February Photos

Friday, June 24, 1994

Friday, June 24, 1994...Bee-nock-lurs

The four older children have World Stamp Albums. We collect used stamps only; saves $$. Sometimes even $$$$.

I just got a new fountain pen. I’m every bit as good, if not a wee bit better, as Charlie Brown is with his fountain pen. As near as I can tell, the main reason anyone would use one of these relics is the importance one feels when saying imperviously, “Beauregard! Wouldest thou deliver to me mine fountain pen; and snap it up, wouldja?!”

Today I splurged and bought a good pair of binoculars, a 10x50 wide-angle with completely stabilized and coated optics. Bob, oh boy, are they ever nifty! After supper, we drove out to Lake Babcock to try them out watching the birds doing their before-bedtime calisthenics.

As we gazed out over the rippling water, a dazzling pink, lavender, and orange in the light of the setting sun, Lydia asked, “Where are all the bad hawks?” (Babcock = bad hawk.)

Well, we arrived at a certain vantage point between tree and lake, and the place was absolutely teeming with wildlife, so we parked and alit. The children spotted the playground toys; and, with loud war whoops of joy, were off and running. Three were on the swings: eeeeEEE! eeeeEEE! eeeeEEE! Two were on the merry-go-round: screeeee--screeeee! Two were on the slippery slide which wasn’t, so they had to use their feet to pull themselves down: Thuddity BOOM Thuddity BOOM Thuddity BOOM. One kid proceeded to run up the slide: BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM!!!

And all this was accompanied by many squeals and shrieks of delight, which is why I believe we will soon be hearing reports from Africa, Singapore, Tokyo, and such like, of sightings of bewildered American birds. So much for trying out the new binoculars.

Well, I’ve felt important long enough. I am now writing with a ‘Bic stic’ which costs $1.29/dozen. Much better.

Did I tell you about Hester and Lydia’s sidewalk chalk? Lydia was having such a scribblingly swell time, that later we discovered chalk on the Suburban and car; fortunately, not the van, which Larry had just painted.

“It didn’t need it,” she explained.

Teddy and Joseph have been bringing in many cupfuls of mulberries from our tree in the backyard. (I wonder how many more cupfuls I’d have, if there were no purple stains around their mouths?) So I made mulberry muffins; and, since a friend brought me a bunch of rhubarb, I made mulberry/rhubarb pie, and mulberry/rhubarb crisps. Dorcas used my zucchini bread recipe to make mulberry/rhubarb bread. Yum! Fatter and fatter.

I’ve been practicing writing script with machine embroidery, using my trusty Bernina 830 Record. I’m getting pretty good at it--my goodness; the last time I tried it, several people actually came purty close to guessing whose name I’d written!

We have two miniature sewing machines. They look like mine, and they sew a nice chain stitch. I give Hester my scraps, and she sits at a little table behind me sewing happily away. She took a square, folded it, sewed it, turned it right side out, looked at it quizzically. Then she went and got her butterfly sunglasses, and slid them into the pocket.

“Now how ’bout that!” she said in utter amazement. “I sewed a glasses case; and I hadn’t even planned on it!”

My sister-in-law Annette made Hester and Lydia beautiful doll cakes for their birthdays. Hester was eating cake and chocolate/marshmallow ice cream.

“I can really taste the mushrooms!” she announced.

Caleb is trying to crawl--stink-bug fashion, according to Joseph. He travels laboriously along, doing his vacuum-cleaner impression--picking up anything he can find, poking it into his mouth, smiling sweetly at me, and saying, “Icky!” which must mean “This tastes good” in Infantese.

When I was making those rhubarb pies, I filled one of the pans too full, so, of course, it ran over. And, of course, it burned. And, of course, smoke began billowing out of the oven vent. So I turned on the fan, turned off the oven, jerked out the crisps, grabbed a kitchen chair and fled madly down the hallway where I shinnied up onto the chair, teetered on my tiptoes, and ripped the smoke detector out of the ceiling before it took fright and began blasting away, awaking men and children alike.

I am trying to get a good picture for the photo contest. So I backed the van out of the garage... (it was already spotless). Dorcas pretended to be wiping a wheel; Joseph dried a window; Hannah a door. Teddy stood holding a hose with a spray nozzle, a towel on his arm, big green bucket (with a crack in the bottom) at his feet, billowing with bubbles (courtesy of Hester’s putrid Roses, Roses bubble bath). Lydia hid behind Joseph while Hester sneaked around Dorcas with a squirt gun.

I backed up to take their picture just as Jimmy, the snotty newspaper kid who always ignores us, rode by on his bike. Suddenly, he turned and stared at all these wooden Indians, frozen in action. He got his bike under control and turned and stared again. haha It was Jimmy’s face that would’ve won the contest.

Well, I am now working on Christmas and Thanksgiving clothes. Yes, yes; I know it’s only June; but I’ve got lots of clothes to make! And I have to write the Christmas program. That’s a job and a half; and I must be done by Thanksgiving, because the day after Thanksgiving, rehearsals begin. And Caleb’s every whim and wish come first, of course.

I made a skirt with big box pleats for Hannah and one to match for Lydia; and ruffled blouses with peplums will go with them. For Caleb I made a pair of gray and red plaid wool knickers with suspenders, and Hannah is making Lydia a skirt with suspenders to match. They will have pin-striped western blouse and shirt.

Hannah is new at this sewing venture. Crocheting--she can do that lickety-split with one arm tied behind her back and both eyes shut. But sewing?--that’s a beast of another species. She’s been habbin’ a real debble ub a time. Knots from not putting presser foot down. Knots from filling bobbin too full. Interfacing puckers. Seam on straps pucker. Seams crooked. But if she does this the way she does anything else, she’ll have it all down pat and be stitching with skill before the postman ever delivers this letter. (Especially if I only write half the address, like I did last time.)

There’s a mosquito in here, and Larry and I have our Dagwood and Blondie acts reversed: he snores happily, oblivious to this buzzy, aggravating dive bomber, while I leap wildly from one side of the bed to the other, swatting furiously, setting up tremendous tidal waves. (Yeah, it's a waterbed.)

Rats. I missed.

Aleutia keeps having bunny for midnight snack, the cannibal.

Hester said, “Why do they keep coming in our yard?! Don’t they know any better?! Is that why they call them dumb bunnies?”

Larry is muttering in his sleep, “Wake up! You’re making me go to sleep;” and I suspect he means that the other way around; so I’d better close here, turn out the light, climb into bed, snuggle all up and warm up my cold, cold feet and “YEEEOOOWW!!” (That was him.)

Mercy! They must’ve been even colder than I thought!

“Go back to sleep, dear.”

Thursday, June 9, 1994

Thursday, June 9, 1994...Indian Cave State Park & Bonko

For Memorial Day, we went down to the southeast corner of Nebraska to Indian Cave State Park. We drove along through a canopy of trees, over hill and dale, with occasional glimpses of the Missouri River. Finally we decided to stop and have a picnic, since our stomachs’ rumblings were drowning out the warbling of the pretty songbirds. We found a nice spot right across the lane from a set of swings, teeter-totter, and merry-go-round--and that’s when Lydia sat bolt upright and sighed in relief:

“Oh, good! We’re finally to the park!”

Once, Larry came walking to the van with his hands full of bottles of juice. Hannah slid the window open to take some; Lydia, on her lap, whirled around to see what kinds there were, and bumped her head on the door.

“Oh, bonko!” Hannah exclaimed sympathetically.

Lydia was so excited over the juice (it was 100° that day, and she was thirsty), she mustn’t have even noticed she’d bumped her head.

“I want some Bonko!” she cried gleefully.

We got Dorcas and Teddy new Schwinn mountain bikes--15-speed and 10-speed, respectively. These are early birthday presents; by the time their birthdays arrive, they will have ridden their legs off, I think. Teddy’s is red, and Dorcas’ is fuschia.

I’ve been sewing up a storm--our little five-pound baby is now five years old and preparing for kindergarten, and, as she said, “I haven’t a thing to wear!” And it’s the truth--all our size sixes were burned up in the fire six years ago; and, since Dorcas was just growing into a seven, we didn’t replace any of the sixes. So--no hand-me-downs.

Hester knows her alphabet and numbers, can write quite a few words, and count as long as you care to listen.

Last year one day she announced, “I’m almost big enough for school, so it’s high time I learned to write!” She nodded her head briskly, and scurried off for pencil and paper. “I sure don’t want anyone to think I’m a dumb bunny!” she called back over her shoulder.

And learn to write she did, by the end of the day. She could write and recognize the entire alphabet and the whole family’s names.

Lydia was commiserating with Caleb: “We’re gonna miss Hester when she goes to kitty garden, aren’t we?” She smiled at him sweetly. “But it’ll be okay, ’cuz then, I’ll be your big sister!”

Caleb chose that moment to flash her a big smile.

Lydia beamed at me. “See? He’s really gonna like that, isn’t he?”

I managed to get Hester’s birthday dress done just in time for church last night. It was tan with little orange and yellow sunflowers all over it, a big white ruffled yoke around the shoulders and down the front, and a wide orange sash. Then I rushed off to Wal-Mart for neon orange lace anklets for her to wear with her white leather three-buckle sandals; a little resin sunflower on which I glued a pin back and pinned to the collar; and a giant silk sunflower, which I glued onto the turned-up brim of a little straw boater with orange knit band all around the crown. I took the curlers out of her hair, brushed it, and tied the hat’s ribbons under her chin, and she headed for my big cheval mirror.

“Well!” she exclaimed, turning this way and that, “if I don’t look utterly too-too!”

One day several of the kids were having end-of-the-year picnics. That morning, rush hour at our house only took half an hour. I packed lunch boxes for Dorcas and Teddy with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, small bowls of fruit, little containers of juice, and cookies. I started my bread machine. No, I don’t use pre-packaged mix. Combed the boys’ hair.

As Joseph attempted to slick his own wig down, Hester informed him, “Joseph! You have a chicken on the back of your head!” Changed Caleb and fed him. Reminded Joseph to take his homemade hamburger buns. Sent Joseph’s buns with Keith, since Joseph went off without them. Did I mention breakfast? Whew!

Caleb weighs 25 pounds now, and he’s 7 ½ months old. Whew again. Just last night he sprouted his third tooth.

On the last day of school, we were taking the annual picture of all the school kids out in front of the school when the UPS man drove by on the street adjacent.

“SMILE!” he bellowed through his open door, and the entire group of 82 kids broke out laughing.

The UPS man drove on, much pleased with himself.

We have wild canaries and purple finches eating from our feeder today. I’ve taken their picture with my new 200mm lens mounted on my new tripod, but my flash refuses to flash because of the bright sky. So, I probably have several lovely pictures of silhouettes against the blue sky. It’s rather frustrating to have a camera that’s smarter than the operator. I’ve read my instruction book twice to no avail. You see, it was written by someone whose major language was not English.

It begins: “As you became familiarized yourself with this camera,...” and it gets worse from there.

As the Readers Digest once reported, “So, while some 63 million of the earth’s inhabitants speak English, the rest, it seems, try to.”

Anyway, I finally figured out how to set it on manual focus; how to change aperture, how to change shutter speed; any two of those combinations; or all three. I do not know how to make it flash when it doesn’t want to, however. This is a Minolta MAXXUM SPxi, the newest generation. I think it’s my favorite possession. Well, almost. I’ve just learned where I can get a 600mm lens for it, with all the automated compatibility. I have not, unfortunately, learned where I can get the $9000 it takes to purchase this intelligent little gizmo. Wish-box filler; that’s all it is, and all it ever will be. Unless I win the lottery. But since I don't play...

Caleb finally said Lydia’s name Tuesday! (Well, sort of.) He’s said words for all the other kids, but Lydia’s must’ve sounded a little too hard. But Lydia came trotting into his room, and he said, “Hi, Duh-duh!”

Lydia was thrilled. “Now he knows who I am!”

The other day Caleb was sitting on my lap barefoot, when he spotted his toes. He stared. Then he leaned over, grabbed them, said, “Piddies!” and grinned up at me.

Larry just got done painting and re-siding a pop-up pickup camper he got to go into the crewcab box. We will put a rubber ‘boot’ between the back cab window and front pop-up window to make it a crawl-through. Our camper trailer is newly painted, and has new tires and wheels. The crewcab is newly painted, too; boy, oh boy! you should’ve heard the discussions we had over what shade of blue to paint it. Larry won that round. But! -- I won the round over what kind of striping to put on the van...because!--I threatened to sideswipe his pickup with the van if I didn’t get my way. (Really, he knows I wouldn’t; but these interesting discussions do keep the children well entertained.)

Keith spends his days working at Larry’s shop. His first big paycheck made him feel like a millionaire.

There’s a funny baby bird out on our fence: it’s kind of large; black back and top half of head; white breast and bottom half of head. What is it, I wonder?

Hannah helpfully suggested it was a penguin, perhaps. Silly goose. Now there’s a dumb ol’ cowbird out on the lawn, strutting along with a flock of starlings. A pair of orioles and a pair of purple martins are nesting in our back yard, and they give us a grand serenade every morning.

There are six baby squirrels playing on the church porch across the street. One scrambled right up the wrought-iron scrolls that hold up the porch awning and sat up at the top chattering away.

Well, Caleb is waking up, and he’ll soon notice his tummy is rubbing his backbone. I’ll feed him, then check Joseph’s room to make sure he didn’t clean it by cramming all the mess under his headboard or something--in which case I’ll cram him under there, too.

P.S.: Never mind; no I won’t; he won’t fit.

P.S.S.: I just discovered Caleb has three more teeth on top--making six altogether!

Further addendums:
We got a twin stroller for Lydia and Caleb, and then we got Hester and Lydia each a twin doll stroller. You should’ve seen their eyes when they unwrapped those boxes!

Aleutia, our big Siberian husky, always goes with us on our walks. She heels well enough that I probably don’t need the leash, but I’d sure be horrified if she forgot herself and ate one of the neighbors’ cats. The cat would be horrified too. And maybe even the neighbor.

Well, Larry got our new van done in time for Memorial Day! And what fun we had. It drives and rides like a dream (at least, in comparison to the crewcab) (although probably not in comparison to my brother’s Lincoln) (but we can’t fit in that, anyway); and--imagine this--I can scoot the seat up far enough and tilt the wheel down low enough that I can actually reach the foot pedals! And see over the steering wheel! (Being an almost-midget has its drawbacks.)
We went down southeast to Indian Cave State Park; crossing the Missouri River into Iowa a ways; back over it again into Nebraska, and once more over a different bridge to Rockport, Missouri; then south to a little park in Kansas. The scenery was beautiful, watching the Missouri rippling along beneath the high cliffs, with raptors soaring overhead, entertaining us with their antics and haunting cries.