I guess this is what they mean by "seasons"

Preface: This blog post is about the weather. And given that there's no other point to this post, and I'm actually having an experience solely about weather and taking up your time to actually talk about it, you might need the reminder: I really am only 33 years old. With the exception of one person (who doesn't know who she is so I won't mention her name) I don't know anyone my age who talks about the weather. Weather seems to me to be a sort of generational topic of conversation. Or maybe it's simply because I'm on the beginning fringes of realizing that I've never really experienced weather. And now that I am, it's like super cool and important and blog worthy for me, when it's totally old news for everyone else. Like when I discovered that peanut butter and banana sandwiches are AMAZING in my late twenties and was raving about them to everyone only to meet the shoulder shrugging response, "You've never had one before?"


Annabelle had just gone to sleep for her afternoon nap, I had a glass of freshly made iced tea (knowing that it was autumn and wondering why isn't it warm outside?), a friendly little 63 page knitting advertisement magazine came in the mail and I was sitting in a chair in the living room perusing the goods they were peddling.

And then a bright flash of lightening lit up the living room followed one second later by the god-like boom of thunder that follows... loud enough that I couldn't tell if the house shook, or only my heart. A light drizzle turned into a downpour heavy enough to make me concerned about double checking the roof once it lets up- so I sat down here at the computer, realizing I hadn't checked the weather in a few weeks.

So I pull up our local weather report and sat, a little startled, at the ten day weather forecast listing Showers or Heavy Showers for next week and a half. Oh.

Okay, so it's no surprise, right? Not supposed to be anyway, I DO live in Oregon now, and if they are famous for anything, it's rain. But geeze! It's only September and we've been having to turn on the heat every night for three weeks already. Where is that Indian Summer?

Um, well, Allysun, that Indian Summer is in California.

And someone told me today that this winter "is going to be a cold one!" and I left her porch to walk home wondering exactly how cold she might mean, because already my two pairs of jeans, handful of sweatshirts and knitted hats are proving to be wholly inadequate. For my birthday I got closed-toe shoes, with the idea that I would need them for the winter. Even then, at the end of August, I wondered if I would actually wear them. My flip flops really seem to do so well most of the time. But, lo and behold, I wear those closed toe shoes every day now and lament over the fact that I only own two pairs of knee high socks. (Which has me on a diligent hunt for a beginning sock knitting pattern, mind you.)

So, back to our little thunder storm: I walked around the house and noticed outside the mudroom the water was literally pouring down the windows as if someone was holding a hose to it. So I dashed outside just long enough to get wet and cold and take note that someone didn't check the rain gutters and they are now clogged and water is just spilling over the side and running down the house.

And since *I* spent three hours cutting down low tree limbs with our new pole saw (Don't know what a pole saw is? Think of it as a long pole with a chainsaw balanced on the end.) I'll call that someone who needs to clean out the rain gutters Dave. Which I realize isn't completely fair, but the newness of homeownership has already proved to me that there are things I. Just. Can't. Do. Like crawling under the house, or catching a spider, or climbing on the roof. (There are lots of things I will do, like mastering the chainsaw, building bookshelves, sanding and painting the guestroom, and five or six loads of laundry every week.)

I've been talking a lot about all the blog posts I need to post, but since school started I can hardly keep up! So, I'll come around as much as I can, and catch up whenever possible.... any votes for the first catch up blog? Let me know, I do (occasionally!) take requests.

Oh WOW!!!

I think, I think... Annabelle has finally weaned herself! She hasn't nursed since Sunday!! And she has continued to take naps too!

Today was the first time she actually asked for it all week and, to be honest, I wasn't even sure how much milk would be there after not nursing her for four whole days. So when she asked for it today I told her that the milky was all gone and she cried for 5 or 6 seconds (more pouting than crying) and grabbed a book and said, "Read!" and then went to her bed while I told her another story till she fell asleep. She just gave in so easily at the very first suggestion! And it surprised me... I think she was ready. Sounds like she was ready, right?

I am elated! I did it!!

Maybe it's graphic, but I'm a mom and used to seeing it.

I have got a major back load of topics to blog about, but in between Dave working in Ireland for a week, my friend Lili (and her little boy) visiting in his absence, starting school, and the whole family catching a cold, one single thing took place that is very blog worthy and in need of acknowledgement.

Here, I'll let Annabelle point it out to you:

What makes this event so fantastic is that she shows no inclination to toilet train any time soon. Rarely does she communicate toilet needs or recent occurrences. She fights diaper changes. Though fascinated by toilet learning books, she seems to view them as something comical. We follow all the recommended tips, like going to the bathroom together, talking about it, and just plain waiting until she lets us know she's ready.

See? They say toileting together helps speed up the learning process:

But diaper rash problems have always been part of Annabelle's world and someone off-handedly commented that if Annabelle was toilet trained she wouldn't get diaper rash any more, so I've stepped up my efforts to move her in that direction. This "stepping up" doesn't really mean anything other than the fact that I talk about it a lot more and make her little potty more available.

Last night I walked into the bathroom and saw this:

Really. What would YOU do if you walked in and saw Groucho sitting there practicing using the BIG potty? She may be slow when it comes to toilet learning, but no one can deny she's got a great sense of humor!

Remembering :: Corona Del Mar

Luuuuuuuke.... Oooohhh, Luuuuuke! I'm over here behind the fence....

Where can he be?

Oh hi! Here, hold my hand! Go ahead, it's okay with my mom. Don't be shy.

Fine, don't hold my hand. Check out my belly instead. I can do amazing stuff with my belly button.

Kiss me quick, through the fence. Luuuuuuuukke! Kissy!

Come to mama...

Whoah. Wait a sec... is that SAND on your mouth?

I don't know mom. I can't explain it. She wanted me and then she didn't want me. I'm not even sure I really kissed her...

Home Improvement:: Building a bookshelf

After buying the materials and getting everything prepped, this project took me exactly two hours. I was so impressed with myself, particularly because I rarely work with wood and have never built anything before. Unless you count the tables I used to make as a child by tapping nails into the four corners of a square wood block and then flipping it over, the nails being the legs of the table.

I had a little help from this nice guy at the hardware store, but otherwise was completely on my own. It's so neat when a creative idea actually works out! I still need to prime and paint, but all nails are countersunk and caulked!