Halfway Gone

Yesterday... or maybe the day before, was the halfway mark of Hubby's trip. 5 minutes after I tucked her in bed tonight Thing 1 called me back to their room and asked me to count for her how many days till he comes back. I can get a little crabby after being called back for a 2nd, 3rd, and 4th hug good night, but I kind of get marshmallow soft for that one. The sad part is he's having to hear over Skype about what's going on with us. It's funny that he'd be missing a lot of this anyway, he'd just be in Minneapolis or Chicago instead of London and Copenhagen, and he'd get to catch up in person on the weekends..

Thing 1's 2nd grade class made volcanoes out of salt clay dough a couple weeks ago, and then yesterday a whole class full of volcanoes erupted. Erupting involved dropping a tablespoon or so of baking soda into the middle hole of each one and then in front of the class each kid got to dump a quarter cup or so of red-dyed vinegar over the baking soda and everyone cheered over the foamy red bubble lava.
It was pretty exciting. I forgot the red dye on the first at home re-enactment.


Thing 2 got a haircut, she wanted it shorter. The beautician asked how short, and Thing 2 held her hands over her ears and said "Like this." What? Over your ears? Honey, that's pretty short! (I'm thinking BOY hair cut...) The beautician flashed me a look, then trotted to the next room and came back with a bunch of haircut books, thumbed through till she found one of a lady with her hair about jawline length, and Thing 2 conceded that would be okay. She looks very cute in short hair, it is a good cut on her, but yes, it is a little shorter than I would have picked for her. She was twittering and so excited all through the haircut, giggling all the way home that first her sister, and then the next day all the kids at school won't recognize her, she'll have to explain who she is. The joy lasted about 4 hours. By bed time she was lamenting that her hair was too short. All my assurances that it looks darling are a waste of breath. By the next morning she seemed resolved, and has been okay since. Something about seeing her naked little stem of a neck is endearing to me...

I've gotten a whole lot done over the past couple of days - the majority of it in the yard. I am not much of a green thumb, I'm more of a gray thumb. I come from a long line of green thumbs, but it sort of missed me. Things don't immediately die under my care, but they start on a long slow track of demise, heading toward eventual death. I can usually keep plants barely alive for years. Hubby is the gardener... as well as being the cook. Apparently his first marriage was awful, so he spent all his time in the garden. He had a beautiful yard. I suppose it's a tribute to a happy marriage that our yard is a mess. What grows without help is growing out of control. What needs help is slowly dying. It's obvious I'm in charge.