Sunday, September 19, 2004

Johnny Appleseed was here....

Yes, he was. No, not in the recent past -- but he did walk these parts years ago. He left many wonderful apple trees in his path. Johnny is gone now. His burial site is downtown, in a beautiful park. Many people visit his burial plot and leave apples. Yeh, kinda strange especially when those symbolic apples quickly rot - but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

In honor of Mr Appleseed, our town throws a huge festival in September. We love our Johnny man! We love this festival. It is period authentic, meaning very pioneer themed, both in food and dress. If you want to sell something at this festival, you better being wearing the grubs to prove it! In fact, look for me (Mama Rockett) to be donning a bonnet and long calico dress next year as I join the ranks of vendors. And no, there will be no pictures to share! Bug Eyed

So, why am I telling you about Mr Appleseed and this festival? Well, because you care about us and want to know our lives, remember? I mean, that is why you are reading this journal, right?


We spent the afternoon at the festival. We had caramel apples, apple cider, apple butter, apple chips, cornbread (yeh, I know -- we are rebels) and apple pie. We also purchased 5 pounds of Courtland apples -- the best darn apples around these parts! Apple

On the way home we stopped at Kohl's to buy Miss Gracie a new ballet leotard and birthday dress. There were no cute, age appropriate dresses -- so we settled on a nice skirt and top. What is with some of these clothes makers?! I want my little girl to actually *look* like a little girl, not a mini adult! Geesh.

And hey, don't ever doubt the excitement to be had at Kohl's ! I nearly killed myself on the escalator. Oh okay, I didn't almost die -- but almost broke my leg. Yes, really! You had to see me, I must have been a site. Not a pretty site, but a site nonetheless.
Wanna hear the story? No? Too bad. I'm the one typing, so I get to share!Computing

We had the boys in the double stroller, chomping on some crackers - slurping on juice (what a life!). We head over to the elevator because we are dependable, responsible adults -- we follow signs and rules. No stroller on the escalator. Remember that has you continue to read.
We come to another sign. On the elevator. Seems it is not working today. Wires and cables are showing. It looks like a deathtrap. Little did I know I was to find out the real deathtrap in my path....
We try to find another way upstairs but aren't real successful. Instead of wasting more time we decide to take the boys OUT of the stroller and use the escalator. First scary thing occurs. The boys are now out of the stroller -- not buckled up -- in a large store -- with lots of clothing racks -- with sticky hands and crumbs on their bodies. Afraid We continue. We are brave.
Jeff has the boys. I have the stroller. The stroller barely fits, but I am determined. We manage. All goes well until it is time to come back down stairs.....
We take the boys back out of the stroller (see, we are consistent in our efforts) and resume our taks with the boys and stroller. I get the stroller on the moving deathtrap with little effort. We are moving down, down, down (I should have seen a pattern here) and when the time comes to get the stroller OFF the moving steps -- the stroller declares it's independence and REFUSES to move. The stairs however continue to move. I am pinned. I am not moving. People behind me are pushing into me, I am panicking and Jeff is scrambling to help me. He yanks on the stroller and I am set free. All is fine. I have a sore ankle and skinned foot. The stroller is banged up by one of the wheels, but still works well. Honestly, I was more concerned with the stroller. A twin momma NEEDS her stroller!!
I plan on documenting this lesson in movement/force as a homeschool lesson. Laugh


Are you still reading? Are you shaking your head at me? Oh come on, I know you are. Admit it. This family is full of goofballs and today, I am Chief Goofball. Goofy


It is now almost 11 o'clock at night. The house is quiet. I am heading off to bed in a few minutes. Before I sign off for the night, let me reflect on my sweet Gracie. She will be 6 tomorrow. It is a cliche', but I find myself wondering *how* she turned 6 when I was just kissing her little baby fingers yesterday. Sigh.

Best wishes and lots of love to all of you.
Kim