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Race Day

I only took this picture of Molly because of that blonde nest of morning hair.  She was making her own pancakes before we went training for the Old Settlers mile race.  I didn't realize until afterwards how far she can arch her belly and butt out.  

She usually stopped to walk at the half mile point and ran/walked the rest of the mile.

 The final training day before the race, we went to the school track.  After one lap, she laid down on the track.  After 2, she noticed other people washing school windows and wanted to hide behind the bleachers.  But in 14 minutes, she finished the mile.

I was beginning to worry.

I wanted to take her photo at the starting line on race day, but she was embarrassed and wanted to stay between the cars in the parking lot.

The race was a combination of people running both the mile and 5k.  

There were only about 5 people running the mile and that included a dog.

When the race started, Molly cried.  Claiming she didn't know where to go through her tears.

I held her hand and told her I'd stay with her.  We walked.

Eventually she started to trot, before she finally let go of my hand and we ran.

This was the moment I wished I had wore tennis shoes and a sports bra.

I felt like such a bandit.

We starting turning corners (taking them short, of course) and eventually passed the other mile racers.  She wanted to stop, but I whispered she was in 1st place and if she stopped, she'd be passed.  We made it to the finish line before they had a chance to get the finish line tape up.

It's a REALLY small town.

She won a 30 minute pass to Get Air in Des Moines.  She wondered why there weren't any trophies.  I told her G'funk would be glad, those trophies are just 'dust collectors' anyway.

Open Class Pet Class

We did it.  I secretly knew we could.  

2 years ago we sat at the Madison County Fair and watched an open class pet show.  

It was the same day we watched a cat show and a girl asked if we wanted to hold her cat.  The cat's kennel/carrier had a huge turd sitting in it.  We looked at her, the turd, then back at her before saying, 'no thank you'.  It's one of those moments that always circles back around in conversation.

But at the 2016 pet show, we just knew Goose could win this thing.  

So 2 years later, we filled a tupperware of water and I baked a batch of his favorite treats (with the addition of extra bacon grease AND crunchy peanut butter) before entering our Goose.  

We had this contest in the bag.

Until a baby goat named Ellie May walked in.  

Damn it.  

He was obsessed with sniffing her butt hole.

But only until someone took their pet rooster out of a pet carrier.  No, seriously, a ROOSTER.  It's name was Prissy and it wore a purple apron.

Goose and I went for a walk.

Yet Ellie May and Prissy weren't our biggest issue.  Our concern was a grey cat being removed from it's carrier by a young girl.  I swear the cat was giving Goose the stink eye as Goose went from curious to attack mode in a blink.  

We went on another walk.

Eventually it was Goose's turn to take the stage.  Goose's eyes were locked on that stinkin' cat the whole time.  I'm sure the cat called Goose a name in pet language and Goose went berserk.  No amount of peanut butter/bacon treats were going distract this hunt.  Soon Goose slid off the stage barking at the little girl and her cat.  In some strange adrenaline rush, I scooped Goose up like a toddler and placed him back on stage.

Ross got his body turned around and was able to demonstrate some of his tricks for the audience.  Awards couldn't come soon enough and Goose won the award for best trick. 

As soon as the award was passed out, the grey cat escaped.  

Thank God, Goose didn't notice and the cat was eventually captured by it's owners.

We headed home relieved there wasn't a bloody massacre to apologize for.

Goose was exhausted.  I was exhausted.

But we did it.  I knew we would.

Same Person?

There's always been some debate as to whether Maisie looks more like Mike or myself.  

Apparently Google Photos casted their vote.  

I'm guessing it had nothing to do with the bang situation.

Mid- July Juice

When it comes to libraries, I've always felt a spiritual connection.  Even back in Long Grove, I remember the side door into the basement of the Civic Center opened into a walk-in closet sized gallery of possibilities.  Lets just say, it was my 'Target' back in 1989.  Not because of the books though.  I'd already read every R.L. Stine book on the market, but because they sold expired 'Teen' and 'Seventeen' magazines for 10 cents.  Thank goodness for my babysitting gig, because I'm pretty sure my make-up attempts and hairdo's would have been hysterical had it not been for the DIY beauty sections in my newly purchased magazines.

The Winterset library is nothing short of a 'home-away-from-home'.  True to each of my favorite libraries, it opens the door to a world of unknowns, the latest magazines for wherever my latest interest lies, libraries who know me by name and a bathroom... no need for explanation for those who know me well.

I took the 3 littles to the library last week and discovered how different they are from one another.

This is Maisie. 

Reading a book at the library. 

This is Jay. 

Finally get a chance to play on the library computers.

And this is Molly.

AKA: her fathers daughter. 

She's checking the locks on each of the chairs.

Meanwhile, this little snugglebug is finding his way into my bed through the night.  

I don't know ( nor do I ask) why.  

I don't usually know (nor do I ask) when. 

Because it really doesn't really matter.

He knows he's safe and loved.  

That is all.

Did I have to pee?  Yep.

Did my back hurt laying flat?  Yep.

Did I crop out my morning face and hair?  Yep.

But did I lay there with him until he woke on his own?  Yep

This is one of my 'priceless luxuries'.

In other news, this gorgeous girl and I had an Olive Garden date this week. Times have changed at Olive Garden!  They have ordering and paying Ipads (probably called something more techy) attached to each table.  AND, they sell cotton candy drinks.  WHAT???

This week Mack celebrated his 15th birthday.  (I should say, 'we' celebrated his birthday).  He's 15.  It's awkward and weird.  Mike and I took him to dinner.  It was good, but again he's 15.  I'll share more in a separate post.  

I can't imagine what goes though his mind.  All I know is I love him.

And last but not least this week was twinsy week for my girls.  Matching jumpers, matching braids, matching meals and popcorn from the hardware store, etc...ect…

I'm kinda jealous.

Sweet Slow Summer

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been asked if I'm teaching this summer.  

I feel a little apologetic each time I respond, 'Goodness no, my hands are full'.  

And I can't help but appreciate the slow-paced, busy summer I'm in the midst of...

Helping Molly train for her first mile race later this month.  We're not trying to kill ourselves, just taking it easy on run to Maddie's mailbox and back.  I've been teaching her to 'lean into' a hill, pace herself, look straight ahead, pump her arms and finish strong.

 I've started a workworking project and had an abundance of assistance from my sidekick in the purple satin nightgown.  I showed her how to determine the right screwdriver size and shape, the life skill of righty tighty/lefty loosey, how to use a palm sander and the importance of keeping all the hardware in one place.

There were days... years actually, when I stressed about keeping the house clean, unmarked, organized and controlled. 

Something in me shifted this summer and I've  decided riding roller blades in the house isn't really gonna hurt anything.

And when it's hot and you need to cool down, it's refreshing to plop yourself in the dog water bucket.

And as long as you don't see water spiders, coon poop or snakes, the city pool is no match for the nearest pond.

So in a way, I've put aside teaching classes this summer to make time for what I love most.  

Teaching my people to slow down, to take a breath that fills their lungs, to find something they love doing, to always trust God, to appreciate small simple pleasures, and to laugh out loud..

4th of July 2018

Last weekend we packed up Olaf the van with swimsuits, bows and arrows, gift bags and grocery sacks acted as luggage, cameras, chargers, a mermaid tail blanket, a brown stained white rag named nigh-nigh and a purple hippo named, Hippo. Once again, we were headed to the Long Grove 4th of July Pond party.  20 minutes into the drive, Jay began asking, 'How much longer?'  The exit toward GG and Papa's house couldn't come soon enough.  

For all of us.

But as always, it was worth it.

The Slip 'n Slide was popular with everyone.

As were the inflatables.

Mike just couldn't resist.  If only he had remembered to pack his suit...

The sibling trio who proves how powerful genetics can be.

The Green boys' tender hearts were heaven-sent as they helped Jay in and out of the pond.

And when the slip n slide didn't seem quite fast enough, the jug of Dawn dish soap was introduced.

Molly mastered the zip-line this year.

While Ross got shooting pointers from Papa Green.

And it wouldn't be a Pond Party with out playdoh on the front porch.  There's just something extra fun about GG's playdoh tool box.

Yet in the end, it's more than just the abundant sunshine, the pond filled with toys, coolers upon coolers of drinks, casseroles cooking in the farmhouse oven, and endless conversations.  

It's witnessing and being a part of a tradition that will live in our hearts forever.

Until next year...