Yesterday he was listening to a CD of George Beverly Shea, the gospel singer who often sang during Billy Graham’s crusades.
“I like George Beb— Bebber— Bebberly—” he came to a stop.
Teddy helpfully intoned, “Borge Sheverly Bay,” which of course caused his little brother to dissolve into giggles.
When Hester was little, she thought Aleutia got her puppies out of the bathroom cupboard.
Larry has taken his camera to the shop and is taking pictures of his six-door pickup as its development advances. Too bad we didn’t think to take a picture of it before he started!
Tuesday I did bookwork all day. Guess what I did last month? I forgot to record a $1,065 deposit we’d made. Good thing it was a deposit, rather than a withdrawal I’d omitted, yes? You can be sure, I had my checkbook out paying bills in nothing flat.
Tuesday we got Hannah a Peak Flow Meter at Walgreens. She is to blow into it at least once a day, and record the pounds of air pressure. It should be about 350 pounds, but yesterday it was only 180. She’s got a cold, which always makes the asthma worse. I tried out the meter, and hit 350, right on the dot. (I gave myself a headache in the process, however.)
I spent Thursday afternoon and evening wrapping three more boxes full of presents I’d collected. Now all the ladies are crossed off my list, and only several men and boys remain. I think it’s much harder to buy presents for men than ladies, because, after all! How many ties does a man really want?? But, of course, a lady would appreciate innumerable necklaces and bottles of perfumes and such like. (Well, most ladies, anyway; I’d like innumerable photo albums and film cartridges, don’t you know.) (And Aunt Lynn would probably rather have a new horse or two.)
The other night, Keith and Esther were making lists of what everybody wanted for Christmas.
When they came to me, I announced, “Really, really warm boots, and a twin-sized electric blanket for only my side of the bed, since your father is hot enough already.”
At that, Teddy unobtrusively exited the room, returning posthaste with a large bulky sweater which he proceeded to drape around my shoulders, saying in an overly-sympathetic voice, “Poor Mama must be cold!”
I swatted at him, but he skedaddled backwards, and I missed.
At that point, Caleb trotted in with my thickest mittens. “Here’s some glovies for your hannies!” said he, giggling.
(Now, that kid, I caught.)
We’ve been practicing Christmas songs in Jr. Choir, which gets the children all inspired and looking toward Christmas with much anticipation. I wish I had time enough to work individually with some of them; we have quite a bit of talent here.
In my Avon order this week, I got a song book with electronic Christmas songs that was to be a Christmas present for Caleb. But I bumped a button, and it promptly played ‘Frosty The Snowman’, which brought Caleb running, on the double. So he got it now, rather than on December the 25th.
At the moment, he’s galloping down the hall, singing at top velocity, “Thumpity thump thump, thumpity thump thump!”
(No, Victoria is not sleeping.)
(Not now, anyway.)
You know, it sure is difficult to indulge in a private little snack around here before everybody goes to bed; someone invariably discovers me and wants some, too. And, of course, there isn’t always enough for everyone. This happened with the last handful of honey-roasted peanuts. Not a soul was around, and I was hungry. I knew those nuts were in the cupboard, and the more I tried to forget them, the louder they called. And there was only one handful. I finally sneaked into the kitchen, silently got them out, poured them into my hand----and there was Lydia, smiling at me.
“What are you eating?”
My mouth was full; no use trying to deny that I was eating something.
“Beamuts.”
Following came the inevitable “Could I have some?”
So I did what I always do--I gave them to her.
I poured them into the lid, set them down on the table in front of her, and told her not to tell anybody. She’d barely put one nut into her mouth, when Caleb came along. She calmly covered the lid with both hands. And while he puttered about, talking to us, playing, getting himself a drink, and so on, she surreptitiously smuggled one after another into her mouth. I tried not to laugh.
But it wasn’t long before Caleb smelled peanuts.
“Could I have some?” he asked beseechingly.
So Lydia surrendered her last precious few peanuts to her little brother, and then she could control her giggles no longer. Caleb, carefully chewing his prized peanuts, looked on the merriment with sparkling eyes.
“I know what’s so funny!” he chuckled. “It’s because we’re sneaking these peanuts away from the other kids!”
I finally finished Victoria’s Christmas dress. The ruffled skirt, attached to a sleeveless top, is flowered white satin jacquard. The jacket is forest green taffeta, double-breasted, and sports twelve gold and silver buttons down the front, a big embroidered organza double-pointed collar with Venice lace around it, and bows at the two inverted V’s at the bottom side fronts and at the pleat on the sleeves’ wrists. I copied a dress I saw in the Storybook Heirlooms catalog which sold for $128. I used scraps of leftover material, only buying three cards of buttons for 25¢ each. That’s all. There are over a dozen seams in the skirt’s ruffle--I was nearly out of scraps!
Lawrence and Norma happened to go to the Salvation Army in York the day they were having a sale: every last item in the store, excluding furniture, was $.99 each. They bought several nice suits for Keith and Teddy, brand-new jeans, a bright purple fur double-breasted coat for Dorcas which she dearly loves, and a black tweed coat for Hannah.
I thought, “Splendid! Now she’ll quit hauling off with mine!”
No such luck.
Boy, oh boy, did we ever have a wild and wooly game with Missouri Saturday afternoon. First, Missouri got a touchdown; then we got two touchdowns; they got another; then we did; they did; us; them; us; them; ........ until we went into overtime with the score 38-38. And then, we won!! 45-38. Whew! That’s the sort of thing nitroglycerin companies depend on, to stay in business. Nay, to make a profit! A big profit.
Just before the game began, Teddy and Joseph mowed the yard, filling many bags with leaves. Boy, were they ever moving in high gear!--they didn’t want to miss any of the opening plays!
The game was played in Columbia, Missouri. It didn’t rain like it did the previous week; the sky was blue and sunny. However, the Missouri fans got soaked anyway--something went awry with the sprinkler system on one end of the field. They valiantly sat there anyway. And then, poor things, to add insult to injury, their team lost.
I just found the birthday card Joseph gave Caleb last month: “Dear Caleb: Happy birthday to my favorite little brother. I love you! Love, Joseph.” That one gets saved.
Larry took some pictures with his camera (it’s the one that motley group left behind when they were chased out of Chief Hosa Campground west of Denver last year after they built a ground fire in such dry weather last year, as you may recall). One shows Joseph, Caleb, and Hester by the stream beside which we ate breakfast.
When Caleb first saw this picture, his eyebrows flew right up to the top of his head. “Was that when I was taller than Joseph?!” he inquired in amazement. And then, a bit sheepishly, “Oh! (tee hee) I was standing on a rock.”
And now, if I don’t hurry to bed, I will have a frightful collision with myself getting back up again.
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