Summer is Here!

Lots to report, not a lot of time in which to report it. We have been down to one computer for some time now as the teaching jobs keep rolling in. Mister Pickering spends about 50 hours a week at work here at the Pickering Family Command Center. Some of those hours are spent conducting evening lectures from his laptop.

SO less time for blogging, but in an Oconomy where jobs are becoming ever more scarce (unemployment now at 9.4% nationally, with long term unemployment the highest since 1948!!!), we are tremendously thankful for each and every opportunity to engage in honest toil. He is now employed by eight universities, four strictly online, four with actual campuses... campi? What's the correct plural here?

First, I would like to dwell on The Amazing Ankie

He now insists on using utensils to eat with. I can't tell you how proud and thankful I am that he voluntarily chose to do this.

I have this feeling about family meal times... best described as ARRRGH!!! Our boys are in the process of learning to eat like humans, a skill which requires one to consistently maintain the seatedness of one's posture, refrain from shoving/tossing/smearing food anyplace that isn't one's mouth, speak in a moderated tone of voice, avoid spillage, and generally abstain from handling food with one's hands.

Lately every meal has been a battle royal over one or all of these requirements. However, we persevere, and try to look at each run-in as yet another opportunity.

Freed from the fetters of meal time, Bam-Bam races for the tar pits to club a few dinosaurs

George is like the wind. Though he himself may not be visible, the effects of his presence definitely are.

Blowing bubbles on a rainy day.

The pool opened on Memorial Day, and this week we finally went swimming. After fifteen minutes, it started raining cats and dogs. Just figures...

It is not often that the Sons of Pickering are reluctant to risk life and limb, but something about all that water was really creepy to them.

King George was not at all sure that this form of riparian entertainment was his cup of tea.

Even Sir Franklin the Fearless showed signs of concern

Why the life jackets? If you knew my children better, you wouldn't ask such a silly question. They cannot be trusted, and until they can swim, they will have life jackets.

However, they soon adjusted and enjoyed themselves for the brief time we had. George noticed the pack of college aged boys on the far side of the pool doing cannon balls. "Look at those Daddies! They be makin' big pashes!"

Ankie LOVES sitting in George's chair. Here, he is 'praying'. He is determined to be a big boy too.

The poor wee lamb is teething, and thus has a perpetually runny nose. He has learned to shove one finger up a nostril and shoot snot rockets out the other, in order to breathe better... a dubious talent, but if it makes him feel better... why not?

We had a nice little picnic at Mason's Mill Park

The spring rains have flooded part of the park, and George made the most of it.

I love watching George walk.

As he ran through the puddles he was singing a song to himself "I runnin' in MUD I plashing in PUDDLES wif mine CROCKS and mine SOCKS on!"

Do NOT refer to his Crocks as 'shoes'. He will inform you in no uncertain terms that "Dese not mine shoes, dese mine CROCKS." Occasionally he also finds it neccesary to remind you that "Dese mine Crocks from OMA."

His running is even funnier than his walking

It's safer than it looks

Anecdotals:

On the way downstairs one day George found a wilted geranium stem. He loves smelling flowers, and shoved it right up to take a deep breath. "Dis one YUCKY!" he said, casting the offending bloom from him. "Dis fower mells like money. It yucky." Near the car he found a clump of clover blossoms, and took a wiff of them. "Mmmm... Dis one mell good. It mells like ANTS." I had no idea that ants and money had a smell, but apparently they do!

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I brought a picture book about George Washington home from the library. It was a big hit, and now George constantly requests "The story bout BIG, TALL, George Frosting!"

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Ankie and George inexplicably wound up in George's crib one afternoon. I came in looking for them, and George lost no time in announcing that "We getted in all by we selves!"

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George associates Pop's church with pirates. Why? I found out why last week in church. We sang a song that used the word 'treasure'. Suddenly George (who sings at an embarrassingly loud level) started chorusing "YO HO WAY WE GO I PIRATE I GETTING TWEASURE YO HO YO HO!" with gusto.

I asked the pew to open up and swallow me, but it didn't. We must have sung a song with the word treasure in it at Pop's church, and that is the reason he always says the pirates are going to Pop's church.

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I trudged in to get George out of bed on morning, clad in my yellow terry cloth robe. Usually I wear my green fleece, but I couldn't find it that morning. George's first words?

"Don't wear lellow one. NO! I not like it! Go wear green one! It soft!"

He didn't want to get out of bed until I'd put the soft one on. Why?!

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