Fierce guardians of the library cards

I'm seriously having issues with the Berryville library. The librarians may have layers like onions, because they guard their library cards as jealously as an ogre its toll bridge. For background. Berryville has pretty much no bureaucracy and everything but the post office, even the library, is physically in the same building.

So I was caught flat-footed the day I tried to get my new library card, present address firmly in mind and two small girls in tow. I was informed in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to check things out I had to come back with suitable papers - they handed me a list - and have a nice day.

So I perused the list. Utility bill. Okay. So yesterday, while Jonathan watched the girls, I went back with a utility bill and two or three other items to prove our Berryville residence. They didn't like them either. Those papers were in Jonathan's name. (Because, guess what, he called to set up our utilities.) Aren't they in my name too? Obviously not. Could the librarian call Jonathan to confirm he's my husband? No. They don't do that. Bring them a piece of mail with my name on it. Any piece of mail will do. [Hmm.]

I left, defeated.

A sympathetic relative asked if I was considering identity theft yet.

So today, after church, and meeting our landlady, and after determining that I needed chocolate chips for a Death By Chocolate zucchini cake with ganache and that I had to go out to the grocery store, I dropped by the library again. I took several items of mail with my name and current address on it - an ad from the utility company, an ad from Garnet Hill, and some kind of insurance statement. "Any piece of mail will do" was replaying in my mind.

The Berryville library is closed on Sundays.

The entire Berryville county building is apparently closed on Sundays.

The end.



On happier topics, when Jonathan's parents came down last week, they brought a whole bin of my old toys, including a collection of stuffed animals. Meg is particularly fond of one I called Asenath, after Joseph's Egyptian wife. Meg doesn't like that name, though. "Have you seen Little Miss Kitty? She's white and fluffy. She's the one Mom calls Asthma."

Feels like home

A friend invited us to go berry picking at the Mackintosh farm this morning. It was downright chilly - only about sixty-five, which is ridiculous for late July, and it was wonderful. Hurray for the polar vortex. (It DID come back in the summer when we would appreciate it!) Meg and I actually had more fun in the veggie patch than with the blackberries: the berries were fine, but on the other side we found zucchini and eggplant and peppers in their natural habitat. Meg especially got a kick out of picking peppers. 

The zucchini plants at the farm had both ripe fruit and blossoms on the same plant, which I thought was so strange. We have two zucchini plants out back, both of which are blooming, so
I figured I might as well check them. And we had a huge zucchini - six inches long and nearly as thick. It looked like a watermelon. Cool.

The zucchini that looks like a watermelon

I finally worked up the courage to take the girls out back to our deck. The poison ivy has been poisoned (well, once) and was lying low, and since I washed our little dumpster the wasps haven't been around, so out we went. Also, I couldn't waste that 70-degree weather. I knocked the spiderwebs down and we picnicked for dinner and kicked a ball around afterwards.

It's so nice to play outside. It makes it feel like home. Also, what makes this house feel like home: Sayers books by the bed, Wodehouse books in the bathroom, and library books on every flat surface in every room where Jonathan has been, like a trail of bread crumbs. I love it.

She was listening to that story about Henry II

Meg just emerged wearing her knight's helmet over a pink giraffe-spotted fluffy blanket on her head. She got right in my face and said, "I am the Emperor the Second. 'Cuz the Emperor the First died."

Technology

Mary Poppins: "At that time in England, they didn't have cameras. They only had telephones to take pictures with." Meg

The country has bugs

Also, I got caught behind a hay truck yesterday and people held the door for me at the dollar store. True story.

Meg: Mom, did God make flies?
Me, confidently: Yes.
Meg: RATS! Then it's a BAD UNIVERSE!

We moved to Berryville this weekend, which isn't that far from Leesburg, except for being worlds away. I am in shock. Hang on if I haven't gotten back to you; we just got internet this morning.

The story of Stars and Lemon, the mice

Meg has a story for you.

Once upon a time, there were two mice named Stars and Lemon. One mouse was blue and one was green. They decided to have a party the very next day. But the day of the party, all the lemons on their lemon tree were gone! At night, some very hungry raccons came and ate them all up.

Then the mice decided to plant another tree. The stars at night helped the new lemon tree to grow a lot of lemons and potatoes and all sorts of yummy food. It grew so tall so that no hungry raccoons could reach all the lemons, but the mice had a special ladder so they could get up the tree and pick all the lemons.

And their party was a great party. Some other mice named Tomatoes, Grapes, Oranges, Purples, and Crayons came over, but Purples was orange.  Tomorrow was Lemon's birthday and Lemon wanted a sea turtle under-the-sea-space party. Crayons, the aunts, and other mice from all over town came. And there was a kid named Potatoes. They named the plant after the girl. But some goats and foxes jumped high into the sky to eat all of the yummy food, but they couldn't do it because the tree grew a lot taller than they expected. Stars and Lemon had to build the ladder even bigger. Lemon's party was a great party.

The end.

Kate is great: nine month update

Today is Kate's actual three-quarters of a birthday! She's a cheerful,* friendly, social baby, who likes to charm everybody who passes by.

She also likes to eat. She's at that funny stage where she'll be playing happily and discover suddenly that she'd quite like a snack, and just up and start screaming. Exciting. Her favorite food, bar none, is sauteed onions. She likes them alone, with bell pepper for fajitas, on or with pretty much anything, and last night she ate onions, asparagus, and beets, roasted with balsamic vinegar. I nearly fell over. She likes beef (cut up small), and she likes enchiladas (green chile and all), and she devours pretty much any fruit. She does not care for baby food purees, considering them beneath her time and dignity. But any food on my plate is a matter of deep interest.

She hasn't figured out rolling yet. She has a squirm that's almost a roll, but it's unpredictable. She crawls backwards nimbly, and she's developing this awkward over-the-leg scoot for forward motion. She can go from sitting to stomach, but it's harder to get up once she's down. She's just started trying to pull up on things, which doesn't do her much good since she refuses to try standing up. Sitting is so useful. She's so good at it. She likes sitting. Standing is unnecessary.

She loves books. She likes to wave the pages back and forth. She really learned how to scoot forward to get those grown-up hardbacks we tend to leave just out of reach, and yesterday she was showing me and Jonathan this really cool thing: a book cover opens and shuts! Watch this!


*Unless she's hungry. She gets this from me.

Telling it like it is

"Dad, while you do some really not very interesting things, I'll go get my milk." Meg

All illusion, really

It was such a harmless quote...

"Mommy's just filling in the corners."
"Which was a hobbit allusion, " I said, for Meg's benefit. Because she clearly needs to be fully acquainted with all of Tolkien's passing turns of phrase at the earliest opportunity.
Meg announced, "It was an OCCLUSION!"

We all laughed, and Jonathan started defining all the "--lusion" words he could think of.  Meg suggested "solution."
"Yes, a solution is a problem fixed," Jonathan agreed.
I added, "Or it's something dissolved in liquid."
"Yes, which solves the problem of nothing being dissolved in your liquid. Or you're about to throw it at a troll. Which makes him solvent. His bankruptcy creditors are delighted!"

"I'm going to be a laughingstock of linguists and alchemists alike." Jonathan

Big sister

"I'll be an efficient taker-carer of Kate by putting a unicorn in front of her face!" Meg