I just got a copy of Michael O'Brien's spanking new novel, Theophilos. I can't wait to dig in past the first forty pages (which is where I am right now). So far, so good. Very O'Brien-esque. Theophilos, for those who are curious, is the man Luke wrote his gospel and the Acts of the Apostles to. No one knows who he was. So, entre O'Brien's imagination and awesome storytelling gift. So awesome.
These last few weeks have been such a flurry of moving the kids into their own room, cutting down trees, planting dozens of new ones, planting the garden (onions, carrots, romaine, chard, spinach, potatoes, peas, and beets for those who are interested), and general upkeep of a house that is daily being walked through by three muddy pairs of boots. And, I can't forget, all the laundry that comes with these rainy muddy days.
Not that i'm complaining! I have many fond childhood memories of playing the mud. It's wonderful to relive them with my two little ones. I don't really mind cleaning up after everything. Plus, next week forecast man predicts a grand warm up with lots of sun. No complaints here.
Toby is officially a boy. No more baby here. He takes boy sized steps, eats boy sized meals, and throws boy sized tantrums. I kind of miss my baby!
TTFN.
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