What’s Going on Around Here, Anyway? volume 1-25

By dramamamafive January 7, 2025 Uncategorized No Comments

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Inwhich I attempt to play catch-up of the past few months, for my enduring gentle readers.

Pourquoi the ennui?

Gentle Readers. You’ve been so kind and understanding of my skittley-skattley mode of posting, that is to say, its seldomness. (The online editor is telling me that I’m making up words, but I’m defying it. Enough! say I. I WILL BE ME. dang it.) I haven’t written regularly in a long time. And I haven’t written a “What’s Going on Around Here, Anyway?” post in—-an AGE. Possibly, two.

You may ask, and well that you do: Why no writing, Amy? Does nothing happen at your place any longer? Did somebody throw your laptop away?

I’m not sure what the answer is to that pertinent question. Except that every time I sat down to write, I was filled with uncertainty and ennui. I was trying hard to understand what was happening to the world. I still am, actually. Are you? Anyway, I lost my mojo, gentle reader. My mojo was nowhere to be found. Hidden mojo. Poor l’il mojo. Lost.

Remember this word?

en·nui

noun

a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.

“he succumbed to ennui and despair”

A Miracle!

But–thankfully!–my mojo is pushing and prodding me again. It is beating back the ennui. Back, ennui, back! It persists. Life continues on, doesn’t it, through upheavals and confusing historical periods (through which I believe we are living). I am eager to catch up, to share things that I’m learning, and to pop back into your inbox from time to time.

Sooo…here’s the first in a long time….

What’s Going On Around Here, Anyway?

1. Little Mack…

(I know…I DID NOT TELL HIM HE COULD DO THIS!)

…has been Big Mack now for some time. He’s a full foot taller now than your gentle blogger (i.e. his longsuffering mama). He is tossing around ideas about possibly going to college next year, after all.

For years and years, his regards to attending college has been thus: “NO, I’M NOT GOING to COLLEGE, MOM, PLEASE DON’T ASK ME AGAIN!” Then, one day, it changed: “MAYBE I’ll do a year or two at a trade school, to learn a trade, that’s it, but for the last time, NO NO NO on COLLEGE, MOM!! NOOOO. Please, oh stinkin’ please don’t ask again. No.”

(So far, every one of his older brothers and sisters except one have gone to college and all of them are now married with children, and successful, independent, as is the one who didn’t attend college. So there is more than one way to skin a cat, or to prepare yourself for adulthood, we’ve seen. Praise God.)

Then one day something shifted again (I can’t keep up) and he started asking me about taking the ACT. One day, he demanded why we hadn’t made a transcript yet. “But, but, but––” I sputtered, confused. “I thought you weren’t considering college…??” “MAYBE I AM, Mom. Why am I so behind?? Shouldn’t I have taken the ACT, like, LAST YEAR? What about applying for scholarships?? Shouldn’t I have done that by now—“

Gosh, sure, yeah, I know! C’mon, mom, get with it! But I don’t have a crystal ball to have seen this coming, dear son. So we switched gears entirely, and Mack is applying to colleges (he took the ACT with very little preparation and did great–another miracle!) and is eager to study music (“and something more practical, besides,” he assures us).

Mack has worked with a local contracting company for the past couple of summers. They are great folks, pay well and he has a nice little nest egg saved up. For being a last-born, he’s exceedingly responsible and thoughtful. He also spends several hours a day practicing his beloved banjo, and is booking gigs, so if you are in the area, he and his banjo are in the market…

2. The Grandies Count

I feel a little sheepish to admit this, but we have been blessed with seventeen grandies (so far). They are the light of our lives. Four out of the five of our grown-up kiddos live close enough that we see them often. The other one is a day’s drive away, and we wish we could see them more often, of course.

Our kids have grown increasingly shy about allowing photos of their precious littles on the interwebs, so I will honor their requests and won’t post pictures here, as much as I’d like to. Occasionally I’ll share a photo, but only if their sweet faces are not very visible.

3. The Critters Count

Because of continuing predator pressure, I’ve stopped letting my flock free-range, unless I’m actually out watching them, or Scout is watching them. She loves watching the birds, but she barks so much that I’m a little sheepish to leave her out there too long. We do have neighbors, after all.

We still have three geese, five ducks, around a dozen chickens, and two turkeys.

The most beloved bird in the flock is Stella, a very tame white turkey, but the group of chickens who regularly fly over the fence and do whatever the heck they want to do (lay eggs in my hoophouse, scratch through my raised beds, roost outside if they take a notion, etc.) are a much-loved too. So–Helen, Lois, Ethel and Lucy–watch your backs and be careful out there!

4. Biscuit

I’ve forgotten just how much joy an engaging kitten brings to a home. We adopted a little silver tabby from a friend who found it lost at her place in the country, and already had her limit of kitties. Biscuit is funny, affectionate, beautiful, and prone to the zoomies when things get a little dull in the house. Bryan says she is only in the house temporarily, but I’m fine with her staying in here longer. She crawls up in my lap whenever I sit down, and, like an old lady with an almost-empty nest, I’m just fine with the company.

5. Other things

I’m hankering after one of these and soon, since I am going to need something a little bigger than my little wagon to haul flowers next summer;
I really really really want to build one of these in our woods, but as Bryan is totally apathetic to the charms and values of sauna, I’m not sure how I’ll accomplish it. He has no Swedish blood in him, you see.
If you’re a fan of these, they’re back!