Tuesday, July 3, 2007

The Leavetaking...

Today is the Leavetaking of Mark's Nativity, i.e. my birthday. It was suggested that we celebrate the octave but I think we'll just call it a septave, and leave it at that.

Yesterday LMark brought in a little car from the outside covered in sand and old brown grass-clippings. He rode it all through the kitchen, hall, foyer, den, and living room, leaving a trail behind. Max wanted to ride it this morning but LMark put up a fuss and tried to tear it away from him. They had a pulling match and proceeded to get all the remaing clippings all over the newly mopped kitchen. Max won the pulling match and Little Mark, to teach him a lesson, threw a plate of peanut butter-toast and apple slices at him. The toast, according to Murphy's Law, had to land face down--every last piece. I made both the boys pick up the mess. But for some reason, in the midst of their work, they got the giggles and made up. To solidfy the deal they began eating the grass-and-sand-covered peanut butter toast and apples. I didn't want to interfere in their peace process, however gross it was to watch.

I taught Rose, Ella, & Margaret how to play 5 card draw yesterday, and blackjack. I remember my dad taught us kids when we were little. We'd play for pennies which we didn't keep. The girls loved the game with the pennies. Ella & Meggy learned how to play rummy a month or two ago, and I had to make up a rule that they couldn't get up before 6 AM to play cards. Who knows what will happen with their learning poker. However, I did tell them they weren't allowed to broadcast the fact among their friends or their friends' parents. I can't even begin to imagine the questions I would get from my Evangelical friends--or what I would answer.

Rose & I are reading Little Women. She wants to try out for a part in the Little Women Musical at the Village Square Theater this spring. And I encouraged her to do it. But I just found out that the practices run through Lent and the final performance is on Pascha Sunday. I haven't the heart to tell her, because she would make a perfect Beth: small, thin, and I think she could pull off frail and sickly. She won't be happy about this I'm sure. Maybe I'll get Mark to tell her.
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