiveness leaving the corn cobs. . . I can be sure that he is the one providing the corn cobs.



What to do? Stake out? Encourage our honeysuckle to grow even more menacingly over his fence? Baked goods as peace offering? Squirrel trap? new 'found art' forum?

With a bit more thought I've come to wonder whether or not squirrels can typically remove a cob from such an apparatus. . . . the plot thickens.

5 years of blogging?!

I've always wanted a montage. Manipulative music, swelling at just the right moments, framing the moments of our lives. . . ahh, yes if only there were a camera rolling all day everyday. And then of course the film crew, the editing staff and a whole mess of other people who could do the manipulative soundtrack.

Sadly, we've had no such crew over these last 5 years. 5 YEARS(?!!) to the date from when we first announced that there was a dead hippo in the yard. Now would be a great time for that montage. A moment to reflect on how our lives have changed, my how the children have grown, ahhh what a happy little life they lead. Alas, no montage.

What I can offer you though are some of my own highlights. There are stories that I jotted down here that I like to think are great snapshots of our lives.

Enjoy.

I'll just, you know. .

Son of a . . .

Monkey Prayer

My Boy Now?

Can't Love You Anymore

ABC Poop She still picks this book off the shelf occassionally and CRACKS UP at the dirty pig. And yes, she still insists that it says poop. Neveryoumind that she can actually read at this point.

The Hair (and perhaps the early stages of their more recent insistence on being filmed).

Mama Mania

Desperately Seeking Sunflowers

Which gets us dangerously close to present day. And I"m assuming you can navigate these last few months sans tour guide or manipulative music.


And now for another 5 years . . .

By the way . . . It's an honor to have you along.

A bird's eyeview

Ok so really, it is my eye view of a bird bashing into my bedroom window - REPEATEDLY.

We've determined that it is a female cardinal. What that gets us, I don't know. Team spirit? Now, I don't really know how birds are supposed to fill their days. But I am sure that this is not it. Shouldn't she be building a nest? Getting a worm? Migrating? Like I said, I don't know what her regularly scheduled responsibilities might be, but she is clearly shirking them.

She starts with the bashing and pecking somewhere around 5:30am and continues throughout the day. What was at first tragic (aww poor confused bird, don't hurt yourself) turned infuriating (I'm chopping down the tree and buying a pellet gun)is now somehow comforting (ahh . . .must be morning). Ok maybe not comforting, but at least familiar. Now all we need to do is name her. Any suggestions?



What the video doesn't capture is the racket. The bashing crashing flapping racket that characterizes this futile effort. And as Jeremy has just pointed out to me, a minute is an awfully long time to stare at the bedroom window. You should get a good idea of what we're dealing with in just the first 25 seconds and are then excused from watching the rest of the video.

These go up to 11.

Well, today is the day. The boy officially turns 11 just before noon today. We've wondered for weeks what changes this milestone birthday might bring. After all, he starts middle school in a few months, has recently had his heart broken by a particular girl, all the signs are there . . . he is growing up.

We took a picture last night before bed to commemorate what "10" looked like. He asked, "So, do you think I'll look any older tomorrow?"



Well, friends, what do you think? Does "11" look any older?

Ahhh spring . . .

"Mom can't you just smell it?! The grass is growing!"

Upon walking out into a balmy 56 degree sunny morning. If only you could hear the wonder in his voice. Spring. Possibility. Life. Ahhh . . . . .deep breaths.

(Only . . . .this happened last week and I was a bit slow on the publishing. Deepest regrets)

Comments!!!

You guys. . . . seriously . . . I had NO idea you had been commenting!! They were all (yes all 20-something) sitting unmoderated in the bowels of Jeremy's blogger account. Here I thought I'd become dreadfully dull and no one wanted to read about our little exploits.

Thanks for the comments!! Keep 'em coming and I'll be sure to find a way to actually read them and post them and all that jazz.

Of towel rings and cowboys

I'm like freaking Rambo or She-ra or a Little Blue Engine That Could!!

This towel ring sat on the counter for 2, yes 2, months hoping that someone would hang it up. Somehow I thought I needed help or that I didn't want to do it or that a stranger might wander in and say (in a scratchy southern cowboy drawl) "ya need a little help with that there towel ring?" To which, I would obviously reply "Why yes, I most certainly do" in my sweetest southernest voice (open parasol).

But guess what?! Cowboy stranger never mosied thisaway.

I decided suddenly yesterday that there was no good reason why I couldn't do it mydamnself.

And I did!

Looks purty doesn't it?

Just the one. . .

What did you wear to work today? How much thought did you put into it?

As we know, dressing to venture out in the world can be a daunting task. Some of us (excluding myself of course)fare better than others in this department. You know that day in junior high PE when the girls are separated from the boys and taught all things fashion hair and makeup so that they can successfully navigate the next 70 years as a woman? Yeah . . . I was absent that day.

Recently though I wonder if it might be genetic. (gasp) I wonder too if there is science to suggest that it skips a generation. (double gasp) Judging by my mother's fashion focus and my daughter's burgeoning interest in accessories. . . I'm the odd man out. errrr woman. See? missed that day.

Sedona has started putting an awful lot of thought into her daily ensembles. Just yesterday she announced (while carefully securing a headband)"I'm trying to look like a teenager today." (and with a flourish) "How did I do?"

Today, she wore one leg warmer. Yes, just the one. I inquired about the possibility of a second leg warmer but it was obviously a ridiculous question. I clearly don't have the gene.

Fashionista in the making.



Stay tuned for Sedona's take on girls' basketball fashion.