The other afternoon, soon after my older daughter headed out the door, we heard a piercing shriek followed by some (mild) swearing. A couple seconds later, she flew back in and babbled a full report: Snake! Huge! You gotta come see!

My husband and I dutifully tromped outside. No snake anywhere. (Which was more than a little unnerving.) But then I spotted it slithering through the grass, heading for an evergreen. When it started climbing, we realized it was after a nest of eggs—the mother bird was stress-hopping about the yard—so we intervened. (Because National Geographic we are not.) Thwarted, the snake headed off through the flower bed.


Can I pick it up? My older son had joined us by then.

No! we said. Just leave it alone.

But I know how to do it. I won’t get hurt. Please?

Fine, I said. But if we have to make a trip to the ER, you have to pay us 50 dollars. Deal?

But the best part was when the snake stuck its tail up my son’s shorts (see above) and gave my husband the willies.

And then my son went across the road and tossed the snake into a wooded area, far from our chicken coop.

The end.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (5.23.16), the basics, more on trash, the reason why, the boring blues, chocolate-kissed chili, Aunt Valerie’s blueberry bars.

This same time, years previous: sauteed lambsquarters with lemon, campfire cooking, Costco reflections, ice cream supper, Shirley’s sugar cookies, the trouble with Mother’s Day, the quotidian (5.21.12), through my daughter’s eyes, caramel cake.

Last Wednesday, my younger son had the surgery on his broken arm. The kid was so excited! He woke up on his own at 5:15 and insisted upon taking the recommended 2nd pre-surgery shower (that we said he didn’t need to take).

At the hospital, his giddy happiness gradually turned to anxiety-laced cheerfulness. He wanted me right next to him for everything, and when they put in his IV (it took two tries), he had a death grip on my hand.

 But he never stopped smiling! Even when he came out of surgery, all mellow and subdued, he was still pleasant and curious.

What a trooper.

The doctor said the bones had already started to fuse back together. He told me—rather exuberantly, I thought—that it’d taken a bit of tugging and pulling to set the arm, and then he eagerly got out his phone to show me the x-rays of his work. I wasn’t too surprised when the kid had a lot more pain this time around.

Yesterday was the follow-up appointment. I couldn’t wait to see what was under all the bandaging.

There’s a pin matter-of-factly sticking out of the skin. Eek!

Judging by the x-rays, the inside part of the pin is about 2 inches long and angles back up into his arm, through the break. (His skin is orange, I’m guessing because of the surgery disenfectant.)

Now that he’s pinned, and because there’s already lots of new bone growth, they put him in a below-the-elbow cast which is super nice. Three weeks in this one, and then back to the office to pull the pin (sounds, um …. interesting?), and then a couple more weeks in a removable (hip-hip!) brace.

Broken bones are such an adventure!

This same time, years previous: chocolate peanut butter sandwich cookies, the quotidian (5.18.15), crock pot pulled venison, help, a burger, a play, and some bagels, my favorite things, strawberry spinach salad, cinnamon tea biscuits.