Category: Home

The Lego Library

It’s fascinating to listen to people’s reactions to our home. We have a tile (I won’t tell you where) which must have some magic. Whenever someone steps on this tile, they compliment the house. Is it perfect feng shui from this tile’s perspective? Is there a conduit of light that touches a person’s aesthetic sensitivities just the right way? It’s not the furniture… it’s not the decorating. It could be the shiny black piano, but that would give away the relative position of the tile, so never mind.

Besides this one spot from our hallway, I receive compliments about our plastic Lego drawers. They are 12×12 inch drawers with lids which fit in a tower of seven. They were made for scrapbook supplies, but they can contain even large Lego sets. I stack them recklessly and precariously. I call them our Lego Library. In this library, each child checks out one box at a time, so to speak. I bought them at Target, but I’m afraid they are no longer sold at my store. Drat.

Most of the Legos in this collection came from a yard sale and we paid $4 a set. Smokin’ deal. I wish we had bought more. I scanned the original nicotine-riddled boxes and printed them for the front and top of each plastic box.

When you want to play, you just pull out your box…

and play with the set. Remember: you must clean up your set before you get another one. Only one set allowed per child. When friends come over, I say no more than 3 sets out at a time.

I also bought drawers without lids for Mark’s Legos.

When I give a big Lego set to the kids, we give them a new drawer for storing it.

Most of our Legos are not this organized. I see these lidded drawers as a place to keep special sets intact, and the Legos in the bedrooms are for more creative play. In the bedrooms we store Legos in long under-bed boxes. The Lego Library is kept separate from the other Legos in the house.

As a mother of 3 boys, a lot of energy is spent dealing with Legos… and dirty socks.

Thanks for listening.

Ready for pink blossoms

These crape myrtle buds are just about ready to burst open in the backyard. Our choice of a crape myrtle tree is based in our love of Austin lore, as we had three of these lovelies when we lived there.

Today we celebrated the last P.E. class and the end of a golf session. We ate a celebratory lunch at the park and played water games and sipped Capri Suns.

Daniel’s golf instructor

 

Slowly, the traces of activities are being swept away… a ballet recital and two baseball games remain. Summer awaits with all its possibilities.

One corner of our yard

The irises arrived with great showmanship this year.

 

Daniel is our photographer.

 

Do you spy a little friend on our fence?

 

Our neighbors planted this beautiful hedge which flowers in the spring.

 

Here we will stay

Sometimes I just have to pinch myself because those saguaros are so beautiful. We bought our house 5 years ago today. It’s St Patrick’s Day, the day we said in writing, “Here we will stay.”

We have a full life here and I am grateful to be here. This week I have been privileged to see the generosity of many people in my community working together on a humanitarian aid project. So many times this week I have had a full heart as I have responded to calls and emails offering to help. One person heard about the project but is currently traveling overseas. She contacted me to find out how she can contribute. Such generosity! Tomorrow we will complete our project of making hygiene kits for disaster victims and send them off.

Dear Japan,
Someone in this desert is thinking of you and hopes you will be okay.
Love,
Sahuarita, Arizona

Planting Day

1978 Angie and Joe

It’s about time to plant the garden. We have a little work to do in the raised beds in the backyard: some waterproofing of the stones, some more dirt to haul, and then some planting. Richard threw old leaves and odd things on the soil this winter. The other day we found a bunch of eggshells scattered in the dirt. I guess tomatoes need calcium.

As a child, I always looked forward to planting the garden. I’d admire my parents’ strength as they turned over the soil with shovels. Dad’s investment of leaf and grass compost really made for a wonderful garden. I don’t remember a motorized plow in the early days.

I didn’t mind weeding the garden. I could nestle in beneath the corn plants and breathe in the smell of the tomato plants. It was a good time to tell my dad secrets and squish my toes in the mud. You can’t beat that.

Happy to report

I found a pumpkin seed as I swept the floor today. That little feller has been sitting in my pantry since October. I decided that it was a tribute to the kind of house this is.

I’m happy to report that this house shows all the signs of use and/or neglect that a busy family house should. As for the school stuff, the bookshelves are brimming, the papers are bulging from the corners of their folders, and school projects line flat surfaces everywhere.

It’s a good life…minus the dog who ruined my new rug this week.

Living in Arizona

Thinking of you, dear readers, out here in the Arizona desert. I am looking forward to many things this weekend.

Living in Arizona means lots of dust. I’m looking forward to cleaning the carpets this weekend.

Living in Arizona means Mexican food cravings as I scan through the MANY Spanish-speaking radio stations while driving. We’re going to see about fixing some of those cravings this weekend, too.

Living in Arizona means you get two seasons. We’re in the hot season now, so it’s the perfect time to read!

Living in Arizona means ripe garden tomatoes in May. Yum.

Happy weekend!

Frescoes, an electroscope and piano surgery

Our piano tuner came today. He tunes our piano twice a year. That’s more often than I get an hour to myself. That’s more often than we eat tuna. Actually, I never serve tuna.

(Back to the story) I barricaded myself in the school room to appear to be holding school, even though that’s impossible when a piano tuner is pounding on the piano keys and tweaking the long strings. It’s like living in Professor Higgins’s house hearing Eliza Doolittle’s vowels over and over.

(Back to the story) Midway through the tuning, he stopped. He went to his car for additional tools. The next thing I knew, the piano was in pieces all over the room: keys, hammers, you name it… everywhere. He’s only taken the piano apart one other time and this is always disconcerting. Somewhere in my head I am entertaining questions like, “What if he forgets how to put it back together?” or, “What if he forgets a piece?”

I decided we had to take drastic action. So as to not appear concerned, I decided to teach science in the kitchen, directly across from him so we could keep an eye on him and the poor dismembered piano. We built an electroscope and I tried to sound engaged and scientific. That’s my new word with Daniel, “Daniel,” I say, “You need to act engaged in what I’m asking you to do. No more slumping over.”

Here is the electroscope (which I keep trying to type, “spectroscope”):

It’s actually very cool. Trust me.

After the surgery on the piano (sigh… there were wood shavings on the floor!) he put the piano back together and I snuck a picture. It’s not every day that you see a grand piano taken apart. All is well. The keys are resting evenly in their piano bed.

And though we didn’t have a stellar school day, we did build an electroscope, read about frescoes and Pompeii, and finished our work later in the afternoon.