If I've got a load of clean clothes to fold, Matthew likes to pick up individual pieces and tell me what belongs to whom.
The gray socks: Daddy's.
The "Cuddle Me" shirt: Joel's.
The stripey socks: Matthew's.
The dish towel: Mama's.
I've never given it much thought (OK, maybe a little consternation), but whenever we have a windy day (I'm talking weather terms here - what were you thinking?), there's a high-pitched whistling that eerily wends its way through our neighborhood. I guess I always chalked it up to the houses being so close together. (Want to play video games with your next-door neighbor while each in your own home? No problem! Handshake through the window? Reach out and touch someone.)
But yesterday when Stephen mentioned the electricity wires and how they sing in the wind, I had an ah-ha moment.
So that's what it is!
Only the ghosts of modernity.
During lunch today Matthew was saying "Grandpa wave. Airport. Grandpa's gone," while looking around sadly. Which left me snuffling a bit, as you can imagine.
And just now, as I put the beans down for their after-lunchies nap, Matthew was telling me again about his airport trip this morning: "See you later! Bye! Grandpa's gone."
It's too hard to say goodbye, so we'll just say "see you later" to Grandma and Grandpa. Stephen and Matthew are taking them to the airport as I type this, Joel has gone down for a morning nap, and I think I'll head for one myself before the boys get back and we take Stephen to work.
What a wonderful month it's been, full of fun activities and good hanging-out time. Grands, we'll miss you!
Modern cameras have red eye reduction down to a tee. But having reviewed a lot of photos of the beans recently, I am wondering if there is a need for a new feature: Yellow ear reduction.
Yesterday, in a spur-of-the-moment fit of madness, Grandma and I gave Joel his first wrestling match (I mean haircut). We whacked a bit off from over his ears and quite a bit from the back, while Matthew watched The Elephant Song and Grandpa laughingly observed the action in the ring. Grandma and I did finally get Grandpa to help hold Joel's head a bit, though even with three adults taking one little guy on, I think the infant still won the championship trophy.
And I'm sure if there had been a prize of some sort, it would've immediately been covered in drool goop - courtesy of a Joel who now looks like more of a little man than ever (albeit a teething one).
Yes, it is that time of year again. The time of year when delicate, pink blossoms shower the landscape - and not so delicate amounts of beer and bentos are consumed on attractive blue tarps underneath them. Today happened to be the peak of the flower viewing for this season down at Shukugawa, and so we braved the crowds, and enjoyed the weather and the sights.