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We left most of our belongings in our unsold house in Iowa, and we have moved into a small apartment in Inni-inna. (Don't worry, our neighbors are vigilantly guarding our old house.) The new apartment is perfect for my imagination and Liberty and Mercy's friendliness. It's on the ground floor, located right next to the main entrance for the building, and we have a large sliding door that allows immediate access to the patio, yard and (Liberty's favorite) the Mud Puddle! (I would say "pictures coming soon" since I took some this morning, but I have learned not to make statements like that anymore. I still have photos and videos on my camera from January that I'm hoping to download. --Sorry, Stephanie and Brenda!)
The proximity to the main entrance allows the girls to call out "Hi!" to everyone entering and exiting, thus fulfilling their drive to befriend everyone within shouting distance, and enabling Mercy to practice her maniacal waving. Also, the ability to watch the comings and goings of all our neighbors keeps me highly entertained. It's a perfect set up.
The Mud Puddle has become home for a short time to three different frogs. They believe that they live elsewhere, but Liberty has strongly informed them that she has their best interests at heart while she squeezes the organs out of their tiny bodies. It's sad, really. Daddy had a fit when he caught her kissing one and tucking it into her bed. We had to tell her that froggies really do prefer to live outside. Live being the key term. When she finally figures out that they are not just "seepin," we will have to start holding funerals for them.
Our neighbor Mandy and her grand-nephew Kaleb have become our friends. Mandy hangs out at our house and tells me stories of all the neighbors and apartment employees. She's like an encyclopedia. She knows something about everyone. I love it! She's very nice, too. Kaleb asked if he could help me unpack several of my kitchen boxes on Monday, and he volunteered Mandy's scissors to open my boxes until I could find my own again. Then he broke down all of the cardboard and stacked it neatly for me. He's the hardest working eight-year-old I've ever met.
Right now, the girls are napping. The kitchen and dining room are clean. There are Teddy Graham covering my living room floor, and clean clothes scattered all over the bed in the master bedroom. I have folded and put away (amazing, huh?) one load of laundry. Another load has finished drying and is sitting in the dryer waiting for Mercy to wake up (because some genius put the washer/dryer hookup in the second bedroom), and a third load is still dirty and sitting in a hamper in the hallway waiting to be put into the washer. Rain is splashing hard into the mud puddle, which has become a tiny lake, now, and the gutter downspout gurgles a steady bass in the background.
The proximity to the main entrance allows the girls to call out "Hi!" to everyone entering and exiting, thus fulfilling their drive to befriend everyone within shouting distance, and enabling Mercy to practice her maniacal waving. Also, the ability to watch the comings and goings of all our neighbors keeps me highly entertained. It's a perfect set up.
The Mud Puddle has become home for a short time to three different frogs. They believe that they live elsewhere, but Liberty has strongly informed them that she has their best interests at heart while she squeezes the organs out of their tiny bodies. It's sad, really. Daddy had a fit when he caught her kissing one and tucking it into her bed. We had to tell her that froggies really do prefer to live outside. Live being the key term. When she finally figures out that they are not just "seepin," we will have to start holding funerals for them.
Our neighbor Mandy and her grand-nephew Kaleb have become our friends. Mandy hangs out at our house and tells me stories of all the neighbors and apartment employees. She's like an encyclopedia. She knows something about everyone. I love it! She's very nice, too. Kaleb asked if he could help me unpack several of my kitchen boxes on Monday, and he volunteered Mandy's scissors to open my boxes until I could find my own again. Then he broke down all of the cardboard and stacked it neatly for me. He's the hardest working eight-year-old I've ever met.
Right now, the girls are napping. The kitchen and dining room are clean. There are Teddy Graham covering my living room floor, and clean clothes scattered all over the bed in the master bedroom. I have folded and put away (amazing, huh?) one load of laundry. Another load has finished drying and is sitting in the dryer waiting for Mercy to wake up (because some genius put the washer/dryer hookup in the second bedroom), and a third load is still dirty and sitting in a hamper in the hallway waiting to be put into the washer. Rain is splashing hard into the mud puddle, which has become a tiny lake, now, and the gutter downspout gurgles a steady bass in the background.
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