It was a lovely day today -- balmy. Just 21 degrees and a light breeze. The perfect outside day to do just about anything. After Logan's nap this afternoon, Logan and I decided it would be a good idea to spend some time in the sandbox. Last week, the afternoons were too hot, we then had some rain... It was time!
We went to collect Carter from the neighbor's house. Seems they were indulging in a little child labour and had put the kid to work. I saw him hauling lumber for Opa. And there's nothing more Carter would rather do than work with his Dad or Opa. Or anyone who's engaging in outdoor work, for that matter. Sandbox time seemed like a good idea to Carter and we were off, Oma in tow; a cup of tea in hand. We're enjoying ourselves, blah, blah, blah... There was a potty accident, Carter and I go inside to clean up, Logan stays outside with Oma. Upon our return, Oma states there is mouse poop (it's MY blog. I can say poop, if I want to.) along the edge of the sandbox in the dirt. We clean up that potty mess and continue play.
Remember the hot weather, followed by rain? Okay, safe to say that Mike had not cut the lawn in a while due to the weather and the fact that he works rather late into the evening to start mowing 2.5 acres after work. So what do you think I saw scurrying along the side of the sandbox in the LOOONG grass? Rodents are so disgusting! But then we didn't see it; I poked the grass and there it went. I said, "Carter, jump into the sandbox!" but there he stood on the edge and there went the mouse between his legs. Carter's first encounter with a mouse. Did he scream! It was a very huge field mouse. very, very huge. (Perhaps even larger than the ones that habitate the King's campus. I'm just speculating, though.)
Enraged, Oma and I both went (each with a boy in tow) for a mouse trap. Oma felt two were needed for this endeavour. Mine was on the floor in the garage and had a mere smear of stale peanut butter on it from the last attempt at a mouse. Oma's was clean and gobbed with about a tablespoon of fresh gooey PB. Apparently, stale is better or maybe not because my trap caught the jumbo mouse in its jumbo butt. (You know what word I really wanted to use but I'll go easy since I've already peppered this entry with poop.) Y'know, mice don't die when pinched in the rump. Their eyes bulge but they do not die.
In the end, Carter returned to the sandbox (he had retreated to Opa's protection with Oma when she went for the trap. Opa is really squeemish of mice.), watched Oma squeeze the life out of the mouse with a paving brick and huck that rodent into the ravine. Oma is our hero today.
There was fun to follow our time in the sandbox. Goggles for ease of hair washing:
Carter's fogged up immediately but he wouldn't take them off for me to clear the lenses for him. Yes, they did make hair washing easier. Now if we could just make hair cutting easier!
Logan, sweet with ketchup.
Sweet 'n Silly, with ketchup.
Carter, camera shy -- not really.
Hot Wheel underpants, on the wrong end. He gets this from his father. I can say that because Mike rarely reads this blog. and it's true.
And this is what is keeping me sane of late. Look at all the order in my life! Beautiful stacks of precisely cut quilt squares. I'm nearly done cutting but so loving my quilting ruler, cutting mat and rotary cutter right now. Lovely and pieceful (lol!). I've had this Mary Engelbreit fabric lying around for a while. It's time to make something for just me. I'm so excited to start stitching!