there's no place like gnome.

We had visitors a few weeks ago. Dave’s sister & kids, along with his parents, came to stay with us for a night. We played outside. We ate pizza. We visited the lighthouse and the park. There was a movie projected on the ceiling while laying on an air mattress and there were water beads. It was fun to show them around and let them explore the place we now call home.

Top left: Sidewalk chalk.
Top right: The nephews enjoy Dave’s latest game.

Bottom left: Niece E. crafting in the sunroom. A gal after my own heart.
Bottom right: Enjoying a snack while at the park.

Please be warned that what you’re about to see may shock you. It may hurt your eyes. You may feel dizzy. This is what the stairway to our basement looks like now, in addition to much of the basement floor —

It’s been Dave’s dream to have black light bowling alley carpet in his pinball lair. This is his dream come true. After they finished installing the carpet, Dave was just giddy. He continues work with lighting and electrical and then – hopefully soon – the arcade will materialize.

On the first floor of the house, this is the current state of our full bathroom. The new vanity and counter is in the garage; tile is stacked in the hall. Light fixture and faucet arriving this week. Here we go!

Emmett’s had bunches of fun lately. We’ll begin with his destructive side.

Many week ago now, Emmett and I got home from our typical lunchtime walk. I fixed myself lunch and sat down to eat up. The windows were open and both of our ears perk up to a ruckus outside. Emmett takes off at doggy speed; I follow at human speed. I come to the front door to find this —

Emmett had literally jumped through the screen door. To be fair, the screen was old and already pushed out. Apparently, Emmett had no trouble finding a new route outside where he found another dog – IN HIS YARD – running away from his owner up the street. It took a moment before I was able to grab Emmett but, thankfully, both dogs – as they frolicked around each other – didn’t leave the yard. Inside we went and to Ace Hardware went the screen door to be repaired.

On a less destructive note, Emmett has a new ride. Dave and I had always joked about getting a bike trailer – you know, the ones made for kids – for Emmett to ride around in while we went for bike rides. Lo and behold, a bike trailer – one actually designed for dogs – popped up on the Facebook marketplace. On a whim, not knowing if he would even like it, I jumped on it and had it in the back of my car by that evening.

There was an adjustment period but now HE LOVES IT. He is most certainly living his best life, head hanging out, breeze in his mustache. We find ourselves on many more bike rides now.

We camped this last weekend in Edgerton. It was super hot so we basically hung out in the air conditioned camper and in air conditioned relatives’ houses. We did go to A&W for the classic drive-up eating experience where Emmett got ice cream. ICE CREAM. We also went to my friend Krissy’s house for a pool party. He decided to jump in and then was terrified. Can you see how he is almost on top of Dave out of fear? (We think he might like swimming if he has a way out of the water. Not so much in a pool.)

I went strawberry picking today.

What am I going to do with the berries? No idea, really. But it felt right to jump in the car this morning and drive to the nearest pick-your-own patch.  My local weather app said the rain would’t start until the afternoon but the sky grew darker as I drove. I still managed to pick a fairly full box before the rain began.

Strawberry picking is just one of those things I love to do. Summer doesn’t feel right if it doesn’t happen. It’s most likely because I grew up doing it. I remember going with my friend, Lynn, when we were in high school. I’d bring the berries home and make strawberry pies and freezer jam until the counters were full. I remember once, before I was able to drive, when my Grandma Vera was sick and unable to pick herself, she drove me to the patch and sat in the car while I picked her ice cream buckets of berries for her. I’m pretty sure the jam-making drive came from her.

I’m okay with that. Dave is too. I’ve finally convinced him that strawberry rhubarb jam is something to be revered and enjoyed. Perhaps another batch is in my future.