Floors, heat, friends, and the dreaded impetigo.

Renovations to the house continue. Slowly. I have a floor in the living room again, Sheetrock has started to go back up, and if temps cool enough, I’m going to try my hand at matching texture on the ceiling in the utility room and bathroom. The 92° in my house currently doesn’t have me thrilled to climb a ladder just yet.

I told Blaine I was miserably hot the other day. “We could turn on the air conditioner,” he said. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It makes outside no fun, kids don’t want to play outside, it means closing up windows and curtains, and a higher electric bill. We all tolerate heat so much better when we’re not switching from cold to hot. I’ll just sweat, thanks.

The well pressure tank joined the list of unexpected replacements this week. It wasn’t the well pump thankfully, but man. More money.

Impetigo has struck again. Lachlan started it last week. Creed, Charlotte, and Stellan joined the ranks this week. I also have it on my face. The nurse said Creed’s was the worst she’d seen. Natural methods failed and the row of antibiotics is long. I hate going there, but I’m thankful for them. Lach looks worlds better after a week. Creed was complaining about sores rubbing on his clothes and has resorted to running around naked. “If someone pulls in the yard, you have to run to the back of the house as fast as you can and stay there. No one needs to see you nakey.” Chalk that up to things I didn’t know I’d ever need to say. Our property is exceptionally private, thankfully!

Life continues to be hard and good and full of so many unknowns. Blaine celebrated his birthday this past week and we got to spend some time with him at the creek near his work. A friend’s teen son came and helped with floors and mulch and the kids went swimming and fishing and frog gigging. It was just as good to get a few projects finished as it was to watch my teens enjoy a friend’s company. Sterling sees the ortho doctor tomorrow and is hoping to get clearance to walk without crutches in the big boot they gave him. He’s been caught a dozen times a day without the crutches. Dumb, but what do I know? He’s got things to do.

Creed: “you know that foam box that we put eggs in and it makes chicks? Can we do that and make some chicks?”

Also Creed: he cut a box that was set apart for packing and when asked why he cut it, he said “Because I was being naughty, that is for sure.”

Creed’s a fun one. Funny. So lovable and full of hugs and snuggles. And so, so naughty. He’s into everything. He cannot help himself. If it looks interesting, he has to touch it. Break it. Take it apart. Pick at it. Cut it. Color it. He’s fun. Hard. But fun.