This is what we spent most of our weekend doing. Cleaning up the yard and installing our “accent wall” in the back yard. It will look better when I get the flowers in the baskets, but that’s the gist of it. We’ve also made a whole bunch of progress in our unpacking adventure. I have both bathrooms completely unpacked and put away and the living room is relatively organized. Well as organized as it can be I guess while we’re still finishing walls and what nots.
Nora and I have been spending practically every afternoon in the pool. Just our little wading pool in the back yard, but Nora absolutely loves it. She will sit there and splash until her toes turn pruney and she starts to get a chill. She also got the good Cherokee genes from Kevin and tans like its her job. I lather her up in sun screen every time we got outside, and we’re never out there for more than an hour at a time yet she has changed two shades already. Lol. Spunky, Tall, thin, blonde, and tan. Kevin and I have our work cut out for us when she gets older.
Bah, I know it’s all an important part of growing up, but I really dread the day when she gets her heart broken for the first time, and looses her innocence. The real world is full of lonely heart breaks, and if I could protect her from it and still have a functioning member of society when she reaches adulthood I would. But even if I were to lock her away in a tower some Prince Charming would break through and burst the bubble.
I have YEARS before this even becomes and issue, and I don’t really know why I even think about it other than I have way too much time on my hands to let my mind wander aimlessly into weird depressing tangents lol. I guess it’s because I can see so much of myself in her, and I remember those days of exuberant enthusiasm I had for life and the blind trust I had for people, and each moment where it was slowly but surely taken away to leave this slightly bitter darkness. It doesn’t consume me, but I’ve had people tell me that it’s there. Which is odd that it’s so obvious to other people, when I think I’ve squelched it quite well.
I guess it comes with being a brooding artist. Lol I mean authors are dark and broody. Unless they’re writing some get rich quick thing. Even the authors who write the inspiring self help stuff have been through the situations they are writing about. Maybe it’s not the darkness IN us, but a sensitivity to the darkness AROUND us? Instead of stuffing down the feelings and burying them under this fake exterior we tackle them head on?
Anyway, enough of that. Lol. It’s time for me to wake the Little so we can go to the store. Until later Bloggies 🙂