I don’t know if you noticed the flash of Morris in the flipagram of walks I made, but the boys did. Mikey moped for a little bit, but Nico thought of Morris for days until I suggested he draw pictures of Morris using one of the three “how to draw” art books Santa brought him.
Sadly, cat-as-art didn’t happen as easily as Nico imagined.
“I don’t like his beaver look, mama.”
We sat and worked on it a bit more, but when Nico by chance turned to a rocket page in the same art book, all thoughts of a cat tribute went out the window. Rockets are lines and shapes and pieces that come together. Rockets are Nico, and poor cat-as-art didn’t stand a chance.
This is how most of our vacation has gone. No traveling, no day trips, no extraordinary adventures. I’ve loved the quiet of it all.
I’ve been doing projects around the house every day, but I’m still figuring out a posting schedule. How often, when, what to post and what not to post. I’ll get the hang of it as the year passes on, I’m sure.
To read that last sentence, you would think I’ve been replaced by a mellowed clone version of myself while the real me sits in a parallel world obsessively Googling “do zeppelins outside my window mean I’m trapped in an alternate universe.” If I suddenly wax poetic about doing laundry, you know you’re dealing with Clone-Jules. Real-Jules asks that you send for help after the laundry is folded and put away.