Please, Floor, Swallow Me Up…

While we were eating dinner at a restaurant tonight, the Wee One looked at a woman sitting at the next table and said, "Why is that lady eating her banana with a fork?" "Oh I don't know, it's less messy," I said, fussing with my sandwich. The Wee One looked at her again and said, in her most piercing voice, "Chinese people don't know how to eat bananas!"

Just don't ask me, because no, I have no idea why, or how…

The bigger of the two small people and I did the Cutest Race in the Universe yesterday, the Interlaken Steeplechase. It is not a traditional steeplechase (which involves vaulting hay bales); it's called the Steeple Chase because the money raised is used to help fund the steeple renovation for the local church. Plus the mile markers are made out of the church's previous steeples. There are only about a hundred participants, probably a third of whom end up receiving age group, mid-pack or participation awards. One of these awards was a painted-plywood lawn ornament featuring gnomes, others were bowls of cookies, bottles of local grape juice and hand-crafted (by a member of the congregation) wood steeple-shaped clocks. After the race, there's a filling lunch served with soup, bread and dessert. Cute, cute, CUTE.

Three miles is long for a six-year-old, and when the Biggie woke early we devised a race strategy: start out slow and steady running on the first big downhill mile, run/walk the flat second stretch, then walk the last uphill mile, running as needed "for show" for photographers, water station workers and the like. Style was deemed equally as important as strategy, and she selected an outfit featuring striped tights and a skort. She did great. There was minimal complaining, and even then it was not whiny. We executed our carefully planned strategy, completing the race in 39:54 under a thundering sky, with the cheering section of the Husband, Wee One and Milo the Wonder Dog spurring us on to a sprint at the finish.

Here she is, my runner girl (who won a five-dollar ice cream gift certificate for being second girl in her age group):

Because We Lock Her in a Closet From Friday Night Until Monday Morning

This week's question at the Wee One's preschool was, "What did you do this weekend?"

Madison: "I went on a pony ride! And to the farmer's market and a park!"
Ashley: "Grandma came and we drove around and ate doughnuts and went to the toy store and watched a movie!"

Wee One: "I did nothing."

Honey, Let's Buy the Turtle House

So I'm zooming around this morning, cleaning and shining and baking and lighting in preparation for a showing. On my last pass through, who do I find scritch-scratching her way around the dining room? Yes, Skipperdee the Turtle, who somehow launched herself out of her aquarium and was well on her way to the wilds of the parlor.

What, wandering reptiles aren't a selling point?

I know, there's been silence on Planet Quistilton lately, but do not take that to mean there is nothing going on. On the contrary, EVERYTHING is going on, ALL AT ONCE. The Husband was traveling for business. The dreaded Dengue Fever once again reared its ugly head. I'm increasing my work hours. And the topper, what puts this blogmistress over the friable edge of sanity, is we're buying a new house and spent the last two weeks frantically preparing the current Quistilton Spread for sale. So if you know anyone who wants to buy a bright yellow "completely renovated downtown gem" in Ithaca, please let me know.

The Dengue Fever is just a constant source of background stress, such a pain. I thought that with this third manifestation, we'd really get it diagnosed, but no. Here is the rheumatologist's sage pronouncement: "This is just the way you are, you can expect it to happen any time you get an infection. It's exacerbated by stress, so you should sell your children. I bet you could get a good price for them." Thanks, Dr. Dodo. WHATEVER.

What brings me back to sanity and happiness is the thought of our new home, a country retreat nearly at the end of a dead-end street, on top of a hill with no visible neighbors, a working organic garden, ski trails, swing set, wood stove…ok I'm getting distracted. The original house is a funky twelve-sided 60's homebuilt job (yes, it's a dodecahedron), with a bright and beautiful post-and-beam addition built in 2001. Yes, I know there will be no take-out delivered there. I know winter will come a month earlier on the hill, and leave a month later. I know, we are insane. But we are also tired of traffic and police sirens and more baloney than I really want to get into here. So we're movin' out, folks! Yeeha!

(Pictures coming soon!)