I’m spending two days here at Donna and Bevan’s house in Midway. Monica and Jackson are here, too. The plan was that I would tend the babies for two mornings while Donna and Monica skied, and it worked out OK yesterday, except that Jackson wouldn’t take the formula that Monica left behind, so that excursion was cut short. Then, last night Monica seemed to come down with the stomach flu, with all its grisly details. So we’re all home this morning. Right now, the babies are having nap time, and so are the moms. I’m typing my letter and looking out the window at the quiet Midway scenery. I went for a walk earlier this morning, and ended up at “The Store,” just up the street from here. I had a hankering for something sweet and gooey, like Little Debbie cakes, but I couldn’t find anything like that. (Fine wines and gourmet cheeses are there in abundance.) I asked one of the clerks where they had snack cakes, and she looked confused. I said, “You know, like twinkies and things like that.” Her lip curled. I swear, it really did! I said, “Well, hostess cupcakes, you know . . . .” She directed me to a little spot in the deli, under the drink machine, where there was one package of Ding Dongs and two of something else. I bought the Ding Dongs. I guess Little Debbie, with her cute little hat and curly hair, would never be welcomed in such an upscale store.
This afternoon I’m picking up John’s kids and taking them to our cabin for an overnighter. Heather’s taking off to join John at his glider convention in Las Vegas. (At least I think that’s where he is.) This is a strange week for me, because normally I don’t babysit very much, but it’s fun, for a change. The cabin isn’t looking its best right now, because Dad and I have torn up most of the living room floor, and I just can’t keep ahead of the dust and debris. But we’ll have fun, anyway. There’s always the sledding hill. It’s in great shape right now.
I hope John’s kids don’t have any unfortunate encounters with mice at our cabin. The mice seem to be creeping in, but so far, they haven’t done very well. I found one mouse flattened under my woodpile in the greenhouse. I probably didn’t see it when I dropped down a load of wood. There was a bad smell in the wolf bathroom, and it seemed to be coming from the washing machine. Sure enough, I looked in and found a drowned, decomposing mouse. They’re easy to find once they die. The smell is a dead giveaway.
I’m looking forward to seeing lots of you at Nora’s on Monday night!