So we did have some very beautiful and perfect autumn days, and Praise God for those! The babes had a glorious time running around and enjoying the leaves that had been falling in our yard. Actually, the yard was carpeted with leaves! Iain is always amazing us with his memory of things, and as I got out the rake, he was talking to me all about leaf piles and jumping. Fiona was just a small nut last year, so this was her first experience with piles of leaves and she was timorous in her attempts to experience the full joy of jumping and rolling in leaves like her older brother. She tries desperately to be just like him, but the itchy, sticky, stinky leaves were too beneath her. Iain was quick to grab a broom to help out with the leaves, but the real chore was being saved for when Husband was home to offer the physical strength needed to complete the project. At points, the leaf raking seems futile with the cascade of leaves still dropping from the treetop.The flowering crab tree is called Prairie Fire.
We didn't know what that meant until we saw the leaves.
We didn't know what that meant until we saw the leaves.
Today, I was happy to report almost a completely naked tree, so this should be our 2nd and last weekend to rake the yard. Oh wait! We will probably have another weekend, but it will be because of our neighbors and their poor work ethic. Husband is always cursing "Communists!" under his breath while we are raking huge Sycamore leaves, which hail from two houses North, and jamming their yard excrement into our purchased lawn bags. I grew up in a truly Communistic city, so the idea of bagging leaves seems ridiculous to me when we know that there are city leaf-sucker-uppers that just come and suck in all of the leaves each week for those who rake their leaves into nice piles along the curbside. I am sure the garbage fees are more money over there, but the convenience factor is almost worth it! Except for those people who don't have leaves to be raked; they would definitely feel that we are all Communists.Iain already takes good photosAnd he is peddling away! This is so cool to not have to be pushed by Mama anymore.
With the earlier nights setting in, we are using our Netflix account to its fullest advantage. Jake decided that he was bored to tears with my repertoire of films (I don't even know where I hear about some of these films, but the queue has been established months in advance when I go through and just click everything, AND THEN I am totally surprised to find something I wasn't expecting in the mail box. Part of our film education.) so he went through the queue and has updated to reflect his taste in movies. So every other one in the mail is something that Husband has ordered. *Rolls eyes* I am all about sharing and watching what he watches, but I can't stand some of these films!! We got Transformers II last weekend. *gag* I started watching with him, since I had been forced to watch the first Transformer movies, and made myself scarce when he was watching some huge boxed set of Transformer cartoons after Christmas last year. There were about six DVDs worth of episodes and it seemed as though he would never get done with watching those. So I patiently sat and started to watch this horrible film about mutating machines that are (apparently) part alien as well as part machine that can morph into different pieces of equipment on planet earth, but they are (of course) secretly trying to take over the world. *Knit, purl, knit, knit...* This time, there is some human that might have accidentally touched some sort of Kryptonite that is allowing him to...OK it was ridiculous. I give it a huge capital F with boogers on the side, and yes, I did not finish watching the film because it was erasing important brain cells that I need for the rest of my life.
Moving on! Husband really "owed" me a serious chic flick for the 40 minutes that I watched of Transformers, so it was a good idea that he told The Proposal to come in the mail next. The only bad thing about this form of revenge is that Husband, secretively or not, enjoys chick flicks!! It was a great little film, and the only part of it that is similar to our own story is that I was Husband's "boss" when we met. Sandra Bullock needs Ryan Reynolds to marry her so that she won't loose her fabulous editor job to be deported back to Canada. Husband knew the landscape of most of the film taking place in Sitka, Alaska, where he was taken on some of those seriously spoiling cruise trip vacations as a child. There were some parts in the film that were a bit of a stretch, but overall it was a good giggle of a film and worth the rent. I would give it a solid B.
Iain and Fiona have been frequently asking to watch Olivia "the pig show." Olivia is an adorable pig that walks on her back legs and has a younger brother named Iain. Everything in the two little episodes we have is so mild and appropriate, however, my little Iain has started to pick up on little things in "shows." My heart was shattered when he asked for a kiss goodnight the other night, and proceeded to say, "YUCK!" and wipe his hand across his face. Where would he have picked this up? Then I remembered that when the Grandma pig comes for a visit, she kisses Iain and he decides he is too old for kisses so says, "Yuck!" after the kiss and wipes his snout. *sigh* It happened again today when tucking down for a nap.
WHAAAAA?!!! We freaked out simultaneously, and rushed in to turn off the boob tube. We had just turned it on, not two minutes before the tofu propaganda, so there was great confusion amongst the small fry and so we danced about eating chicken embryos, dead cows, and dead chickens, fish, shrimp, fish...you get the idea...but followed up with "TOFU IS POISON!" OH yeah! We felt empowered trying to undo the garbage on public television, and we are trying to ween the TV more each day and stick to a movie. They seem to love anything with pigs, so it was Charlotte's Web that they chose yesterday, and even though there is a plethora of immense words and extensive vocabulary in that film, we have the vegetarian pig who is desperately afraid of becoming morning bacon.
On a completely unrelated note, but again using this space to document, Husband was on a walk with the babes the other night while I was being converted into a cosmetic genius. The moon became hidden behind some clouds and Iain exclaimed, "HEY! A moon go?" Husband had to tell him that it was behind some clouds and would come out again, but I could only picture this perfectly crisp and quiet autumn evening, with the babes all tucked into the stroller and all of a sudden "HEY! A moon go?" like, Hey! who hit the lights?