Ngaire, handing me the tail of a toy snake: “Let’s all be curious.”
Me: “What does ‘curious’ mean?”
Ngaire: “It means holding a snake. Or a penguin.”

* * *

Our stuff arrived! Most of it, anyway. We are missing a few boxes, two lamps, and our bed frame. We have also acquired most of someone else’s bed (headboard, sides and some metally things), a box of kitchen stuff that isn’t ours, and a shelf or something that also doesn’t belong to us. Ah well. I’ve been happily doing laundry and dishes, and most of our stuff is settled in the house. I must say, it’s nice moving from a small place to a larger place, in terms of finding a home for everything with minimal trauma.

Yesterday and again today, I have exited my house only to have a small rainstorm open up on top of me, which disappears a few moments later (right after I’ve canceled all plans to go outside, because it’s raining). This makes me wonder whether I’ve managed to mildly annoy some minor rain deity.

Also, yesterday, I was changing Liam’s diaper, and he peed and hit himself in the eye.

Yesterday was the Husbandlet’s 30th birthday. Happy day after birthday, Husbandlet! I scored some frozen rhubarb from his boss’s wife (it grows like crazy around here; her parents PLOW IT INTO THE GROUND because they can’t harvest it all … I weep at the thought) and made rhubarb cornbread for breakfast and rhubarb cheesecake for his birthday cake. (The Husbandlet loves rhubarb, so I thought an Iron Chef, rhubarb-themed birthday would be fun.) I also got him some Weird Al CDs. We wound up the evening introducing Ngaire to Running with Scissors.

* * *

Apropos of that, Ngaire just came upstairs singing, “He left his home and kissed his mommy goodbye, saying, ‘Soon I’m going to be a Jedi.’” Then she came and gave me a kiss, and said, “Goodbye, Mommy.” I said, “Are you going to be a Jedi?” She said, “Soon.”

* * *

The only thing worse than finding cockroaches in the office? Finding BABY cockroaches in the office.

* * *

Apparently, today is National Popcorn Day, or something like that. Ngaire made a shaker out of a vitamin bottle filled with kernels at preschool yesterday. This morning, she and Liam emptied the whole thing all over the basement. Popcorn kernels are a lot harder to get out from the cracks under moldings than you might think.

* * *

We have harvested gallons and gallons and GALLONS of berries. We have frozen some, dried some, flavored homemade fruit leather (or “boo,” as Liam calls it, for some reason) with some, and made pie, crisp and juice. We feel like Real Frozen Northerners.

* * *

Now that the berry season is coming to an end, the Husbandlet has slowed down on checking satellite footage for the best places to go berrying around here (I’m serious!) and has begun a new obsession: Learning how to grow mushrooms at home. I do not say “obsession” lightly or inadvisedly. The man has to be pried away from his mushroom-related books and websites for even the most delightful of alternate activities. He is constantly coming out with abrupt sound bites about the ease of growing various species in various materials. (“Did you know that you can get ____________ to grow in coffee grounds/old phone books/your hair if you stand still long enough?”)

Let’s just say, I’m making sure to keep in constant motion.

* * *

On the other hand, “Pretty Fly for a Rabbi” is possibly one of the most wonderful songs ever, parody or no.

I have a confession to make: I kinda like Taco Bell. Every so often, I feel the urge to drop by and just see how it is doing, and partake of its bounty, before we go our separate ways. I will make it clear at the outset that the Husbandlet considers these visits highly illicit. However, they continue; though never in his presence. I wouldn’t say that my relationship with Taco Bell is anything but intermittent … certainly not in any way intimate.

So imagine my shock when I received this today:

I was equally taken aback when, upon opening the packet, I merely found hot sauce inside, instead of the two-carat Tiffany sparkler I’d had in mind.

Oh well, I guess I’ll keep these (and the guy who gave them to me, of course):

* * *

Any guesses about what happened here?