Wyoming, Here We Come!

We are healthy! This has been the strangest virus with which I've ever had the misfortune of becoming acquainted. Much of the past week has revolved around the question: What is the new symptom of the day? Blisters in my throat, then hands, then feet, then lips, then a lovely rash, each appearing day by day. My poor baby had it the worst of all.  was fortunate never to have the big, painful blisters that Finn did, which made him cry to be held because it hurt to walk. Mine were a fine peppering of pinpricks. Only Asher escaped this miserable second chapter.

Most of my week was spent on a ladder, painting the eaves on our house and trying not to drop the brush from my prickly fingers. The boys were quite accommodating, playing with the hose and squirting water everywhere. Asher insisted on helping me paint, so I put together a paint roller for him with a bucket of water. He proceeded to "paint" just about everything, including my car. (If you put racing stripes on it, it's a race car ya know.) I had a tremendously embarrassing moment in the front yard, during which I hope none of the neighbors were looking out. I forgot that there was a bucket of paint sitting at the top of my ladder. When I repositioned the ladder I was reminded of the bucket as it smacked painfully into the back of my head, before splattering the flower bed and lawn. Four days later my head is still tender. Fortunately it had only a little paint in it, or I'd have probably been unconscious. I got the entire front of the house (eaves) painted and some of the back, so it's a very good start.

Friday we left for The North Country (AKA, Powell, Wyoming) to visit Dave's parents. Dave is working in North Dakota for the next two weeks, but detoured to Powell to drop us off with his family. He has spent the weekend with us, and in the morning he leaves to work 10 days straight in Stanley. He'll be back in two weeks to spend another weekend here before we head home. The boys LOOOVE grandma's house, with its open doors, vast yard, chickens, ducks, horses, dirt, rocks, and ever-rotating supply of new toys. Grandma took Asher to the store to buy a squirt gun last night, which he has used to terrorize everyone who comes near, particularly the ducks and Grandpa. Neither of them ever wants to sleep; there is too much fun to be had! My agenda for the next two weeks is to temper Asher's feral soul, and keep Finn from toddling off to the highway or the canal. 

Yesterday we had a little picnic up in the Bighorn mountains. The boys (mostly just Asher) rode a horse led by Dave, and even Grandma got a little ride. It's been about 16 years since Momma Brink was seen on the back of a horse, and it was some effort getting there, but she rides again! Dave wrested the reins from her and pulled her along on a little loop just like he did Asher. Both of them were laughing so hard, it's a wonder she didn't fall off. After that rather undignified episode, she took a little jaunt off into the trees with Bart on his horse, and showed that she still knows a thing or two.

Don't you just want to squeeze him?

Don't you just want to squeeze him?

I'm sure we'll have lots of adventures to report in the next two weeks, but for now I'll leave off with a couple of sweet Asher-isms. One happened as we were leaving town Friday. Dave had to leave the boys alone in the truck for a few minutes. The truck was still in his sight, though the boys couldn't see him. When Dave came back, Asher declared, "We were worried about you Dave!" (Have I mentioned that Asher calls him Dave? It's a lost cause.)

Asher-ism #2 occurred as we drove down from the Bighorns after our picnic. Jan and I had driven the boys up around noon, as Dave and his dad had gone up earlier on their own to ride horses in the morning. On the way back Dave offered to take Asher home in the truck, and I congratulated him on being "one of the guys." Apparently Asher felt differently. Most of the way home he bawled, "I want my mom! She break my heart!" That one really gets at my mommy feels. Asher is highly independent, but once in awhile he lets his guard down and lets me know that he needs his momma. I treasure those moments!