Most years, the dads in our little friend-family take the boys and hike back to a yurt for a man weekend. It’s there that they’ve learned how to choose teams, gang up on each other, and pretty much pummel each other with snowballs and then sit around and fart for the rest of the time.

Or something like that.

:)

They tempered a bit since there were ladies this time, sans yurt and hiking in, but I think I got to see the big payoff.

To begin, we started the day by playing bunny dollhouse and digging into some waffles. Those are the leftovers. Might have overshot that one.

This was spied outside.

It was all downhill from here. No, really.

Our smallest fry learned the proper technique to make killer snowballs.

Note to self: never play snow wars with an ex-pitcher.

Snowflakes do stick to eyelashes. Love that.

Love him, too.

I wish I could say that no trees were harmed in the making of these photos.

That would be a lie.

There’s a Ewan in there. Look closely.

Charlie wins for the best photo finish faces, ever.

And I win for the loudest belly-holding laughs, ever.

Almost peed my snow pants.

We have AWESOME friends who periodically invite us to their AWESOME family cabin (not a cabin – bigger than my house) for some AWESOME time to recharge. And our phones don’t work there. Cable TV barely does, and no Internet.

Every person in my little family did their AWESOME dance.

People, we slept in (to like, 8:00 am or something crazy). We built fires in the mornings and napped in the afternoons. We sat and read books. We walked in the snow and listened to the quiet sound under our boots. And we played. There was absolutely no agenda except to just be.

And by the way, this is how you stomp the snow off your boots before you come inside. ;)

My father-in-law visited recently – twice in fact. We saw him for near back-to-back hunting seasons last month, and I have to say, he charmed my socks off. It’s not often that I get to grab a cup of coffee, pull up a chair, and listen to stories from the Colonel. It reminded me of sneaking into the sitting room during family reunions to listen to the aunts talk about the good ol’ days and laugh so hard they sounded like they whooped and hollered. There’s a lot to be said about laugh lines that you’ve worked hard for your whole life; the kind that make your eyes dance with memories. Such a treat.

And the goodbye sucked.

As we were all a little sad, the boys and I made a quick stop on the way home from school for a photo opp. One cooperated for a nanosecond, and the other…well. They baited and switched at me.

A quiet house called for some playtime with a best buddy. She’s the littlest sister to two brothers and she’s my favorite hamster. Part pink and sweet, part spicy and spinny. And very much a Lego-building pro.

I’m not the only one in the house quite smitten with her, either.

The boys rounded the day out nicely – by sneaking in a few jellybeans before tooth-brushing time. Gives you something fun to spit out with your toothpaste, I suppose.

I think we’re doing a pretty fine job of settling into the last bits of fall and the beginning of winter. Christmas decorations started going up today and since it’s the first of December, I’m finally allowed to play Christmas music in the house at will.

Happy December.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone, in our house is a little haywire today. I threw-I-mean-encouraged the boys onto the trampoline to work out the sillies before dinner.

Can you imagine what the inside of our house would look like if we were to let them inside?

Well I can. That’s why I locked the doors.

But then I had to intervene with a “NO BITING” yell. Seriously! BOYS!

And also…I have worked, well, off and on for 44 years to have abs like this and he has them totally refined within eight. And oh yeah, that’s what his stomach looks like when he LAUGHS. WHAT. GIVES. ?!?!?

I suppose you’d have to have a pesky little brother and do hurkies on the trampoline for nine hours a day at him. That must be what I’m doing wrong.

Well. That and maybe Nutella. I might be sneaking some of that, too.

Ellie was no help.

And Pearl was just a crazy loon. She kept circling me – very fast.

When I could finally breach her force field, I went to examine our last hangers-on of fall (hello apple tree; we will be taking good care of you this winter so that you can treat us to yummy apples next fall).

And lo and behold, the cold frames provide. We have carrots and lettuces coming soon.

When the dark pushed us inside, I looked up from my dinner experiment (hoping desperately we wouldn’t be calling the pizza delivery guys) to see my husband doing this…

(Please don’t be as alarmed as I was. He was “checking his scope”. OOOOOOKKKKKKK.)

And then I went upstairs to find this in my sanctuary of a bathtub.

Not only did he sneak into my favorite haven, he sneaked into my secret bubble bath stash as well.

There was nothing left to do but sneak into my super secret special stash.

Thank you Flemish lady. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

p.s. I think I need a new blog category, and I shall name it, “What the hell just happened?”

Truth: what my house really looks like during the day.

Truth: I got to cook the freshest meal the other night with newly processed elk, canned tomatoes, and just snipped herbs (elk & canned tomatoes compliments of Hank).

Truth: my heart broke a little tonight as our 4yo went to his first sleepover alone (as in, without big bro).

Truth: the hazy evening light these days is killing me. So breathtaking, even through a dirty car window.

Truth: we wouldn’t have made the 20-minute trip to that sleepover destination without an emergency potty break. (Not mine…his.)

Truth: can’t deny the happiness of said sleepover. *sigh*

Well, it’s done. I am no longer a 120 film virgin.

I know that some friends are very confused with this film fascination, and I get it. Why shoot with film, when you can’t immediately see your photos, have to take your film in for negatives and scans, and have to invest additional dollars in that process?

Here’s a passage that I read recently from A Long Way from Chicago:

Grandma’s head appeared between Ray’s and mine. ‘What in the Sam Hill is that noise?’ she said.

Ray indicated the radio.

‘Shut it off,’ she said. ‘Let’s listen to the country.’

So we did. Since a Terraplane is another thing with wings, I edged up to twenty-files miles an hour, watching the needle rise. Over the purr of the motor we heard a wind pump squeaking as it turned and a calf bawling and the katydids starting up in a grove of walnut trees. I see us yet, chasing the setting sun down the ribbon of road between the bean rows, in the Terraplane. I thought it was about as fine a car as they’d ever make. I’m not so sure it wasn’t.

So that’s why. It’s just about as fine a thing as you’d ever make – a film picture.

I’m just in the baby stages, watching the needle rise, hoping to get the hang of it as I go.

All photos: Mamiya 645 | Ilford 400 | 110mm

The last of our garden’s tomatoes, ripening on the porch.

Holden, lost in thought for a moment.

The endless work of boys – digging for treasure.

Hello, love.

More boys enlisted in the cause.

Afternoon backyard digs.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the privilege of capturing The Many Faces of Holden the Weird.

I didn’t mean to have to show you (or admit to) any part of the large laundry monster currently living at the foot of my bed, but this happened, and then I had to.

This final face is my favorite Holden Face. If you know him, you also know the accompanying throaty and muffled giggle and smiley eyes that make his eyelashes seem to curl up more and make him most beautiful. It happens involuntarily, and always with lips closed together over his teeth and his neck stretched out a bit. It’s the unguarded one…the one that’s really happy way deep down, but doesn’t need a loud and dramatic heehaw laugh. It’s purely Holden.

Thank you, Daylight Savings Time, for giving us a little extra sunshine time this morning before school. My deepest gratitude.

We’re moving into our quiet season – one in which there’s more reading, snuggling, sitting by the fire, and painting.

Seems we missed shark week, so we had a shark painting date.

Dude’s a fast painter. He went in with a plan, picked his colors, and knocked it out. I, of course, made a coffee cup, to be revealed later. :)

Know what’s better than a black and red shark?

You guessed it: apple cider.

‘Twas a bit hot.

But totally hit the spot.

We have witchery.

Pooped out witchery.

Looks-like-he’s-eating-a-bowl-of-cereal tomfoolery.

Instructional tomfoolery.

Letting your creative freak flag fly-ing.

Halloween cat catching.

And finally, the piece-de-resistance-ing. Or, in some circles, happy-happy-happying.

Last shot taken by the good soul, Geoff Deakin. Thank you much, sir.

Carrying on with November, now. ;)

I love really calling the boys out on the “trick” part of “trick-or-treat”.

You know why?

Because not all Skittles are equal.

He knows all of his sounds and is a really good reader at four already, but the “ou” part of a word (i.e. “sour”) isn’t familiar yet.

So…I get to tease him about not knowing how to read – NOT IN A MEAN WAY – and what a crack up he is. All wit, I tell ya.

Oh and look, Harry Potter fans. We have a Sorting Hat in the house.