Regional Fun

Although most of Hubby's family lives in NH, my siblings and father are spread far and wide across the country. I have regular contact with two sisters and a brother, living in Atlanta and Dallas.

These are warm states. States that don't get NY style blizzards. States where the swim season will last more than a month. States where they rarely buy winter coats for their children.

And they like to remind me, in about January, how nice and warm it is in their states. I love the cold weather but I will admit it sometimes sounds pretty sweet, after scraping thick ice off the car windshield for the fifth day in a row. And when I'm stocking up on food with ten million of my neighbors because the forecast calls for another big blanket of snow.

But this time of year I cannot be distracted by the merits of living in a warm state. And I can tell you why with just one word...

Leaves.

I know many people see work, hours of back aching work, when they see a yard full of leaves. But we have children. We have children old enough to use rakes. And they have friends. And if we play the old Tom Sawyer card, we can usually get a few extra helpers involved, free of charge.

I love that my kids will have memories of sledding and snow angels. But I also treasure days like the past week, where we have raked up the same pile of leaves over and over again, and jumped in it, over and over again.

Baby boy has hidden in them and called to the dog to come find him. He has become hard core this year, pulling out the safety glasses and wearing a belt to keep itchy leaf particles out of his pants.

We are far from done with the entire yard. But the part we have done, we have done over and over. It is a joy some children never get to experience. Not because they are economically challenged. Not because their parents don't care.

Mainly because they will be swimming in their backyard pools in December. Just about the time my kids are breaking out the sleds.

Another Birthday

It has been awhile since I posted and things have been crazy around here but I cannot let today slip by without posting about my baby boy. Eight years ago today he left my body. All ten and a half pounds of his cute chubby self.

I was very aware he was my last. Through the whole pregnancy I rubbed my belly and talked to that baby knowing it was the last time my body would nurture a new person internally. As uncomfortable as I was at the end of that nine month journey, there was still a touch of sadness that our exclusive time together was over.

And now, with the snap of my fingers, it is eight years later. This boy has moved three times in his short life, and lived in four states. He has seen a big chunk of the monuments and scenery across this great country.

Not that he'll remember any of it. If he is anything like me, his true memory will begin about this year. And he will tell his life story like this - "We moved around a lot when I was a baby but I grew up in New York."

We celebrated last weekend, when grammy and grandpa were in town from NH (and a super aunt and uncle too) and we celebrated today by taking cupcakes to school. We will have our own little family celebration tomorrow night when all the siblings are home. And then we will move on.

My baby is now eight. He is not a 'little guy' anymore. He is barely letting me continue to read picture books to him at night. We are in a new era in our household. A decade of 'big kids'.

It's all enough to make this mom a bit nostalgic on this special night. On the day my baby turned eight.

Signs of Autumn

Okay, so is there anything more relaxing (and itchy) than laying in a bed of leaves with your next door friend and plotting your next seven year old adventure?

I'm wondering if I could bond more with my friends if we did this more often.

Then again, I can't imagine how relaxing it would be, considering I'd probably get leaf shavings in my Pepsi and/or my underwear.

I'll keep my plastic Adirondack chair for now.

Welcome Autumn. I love your cool temperatures and your bright colors. Hang around awhile so we can play outside just a bit longer, before that good ole snow and ice makes us break out coats and boots again.

And Another...

Fair Warning: This child knows where the hedge clippers are stored.

And he knows how to use them.

Do not, under any circumstances, deny him Halloween candy if he shows up at your door.

I can't be responsible for the consequences.

And Another...

This picture is from two years ago but the scene was the same this morning, just with taller kids.

I love looking out the window and seeing the new sunshine, lighting up the turning leaves.

Nothing says autumn like colored leaves and kids climbing on school buses in the morning.

Except maybe stomach aches from eating too many of those yummy candy corn and candy pumpkins with painted on stems.

And Another...

The spider family that lives in our front fence has been oh so helpful by supplying real live Halloween decorations for us.

Now to convince the neighbor kids that it is not dangerous to open our gate. I am sure the spider family has moved on.

If we're lucky the snake family will show up next.

Crop Discounts

This field sits on one corner of a very busy intersection in our tiny little town. On busy days I pass by it several times a day, as do most of my neighbors.

So I wondered, way back in June, what would happen to the billboards that sit right behind this field. They are very effective nine months out of the year. We all spend many minutes, that feel like hours, waiting for that light to change, memorizing the latest ads on the big boards.

But then the farmer came with his tractor. He turned over the soil. He planted some seeds. And the corn started to grow.

Through a wet summer the crop took off and the billboard slowly disappeared. For awhile we could still see 2/3 of it. Then just half. Recently it has almost entirely evaporated from view.

So I am left to wonder....are the advertising rates on these billboards pro-rated? Does the price go down as the corn grows up? Does the bill totally disappear when the billboard does?

Lucky for the advertisers, most of us had committed their messages to memory way back in the early summer. There is not much to look at while sitting at that light.

I count it as a kind of autumn blessing, that our view went from commercial advertising to peaceful farm corn.

I plan to enjoy it for now. Because some day very soon, farmer will be back with his tractor and his harvesting equipment, and the advertisers will pay full price again.