Because tutus make anything even better

Big Excitement at the OK Corral

The day after one of our first cold nights, I was sitting on the living room floor with the girls, when I noticed what appeared to be wisps of smoke coming from the roof of an abandoned building across the street.  There's a little green space past the abandoned building.  I wondered if someone was grilling in the space.  I told the girls to stay put, ran across the street, confirmed that there were no grillers but there was definitely smoke, and called 911.

Big excitement ensued.

Around seven fire trucks eventually parked across the street.  Many sirens.  Many hoses.  (Many firefighters standing around looking bored, but never mind).  The girls loved it.

Frances wore her winter jacket like pants, with her legs in the arms, to mimic the fire fighters' pants.

Those may look like sofa pillows, but they're actually hoses.

This is what Chandler looks like when she's making a spraying sound.

Helmets, boots and pajamas were necessary, naturally.

Big excitement.

Except the girls have never mentioned it again.  No fire fighter play.  No, "Our mom's a hero." Nothing.  Ah, well.

Now, if someone could just do something useful with the remains of the building before another homeless person sets it on fire again trying to keep warm, that would be lovely.  Dream big, Jamaica Plain, dream big.

A Little Wander

Before heading back to Boston, we had a little wander around the Weininger-Stearns' where we'd spent the night.  There are worse places to wander around.

That's Chandler in the pink jacket and Molly with the long blonde hair.

Frances, Zak, Beka, Molly and Dan.

We'd thought about going picking at an apple orchard, but who needs an apple orchard, really?

We managed to fill our pockets with enough apples to make apple butter.

And then it was Zak's turn to fall apart.

Rhinebeck Sheep and Wool Festival and Healthy!

Last year, we'd planned to meet our friends Beka, Dan, Molly and Zak at the Sheep and Wool Festival.  At the last minute, we decided Frances was too sick and she and Mark stayed home.  This year, we were all healthy.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It is such an interesting place.  A mix of artisanal crafters and farmers.  Finished yarn, huge bags of raw wool, sheep.  I asked Mark what he thought the next layer of weird looked like.  He said he didn't want to find out.  He may be right about the next layer of weird, but I like this layer of weird.

Fancy, shmancy donuts. 

A talk on breeding a nicely textured yarn, something about yearling meat ram or mature wool ewe, or something.  The girls listened for quite a long time.  I was impressed.

Then we found the auction.  The girls thought this was fascinating.  I was very impressed.

Frances was very interested in how audience members were making bids.  It was very hard to catch.

I'm actually not sure what kept Chandler's attention, but she stuck with it for a long time.

These funny kids at this funny place.

Seventy-One Months of Kindergartener Frances

I'm so proud of this kid.  

She passed her swim test and is down to two "bubbles" or flotation pads.  She's doing great.

Thirty-Two Months of Toddler Chandler

Did I know these kids?  

Not really.

Did Chandler know these kids?

Not at all.

Did it matter to her?

Nope, she just plunked herself down and hung out.

Just hanging out...

...being Episcopal.

Giving Ballet Another Whirl

Frances chose to take ballet again this fall.  I think for Frances it's mostly an opportunity for her to see her friend Darby rather than learn steps, but the ballet teacher has mentioned that seeing friends is a major draw for many young ballerinas.

We'll go with it.  We've been going to ballet for about three years now.  Friday afternoons would feel empty without it.

Dance, Frances, dance!

Apples and Pumpkins

It was time for our annual pilgrimage to Tougas Farm, a happy place to be.

I suppose because they don't want hundreds of people wandering around uncorralled, farm guests are asked to take a very short hayride out to the orchards.  The girls didn't mind a bit. 

Our annual impersonations of giraffes:

I hear other people use ladders.

Then on to the pumpkins, though it was still a month until Halloween.

My love for the color orange grows every year.  How could it not with photo opportunities like these?

And then, caramel apples and cider donuts, for one last dab of sweetness.

Broadmoor, again

I'm beginning to feel like I should apologize for going to the same places over and over.  This is at least the second, and probably the third, post about Broadmoor in Natick.

But it's so pretty, I can't help myself.

Maybe my (tiny) audience will forgive my repetitiveness if I throw in some pretty nature shots? 

(The white blobs are swans.  Frances was entranced; Chandler wasn't.)

And then we went home and read Tintin, the girls' latest obsession since finding a trove of Tintin books in Maine (thank you, Cousin Roger).

How to Avoid a Pesky Herb Surplus

Give them to your kids for making "soup."

Chandler came up with this game last summer, and it's been a hit.  Mostly they use fennel seeds (I believe we had three bottles, but not anymore!) and garlic salt (no idea why we had garlic salt to begin with).

First Day of K2!

(That's Kindergarten for the rest of the world.)

Frances went off to K2 without blinking an eye.  This girl is made for school.  We lovelovelove her teacher, Ms. Freeman.  She is so in tune with Frances's needs and strengths.  And Frances is just thriving.  I think we'll have a fluent reader on our hands by year's end.  We love to watch her grow!

Seventy Months of Almost-Kindergartener Frances

Thirty-One Months of Toddler Chandler

We're trying to be a little more proactive with Chandler about bike riding.

But then there's the goof-ball aspect to keep up with.  Like when she jumps off the bike unexpectedly.

A Fair Wind

We were able to sail without the motor, of course, but it meant waiting for the wind to come up in the afternoon and shooting the mooring.  Both possible, luckily.

Sir and Chandler.  

Frances, Sir and Chandler

The natal unit.

Sailing is mostly snacking for the little Uptons, but that's fine.