Mailbox Baseball

It would appear we were the victims of a rousing game of Mailbox Baseball last night. For those of you who don’t know what this is, it is a “sport” typically practiced by suburban and rural teenage boys and involves driving by unsuspecting mailboxes during the night and then smashing them with a bat or other such instrument from the passenger side of the vehicle. It is done for fun. At some point during the night, Ben awoke to a low rumbling noise and then a profound thump and crash that shook the house. I will note that almost anything shakes our house as it is propped on a 260 year old foundation that needs more love than it has received in the last century or so. This event also verifies that I am a very deep sleeper.

Heirloom Spiders

Slowly getting used to our 292 year old house in the forest.  Little things like window blinds and Target and IKEA storage make things surprisingly reassuring.  The newness distracts me from the occasional squishy floorboard I sink into and the various wood and old smoke smells throughout the house.  The weird little window screens that we prop inside the windows are now only letting in half the bugs they were a week ago.  As a result, the moths are no longer flying directly into my forehead while I lay in the bed reading by the glow of my iPhone.  The urge to launder the bedding with DEET has passed with fewer morning mosquito bite discoveries.  The kids have finally discovered the yard with meandering paths, rock walls, old wells, and ferns.  I am slowly letting go of the fear that they will be crushed by the steel cage of a speeding Volvo which leaves room for the new fear of

read more Heirloom Spiders