Daughter Dearest and I returned from vacation to find Spring #3 ramping up. It quickly got to be nearly as warm as it was in Florida last week — but both of us had our priorities in order: 1) Mom and Solar-bro; 2) 550 miles from the chicken houses; 3) The weather. Monday was productive; I gathered up a bunch of firewood that had been at least partially cut and The Boy did most of the splitting while I stacked. Mrs. Fetched deemed the resulting stack “impressive.” I’m going to do a lot of cutting this spring, then we’ll have (mostly) dry firewood come next fall.
But Spring #3 can be the wild one of the bunch, even if it’s going to be the “real” spring this year (we might get a Winter #4, but it would have to be mild and short). DoubleRed and I came home this evening to a TS02 in progress, with Mrs. Fetched sort of refereeing and Mason watching with frank interest. Snippet finally huffed off and went upstairs, leaving The Boy (who had been simmering in the lounge chair) to fill me in on the details. Apparently, this has been something that’s been going on for a while — maybe since the big TS02 over Valentine’s Day (VD) weekend. Mason was a bit more concerned than he let on; he let out a loud squawk of relief right in my ear a few minutes later.
I should have expected something like this: Snippet dropped SN05, SN08, and SN09 errors on me just this morning; The Boy has been throwing TB22 and TB25 errors a lot as well. Turned out that the day after DD and I vacated, Mrs. Fetched lowered the boom on them both — and they both straightened up and took care of business (and Mason) much better than before. It carried forward, as The Boy did pretty good with the firewood.
Speaking of Mason, I noticed a couple changes when we returned — his hair is a little thicker and his face a bit chubbier. He also caught a cold, poor guy. I had him yesterday afternoon and he started getting fussy… making “I’m hungry” complaints. I made some formula, used about half of it in a bowl of cereal for him, and started feeding. He took four or five bites and started crying like he’d been slapped — I checked to make sure he hadn’t gotten pinched in the high chair — then got him out. As usual, by the time I got to the bedroom he’d stopped crying… but he started moaning a little, which is his “I’m tired” noise. Shortly after, the “hungry” noises began and DoubleRed offered him another spoon of cereal. He clamped his mouth shut, so I asked her to make another four oz. of formula and add it to what I’d made. This made a full 8 oz. bottle; I offered that to Mason and he started chowing… and chowing… and chowing. He finally dozed off when there was a couple thimbles of formula left — whew! — then slept for two hours. Smart kid, he knew he needed his fluids.
Yesterday, I did something I probably don’t do enough of — exercised grandparent’s prerogative. I had Mason in the lounge chair, standing in my lap, when he bent over and started grunting. The radiation alarms went off a few minutes later, and I gave him (and his atomic diaper) to Snippet to decontaminate.
The Boy’s band — 22s at 7 — will be playing at the Masquerade (in Atlanta) this weekend. He really wants me to come, but with money as tight as it is I told him he might have to buy my ticket. :-P They spelled the band’s name wrong on the ticket, which I suppose is a rite of passage for new acts, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Well, it’s back to the office tomorrow. I checked my email yesterday evening and the place hadn’t caved in yet, so tomorrow and Friday will be spent on some administrivia and maybe even getting some work done. Will Snippet leave The Boy? Will The Boy finally land that music career he’s wanted for over half his life? Will Mrs. Fetched ever get some rest? Stay tuned…