Friday, July 29, 2016

Story Time :: Two Hundred Eleven

The third book in the series, a story so compelling even Mister Foo is riveted.

Summer's heat has moved in.

We clamped tulle to the front door, now a breeze of relief makes the entry the most comfortable spot in the house.

While listening to the story, Maria's loose tooth came out, her third this summer.

Max took a math placement test, now he's registered for all of his classes.

We were at the beach, again, Tuesday night.

Our dinner plates have been slowly ridding themselves... breaks, chips, etc. We've had them since 1999, and recently I resolved to find their replacements. Usually these things can take me a while. Like a year, or four. But Maria and I fell in gaga (a silly and happy state of affection for pretty things) with some that have sprays of blue flowers and lime green vines and tendrils. The whole plate acquiring process became a consumer saga, complete with multiple store and location visits, some creative mixing and matching, and eventual absolute gaga-ness. As happens, this also inspired cabinet dusting, dish purging, reorganizing, and glancing at other parts of the kitchen with critical eyes. Never underestimate the lure and temptations of embracing new colors to prompt further improvements, and updates.

Alex and Maria were watching cob-oven making tutorials, then they played in the side yard, experimenting with our soil and clay.

If we don't make a cob-oven, we will more than likely build a forge. Geoff and Alex's blacksmithing classes have confirmed their gaga-ness for striking hot metal.

This post might not be so long, nor so random, expect that there is a fan in the office, and I am loathe to get up, fold laundry, sort mail.

Also, today is Thursday, and I am writing all of this for tomorrow. If any bloggers have read this far, they will appreciate how nice it is to be able to compose posts for later publication.

I found our fig tree, Fiona, full of ripe fruit. Maria and I ate quite few.

Happy Friday, friends. I hope you have a comfortable spot, where you are reading or enjoying fresh fruit, where you have welcome company, inspired thoughts, and something to feel gaga for.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.


cyndywehr said...

Love that top picture - Mr. Foo is mesmerized for sure. Try your figs on some fresh bread drizzled with honey.

Adaliza said...

Gaga - it means something different for me - it was my name for my granddad. And, the one my father is known by to my children. We don't really pronounce the first 'a' sound like Lady GAga but tend to just make the soft 'g' sounds together with a soft 'a' at the end! My Gaga was super cool - he didn't need any fans; my children's Gaga is quite GAga - or at least he was in his younger days. I want to see your new plates - I bought red and white spotty ones for my new kitchen (which is blue) - as you do!!! Happy Days - enjoy the weekend. Ax