Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

I've been getting soft.  Not "soft" as in "nice."  Heavens, no.  Soft, as in "around the edges," as in, "I really need to workout more consistently."  Maybe then I'd also be able to claim "soft" as in "nice."  My workouts are getting noticeably sparse.  I've been getting noticeably cranky.  There is a definite correlation.   My workout partner is out sick.  I will blame her, it's what I do.  But the reality is, I'm not exercising on my own even when she isn't sick.  I've never been this lackadaisical.  I'm also blaming COVID.  There is nothing to train for.  Nothing to get excited about.  Usually, I train now to be in less pain later, but there isn't even that motivation.  COVID isn't really the problem, but it's a good scapegoat.  ( I think I'm getting lazy. Shhh.   )     However, the "soft" thing is getting me fired up.  My motivation is starting to kick in.  I got th

 We have had a day of it. I can't complain, it could have been a lot worse, but I am ready for bed and a fresh start tomorrow.  Ross was working on fixing the chimney so our woodstove stops filling our house with smoke.  It was a job he was prepared to swear his way through, but a friend was able to come and help and it wasn't raining, so he was staying pretty positive.  Just before his friend was set to arrive, we inventoried the pipe pieces. My parents picked them up for us while they were in Medford, saving us a lot of time and driving.  Not all of the pieces were there.  Ross called his friend to cancel their work date, right as the guy pulled up the driveway.  Still no swearing.  Ross called the woodstove shop, talked to a man, figured out what happened and left for Medford in the vehicle I usually drive.   On his way home, he broke down on the freeway.   We were grateful it was his day off, and we hadn't made any plans, it was a belt that he can fix himself, and it wa

It's been a week of Mondays with this crew.  It turns out they were just working on getting sick.  This is a blessed turn of events because I was beginning to think we were raising terrible humans, and military school isn't a viable option for four and six-year-olds.  Actually, they do enroll kindergarteners.  I checked.  But not locally. Maybe the whole world is getting sick.  Social media...seriously, whoa.  Luckily, we don't have television or tablets, and limited Internet access, so we mostly avoid it.  Speaking of no screens, the boys have to find more creative ways to fill their time.  The last two days they have been practicing avoiding being hit by falling trees.  They were mostly successful.  How about that for a sunny afternoon activity? Their other great pastime has been building bonfires and fire pits.  We now have so many burn piles around our house, I had to ban the building of any new ones.  Glory of glories, we finally had a burn day this week.  I thought I&

I know Facebook keeps track of web searches and "listens" in on conversations, but I'm wondering if there is also some kind of video surveillance?  I mean, one weekend of gorging on Muddy Buddies and suddenly my feed is full of plus-size advertisements.  Good-ness!   It was one indiscretion!  That's a lie, actually.  There have been many such indiscretions in the last few week...thirty-some-odd years.  Whatever.  In other news, the girls are biting each other now.  So that's fun.  Face biting.  Carter is at a disadvantage with a snaggletooth, but she has more weight to throw around.  Apparently, we are raising cage fighters.  Something to do with keeping them in baby prison most of the day, I don't know.  It seemed like a good idea to fence them in, but now I'm wondering.   As I continue sharing far too much information, one of our kids has been having issues with sneaky toots.  The toots aren't sneaky so much, but they bring unexpected baggage with th

I thought, or at least I had hoped I had grown up a little in the last twenty years.  Results are not looking good, my friends.  To put it in perspective, yesterday I learned I still have zero self-control with the Chex Muddy Buddies.  I know they are going to make me sick if I eat too many.  I know this is going to happen, and I keep putting them in my mouth.  I made a full eight cup batch yesterday, and if I'm doing the math correctly, that means I ate about...eight cups.  I hurt.  My stomach hurts.  My teeth hurt.  My self-respect is in complete shambles.  Twenty years older and same dang results as the last time...   I thought the adult me would have things together.  It turns out, the adult me is just a wrinklier, less fit version of the kid me.  What a freaking let down.   Boy, if I have figured out so little in the first almost forty years, God might need to give me the extended warranty.  I'm a slow learner.  I think "late bloomer" is another moniker I've

I'm pretty good at keeping things alive.  Unless it's pets or plants, those I tend to kill.  Nobody told me you can over-clean a Beta fish's bowl.  Poor little Brown Trout.  But aside from a few other short lived pets and every single house plant, I've done alright.   Our kids are all breathing because of me.  At least in part.  Sure, it takes two to make a human, but I grew them, so I'm taking a little more than half the credit.  Sometimes I have to remind them that I gave them life, and what's the Cosby Show   line? "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it!"  I jest.  But somedays....   Ross is breathing because of me too.  Literally.  I saved his life.  He owes me big time.   I haven't completely cashed in on that one yet.  I'm saving it for something good.  Although...."Babies are crying.  Somebody needs to check on them.  Remember that time I saved your life?".....How have I not used that?!  Stupid.  Stupid. 

We had a family work time last weekend.  It happened organically, but once it started, we made the boys stick it out to the end.  We moved and stacked several trailer loads of logs that Ross had split earlier this winter.  In the process, I learned a couple of things: our kids are starting to become useful humans, and they know way more about trees than I was even aware.  The second part of that is particularly shocking because they have been obsessed with logging and tree cutting for at least three years.   Both boys can identify all of our local tree species.  I knew that from walking through the woods with them.  I didn't know they could identify them by...smell.  We were stacking firewood that Ross will sell next year.  It was oak and madrone.  Mostly.  Apparently, there were a few pieces of fir in the mix.  I didn't know.  They were logs and missing branches and bark.  Sawyer stopped me from stacking a log and said it was fir.  "How do you know," I asked?  He sni

The Orley's Stove and Spa man may have just saved our marriage.   Let me back up a little and set the scene for you:   About two years ago Ross, the boys, and I started driving out to this property my parents bought.  It was their plan to fix up the house and flip it.  They needed some trees cleared around the place and asked Ross if he would be interested in the work.  The boys loved playing there, Ross enjoyed clearing the land, and I liked helping create brush piles that we would later burn.  Long story short, there were some zoning issues that came into play, the house didn't sell right away, and we wound up buying it for ourselves this past spring.   In clearing the underbrush, Ross had cut down dozens of trees.  All of the trees that made good firewood were neatly stacked on the property.  Then Ross bought a couple of truck loads of madrone and oak logs that he cut down to the length and size of firewood.  Needless to say, we now had a dozen or more cords of firewood on t

I think my eighteen-year-old self would have been embarrassed of me today, not that I care what teenagers think.  I can honestly say, I wouldn't have seen this coming: I got really excited about finally having the chance to clean under my oven.  It has been a longtime coming.  I almost sent my mom a text.  It felt nearly as good as changing the filter in the ceiling vent last week and replacing lightbulbs the week before.    In fact, I've been adulting like a boss this month.  I bought a dump truck load (literally) of gravel, wiped down baseboard, cleaned ceiling fans, called the dentist, and gathered a trailer load of junk for the dump.  Plus, all our bills got paid on time.  Look whose finally going to make the honor roll!   The TV shows of the 90s did nothing to prepare me for what adulthood was really like.  To be honest, I was watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman  so I guess I should have seen that coming.  But seriously, have you ever seen something so sexy as a clean windo

We are talking about school options again.  It's only February, but next year is already looming.  Last year we struggled like many parents to decide what the best "worst" option would be for our kindergartener's first year of school.  He struggles with change and transitions so we opted to homeschool in order to give him consistency.   I am not a homeschool teacher.  It is not my calling.  I have enjoyed having him home...some of the time.  It's fun to watch him learn, but also very frustrating.  I'm not patient.  He is very social and craves time with people who aren't me.  Can I also say, his personality is getting stranger by the minute?  I think he needs some peer "correction" or interaction or both.   You know how homeschool kids get a bad rap?  It's because of kids like him.  We love every bit of him, but....but just because you have listened to Little House on the Prairie eighteen times, it does not give you permission to call your p