Capturing Contentment in the Everyday…
“I have just learnt to love a hyacinth.” — Catherine Morland, Northanger Abbey
(“And how might you learn? By accident or argument?” — Henry Tilney’s response)
The white daisies are still from St. Valentine’s Day, and the yellow from Rascal’s Blue & Gold Banquet this past week. They are quite cheerful, especially yesterday when it was raining and over half the Haus down with some form of cold.
One shoe on, one shoe off.
Forget the Sword in the Stone: Sir Reginald attempts the greater challenge — to draw the Sword from the Biscuit.
(Ok, so I overcooked some dinner rolls the other day, and instead of eating them the kiddos decide to play with them. This is why I don’t attempt homemade dinner rolls that often.)
The tiniest sliver of crayon on the floor–she strikes. The pencil dropped by a brother as he goes to put away his school book–she strikes. ANY writing implement accidentally left within two feet of the ground–she strikes. Now if only her artistic talent matched Rapunzel in Tangled, it would be one thing. But it doesn’t, and we’re faced with the daily task of making sure we leave nothing in her reach–very hard when there are creative big brothers and sisters who want to color, and who will be so absorbed that they don’t notice the chubby little hand sneaking the crayon from the crayon cup next to them (and she is sneaky, believe me). So, it’s either scrub the walls down as we can and paint over the wretchedly indelible pencil scribbles… or postpone anything that has to do with pencils or crayons until she’s five.
Maybe we’ll get those wax tablets the Sheik is using in Ben-Hur?