Trick or Treat!

Me likey Monday Halloween!

The kids when to party at the Rock Climbing gym on Friday and I was able to go to a (grown up) party on Saturday night, get my vomiting pumpkin (see nauseous blue one below) ready for Monday’s parties, and have a fairly relaxing Halloween day.  I was at all 3 kids parties that day, so nothing else was on the schedule.

The kids were ready to trick-or-treat through the neighborhood before I was ready to take them, so they went on their own.  I missed out on seeing neighbors, but I got us ready for the neighborhood bonfire.  (That’s a fancy term for me setting up our little fire pit in front of our island, and packing over chairs, hotdogs, s’mores, and our jack-o-lanterns in a wheelbarrow.) The kids brought their candy, some neighbors, and their appetites.  The rain held off until bedtime and I chalked one up for a perfect Halloween!

How is this kid still alive?

His mother must be a saint.

There comes a time in every parent’s life when you have to choose to love your kids or your stuff more.

I choose stuff.

Perhaps you remember how Wesley almost didn’t survive my kitchen table refurbishment last summer.  It was bad, and it turned out I hadn’t fully gotten over it. 

Because when I came home 20 minutes after Kyla and Wesley one afternoon, and saw Wesley gouging my table with a pair of scissors, AUGH!  I still can’t even relive it.

I do know that hours later, over dinner, Dwayne was trying to reconcile me and Wesley…and failing.  Wesley offered to vacuum the stairs, pay me $9, or refinish the table next summer.  None of those were either enough or reasonable. 

Wesley and I had to get a place where we could live not being able to make mistakes right again. 

But don’t think I rose above being pissy for a long, long, long time.

And he may want to hope that I’m not put in the position of having to choose between him and furniture.  Because I usually root for the underdog.

No, Not Halloween

My dad is not the easiest guy to find a gift for, so when he turned, um, 74?, this year, I hatched a plan to take my parents out to the

,

a medieval restaurant, circa 1376, as authentic as health codes allow.  Try the hard cider, and the dinner sampler!  The seven of us split all the entrees served, and true to form, no forks or plates were used.  In fact, the only thing Wesley would try was the trencher the meal was served on.

Keith, Brian, let’s do a sibling/spouse date there sometime next summer!

My Fam!

We attended Bethany’s 100th Anniversary service down at UW—one of the few places big enough to hold 5 campuses.  Dwayne and I met and married at the Green Lake campus, back when it was the only campus, so it’s pretty special to us.  And our unsaintly son has one of the pastor’s names as his middle. 

Congratulations, Bethany!

Holding Class

Piper teaches an art class in her free time…as long as she can wear her PJs.

Pumpkin Patch

Weekends whizz by in October, especially if you are waiting for a warm, dry, open day to go spend time and money at the Pumpkin Patch.  That weekend never happened for us in October.  Luckily, a neighbor-friend belongs to a CSA down the street and had no use for the 3 pumpkins they were granted with their membership.   So she gave them to us, and the kids were delighted to go on a sunny day after school to frolic in the fields.

Success!  Thanks, again, Karin!  We spent a particularly pleasant hour on the farm.

The Trellis

The trellis.

The trellis.

Or, maybe, our third and best attempt.

The set up:

Denise:  Babe, look at what I bought.  Grape vines!  One red and one white.  The only place they might grow well is that strip along the driveway—it’s the only place that gets sun most of the day. 

Dwayne:  Mmm.

Denise:  I’m picturing a small trellis…right here….  In a few years, the kids can come out and munch grapes, and…

Dwayne:  Trellis?  And by little, do you mean a 4 post extravaganza that will require a full ton of concrete, 6 weekends of labor, oodles of money in stone, grout, and just-right hardware? 

Denise: Yeeesss…..?

It actually only took a few hours of us working together to build this:

(Granted, setting the posts had to be done one day, the horizontals the next.)

Dwayne was ground crew and engineer.  I was Rosie the Riveter.

Wesley was charming.

I’m barefoot right now, because these two blow my socks off!

This is my little bitty trellis after weekend #1:

A close-up of the hardware that Dwayne assures me I don’t want to know the cost of.  Sigh.  It’s too late, I love it.

Of course, that amount of solid wood needed far more than the original concrete foundation.  Weekend #2 was adding a full ton of concrete the bases.  The first one is carved with a D, the next K, P, and finally, W.

Dwayne decided the trellis needed more.  Like stone-clad column base.

Denise: Sigh. [Translation:  I am a woman with trials.]

The next weekend(s), it looked more like this:

Then, this:

Then, grouted:

Then, finally, capped:

Dwayne: The End.

Denise:  Now I can finally plant my grape vines, and resuscitate all the plants Dwayne crushed. 

Thanks, Babe, I love it!  And doing projects with you, even if it costs me two (more) dead rose bushes.

Poor Daddy