Twenty-Four

 

No school today. Country roads are impassible for buses.

Apparently its 29 degrees in Cancun. Not twenty-four, but twenty-nine.

In Niverville, it was warm enough to go for a walk. Probably the first walk since waaaay back in 2013.

It was incredibly sweet.

I made some plans for spring while I was out there. I might start by dealing with that wasp nest the foliage so cleverly disguised. After that, I might transplant the myriad of tiny trees growing in our eaves troughs. We loaned out our extension ladder a few years ago and it joined the circus, we surmise. So, this spring I'll have to get serious about borrowing a ladder, lest we unintentionally grow a green house that backs up all the rain water into Jane's bedroom closet.

 

One of the little darlings wanted to jump on the trampoline, which NO I DIDN"T GET PUT AWAY IN FALL DON"T JUDGE ME AND I'M NOT DEFENSIVE. She waded out into the yard (which has nearly swallowed the trampoline whole) and got herself stuck. I started out by laughing, until I realized that I was the paid professional who would have to wade in to rescue her. Sinking mid-thigh into snow numerous times led me to begin crawling through the yard in my superstore version of yoga pants. I don't do yoga, but some mornings, I just don't have the strength for the zipper deal.

 

Re-entering the house to the smell of fresh bread made my thighs swell in anticipation. I switched from wet stretchy pants to pajama pants. I mean- who am I kidding?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Micah was busy. Not at his computer. Not on his ipod.

Nope, his ipod was still somewhere in the wall between the ductwork and the drywall.

By hanging a tiny flashlight down the hole in his room (functional families would cover this sort of hole with a vent grill), mIcah was able to get a clue about some of the possible places the ipod may have landed. His marvelous father cut a hole in the drywall a floor below.

Micah disassembled a webcam and fastened the camera componant onto the end of straightened wire coat hanger (don't get rid of all of yours. They are invaluable.) He fed it into the hole, and with impressive persistence and about a jillion hours, he finally located the lost ipod. Brian cut another hole (cleverly later concealed by the baseboard) and voila! Ipod.

I was pleased with his ingenuity, his persistence, his focus.

I was pleased that Brian is not above cutting holes in our living room wall to help a boy out.

 

Twenty-four.

Today was 24 hours of reprieve. The house wasn't too loud. There were hardly any fights. Nothing pushed me too far. We got outdoors. There were even some birds singing.

Twenty-four. Twenty-four.

 

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