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I have never eaten a mango so I decided to buy one today.  I have no idea what will happen to the mango.  It could be eaten or it could just sit on my counter for a while.  Sometimes I get ideas but I don’t always follow through.  I am not afraid of the mango, but rather unprepared for what the mango experience may be like.  Will it be sweet and juicy?  Will it be hard and bitter?  Will it be a combination of both, sweet and juicy in parts and hard and bitter in others?  It is just the unknown.  For now the mango sits pleasantly on my counter, ripening.  I don’t really know exactly when it will be ripe, but I imagine somewhere between where it is today and squashed.

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Ode to a germ

Why, why, why will this cold not let go of me?

Please dear cold germs, leave my body and find a new host. You have worn out your welcome within me and now I must demand that you leave at once and not return (forever if possible but for at least a long duration). Thank you for your attention dear germs now commence with the packing and the getting.

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*Note-this story is pre-liberal, progressive Vermont.  Raccoons are now safe here in all of the wildlife habitats and lack of hunting lands.  Now they just enjoy snacking in my trash cans each night during the summer without fear of being made into clothing.*

My aunt shared a story with me about my dad and uncle pinning a squirrel skin to their wall as decor.  It reminded me of my first gift from a boy when I was in the first grade.

His name was Mike and he had blonde hair and blue eyes.  He was the cutest seven-year old on the playground.  We were smitten and played on the jungle gym together everyday during recess.  One day he brought me a gift.  It was a raccoon skin cap that he had shot, skinned and made himself.  It even had the tail!  He didn’t do the best job with it and it smelled horrible but I was in love so I stuck it in the bottom drawer of my dresser.  I even wore it a few times.  Hey, when a rodent loses his life in the name of love you wear it on your head! 

I kept that hat for just about forever.  Well at least until the next boy declared his love for me and offered me a rodent free gift.   I kinda wish I still had it.  It probably wouldn’t smell anymore and not only would it be a fashion statement but quite a conversation starter.  Mike, I have no idea where life has taken you but I sure hope if you got married your wife likes varmint.

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Oh What a Week…

In the past week the Giant had the stomach bug,  there was a Pinewood Derby, a St. Patty’s Day celebration and more illness.  Phew.

  Friday Jake and Bella participated in the AWANA Pinewood Derby.  Jake took second place for speed.  Bella was a really good sport about not winning any awards and cheering on her fellow racers.   It was a good night.

Saturday we finally celebrated St. Patrick’s Day with brisket, cabbage, carrots, pot roast, potatoes,  and Irish soda bread.  It was so delicious and makes me thankful I married a man with a little Irish heritage.  Another good night.

Sunday we made it to church with some out of sorts littles but by the afternoon the kids were back to complaining that they didn’t feel well.  By Sunday night we had a sore throat and an earache.   Not such a good night.

 I braced for the storm that seemed to be brewing but yesterday everything seemed to be at a status quo.  A not so bad night.

I thought perhaps we had escaped a rehash of last weeks stomach bug but alas it was not meant to be.  Bella, Jake and Bug all woke up feeling like their stomachs were flipping.  Bella was the first to go down and the other two are hanging on by a tiny little thread.  I fear a long night lay ahead of me.  I think I will take a nap.

UGH I hate weeks like this.  I am not my best this week either for more reasons than I care to count.  My poor babies.  I hate to see my kids sick.  Summer is almost here right?

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Brotherly Love-

One summer my boys were playing in the backyard when I hear these terrible noises coming from Jake who was just barely a preschooler at the time.  I look out and see Jake lying in the grass, moaning and groaning but he doesn’t appear hurt.  I go outside to see the older boys behind the shed goading him on with “Lie still, keep making dying cow noises.”  The baby lies back down and continues doing his best impression of a dying cow.  I slink over to the older boys to find out what could possibly be going on.  They point up and over head there are turkey vultures flying around looking to scavenge.  My older boys thought it would be great fun to put their baby brother on the lawn as “bait” and wait for one to come down and try to eat him and they would catch it.  I let them continue since Jake wasn’t really convincing enough as a dying cow for me to worry about him being carried away by turkey vultures. Although in hindsight it might not have been good parenting to really allow the boys to think I approved of their using their baby brother as bait.  Hmm this could explain a few other stories…

Can You Hear Me Now?-

So before the two littles arrived we gave the older boys walkie/talkie headphones.  They were so excited and could barely contain themselves as they waited for us to put batteries in them.  The next thing we see is Bug and the Giant running down the sidewalk, side by side, headphones on yelling, “Hey, can you hear me?”  “Yeah, I can hear you, can you hear me?”  They grinned big brotherly grins and gave each other the thumbs up as they continued their conversation.  Sigh

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A picture of Penelope from last year’s St. Patty’s Day.  We will be celebrating Saturday.  I have no idea how she will celebrate this year.

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I am a Failure

Ok so I am being dramatic but I feel like a failure.  I had to rip out the Inishturk sweater to completely start over and then I had to rip out the start over.   ARGH  The first time I understood.  I wasn’t used to cabling and I struggled with neat stitches.  It just looked sloppy and messy.  If I am going to spend this much time on something I want it to look decent.  This time it was an issue of my apparently purling when I should have knit.  Halfway through I was looking at my work ( neater stitches, more attention to detail, I was feeling pretty good) I noticed that one of the cables looked horrible.  It turned out that I must have missed a row somewhere and my purls were front and center and my knits were to the back.  It was blatantly obvious and I could not hide it at all. So I ripped it all out and started looking today for other patterns that use Fisherman’s Wool !   No, I will eventually take this project back up but I need a break from it.  I am having nightmares about knitting, purling, and cables.

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