This week's Earth Scouts adventure was a decidedly less resounding success than last week. Again we had three little boys who wanted to stay in their jammies and play Lego's all day. Combine that with a drizzly gray day. And a Mama who has been in supremely crabby mood for at least two weeks (please tell me it's just March in Maine...not ready for psychotropic drugs). And a firstborn child who could not decide WHAT TO WEAR...seriously. Because the chickadees were holding a fashion show out in the soggy field.
Once I browbeat everyone outdoors, I put on my Fake Excited and Cheerful Mama act, as we looked for Colors in Nature (let's see...grey, brown, grey and brown)...actually we ended up with a full rainbow (red dogwood branches and sumac berries; orange stick and rock; yellow grass; green spruce tree and tiny, tiny, tiny sprigs of grass; blue jay; oops, no purple; grey clouds, white snow; black rotten leaves)...but there was much complaining about being cold and wanting to go back...counting on this being a minor blip in the road and not a forecast of what's to come.
Later, after I had gotten to the point of, "If I hear the word, 'mama!' one more time I'm going to f*ing scream" for about the fiftieth time this weekend, I escaped, with a friend, through the pouring rain, to Portland, to see The Passion of the Hausfrau. Which you MUST go see if you're anywhere within driving range of Portland. I laughed. I cried. I laughed some more. Then we went out for Indian food. I felt much better for about three hours, then, reluctantly, dragged my heels home, again through the pouring rain, to a house that had been trashed and which sinking ship C abandoned first thing this morning for the next two days...glug, glug.
. . . barn stories: oh the weather
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