Short Break

Hi.  I'm back.  I've not been blogging at my normal frequency, because, um, life has intervened with some children folk requiring a lot of extra.  A lot of extra.  Despite the throbbing vein in my brow, I still like these little people, and hence, the courtesy blotting-out of names in the photograph to the left.  Yes, these are the scraps-as-reminders to Chad and I so that in the chaos of comings and goings during the days and nights we can keep straight which youngin' is in which sort of solitary confinement or media diet.  This loveliness flanked by holiday pumpkins to be carved sometime (nightly question of "When?" answered nightly with "Closer to Halloween so they don't rot!"), and soon-to-be over-ripe 'nanas, and an army of plastic cups -- an army, I tell ya.

Ah, BUT, I am feeling a little (a wee little) like there is some cause-effect beginning to take hold for some kiddos -- to a higher degree (or deeper level) than previously with this go 'round of teaching, modeling, reinforcing, consequencing, reteaching, re-modeling  .  .  .  (Knock on wood, dance a jig, say a prayer.)

And I did make the smart choice last weekend to put out the fall decorations despite having too much that "needs to be done."  Because, frankly, this year, I have not YET gotten caught up, let alone, ahead on any-thing.  Not any thing.  So, a bit of sanity by a trip to happy seasonal decor land and then back to endless piles or just the endless piles?  Eventually the answer becomes as plain as the butt on a goat.  (Are goats' butts plain?  I suppose.  Odd phrase.  Thanks, Mom, for embedding that idiom into the recesses of the part of my brain responsible for language.) 

And as mentioned in the previous "To Light" post -- last weekend was weatherific  .  .  .  AND that is something that makes me relax, even if momentarily.  Because my camera is stinky, I will make a lame attempt to compensate with quantity ; )

The view out the front door made me smile repeatedly as I ventured between the core of the house where the kid action is and my little office nook at the front of the home. 

My digital could NOT capture the warmth and the golden hues, nor the gentle breeze that kept the dried grasses waving and crunchy leaves cascading steadily to the ground.  I walked out into the front yard several times for no reason other than to soak it up bit by bit.

 In a few more days, this tree across the street (sugar maple) will be a RICH orange.  Every year it reminds me of our first weekend at this address  .  .  .  late October in an old neighborhood, with lots of friendly "grandmas" as neighbors (bearing hot coffee cake and waves from porches),

 and towering old trees to envelope us with color.

 Seriously tried to snap shots of leaves twirling and swirling down all around me.  And failed.

And 3rd grade science projects came home.  Jameson created the Port-au-Prince earthquake with plastic, giant-Lego-style blocks (and tape to hold the building remains in precarious stages of collapse and rubble).  He, however, dismantled his work before Mama could take a pic.  Hoarder Bay, however, STILL has her masterpeice in her upstairs "classroom," and a photo is always necessary insurance should the beloved object become the result of an accident and cease to exist in it's original, glorious state.  In case you didn't readily identify it, THIS is Mt. Vesuvius, of course.

In this entirely overwhelming week (I'll spare you from any images of the Mt. Vesuvius of dishes in and around the area where I believe we still have a kitchen sink) I'm trying to call upon the happy place of crisp autumnal bliss, and hoping my desk at school doesn't erupt.