We're in week five of sleeping in our camper in Granny's driveway and I must say, although I'm anxious to get back into our house, it could be worse. Going to bed at night is a delight. We say goodnight to Granny and step outside into the darkness or near darkness where the crickets are chirping, katydids are clicking and coyotes are howling. I mean, we could be parked on the street outside our house, listening to the rumble and whistle of a train, so! Our painter, Ron the Painter is taking FOREVER to finish. He's been at it for nearly two weeks and our house is small! He's even painted some rooms the wrong color and had to re-paint them. I guess this is the one drawback of NOT doing it yourself, although I'm pretty sure that we could've taken just as long, doing it ourselves on the weekends and evenings, we probably wouldn't have painted anything the wrong color. Ha! The crazy thing is, he has yet to finish 1 room. Everything is half-finished. We have the A.D.D. painter or something. Oh well, he's the nicest guy, so we can hardly be mad at him. And he's so good natured, I'm positive I couldn't be as good natured, approaching week two of a tiny house paint job, re-painting rooms I'd already painted.
Its going to look great, if it ever gets done! Meanwhile, the girls and I have been relaxing up at Granny's. We're pretty under-scheduled, which is right up our alley. If the girls have to get into the car any two days in a row, they're totally hating it. If they're in the car more than half an hour they're like, "I'm TIRED of being in the car. I want to GET OUT!" Wah, wah! We began Music Together classes and they love it. They're singing non-stop, outside of class. IN class, they're like two stone-faced bumps on logs, but since they're singing outside of class and talking about how much they had fun, they're definitely soaking it in.
We had a lovely weekend in the mountains with Jackie, Hudson and Brian. It was gorgeous and cool and so nice to get away with friends. On the way home, Francesca and Andrew rode their bikes in Glenwood Canyon. He is on cloud nine riding bikes with his little girl, as is Francesca. We go down to the road almost everyday here at Granny's to ride around on the good, smooth country road. If I sound like I'm tooting my horn too much - just let me digress for a moment:
I don't know why I love blogging about bizarre-o stuff, but I guess I just enjoy laughing at life's non-so-finer moments. Maybe I think that everyone knows how adorable and great Francesca and Cecilia are, so sharing the gross stuff (peeing in the closet) seems necessary!
Right now, Francesca is enjoying a spitting phase. It is so gross. My first reaction (the wrong one) was to admonish the behavior, ala Good Families Don't by Robert Munch. "Did you just spit!? That is disgusting! I don't want to ever see you do that again. That's gross, blah, blah, blah." My latest reaction is to say, when I see her get that goofy, I'm about to do something really naughty smile on her face, as she tries to muster some spit, "Spitting is still gross, but if you have to spit, spitting outside, in the country, is where to spit, not inside, on Granny's floor. If you have to spit then spitting here is okay." Her face lights up, she is glowing, she bends half-way over and spits. She spits about five more times in the next sixty seconds. And where do I get off being so self-righteous about spitting? Me, who used to hawk loogies on my heater, from the top bunk of my bunk bed, at about age seven. I cried when I was finally busted and had to scrub the encrusted, baked on loogies off my heater, but it broke me of the habit. Maybe if I encourage the outside spitting, I won't ever see Francesca spitting on her heater from her top bunk, ala mommy.
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