Have any of you ever opened the lid of the washer only to discover, dried now and stuck stiff against the barrel, some long lost item of clothing, a pair of socks or a dish towel? This has happened to me now more times than I care to count.
Every once in a while, Keith needs pictures to reassure him that things continue on as always here in the Indiana household. I need this as well but for a different reason; it provides excellent motivation to finally take that cat toy down from the bedroom into the study, where the cat resides and in similar manner, return all kinds of flotsom and jetsome to their appropriate places. Otherwise my discarded work badge might stay forever erroneously enshrined on the jewelry armoire, for example.
I would join in with the random picture link up over at 4 Little Men and Girly Twins but I had no digital camera last January. Instead, I put up one of the pictures I took for Keith today, one that makes the entire house look neat and therefore is definitely a keeper. And yes, down in the left hand corner is a picture of Staff Sergeant Indiana pretending to shoot me with the drill gun.
Most of the knicknacks displayed are courtsey of his mom, who is a dear heart, even though her taste in decorating and mine do not exactly mesh well. However, when I moved in with Staff Sergeant Indiana it was only months before he deployed and there was no way I was going to add to the stress by attempting a make over at that time. Furthermore, I knew I wasn't going to redecorate when he was deployed, only to have him come home to a house he couldn't recognize and had no imput in.
Consequently, I live in a house with a great deal more ceramic teddy bears than I would ever personally choose. And the fact of the matter is, I have grown to like them. This is adaptation at its best. Half a year ago if anyone had hinted that one day, in the not far future, I would be listening to country music on a daily basis, eating on John Deere table mats and sleeping in a bed that had a shot gun wedged into the frame, I would have simply died laughing.
However, now I don't know what I would do without these things. I always did love country boys, it comes of the dairy farm in upstate New York that was in my father's family for three generations and where I was brought home and placed, bundled in a blanket, in the middle of the rag rug so all my full grown and gangly legged uncles could lie down and solemnly and in wonder watch this new member of the family. Not to mention the moonshine that has been brewed on my mother's side...
Every summer we would drive back up to visit my grandparents and my best friend and as soon as I could smell the cow manure, I knew I was home and would inhale deeply this welcoming aroma. Then we would have a week or two of picking raspberries, getting dizzy on the tire swing, and playing in the creek with Laura, who had the palest skin and most beautiful red hair ever known, and a log cabin that her parents had made with their own hands.
The girls had no idea why today all this going to and fro was necessary, but they were more than happy to go up and down the stairs, tripping mommy up and generally getting underfoot all day long. There are certain places in the house that each of them have laid claim to and they will race there whenever we go near them.
One of these places is the downstairs coffee table. No sooner do I get all settled down on the couch to watch a movie than do the girls begin their dance of doggy domination. Lynn claims her spot and proceeds to snarl: "I reign! I serve the Mommy head from this Sacred Center at her feet! Come closer and I will tear your liver out through your very nostrils!"
Abby always seems to be taken by surprise at this. "Damnit, what are you getting all wrought up about?" she replies. "Well, damnit, I can be loud! I can engage! I'm brave! Wait...you're not letting me near the mom...what's up with that? Now it's on!"
At this point I have missed key opening scenes due to all this noise and annoyed, convince Lynn to stand down so Abby can leap into the breach and on to her place on the couch. There is much loud exchanges while this is happening:
Abby: Ha hahahahah...hey, that's not fair! Mo-ooom!
Lynn: Infidel! Scoundrel....what? Oh...yes, Mommy head, I obey...
I reassure Lynn that she is my girl and I don't know what I would do without her and her unfailing devotion and then I assure Abby that I love her too and to get her eighty pounds plus off my lap so mommy can breathe, and then, finally we can all settle down to watch the movie.
Until the next time...
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