In a Trench...

Digging for worms

Little Buddy's Special "Camera" Smile

Rain boots double as mud boots

Bubbles

Be vewwy, vewwy quiet...I'm hunting wabbits!

Somehow the firefly fascination has evolved into curiosity about larger, furrier creatures. Big Sissy has now gotten Little Sissy excited about helping her catch a rabbit. It started after she found out that rabbits often live in holes in the ground. The next thing I know she is out in the yard with a plastic spoon, trying to dig a hole and find a rabbit. I told her that she was more likely to find one in the woods behind our house. She chomped at the bit until I would finally let her go look--under one condition: that she go change into jeans and put on socks. I'm positive there is poison ivy lurking in the uncharted territory of the easement behind our house. Promising to change clothes, the girls ran into their room and came out looking like this:

The mittens are to protect their hands from the sharp rabbit paws, and the glasses are to keep the rabbit from scratching their eyes out when they try to get away.

Ready, set, let's go hunt for rabbits!

There's a hole in the ground. I think we're getting close.

Here, rabbit rabbit!

No luck yet. Maybe tomorrow's hunt will prove more successful.

Being A Pentecostal Girl in the 80's

I was flipping through a catalog from a children's boutique called "chasing fireflies." It caught my eye because, well, that's what my girls have been doing for the past 2 months. There were some cuuuuuute clothes in there, but one thing struck me as particularly funny: a silk dress with silk gauchos (which were $88 by themselves). Now, I have had PLENTY of gauchos in my time, and they were never silk. I can't even figure out where you would wear such a thing. Very cute, though, if you had the right occasion!

My gauchos weren't silk, but here are some of the fancy things I wore as a Pentecostal girl in the 80's:

* gaucho dresses. every color. every pattern. and always a scrunchie to match.

* black Cyndi Lauper earrings hanging on my fluorescent pink dress, because of course I didn't have my ears pierced.

* t-shirt dresses. two oversized t-shirts sewn together (the bottom one missing the neck and sleeve holes) to make a duo-tone dress.

* lots of stark white pantyhose, or worse, colored pantyhose with white shoes.

* vaseline on my eyelashes and lips to look like makeup.

* hair tucked in my collar, pulled out just right so it looked like my hair was cut.

* cheap plastic gold rings in my ears (you know the things that people used to put around wedding bulletins) to look like earrings

I guess every girl wants to be fancy sometimes. It will be interesting to see what my girls do to express their style. So far Big Sissy could care less about clothes or fashion. She just wants to be comfortable while she explores. Little Sissy, on the other hand, wants to be pink and sparkly all the time and prefers to sit inside where there is no heat or bugs. Reminds me of 2 other sisters I know...

Technology is Not Always Better

I supposedly have predictive text on my phone, but it doesn't ever know what I want to say. Just now I tried to tell my sister I have chicken salad and corn on cob, but I told her instead that I have children salad and corn on bob. Sounds a little macabre. mhwaaa haaaa haaa haaa.

I think I would like all these new gadgets that you, my friends, tell me about. Maybe someday when I have an income to spend and a private tutor to teach me how to use them I will get caught up. For now, here are some of my own definitions:

bluetooth: what my grandma always gets on her dentures when she chews blue gum

iPhone: what iDo when I've wasted too much time trying to text

blackberry: the only thing I have planted in my yard right now.

mp3: what I could use more of with my children--my privacy, my pride, and my patience

smart phone: what they created to make up for dumb users

PDA: One of the top 10 "no no's" at youth camp: public display of affection

twitter: somehow related to the little birdie with the yellow bill, but I'm not sure how

lol: lots of love

<3: I just figured out this didn't mean "less than 3."

instant message: what you have to leave if you ever try to call my home phone

flat screen: what's about to become of my big "ole" television since everything is digital and I don't get any channels any more.

flash drive: what the women in my family do when they try to change their clothes on their way to work

laptop: where my children sit to cuddle with me

It's not so bad, you know--talking to people the old-fashioned way. At least I still remember how to spell words and where to put punctuation--mostly. I'm afraid it is all slipping away for the next generation. But I still feel like I need to hurry and catch up before I lose touch completely and embarrass my children. So 4 now, ttyl, my bff's. lol.

Some Things Run in the Family

I couldn't have been more proud of Big Sissy this weekend. She was not scared to try anything. I wish I had a morsel of her courage and confidence. She swam in the lake, rode on the zip sled, went tubing, and even skiied with Mr. B. As if that were not enough, she found her first lizard, frog, snail, and clam. Fireflies are so last month now.

The B family has passed along the "fancy tricks" gene to their offspring.

The Brimms may have inadvertently passed along a little "fear of the water" gene to Little Sissy.

But she and Daddy both conquered their fears, at least for a few minutes to get a picture.

Water Skiing Lessons

My first experience water skiing was about 11 years ago. My bff called and asked if I wanted to go with her and her father-in-law to Carlyle Lake. He had a boat, and was always looking for a reason to get out on the water. I was single and apparently had time to spare, and I'm always looking for fun times. BFF's husband had to work, so it was just the 3 of us--a little awkward since I'd only met her father-in-law a couple of times. So he drove the boat, bff sat in the boat since she was pregnant, and I naively jumped into the water and attempted to figure out what the heck I was supposed to do. In a few minutes I found out how water skiing works: you strap on the clown shoes, you squat and wait for the engine to rev, then you get dragged by one foot through dirty water while sputtering and gasping for air. I was satisfied with my experience--you can't enjoy everything, right?

Well...this past weekend we went to the lake with our dear friends from church. Determined not to be a chicken (and trying to be a good example for Little Sissy, who is scared of everything), I decided to try again. Mr. and Mrs. B gave me some lessons before I went out.

First, you hold your arms straight and let the boat pull you up like this.

Once you're comfortable and have been doing that for a while, you can tuck the handle behind your legs...

and ski with no hands...

or with just one hand.

When that becomes dull, just take one ski off...

and try balancing it on your arms while you ski on one foot.

OK, I'm ready. So I just strap my feet in and wait for the boat to pull me up, right?

Ummm...what happened to that part about letting the boat pull me up?

I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to have the skis in my hands, right?

Take 2. Maybe I'll try again in another 10 years or so.

But just for the record, I went tubing for the 2nd time in a month and I wasn't even scared this time.