Back when I was wishing that April would hurry up and get over with, I forgot that May is the craziest month of the year. We have managed to survive three birthdays and the most spectacular Hermit Island camping weekend EVER (which just goes to show that repeating the same insane thing over and over again does indeed sometimes produce different results. Take that, Einstein).
We are still deeply immersed in baseball season, with much more to come, but miraculously tonight is game- and practice-free and I am at the library for the first time all month. I hope to be back with more about chickens and camping and boys who are seven and eleven (eleven!!) soon, but for now I have much catching up to do in the fiction-writing world. Wish me luck.