I’m not dead yet

Tonight’s installment of My Captivity is brought to you by a dinner comprised of red wine and Ritz crackers. . . and maybe some blue cheese if I can muster the energy to walk the 8 or so feet to the fridge. TBD.

It’s been an interesting past few weeks. After the IKEA bed educational experience, the house came down with norovirus. I told the Princess Captor that’s what she gets for licking the sidewalk. She tells me it was tasty. She also graciously shared it with the Tiniest Captor and Uncle. (Who, BTW, was prepping to leave in mere days on a rather lengthy deployment. ) Nice work, Princess Captor.

It’s snowed a few times in the past 3 weeks- which means I’ve had to break out the snow blower and I gotta tell ya, there’s no scarier feeling than hearing the “ca-chunk” of a cleverly hidden river rock going through the snow-cutter-blade-thingies and the following “woosh!” as it exits the chute. You find yourself watching in slow-motion as it sails through the air, tumbling end over end towards a window. (In this case, a rather large window that would be obnoxious to replace-probably.) When you hear a dull “WHUMP!” and see that it’s hit JUST ABOVE THE WINDOW you practically melt with relief.  Maybe even happy dance and not even care if the neighbor sees you.

I’m telling you, it’s the most dramatic 1.52 seconds in your life.

Speaking of sidewalks and snow blowing, it seems it’s good fun for the plow drivers to push everything from the road back up onto the sidewalks. No sooner did I get in from clearing them (and not breaking a window) the guy comes by and the mound now covering it is akin to the iceberg that sank the titanic.  Ice chunks and all. Every day the kids march by and I swear I’ve seen one on a wooden door saying “I’ll never let go Jack!”  . . .  thanks plow guy.

Really though, it’s been rather quiet at the house. Lots of the same routine every day. Me, waking up before the dawn, milking the cow by candle light and then churning the butter for the day’s breakfast. Pa making the fire to heat the cabin. Oh wait, that must have been a past life.

It’s more like: Me, waking up before the dawn, stumbling down the stairs and tripping over a dog on the way to the coffee pot in hopes that the automatic timer has worked and magically there is hot, delicious, live giving coffee waiting for me. Then, it’s feed the babies, yell at the Smaller Captor about a million times for a number of reasons (read: flushing the toilet, picking up his towel, putting on clothes, etc.) Then once he’s off to school (deep sigh of relief) Its the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse! nap time, and work for me. Lunch, play, clean up whichever disaster looks the worst, ignore the others, and decide if I have enough energy to make dinner, or play a riveting game of “how-old-is-this-leftover?”By 6:30 I’m asking anyone if they’re tired and want to go to bed-no dice.  Magically everyone is in bed by 9 and it seems like as soon as I close my eyes, the alarm is going and it’s time to do it all again.

But I’m guessing that’s a ton of ya’lls lives.

I vote we quit and move to an island somewhere.

Who’s with me?

 

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