Here at last, here at last...

Hello.

So one of the reasons I thought the time was ripe for me to blog is that we are having a basement dug under our house...and our contracter's name is Fidel. So I'm pretty sure everything is in place for an extemely messy adventure that will be worth writing about. For example, in typical contracter fashion, Fidel tells us he'll be here Monday...but he and his crew don't show up until Wednesday around noon. Then by 2:15 they've broken through a water line. But did we care about his tardiness or the little water leak? Don't be silly. We were still too giddy over the fact that he'd shown up at all! Oh, our dear Fidel! We already love him so!

As for the family news...Emily has not been herself lately. Last night she cooked supper for us...chicken fajitas, rotel, guacamole. Then she cleaned up the kitchen. Even David wondered aloud what might be wrong with her. Maybe she's just growing up...getting ready for being out on her own. Of course earlier this week, I sent her to the store for a head of lettuce and she came back with a head of cabbage. So I think I still have a few things to teach her before she heads off into the world.

Rachel asked me the other night what I thought my top three parenting skills were. She said she had to write a paper about someone she admires, and apparently she admires me...or at least my parenting skills. Which might have been flattering, except that she didn't know what those skills were that she admired. So then I had to think and think and think and think to come up with a list of things I might have done right. One thing I told her was that I was always brutally honest with her. Like when she showed me an "art" project in first grade...I would never just say, oh that's beautiful. I always said, hmm that's interesting. And just last night I demonstrated this parenting skill for her again...while she was practicing her violin. Apparently, I was wincing a lot. At least that's what she said, and I couldn't deny it...because, well...I had to be brutally honest with her, of course.

Planning (not to be confused with practicing) for the band continues to occupy David's thoughts and time. He seems to be leaning towards "The Happy Coconut Club" for the band name, which was what his little band of brothers in elementary school called themselves. And the other day he pondered aloud whether girls liked guitar players or piano players more. So I guess the project is moving right along.

As for Dave, he is spending more and more time in our backyard. It has long been his favorite place to while away the hours...tending to his beloved garden, his precious fruit trees, and his carefully stacked wood piles. But now the place has a new source of fascination. Because of Fidel of course...and his earth moving equipment and the giant hole being dug under our house. It's a veritable smorgasbord of fun for a man like Dave...and I'm fine with it as long as he leaves me out of it. But no. He wants me to go out there, climb down into the hole with him, and look at the fine footers on our house. Seriously. I mean it's like he doesn't know me at all.

I wish I had something interesting to report about me personally. But I have nothing. Unless you count the dream I had last night where I discovered that I'd packed far too many pens and pencils for an international flight. But I know some people don't like to hear about dreams.

And I haven't had lunch yet today...but I had two slices of leftover taco pizza for lunch yesterday.

Much love,

Shelley