This weekend, the girls and I retreated to my parents’ house on Cape Cod. Mostly to get out of James’ way and let the man tackle many a project that has been lingering on our TO DO list.
As I mentioned, Rufio’s demise accelerated the chicken processing from Important to Urgent. Our friend came over on Saturday, and helped James’ rid Cartwheel Farm of all but one rooster, sweet sweet Ferdinand. James relayed that it was a much smoother process than when he handled Emilio, save for that moment when he had beheaded a chicken but then lost his grip and said headless rooster proceeded to race around our barn while Gladden eagerly chased it, until she realized that something was not right. Yeah, bloody headless rooster is not right. Apparently, this is fairly typical and not just farm life lure. How glad am I that I was lounging on the beach rather than bearing witness to that scene? I suppose it’s nearly Halloween, but honestly, I would have lost my damn mind had I been present. We do not live in Sleepy Hollow, y’all.
So, we are down to one very sweet, fluffy rooster, 9 hens that are now all laying (so Sunny has begun selling eggs by the dozen in rainbow-decorated egg crates. Adorable.), the coop has been cleaned, rooms have been painted, carpets installed, lawns mowed, garden beds turned, and furniture moved every which way to accommodate the redesign/renovation of four rooms chez Cart. Why tackle all of these renovations at once, you may wonder?
Because we are out of our dang minds. You should know that by now.
As James and I were wallpapering vintage New Yorker covers from the ’60s and ’70s that my grandmother collected nearly 20 years ago, gave to my mother, who gifted them to me a decade ago, on to the walls of our downstairs bathroom this evening, James wondered out loud, “Why are we doing this now? Why did it take us so long to do, and yet, why have we decided to do it now while in the midst redoing three rooms upstairs?” (As I type this, he is still downstairs wallpapering…)
My response, “How long have we been together? Then you know me well enough that you have your answer. GO BIG OR GO HOME, CART!”
Do you remember when the New Yorker cost $0.25, because our bathroom sure does.
ANYWAY, back to our weekend (as I’ll be sure to share room redesign progress/plans another time). Saturday proved to be a positively gorgeous, hot day, so despite the foliage of oranges and reds telling us otherwise, we headed to the beach and lounged in our bathing suits, and Doda, Sunny and Kaki even went swimming. In fact, Sunny straight up submerged herself in the water before even Doda had gotten up the courage to do so. Our LA baby has proved that she is indeed a hardy New Englander.
I left the kids with my parents for a few hours on Sunday and had a family photography session in Brookline, and then rendezvoused at Ikea to purchase bunk beds, sinks, vanities, and an odd assortment of home goods that one is wont to purchase when sucked into the matrix that is affordable, mass-produced Swedish design. I was so daunted by the sheer number of bodies in one place at one time, their parking lot nearly did me in. But thanks to the moral support of my parents who wrangled children and my psyche, we survived and I am once again indebted to those two incredible souls who go out of their way time and time again to make my life a little easier (or in the case, A LOT easier). We love you, Momar and Doda.
And the girls can’t WAIT to show you their bunk bed on their bright purple carpet when you visit for Thanksgiving.
Pardon the iPhone snaps. I did not drag my SLR to the beach.