The Goats of George Washington

Please forgive the lack of chronological order in this entry. I feel it necessary, for the honor of the goat, to discuss the rumors flying around the internet.

Yes there are goats at Mt. Vernon. Yes I was commenting on the very placid goat who was busily munching the lawn and ignoring the four little boys traipsing by, when I fell. However, despite what Cheryl has told the world, via Twitter, the goat did NOT attack me. He might have possibly uttered a goat-like chuckle at my clumsiness, but that is all.

I was walking down one of the sloped gravel paths at Mt. Vernon when my right foot slipped. I was carrying my purse and the diaper-bag over my left shoulder, and holding Ian with my left arm, perched on my left hip. My left leg, as it is wont to do, betrayed me in my time of need. To wit, it crumpled like British at Saratoga. I collapsed downward, frantically juggling Ian. I failed at any attempt to prevent bodily harm to either of us. Ian’s body flung backwards as we landed and his head bounced off the path. My hands are skinned and the Benedict Arnold of legs didn’t fare so well either. My left knee is skinned and bruised and the left ankle has a mild sprain.

Now, that matter clarified, you might be asking who Cheryl is and why my menagerie of small men folk increased by two. Cheryl and I met in an on-line support group for expectant mothers way back in the summer of 2002. I was pregnant with Ethan; she with her second child. It was this same group that introduced me to Shannon. Unlike Shannon, however, Cheryl lives far away and we were only able to stay in touch via emails and blogs these past 6 years. Until, that is, Cheryl brought her eldest son Aaron to Washington DC. They were accompanied by Aaron’s former teacher Connie and her son Jack. Because both Aaron and Jack are fascinated with Presidential history, I at once volunteered to drive them all to Mt. Vernon for an afternoon of exploration.

Aaron and Jack are precocious, bright, exceedingly polite, and infinitely curious. They thoroughly enjoyed Mt. Vernon and that is all the reward I needed. An afternoon lugging Ian around in 90 degree heat, and twisting my leg, was well worth it to see children learn and LOVE to learn as much as those boys did. Even Ethan absorbed a bit of history and he definitely had a good time.

So, next time you’re in the area, please be sure to pay a visit to lovely Mt. Vernon. And, for the sake of your reputation, beware the goats.

An update on "The List"

Since I last spoke of the "The List" we've managed to cross off several items. But, as so often happens with home repair/improvement, we keep having to add items. Like, when I painted the hallway I removed the lightbulbs from the front entryway light fixture. After I finished painting I replaced the bulbs only to have the fuse blow everytime I turned on the light. So "fix short in fixture" has been added to the list.

An updated List (items in red have been completed):

Kitchen
1. paint ceiling
2. replace fridge
3. replace sink
4. paint utility room
5. touch up pantry paint
6. replace fuse-box

Dining Room
1. replace chandelier
2. touch-up paint
3. touch up trim
4. re-paint ceiling

Hallway/Entryway
1. fix chipped paint
2. paint walls
3. paint trim
4. fix short in light fixture

Living Room
1. touch up paint and trim
2. curtains

Office
1. fix ceiling
2. paint ceiling

Ethan’s room
1. curtains

Boy’s bath
1. finish wallpaper
2. fix tile
3. re-grout floors

Upstairs hall
1. paint walls
2. paint trim

Master bedroom
1. paint ceiling
2. paint trim
3. shades

Master bath
1. paint ceiling
2. paint walls
3. fix/clean molded tile
4. fix shower head

Front yard
1. trim bushes
2. mulch
3. plant flowers
4. remove dead azalea
5. plant bush to hide wires

Back yard
1. repair brick wall
2. dig up bush and replace at wall
3. dig up bush and replace at house
4. fix shed latch
5. replace gate
6. plant flowers

Loss - Again

It was my Uncle Eric who taught me how to cook eggs. It was my Uncle Eric who let Adrian and I stay up late and watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was Eric who picked me up at the Nashville airport, nothing but a diaper bag and 5-week-old Ethan in my arms, so we could attend Pappa’s funeral. He hugged me and told me that he and Pappa had talked a lot about God in those final weeks and that he knew in his heart that Pappa had made peace with the Lord.

Eric was not there at Adrian’s funeral. In the past year Eric, a recovering alcoholic, had abandoned the responsibilities of fatherhood and marriage and fallen off the wagon. He’d returned to the wild, self-destructive ways of his youth, leaving his family confused, hurt and angry. Adrian was physically mad at Eric for his behavior. So, I understood why Eric was not there as we mourned Adrian and buried him beside Pappa, but the understanding didn’t make the sense that something was missing any easier.

On Friday night Eric died in a car accident. He was drunk. He leaves behind a son, a daughter, three foster children, and a wife who have worried about him these long months. They’ve hated him in the way that only people who deeply love and worry about someone can hate another person. He leaves behind a wider family of sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews, and various other relations. A wide panoply of people are in mourning right now, again.

I wish I had the words to help his family, especially his children, understand. I myself don’t have any greater understanding. Adults don’t have the answers to these hurtful questions- a painful part of growing up that I wish five teenagers weren’t having to learn quite so early.

We’re all at a loss – again. Once again we’re trying to understand why a man we loved, a man we needed in our lives, chose to leave us behind.

Mark's "Vacation"

Mark had a long weekend. He celebrated by making this trash pile:

That’s bags of yard clippings, and trash from the office, piled on top of an old, HEAVY, TV that is stacked in front of a full trash can full of even more garbage.

He trimmed this tree:
Yes, that is the trimmed version. Be very afraid. We are.

He hung this new light fixture:
Ok, truthfully, he replaced the chandelier over a month ago, but when he did, the cornice fell (totally not his fault, just another engineering marvel *cough* of our home). So this weekend he fixed the cornice. Now I have to repaint the ceiling:


Somewhere he also found time to buy new hubcaps for his car, get a kiddie pool for the boys, make dinner for me, go to the movies with friends, and light fireworks with Ethan watching.

I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted just typing all of that.

Assassin Bees

I dug up the dead azalea and threw it in the pile of broken branches and twigs that have been accumulating for over a week. (So much for the lovely landscapers that we pay so much for- I think they’ve been mowing AROUND the branch pile) In the process of laying down mulch to cover the hole, I got stung by a bee.

I have to hand it to the folks at the HOA; I had no idea they had the fey powers required to consort with insects, much less turn them into assassins. Sad news, though. The bee failed. I lived.

Note to HOA: next time, send wasps.