Don't you love the days when things go right. I'm not talking about those big-we-got-a-new-fill in the blank days. Just the simple days when good things happen and you have the presence of mind to drink it in. I had one of those recently. It started out with a good nap from my little Mite. This is no small miracle, as last weekend he learned how to climb out of the crib. So The Prof and I took an hour out of the afternoon to assemble the "no tools required" netting to contain him. Well, no tools were required, but it would have helped if they labeled the thing with front and back, so we didn't have to do it twice while Jack Be Nimble was busy perfecting his in and out routine. Now that it is together I recognize this as THE baby toy I wanted 4 babies ago, the one I wish my Mom could have had. So now he is napping away. So I got busy with the peaches from the tree in our yard (our house is not without it's perk). Since we don't spray, they get a bit buggy. So many just get skinned and diced up for pies and the freezer. I dunk them in hot water for a couple minutes and then in cool to help get the skins off. Then I made a pie and tucked it in the over. Don't I feel June Cleaverish.

So much so that I want to tackle the garden today. I'm not much of a gardener, flower or vegetable. But my hope is to eventually have a colorful perennial garden. Reality is that my back bed has been ignored in favor of pouring my limited attention to the front bed. Don't even talk to me about our weed Field where others would grow grass. It is so bad it has embarrassed Half Buck since he was 9. Anyway, the garbage can didn't have much in it. So Buck and I hauled it out back and he willingly helped me weed and pick up for half an hour. Two Bits joined in when I offered him the little clipper to dead head the flowers. Of course he cleared a whole big patch down to the ground. But he liked those clippers. After a little more training, he was dead heading the front beds too. So the garbage is filled to the brim, the weeds are less monstrous, Two Bits glasses bill is diminishing and it is time to have some fun now.

I think the best part of it for me was helping Cents learn to Jump Rope. The Prof and I went out with the new rope and Two Bits and Mite. Two Bits jumps like a pro and wants to learn to double dutch. Apparently Grandma Buck used to jump double dutch, but I never saw this. Of course Mite wanted to get into this act with helping twirl the rope, trying to jump. Have you ever seen a toddle try to get airborn? It is so funny. Gravity has a firm grasp on this little tyke, so he wasn't getting much about the rope lying on the ground. Eventually we distracted him enough to let Cents give it a go. Seeing her face shine when she finally got it was so fun. All the songs and chants for jumping rope are struggling to come back. So leave me a comment if you remember some for me.

The Jumbo Gyppy

We had a family reunion recently and had such fun. It was basically just the 11 kids, spouses, and grand kids with my Dad at the park. But it was our park, across the street. Only our park has grown up too and looks nothing like we remembered. I'm telling you it went in for the tummy tuck, the face lift and the nose job. The playground, the pool, the building, the tennis courts had all been completely ripped out and rebuild. Looking back across the street to our house and neighbors the transformations was about as remarkable. I grew up on a cookie cutter street where 8 out of 10 houses were the same. Now they had different porches, siding and windows and didn't match my memories. All but one had been updated. So three things looked the same on that side of the street: The Macks, our birch trees, and the fire hydrants. But it is still sitting across the street from the old homestead. Dad likes to call that the orphanage.

During our cloudy and sprinkling off and on reunion we heard the ice cream truck go by the orphanage and a whole set of stories came out. According to my dad, one day a man asked to park in front of the house and was a bit apologetic about it. To be nice he offered to buy ice cream for the kids. So my dad smiled and said sure. He called into the house and out popped 11 kids who had just been offered free ice cream. Now that is expensive parking. Sister Mary 1 was recalling how the truck used to be a Jumbo Ice cream truck, and my Dad thought it was a gyp. So they became the Jumbo Gyppy in my family. I don't really remember calling it that. But all memories are not shared as the generations move through a big family. As one of the littles, I can remember talking an older sister or brother into treating or talking Mom into opening her mad money purse in the kitchen cabinet to splurge on ice cream. I do remember begging to work with the ice cream man and riding with another friend in the back and fetching the ice cream for half a day or something that approximated an eternity. I was cured of work for quite awhile after that.

I suppose I will share one more Ice Cream Truck story. My kids once heard one coming and began the begging for money. Now with 5 kids, we don't always have a lot of cash to spare. In fact, why do the kids now always have more cash than I do? But this was before all that. So I simply told my little Buck and Half Buck that when the music was playing, they were out of icecream. Horrible I know. Thankfully they've forgotten. But God bless the sister that won't let me live it down : )