I knead this to be over!

The kids and I were sitting at the table having lunch and discussing Shakespeare (we're reading A Comedy of Errors at the moment) this afternoon when we heard Andrew say from the kitchen, "Alexa, how much time is left on the timer?"

We knew he had dough proofing in the oven; he'd planned to make pretzels for dinner. 

His pretzels are the best.

"You have two minutes remaining on your ten minute timer," Alexa told him.

"UGH!" he moaned. 

Everyone at the table exchanged looks. It's not usual for Andrew to be so emotional.

"Pretty sure you'll survive two minutes," I said, my voice dripping with fake sympathy.

"But I'm so tired!" he huffed. 

Everyone at the table exchanged looks again. Because literally what was his plan at...noon. Nap time?

Now, this is rich coming from a lady who treasures an afternoon nap with her toddler nearly every day. I see that. But, like, seriously, Andrew doesn't usually nap in the middle of the day. And would two minutes really throw off any napping plans that he evidently had? 

He can be so weird sometimes!

*****

A split second later I had to jump up from the table to grab something from the kitchen—probably a cloth to clean up something Phoebe had spilled or something—and when I walked into the kitchen I saw Andrew pounding away at dough on the kitchen counter.

"Oh!" I said. "You're kneading!"

Then I had to tell everyone else, so I said louder, "Guys—he's kneading!"

"Oh!" came a chorus of voices from the table.

"What...did...you...think...I...was...doing?" Andrew asked, accentuating each word with a punch of the dough. 

"Honestly? We thought you were just...sitting around...waiting for the dough to finish proofing or something."

We all had a good laugh about that little mix up.

*****

Andrew's been nothing but industrious lately! He patched up the drywall in the cursed bathroom (scaring the kids by making the whole like four times bigger than it was at first, but evidently it's easier to patch a large hole than a small hole, from what he learned while he was researching techniques).

And he replaced the sink drain in the cursed bathroom, as well as the toilet stoppers in both the haunted bathroom and the bathroom in our bedroom. And I'm so glad because those phantom flushes were really making it seem like our bathroom(s) were haunted (and were also contributing to my general sense of overwhelm from too much background noise). 

He also picked up flowers for me! So thoughtful, right?

Some neighbours (on the Buy Nothing Group) were separating their irises and invited people to come grab some, so I claimed some and sent Andrew to go pick them up. 

He came back with over 100 iris bulbs. I planted about 50 of them on Tuesday night while he was at mutual with Rachel and Miriam (he actually put his seat back and had a nap in his car while they were at their activity; we'd had the worst night with Phoebe and then he'd had to get up early and...if he had tried to make pretzels on Tuesday instead of Friday, he very well may have cried about waiting two minutes for the bread to proof before he could take a nap). Their activity, I'll mention briefly, was a knitting night, which Miriam was in charge of. She taught the girls how to knit (with the help of one of her leaders, who is an expert knitter) and they're all planning on making little squares, which they'll then put together to make a banner for the Young Women's room. 

Anyway, I planted about 50 iris bulbs on Tuesday night, while also wrangling Phoebe, and it was a lot of work. I was thoroughly exhausted by the end of it, dripping in sweat, and covered in mosquito bites. 

On Wednesday, Rachel helped me put the rest (50+ bulbs) in the ground. She is a much better helper than any of the little kids! 

I don't know what our yard will look like come the spring/early summer, but I have a feeling it will have a lot more colour to it. Rachel reminded me that it's unlikely that every bulb will survive, just because...I have a particular knack of killing plants. But surely some of them will survive! 

We also have about a dozen gladioli that survived from the batch of expired bulbs we got (on the Buy Nothing Group). Miriam planted those with me this spring. I think we planted 40 bulbs or so. Only 12 put up leaves this year, and of those twelve, only two put out flowers. But I think we should get more flowers next year since the bulbs (technically corms, I know) were able to drink up some good sunshine and put away from energy for later use!

And we also had a similar haul of daffodils (from the Buy Nothing Group) in the early spring. The kids and I spent quite a lot of time popping those bulbs (actual bulbs) into the ground. 

Here's hoping our yard will just be bursting with colour next year!

*****

Yesterday when I was on a walk with Rachel and Miriam (and Phoebe), I was pushing the stroller and realized my hands were quite sore.

"What is wrong with my hands?" I pondered out loud. "This is going to sound strange but, like, my grip strength is...sore. Whatever muscles I use for gripping things? They're sore."

"Ummmm...iris bulbs?" Rachel said. "You spent hours digging in the dirt the past couple of days..."

"That would be it!" I said. 

Sure is nice to have these younger minds around!