But the back yard. That's my favorite. It's a great big overgrown lot full of grass and brush and weeds of every kind. Maybe it doesn't sound like a wonderland, but the last place we lived in was a townhouse with no yard, and my crunchy soul was dying a slow death with no dirt to play with or grass to run through with my bare feet. That, and I couldn't just tell the boys to go outside to play when they got wild. Instead it was always, "Shhhh, stop screaming, we don't want to bother the neighbors." all day long. They lived with the idea that we had perpetually sleeping neighbors who mustn't be woken up.
|Duncan examining a lovely butterfly. Butterflies are like magic to me.|
So, moving along. To complete the picture of where we're at now...
I stay at home with the boys. Duncan is five and Phineas is three.
We've started homeschooling.
I have an adorable conure who is feisty as can be, but when he's sleepy enough he lets me kiss his silky back feathers repeatedly and all is well.
We don't own a dog but we are surrounded by them regularly because there are six of them who live on the premises, and their main job around here is to handle inventory reduction. If there is something you have and you're not sure what to do with, just set it in the yard or leave it on your porch, and they will take care of it for you. When they're done with it and all that remains of it are small bits of chewed-up rubbish, there will be no doubt in your mind about what to do with it. Into the trash it goes.
Also, there is a horse constantly in the yard that belongs to the neighbor. She doesn't have a name, but I call her Jorsefina (pronounced horsayfina) because her owner's name is José and there's a funny backstory that won't be funny if I try to write it out.
That's it for now, lovelies. There's a bed and a book somewhere that are calling my name.