King Jayden of Hot Sauce

As she uses her sceptre on his head, Lilly laughs and says,  "You are the King."

Jayden, eating chili earlier in the day says,  "GrammyPam, I don't even taste the hot sauce.  I just taste chili.  So much hot sauce,"  (and he shakes the bottle to get more droplets out).

"So it's very hot?

Jayden comes around the pony wall, running his hand from his chin down his neck, "GrammyPam, it burns all the way down my throat.

I thought I could be the king of hot sauce.

But, no, I'm the prince."

He comes at me with his orange bowl of chili, "Here, GrammyPam, taste this, it's not very hot."

"No way, Jayden, I can't take hot sauce of any kind, not gonna happen."

He goes back to the table, takes a bite.

Takes another bite.  I hear....

'Cough'

'Cough'

And his final declaration, "At least it's not killing me, I'm getting stronger cuz what's not killing me makes me stronger." 

"I Want To Lay In The Grass"

                                                                                               

I want to lay in the grass. I used to. I used to lay on my tummy, arms crossed under my chin and watch the ants. 

 

Ants follow each other. I knew that before I could read because I watched them. One ant carried a white ball, same size as his head, up a green blade of grass. Up. Up. Up. He got to the tip, the blade bent, and down he went. All very interesting.

 

Once Mom poured boiling water on a pile of coffee grounds under the clothesline. It was ants. Guess she didn’t like them crawling up her bare skinny legs while hanging clothes.

I used to not care. Laying in the grass, I’d uncross one arm, reach for my sandwich, take a bite, then lay it down again on the grass. I used to not care about that!

 

Did you know some grass is soft? It was soft at my childhood home. Not here. Here it’s stickery, hard and there’s patches of crusty brown dirt between clumps of bushy grass. But some grass is soft. I know.

I used to lay in grass without a shirt on. Before I got too old for such things I used to ride my trike and lay in clover without a shirt on. Uncle Paul found a four-leaf clover in our soft grass, so I lay in it to get a closer look to find my own four-leaf clover. He was lucky.

 

Instead I found a rolly-polly bug crawling along so I poked him. He curled into a ball! That was funny. Another bite of sandwich. This one full of peanut butter and jelly. I’ll need a drink soon.

Remember not caring? Mom took care of everything. She’d even bring me a glass of red kool-aid before I knew I wanted a drink.

 

I used to lay in the grass until my nose would stop up and I’d have to open my mouth to breathe. Old people hang their mouth open to breathe. Mom said not to do that. She never said, “Don’t lay your sandwich on the ground.” but she did say, “Don’t drop your mouth open - you don’t want to look old.”

After that, they said I had asthma, I couldn’t lay in the grass.

 

Maybe now I want to be out of body. Our bodies are just dirt anyway and they’re going to go away, so I want to be out of body, no pain in the muscles, no pain in the heart, no pain to reason away in the head, just floating and flying with arms as rudders and thoughts as navigation. What fun to fly free and exist without body. No worries, like not worrying about wearing a shirt because I’m a girl.

 

I never had a girl. I had all boys. They love to play in the dirt and lay in the grass. One laid in the grass with a yellow downy duck on his chest. I have a picture. Another laid in the grass laughing while his puppy licked his face. Then they took a nap.

 

Maybe I’ll have a girl grandchild and we can lay in the grass. 

She’ll not worry about a shirt 

and I’ll not worry about the dirt. 

I’ll show her how to make a grasshopper spit. 

And how to lay in the grass, not sit.

I want to lay in the grass. I used to.

Decapitation - Here's the Line - Lilly, Jacob, Jayden

 He was lying limply on the ground, with his shoulders against the big maple tree.  Decapitated.  No longer swinging by a rope from the leafy branch.

I asked Miss Lilly, "How'd skeley get a severed head?"

Jacob gave a couple of hearty swings with his yard stick, proof of action.

Lilly answered, "We were too strong with our magical powers."  

***

Later, up on the deck, Jayden told his cousins, "See this line?

And see this line and this line?" as he drew his finger up and down and across his abs.  ABS?! Shoot, he's only ten.  But he's explaining to his playmates ... 

"I have a 6 pack!"

"WE DIDN'T DO A THING!" NOT!

 "We didn't do a thing!"  NOT!

No one ever asked, "What did you do today?"  

But I'll tell YOU.   "Seriously," it was "awesomesauce".

There was Totoro coloring pages, for one.  I'm so old I used to color Raggedy Ann and Barbie doll pictures, you dig?  It was hip!  

My boys colored Power Rangers and Pokemon, they were phat and bad!  Cool beans!

Then the grandkids came along and it was "Print Baby Shark!"  No more coloring books, use the computer to select an image, then print.  They learned fast.  It was slay and it was extra, chuckle.

I'd just gotten used to Bluey and Paw Patrol when the oldest asked for Totoro!  "Totoro?  What's a Totoro?"

Whatever it is, it's not savage but it still might be cool.  So, I went internet searching.

"Totoro is a massive cuddley creature befriended by two sisters that moved into a new house."

So, GrammyPam prints off coloring pages of Totoro.

This was after we'd been to church for some prepping for upcoming pitch-in dinner day where the grandkids played legos, the organ, and pretend library.  

Once home we ALL played army with little green men.  

Miss Lilly's commentary on Jacob's battle plan, "His way is usually "He has to win".  If he loses, he cries.  I tried it."

I laughed at the "I tried it."  LOL.

Lunch time rolled around, they didn't like my food choices.  

Jacob was firm, "You know what you do for me... You feed me spaghetti.  I'm a spaghetti boy!  You feed me spaghetti everyday!"

Well, you can blame Papaw John, he started it.  But I laughed at Jacob's tone of voice and choice of words,  LOL.

Later, snack time, Jacob says "I want a sausage." 

I suggested 1, 2, 3, 4, different items instead; I was thinking they probably needed a fruit.  

He's quick.  Not gonna pull the wool over his eyes, "Did we forget our sausage?"

At Dollar General on the way home from church I bought a wooden skeleton that had movable arms.  It inspired Lilly to get the broom out,  "Fly, broom!  I'm a witch."  And I look over the pony wall.

"I'm sorry, GrammyPam, I can't fly.  I forgot how to fly."

I laughed at the "I forgot" as if she used to know.  LOL.

The day was filled with trying to trap kitty.  Swinging.  Pulling out the garden hose which "rained" on each other.  They tried to catch a butterfly, actually, she caught several.  We put sticks in a bucket, and mid-afternoon they watched cartoons.  Then it was back to the garden hose and turning the dirt mound overcome with weeds into a dirt mound again, like it was supposed to be. 

I dug.  He yanked.  I chopped at the roots.  Jacob heaved weeds with dirt ball into the trash tote.

"GrammyPam, I'm sta-wrong!"

"Yes, you are.  Quite the helper."

I'm gassing up Labor Day.  Totally worth while, totally!

Sparrows & Me Verses Cicadas!

I need a lie detector!  I need a bug exorcist!

Cicadas appear every August.  Someone said they only come every 17 years.  NOT!  They come every year!  

They love the 70 foot maple tree in the front yard.  It was a sapling we transferred here from our first house in Elwood.  Now, it's 9 ft. in diameter and a story taller than our 2 story house!  

Those chunky many-colored cicadas get so loud in the afternoon that I have to shut the screen and sliding glass door.  No enjoying the great outdoors with a good book, or a cup of coffee.  As the saying goes, "You can't even hear yourself think!"

"It's an incessant cadence of high-pitched, shrill sounds," says Purdue University website, and boy, ain't it the truth.

Sometimes, in frustration, I scream back at them, LOL.  Can't you just see a 70 y.o. woman on her front deck, face upwards, yelling at insects that haven't got a brain.  (Don't say it!  No, don't you say it!  Don't you dare say anything about my brain!)

Curious, I went online searching for cicada predators and other ways to deal with their mind-altering noise.

Come to find out they are disturbed by changes in light and movement, and that "playing the sounds of sparrows, which are natural predators, might cause them to temporarily become quiet or relocate."  Yay!  A possible solution!

Song birds are hesitant to hang around here due to the resident feline, Ruger.  But I got an idea.  Yep.  I did.  Youtube.com had many selections of sparrow songs and calls.  LIVE!  Yay!  Some for 3 minutes, some for 9 minutes, and even one for 10 hours.  Another, yay!

Now, how to do it.  

So, I set this up.  Open laptop, select video, set on picnic table, hit start, sit back, observe.

  Lo and behold, 3 things happened!

Strange birds, as in I hadn't heard them in a long-long time, came to the treetop and added to the orchestra, tweet-tweet-tweet!  Chirp-chirp.  Coo-oo-Coo-oo.

The cicadas stopped their raucous.

Ruger cat came around - investigating.  First, meandering around the deck.  Then curling the table legs.  Jumping up onto the bench, and then the tabletop.  Finally, she sat down right next to the computer on the picnic table.  I wasn't fast enough to take that picture but you can imagine.  She just sat there, head slowly turning left and right, eyes scanning-scanning, and her little butt butted up to the side of my Mac laptop.

There was a feast to be had.  She thought a sumptuous meal was forthcoming.  Ruger was pouncy-ready. 

Hey, listen!  Did you hear that?  Did you hear what I said?  The cicadas stopped their raucous! 

I win!

Sparrows & Me verses Cicadas - I WIN!  Whoo-hoo!

Where's that coffee and my book?  Scanning-scanning ...

A Sunday Double - Jayden Animals & Grandkids Key

 

Four Grandkids Trying Keys, Blue Girl Bent Down Sorting Keys

JAYDEN ANIMALS

On the way to church, I had Jayden and Noelle in the backseat riding with me.  Jayden is only 10 but he always engages adults in talk.  I would suppose it's because he's the oldest and has always been treated older than he is.  New parents do that, we all know.

Anyway, from the backseat as we're driving up State Road 37, he brings up a big subject.  He states, "Animals are dangerous to us."

He says it very fast speaking, all knowing, and extremely confident.

So, I give him something to think about, "We're dangerous to animals because we eat them."

Okay, he's down with that, he says, "My favorite is pig."

He doesn't say pork loins or bacon, he says pig which makes me smile.  I'm silently thinking, "Yah, and your dad looks at cows walking by and thinks "STEAK!"  His dad told me that years and years ago.

Sitting next to Jayden, his younger sister, Noelle, can't be left out, she chimes in, adding her 2 cents worth, "Yah, and I love elephant ears!"

GRANDKIDS KEYS

The grandkids discovered my garage sale I had set up, and they wanted things.  Since it was getting closer to the time their parents should arrive, we struck a deal.  They would clean up a room or a particular mess, or outside picnic table and toys, and I would give them 25 cents or 50 cents according to the job.  They earned dollars.  One earned $2.  

They were then welcome to purchase things from my sale.  It worked out pretty well until, especially the little ones, they made a mess in the garage.  Tumbled down linens, toys chosen and discarded, and items displaced, so I locked the door.  They were done anyway, having already spent their money, LOL. 

 

Right before the parents decided "It's time to go" they asked if they could have a sucker.  Sure.  Why not.  And I should say here, that I keep them in the freezer and they know EXACTLY where they're at - - in the garage in the freezer.

"But, GrammyPam, the door is locked."

"Go find the key and unlock it."

That became a mystery, a puzzle, a challenge.  They began using my stash of keys to see if they could unlock it.  They tried keys to the back door, plastic toy keys, keys to a child's dollhouse, keys to the skid steer, and the key to the barn.  But they never did see the keys hanging on the pantry door.

After letting them try this key and that, and after much discussion and cooperation on their parts, I intervened.  You have to intervene before frustration gets too high or it escalates.

I walked in there, reached up, and jangled them down.  They all stood there gobsmacked with their little mouths open, and utterances of surprise.  

The adults just sat back watching and laughing.  Once the door was unlocked, It was an onslaught down those steps to open that white chest to the sweet prizes!

Those kids are something else!  They sure love suckers! 

Hee, hee, hee, and so do I!

Walking in Son-light / Jacob on a Walk

"GOOD MORNNG!  Walking in Son-light!"

 

Miss Lilly and Master Jacob, the grandkids, were here for most of Saturday from noon to night.  We did fun things like drawing monsters, and voting on our favorites.  Then playing army men who got grenaded and tank-turret-gun shot with casualties piled in the middle.  Dollhouses with tea sets were set up and filled up and laid out for everyone to sip.  

But my favorite was little Jacob discovering I was walking to the mailbox.  She and he were watching a kids movie and I thought they were occupied when I told them what I was doing.  Halfway down the long curved drive, I turn back to a little squeaky voice, imploring, "I wanna come, GrammyPam."  

 

And there he is trying his best to catch up to me without shoes.  The preschooler was navigating the gravel driveway one cautious step at a time.  He was gingerly stepping with hands slightly outstretched for balance.  I weighed the pros and cons of waiting or not, how fast he could get to me, my patience, his determination, and decided to walk back to him, "Go get your shoes on, little buddy, I'll wait."

 

It was worth it.  He's at that great age to take a walk with -- spying things in the grass, raising his head to look for a barking dog, digging up "special" rocks from the drive, and picking up two sticks.

"This one is a sa-word!" he lunged the straighter one.

 

Once we got to the curb I had to caution him on the dangers of the county road.  And taught him never go past this point.

Like any 5 year old, he bounced both to and fro.

 

Later, the little booger went upstairs and discovered my stash of animated Christmas characters!  How'd he do that?  WHEN!  Not only that, he was able to reach up and GET THEM AND carry them downstairs while I was in the bathroom.  This pic only shows two, but he brought down all 5!  The little industrious imp!

His world is enlarging and he's getting bigger.

In the meantime, walks are great!