We finished reading Summer of the Monkeys out loud this morning. I cried, like I do at the end of most every read aloud. I just drove to a library across town to get a copy of the movie. Buzzard had fun plans tonight to attend a men's night at church with a friend, and Hannah was supposed to be at a birthday party. Since everyone had to bow out of plans, I thought we'd have family movie night and try to make it special. Buzzard wants Chinese food, so we'll have a carpet picnic for those who feel well enough to eat.
My washer and dryer have been pulling triple overtime these last few days. I do believe it has been extremely well documented on this blog how very much I despise the laundry chore. I'd pay someone a huge salary to come and fold and put away. By "huge salary" I mean, like, a chicken dinner, and so far I have found no takers. So, I limp along with the laundry and try to make peace with the fact that I will probably never be totally caught up in that area. On the plus side, it is always interesting to see what little treasures laundry day will yield. The past few days lent quite a little haul.
My not too meager wages totaled $1.28 in change, a screw, a drill bit, and a coveted plastic guinea pig. If anyone out there cares for a nearly full time job paying $1.28 and a delectable chicken dinner, let me know asap. In the meantime, I'll continue to bribe my daughter with extra T.V. time if she'll hang, fold, and sort.
On a side note...I checked out the movie Mouse Trap from the library for the boys. It must be a really cute movie because there are peels of laughter coming from the den as I type. It feels so good to hear giggles after so many days of upset tummys!
I have something potentially exciting to show you. Behold, my stems.
Last year I got a wheelbarrow full of daffodil and paper white bulbs from a friend who lives in the country. I must have planted a hundred bulbs across the entire front of my house in anticipation of this being a glorious spring. I must tell you that I am even worse at growing plants than I am at doing laundry. Even so, I wondered how hard can bulbs be?? You just plant them and leave them alone. Daffodils come up wild all over this city, so I know they can't be too complicated. Currently, I have four (yes, four out of one hundred) little clusters of stems. No blooms, but hearty, thriving stems that hold a promising look. Hopeful little stems waiting to boast cheerful flowers. I share with you because this has become my obsession. I check on my stems several times each day. I coax and nourish and beg and plead with them, pleeeaaaase won't you bloom where you are planted?? The show offs down the street have an entire curb brimming with daffodils in full bloom. Show. Offs. :)
One reason I care so much is that I live across the street from Peter Perfect. He and his family are tons of fun and great friends of ours, but we joke constantly about his landscape obsessions. I promise that every time a single leaf begins to quiver on a branch, Peter is under it with a rake and shovel ready to whisk it away in a tidy little lawn bag. He's the kind of neighbor who actually plants winter rye in his yard. So, while my little clumps of stems grace my brown, crunchy, stubbly terrain of a lawn, I can look out my window at his perfectly manicured greens that look fit for Tiger Woods to tee off. I was so hoping to put on a show of blazing, blooming, yellow and white glory for Peter Perfect this spring. I'm competing with his rows upon rows of pansies and bushy, thriving wood ferns. I'm not sure my four stems are making much of an impression so far, but I keep hoping for good things to come.
I'm off to order chicken lo-mein and move my 48th load of towels from the washer to the dryer. I hope everyone's weekend gets off to a wonderful start!