As The Butter Churns

October 23rd Sweet Smell of Success

 (Mosquito Lake Road all dressed up)

    Irish is a life-size Winnie the Pooh only entirely too smart. Somehow he managed to figure out how to turn the spigot on the giant honey container we kept in the kitchen. Honey oozed everywhere. I only discovered it because I heard the repetitive smacking of happy dog lips coming from the kitchen. We no longer use that container – and rest assured it was only our personal honey.

 (retired honey bucket)

    To introduce Henry’s Sweet Miracle Honey™ and Henry’s Stingers™  Henry cheerfully made our display for the Everybody Store Cheese Fest. I gave him the basic information that needed to be included and he set to work drawing, printing, organizing and coloring.  Henry has to do almost all the work to give it that authentic “kid feel”. He created the honey display much the way he would have had it been for the Science Fair.

    At the same time Henry was cutting and pasting bee facts, I was staining and stuffing the Auction basket for the Humane Society. We were donating an oil painting (Tom did), some honey, some Stingers™ and a “Bee Experience” – an afternoon where the winning bidders get to come out and don bee suits, learn about hive life from Henry and Mike, tend to the bees and then extract honey from the comb and have it on some hot corn bread with lemonade.

 (Henry's pepper)

 (fresh from Michaels)

 (in progress)

 (Henry's Sweet Miracle Honey™ labels fresh off the printer from Tom)

 

 (Whoo hooo!)

 (Henry doing heat seals)

 (jars galore)

 

 

    To add another layer to an already busy night we had to put labels and safety seals on all the products. And- were also giving out Stinger™ straws for each plate at the $1000.00 a table Humane Society Masquerade Gala. Each person was to have a Stingers™ at the top of their dinner plate with a label tied on with a small portion of green pipe cleaner.  The labels were specially made with Chris's help directing the guests to our new website and encouraging them to enter their email addresses. It told of Henry’s desire to donate a portion of the profits to the preservation of honeybees and offered a chance to win stuff! I thought this was going to be wonderful. It was our big chance to get in front of more than 250 people not on food stamps that have an obvious concern for the environment and who participate and support local products. I was thrilled. Only FedEx did not deliver. Tom sent the labels two-day guaranteed delivery for 3:00PM. But they never arrived and what’s worse FedEx had no explanation as to why.

    “I’m sorry it looks as though the package has gone all over the place and has been in Seattle since 11:00 this morning.” A man said somewhat apologetically.

    “I saw that on the tracking information. My question is – why? I could have driven to Seattle and gotten them by now.” I was more than annoyed. My plans were going by the wayside quickly.

    “I have no idea why. I’m sorry, but the facility the package is at is just a sorting facility, they don’t deliver. I don’t know why it ended up there.

    “So that’s it then? I can’t even get them delivered to the event tomorrow?” I asked resigned.

    “Honestly, I doubt it. “ He said more apologetically. So at 7:00 PM after my fifteenth phone call I finally accepted the labels were going to spend another couple days in a warehouse in Seattle and I tried to figure out what to do next.

    Tom suggested sending the file to a Kinkos™ and trying to reprint and cut them all over again. That would cost a fortune and I had to be at the ding-dang Cheese Fest by 9:00AM. So I nixed this idea. Amy suggested we reconfigure a version of the Stingers™ label in Photoshop™ and print a placard for each table. That sounded good and Amy, Henry and I worked for quite a while on doing just that. Then my sister told me that was a no-go because you had to pay to do that as a sponsor. So in the end they got stuck in a vase without any real label other than “try one – spicy” and put next to our donation.  No one did. We got back almost as many as we sent.

 (Amy hanging out and getting wrangled in)

 (ready for the auction)

 

 (Henry and Mike, Tom's oil on raw burlap, Henry's Sweet Miracle Honey™ and Henry's Stingers™)

 (Lisa as the King of Pop and Chris as Julia Child on their way to the Humane Society Gala - Lisa is on the Board of Directors - did I mention Lisa can moonwalk?)

    Meanwhile back at the honey house Henry put the finishing touches on his display and together we double-checked our list of supplies we’d need to load in the van in the morning.

 (I didn't want to make a turkey out of myself and forget something)

 (Silence checking everything twice)

 (this is the result of a turkey stepping off the top of the rabbit hutch and on to my face - Richard lost his balance - nothing a little make-up wouldn't fix- lucky my eye didn't get any closer)

    Once at the Everybody Store, I set up the display and the rest was all Henry. He got into his beekeeper suit and went to work. Jeff moseyed out to see what all the fuss was about and gave it the skeptical once over. “Safety seals huh? Professional. Nice display” was all he said and went back inside with a jingle of the bells on the front door. I think he thought Henry would stick to it for about six minutes. But Henry is my child. He waved at cars motioned for them to come in and asked everyone who even came near the store if they would like to taste some of his “special” honey. He was like a Girl Scout selling cookies to the 4^th power.

    Every time someone rang up a jar of Henry’s I could hear Jeff mumble, “He’s sure selling a lot of honey.” This is primarily because Amy decided the store wouldn’t be involved in any of the honey money. Henry simply gave his honey customers a ticket, they paid at the register and then Jeff would give him / us cash at the end of the day. 

 (Henry working)

 (our tagline "Give bees a chance")

 (giving Stingers™ samples)

 (Henry and John from Peterson Cheese)

    The Cheese Fest rolled on quietly. There were cheeses aged in caves and cheeses with truffles and somehow Henry got the cheese expert, John, to drizzle Stingers™ on some of the brie. “It’s really good this way. I think I’m going to mention it to the chef at the Silver Reef Casino” the Peterson rep told me “Maybe Peterson should carry it.” He thought out loud.

    While in the midst of giving a sample of triple cream Bavarian Blue to a woman, I noticed a familiar face in the crowd. I looked at the woman, who smiled back at me and realized it was Roberta, my mail lady.

    “You weren’t home and this package needs a signature,” she explained as she patiently waited by the deli case. I was incredulous. I do live in Mayberry. FedEx left my package in some warehouse while my local post office stopped in at the Everybody Store Cheese Fest for my signature? My faith was restored. I thanked her profusely, signed for the package and tucked it behind Henry’s honey table for later. 

    At the end of the day, when I got off work, Henry was invited with the “Big boys” to go play handball. I cleaned up and loaded the van. Henry had sold two cases and Jeff asked to be cut in on the action for tomorrow. He wanted Henry back with his display. “The kid’s a shill,” Jeff grunted. This was high praise from Mr. Margolis.

 (a fiery display on the old Mosquito Lake Road)

    As Henry walked back from the handball court along side the railroad tracks, he looked very Opie Taylor and it warmed my heart. We head home and he was full of stories of customers and tastings. He suggested changes for tomorrow. He wanted more crackers and popcorn, the pears didn’t hold up throughout the day. “They started to get brown and people don’t like that.” He explained wriggling out of his bee suit. “Alexis said he couldn’t believe how much honey I sold. Maybe I can do this every weekend,” he said as Irish smelling honey sharked around the kitchen counter looking for his opportunity.

 (land shark)

October 21st Back To The Future

(My mother, after being 89lbs and in a wheelchair - fought her way back to go on a three-week safari)

Dear Mom,

    I’ve been feeling lost and alone lately and my friend, Sherry, from work suggested I write you a letter because I miss you so much. I wasn’t going to do it until this morning when I was in the laundry room and I could hear Irish climbing up on the kitchen counter to try and eat my English muffin. He didn’t see me so he thought I wasn’t anywhere around. Was he shocked. 

 (no dog should be this big)

 Anyway, it made me think of Corinthians  

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part,

But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I believe you’re around even though I don’t see you – like Peek-a-Boo

(my mom and me - playing peek-a-boo)

    I don’t know why people say time makes it easier, because it doesn’t. It’s just longer since I’ve heard your laugh or felt your arms. Well, here’s the long and the short of it Mama. I’m tired. I’m not the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep will cure, but the kind of depleted exhaustion that makes things feel hopeless. I question my choices. I wonder what you would tell me if you could. I listen for your voice.

    Where should I put my energy? What should I leave behind? My day begins at 5:00 AM. I get up and make lunches and spend a little time having a quiet cup of coffee. I need the time just to be alone. Then I wake up the boys and harangue them into getting ready. We feed the dogs, the cats and open up the barn to let the goats, sheep, geese, ducks and turkeys out. Except on the days we’re running late or it’s too dark like today.

    On the way to school, I sit in the passenger seat on these dark fall mornings and grip my coffee while Nick drives us to school. You don’t know Nick, but you knew his Mom, Lisa Gomez. Nick’s a funny thing. He makes Henry and me laugh. He adds a bit of work because he’s not sure he should have to study, I know what you’re thinking, no, he’s nothing like his mom – Miss 4.0 G.P.A. Anyway he’s silly, lighthearted and likes to push my buttons, just like Henry – always telling me I’m “trippin’.”

 (Silly Nicholas Lyle)

 (Henry and Nick laugh)

    He’s quickly turning into a farmer. He did a photo assignment for class and was outraged because the students thought Lloyd was a duck. “You kiddin’ me with that neck!”

    He’s done a “hella good job driving” if you ask him. He’s gone on the freeway, driven in the rain and is slowly mastering the left-hand turn. Naturally, he’s nervous when trucks are barreling toward him on the highway. I remember when you first let me drive on Pear Blossom Highway after we went skiing one day. I didn’t think that fear of facing a truck would ever subside, but it did just like you said.

 (Nick taking the wheel)

 (Lloyd - Franklin, Richard, Silence and Rachel)

    What would you say now? You see, when I went to have my taxes done the other day. Yes, I know I, I know most people have done there’s but I got them done and mailed on October 15^th. That is the deadline, I made it by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. My accountant, Kelly, said that I am not a bad person although I am paying her. She also told me that the Conservation site where a lot of Bellingham schools go to for their outdoor education is closed this year, and as a result there are a group of parents who heard about Fort Flashback and would like to see if they could have one of the Bellingham Schools come up here for a Colonial or Pioneer experience in the late Spring. Kelly says this is Fort Flashback’s big chance. Which of course is what we’ve been waiting for and I’m pursuing, making appointments with parents designing curriculum and trying to attend the school board meeting.

    But after I drop off the boys I have to race back home and let the animals out now that the mornings are so dark and then run to work. I work at the Everybody Store in Van Zandt for minimum wage. The people are friendly and the job is quirky. In the summer I weeded the strawberry garden and now I’m picking apples in the orchard.  We’re going to debut Henry’s Miracle Honey™ and Stingers™ there in a few days.

    It’s the company Henry thought up. He’s a lot like you with a bunch of get rich quick schemes and a hard worker. He wants to be the Paul Newman of honey. There’s a spicy garlic/pepper you’d love and of course regular plain old honey. It’s one thing to think it up though and another thing to bring it t market. There are a myriad of things to think of. Researching label printing versus buying a printer, then which printer and how much ink, which labels go with which bottle size and shape. Creating recipes, trademarks versus registered marks,getting upc codes, noting proper warnings, verifying nutrition facts, testing recipes, deciding on safety seals, buying a heat gun, creating a limited liability partnership, running focus group testing, applying for food processing permits, getting hair nets, choosing & buying urls, checking into shipping, obtaining hive permits, finding kitchen rentals, creating brand identity, applying for business licenses, getting professional memberships, deciding on donations, making wholesale pricing, deciding whether to try retail, calling the rabbi about the kosher symbol and point of sale promotions. It takes hours of planning, calling, filling out of forms, comparing prices and then of course the price per unit because Tom and I would actually like to make a profit and live together before Henry goes to college.

 (in Seattle getting the jars at the Specialty Bottle Company)

 (loading up - a tight fit with Nick, Quinn, Henry - Tom and me)

 (Mike and Henry with the heated scraper- uncapping the honey- for extraction)

 (extractor)

 (Henry, Nick, Mike and Tom put the frames in the honey extractor)

 (Donna with the official honey drill-mixer - we're getting our license)

 (Donna stirring a Stingers™ bucket for Celia - of the Department of Agriculture)

 (Stingers™ - 16 ounces)

 (The oval hexagon honey jars)

 (Henry's Crest for social studies - a project gone wild - Henry prefers my jigsaw over Tom's - easier to hold for little hands)

 (Henry selects symbols that represent him)

 (Henry is on fire - loving 7th grade)

 (Lord Henry? We hope - the teacher will determine his status)

    After I finish at the Everybody Store I race back to town with a snack and pick-up the boys. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday we go to Burlington for gymnastics. To save time, and fit in Henry’s cornet, he does his practice in the car on the way. Nick makes him put a sock in the horn to muffle the sound. It works pretty well. At 4:00 we stop at the Common Ground, a little coffee shop, where the owner never remembers us. Henry and Nick do their homework for an hour. I have a cup of Earl Grey with a splash of milk and help interpret U.S. History and Algebra. If Nick needs help in Visual Communications we call Tom.

    When I drop off Henry, Nick finishes his homework or chauffeurs me around Burlington running errands to Home Depot™ or the bank or the market. That’s the time I go to Weight Watchers™. I've lost six whole pounds so far and I'm going to keep going. We get home around 9:00PM. I couldn’t manage at all if Lisa Gomez hadn’t gotten me my new Crock-Pot ™ and instituted a few new laundry rules. I’m not allowed to leave laundry in the dryer or fold it and put it in a basket. “Laundry belongs in the laundry room” according to Lisa. I am to take it out of the dryer and put it flat on top. – no more than two loads. Then I must put it away before I am allowed to wash another load. - I’m still a laundry mess but this seems to be a system I can manage – I must say in this area you failed as a mother. What were you teaching me instead of laundry? Oh right, how to have fun and be happy. Well, I mastered that for the most part although I slip occasionally.

    The farm takes up a lot of my time, but I love feeding the cows, tending to the turkeys and the chickens, cleaning stalls, this is what makes me happy.  It’s just trying to pay the bills and find a way to get ahead while doing this and vacuuming up dog hair and testing the generator, insulating the well and chopping wood. My biggest challenge at home is Deli, dad’s dog. She was living with my kooky tenant, Amy, until she killed Amy’s treasured bunny, Rizzo, and is more than likely responsible for the disappearance of Charlotte, the cranky sugar glider. Consequently, Deli’s back with me. She can open every door except the one to my bedroom and so there she stays most of the time imprisoned. She’s sweet and great with the cats, but I can’t take her getting out with the barnyard animals anymore. Strangely, Amy still loves her, but can’t risk Frenchie her other bunny and I can’t blame her. Really what she needs is a small inescapable yard and someone who’d take her on a walk. She’s really a couch potato and a love bug at heart. I don’t know what to do. I can just hear you “Are you kidding me? Your father’s dog? You’re letting your father’s dog ruin your household? – and then “but she’s so cuddly and soft and sweet and gentle…” Where you’d end up on this one remains a mystery.

 (Miracle and Edward horse around)

 (Nick took this picture of Ed peeking in to say hello)

 (Angus resting by a tree)

 (ducks to the left - goats center, turkeys in the foreground and geese in back)

    On a positive note, the pond is so full now it’s overflowing. My tears of anguish were for not. A lot of good came out of the pond drying up. If it hadn’t been for the dry ground I couldn’t have had these nice guys come out and get the gravel out for me in exchange for some firewood. They created a road with the gravel they got out which goes all the way from my driveway to the pond. The pond is almost its normal size again. Almost, because it’ll never be as deep due to the silt and I couldn’t ask them to work any harder than they did, but the island is an island again and Wally’s former residence is suitable for beaver habitation. I can hear you saying “See, you never know what good thing is going to come out of something bad.”

 (reflecting)

 (a real pond again)

 (Luther dressed for fall - crossing the creek)

 (an island again!)

 (water flowing)

 (Beaver ready)

    Gone are the long summer days. Instead, the cool crisp fall brings buttery browns and buttery golds. The rains have come with a vengeance making up for the dry summer. The mud got so deep one day in the pasture I had to let the cows out into the field. I was afraid Gnatalie would get stuck trying to go to the feeder and break a leg.

(autumn is here)

    We want to get her grandmother, Petite and her uncle, but Deli broke the fence going down to the pasture and I just don’t have the money to fix it right now. Ahh such is life on the farm. Speaking of which, there is some interest believe it or not to make our lives a reality show a cross between Walton’s and Green Acres I’m told. I kid you not. We took some footage, but now I can’t seem to get it edited and that’s a whole other job in itself.

    Some of my friends have asked me if I would really do it and truly the answer is yes. It beats the idea of food stamps. I’m not proud any longer I’m just trying to survive. Perhaps, I dream too big.  But the truth is you taught me to be happy with simple things. I can remember you so sick with cancer sitting in your wheel chair outside on your deck. Suddenly you’d smile at the sight of a Stellar Jay or an unexpected egret or those Japanese fishing birds that moved in to the lake. You told me “happiness is not a destination, it’s a decision. If you wait until something, to be happy, you’ll be happy very little. It’s better to be happy at the sight of a flower or a bird or new shoes. Happiness isn’t about all these big things people have such expectations about like Christmas Day. When you want so much from one day you’re bound to be disappointed. It’s better to make everyday special.” This is why I don’t get the laundry done.

    I listened, and I still sing Henry the new shoe song and he sings it to me. I don’t want to be rich Mama; the rich have their own problems. I just want to live life on my farm, laugh with my family and have enough money to take Henry to the E.R. every time he needs it. Oh and did I mention I’d like a pedicure every once in-a-while.

    I do take some time for myself. I write and I have a treadmill. I watch All My Children with the boys while I walk. It’s funny how comforting it is to see the same actors on the show that were on when I watched it with you and Grandma Irene. Tad was in middle school then and now he’s a grandfather. It’s predictable, and silly I suppose and I can go a couple of years without seeing it and pick it up in a week but like it just the way I like getting bubble gum balls out of vending machines. And it’s funny, when Henry says something about one of the characters that you liked or didn’t like, I feel as though I’m a time traveler.

 (Christina and  Irene - her beloved mother-in-law who was more like a mother than anyone she'd ever known )

    Well, as I look outside at the sun peeking through the clouds and the vibrant blue sky against the scarlet trees I realize Mom my time is up. Jeff called and cancelled me for today at the store so I didn’t have to work which meant I had a little snippet to myself, but school’s almost out and I have to check on the progress of the honey sticks we want to give out on Halloween, exchange the winter coat I bought Bruno, pay the garbage bill, see about a couple of electric blankets for the boys, go to the bank and then off to gymnastics.

    I’ll have to tell Sherry her idea worked. I do feel as though we’ve had a little cup of coffee together and I feel a lot better.

(Me - in my sigma chi shirt - and my Mom staying up all night in a German train station - having espresso and chatting with other travelers)

All my love – always

 

Denisie

October 4th Heads Or Tails?

 (Gnatalie, with Abe and Andy together for a rare moment)

            Everyday when I look out on my pasture I see two beautiful deep red steer, Abe and Andy and then I scan the field for Gnatalie who is inevitably all alone half a field away. I feel like I’ve ruined her life. The boys tolerate her, but I’ve accepted that’s about as much as they’re going to do. I’m surprised, because I thought a female was a female was a female and with Anna gone they would latch onto Gnat, but they haven’t. Since when were males picky?

    Tom, Nick, Henry and I couldn’t take it any longer so this morning I called Susie at Pixie Forest Farm to see if there was any way we could swing a payment plan to add Veronica or Marie.

    Coincidently, Quinn had a soccer game near Seattle, so on our way to Lake Stevens, we met up with team Donaldson and took Phoebe with us to see baby cows.

    When we arrived Susie suggested we take a look at a little bull who was still intact and not yet weaned. “Heck if you just need a companion for Gnatalie then it really doesn’t matter if it’s a female. Steers are a lot cheaper.”

    “Cheaper is good.” I said open-minded as we walked over to the small herd.

 (Mama and new baby)

    “Oh my gosh they’re sooo itty-bitty,” Phoebe purred as she looked at some calves that were only a few days old. “I want to touch one.” She said as she tried to near each of the new babies, but they managed to stay just out of reach.

    “I don’t know, he looks a little like a pig,” Tom whispered. “Don’t you think? I still like Veronica better.”

    “And I like Marie,” Henry added. So after looking at the herd and getting introduced to Montana, one of Susie’s bulls, we headed over to Susie’s other field where Veronica, Marie were living.

 (Petite and her baby boy)

 (baby bull)

 (Montana with his curly hairdo)

 (Olive an unusually colored Dexter- she actually is olive)

 (Henry with Tom)

 (sniffing Henry)

 (Phoebe twirls around at Nick)

 (babies)

 (Phoebe- is 9?)

 Here piggy,piggy?)

    Veronica and Marie were as adorable as ever, but not nearly as tame as they had been on our last visit. Susie assured us she would be working with them again so they would be more people friendly when they’re ready to leave her.

    “The thing is, one of the reasons I don’t like Gnatalie down in the pasture with the boys is proximity. We just don’t spend the time with her we would if she was up in the yard.” I said.

    “It’s true, we just don’t walk down to the pasture and hang out.  And we don’t want her to lose her snuggliness. Henry piped up.

    Who’s that?”  Tom asked pointing to the black cow Henry was hugging. “I like her.”

 (Nick feeds the cows for Susie)

 (Marie chomping on dinner)

 (Tom is smitten with Veronica)

 (Henry and Maureen next to Ladybug - Gnatalie's mother)

 (Nick,Henry, and Maureen)

 (Nick, Henry & Phoebe with Marie)

    “That’s Maureen, I’d have a hard time selling her, she's wonderful but I have a completely different suggestion. Do you remember Petite? She was the mother of the little bull I was showing you. She has a problem with her udder during pregnancy it almost hangs on the ground and I don’t think I can breed her anymore so it’s either find her a home where she’s a pet or butcher her. And to tell you the truth I lover her so muchI don’t want to butcher her.”

    “Uh oh, Andy.” Tom interjected. Susie looked at me blankly.

    “That’s how we got Andy, he wasn’t originally part of the package, but they were calling him Hamburger and so she took him too.” Tom explained.

    “And Alexander,” Henry reminded us.

    "And Alexander.” Tom agreed

    “And Apache,” Henry interjected.

    “And Apache.” I agreed. Lord I was a soft touch. I could already feel myself leaning toward Petite. “Well, the thing I like is that she’s already used to people. I think it’s difficult to spend the time with each of them and I like the idea Gnatalie would have a companion she could look up to.” I rationalized.

    “But we really wanted a baby.” Nick said.

    “Well,” Susie started, “First off, I should also tell you Petite is Gnatalie's grandma and her baby is Gnatalie's uncle. I was thinking about you wanting a baby and thought maybe I could make it a package deal and send Petite with her little boy.”

    “Two? You’re going to get two?” Phoebe said wide-eyed and incredulous

    “I didn’t say that! And don’t you dare tell your mother that. She’ll lose it.”

    “Tell me." She said dryly. "You’re not at my house after she hangs up with you.” Phoebe said wisely.

    We all tumbled back into the van and headed back to Susie’s to see what we thought of Petite.  “Look I don’t think I want three Dexters. And frankly, I don’t know how much two would cost. I’m not sure I’d want them if she threew the baby in for free.”

    “Well, you’re the one who’d be doing most of the work.” Tom said rationally.

    “Do you still want Veronica?” I asked.

    “No. I really like her, but she’s got to be a lot more than Petite or maybe we should just take the little boy.”

    “What about Maureen? I like her,” Henry suggested.

    “Susie doesn’t want to sell her so she’s going to be a lot more money.” Tom explained.

    The phone rang. I knew it would be Lisa and Chris wondering where we were because Quinn’s soccer game was just about over. “So do you have a cow strapped to your luggage rack?” She said cracking herself up.

    “Uh, no. We’re not leaving here with a cow today.” I said confidently and firmly, knowing none of them were weaned and we couldn’t fit Petite in the back of the van.

    “How much longer?

    “We’re just going back to Susie’s other field to take one more look and then we’re on our way.” I assured her.

    “Okayyyy. See you soon.” She said with the distinct sound of doubt in her voice as though she really expected me to show up at Starbucks with a cow on the roof of my van. Perhaps not completely out of the question if I'm honest with myself.

    When we arrived at Susie’s I asked straight out, “What are the different prices of all these different options. You see, we have Gnatalie to think of, but we’re limited financially. I know Veronica and Marie are more expensive. Maureen, you don’t want to sell, so she’s got to be the most, but how much is Petite?”

    “Well, I want to make this worthwhile for you, so I was thinking of making Petite less than half of what it would cost to get Veronica or Marie and throwing her son in for free.”

    “A two-fer?” Tom snickered looking at me as though all choice had disappeared. He’s the one who made me get two kittens in exchange for getting rid of Leo the turtle. Now I did have a dilemma. But I know in the end, the purchase price of an animal is not how you can judge it’s real cost. We walked over and looked at Petite.  She certainly had a sweet face. The kids fed her and watched her baby nurse.

 (Susie and Petite)

 (Petite, Henry & Phoebe)

 (Phoebe and Petite)

    After awhile we got in the car and started north. “So what are some Irish boy names?” Tom asked. This was the kiss of death. I didn’t think there was any turning back once Tom started naming the little guy.

    “How about Max because his mom is Petite?” Henry suggested.

    The boys and Phoebe started brainstorming. “What about Shamus?” Nick suggested.

    “I like Shamus.” Tom agreed.

    “Phinneas?”

    “Finnegan? Killian? I actually know a tough, cuddly Killian." I joined in remembering my little student Sadie Buchenau's adorable brother.

    “I know, Aiden,” Henry called out.

    “Aiden? That’s a little All My Children.” I noted.

    “So were Stuart, Jasper and Phoebe Wallingford.” Henry said and Phoebe laughed batting her eyelashes.

    “What do you think of Clancy?” I said thinking of Clancy the clown in the Deck of Old Maid Cards. I have about six of them since my sister used to put them in my Christmas stocking year after year.

    “I like Clancy,” Tom said “it sounds friendly and it’s Irish.”

    “Are we doing the right thing” I wondered aloud?

    “Gnatalie needs company that’s for sure. It’s just which one.” Nick said firmly.

    “Nick’s right Gnatalie’s sad.” Phoebe pleaded.

    “She is Mom and you know it.”

    “And remember Petite is going to be butchered if we don’t take her. Do you really want to separate her from her baby? What kind of monster would that make you?” Tom asked. “You’d ruin her life too.”

 (heads and tails? Petite and nameless irish boy)