There we sat. My legs propped on the coffee table, his dangling over the side of the loveseat. I held my juice glass and listened to him recount the events of his day at school.

This, being my most favourite time of the day, I tend to try and prolong it by asking more and more questions. Try as I may to have it seem to be a nonchalant, natural communcation between mother and son, it occasionally becomes more of an investigation style interview. As soon as the boy has detected this, it's game over, with any further questioning to be answered with the typical ' I dunno...'

Here's a snippet of yesterdays daily review. You'll see why I'm so captivated.

Gabe- 'We had a supply teacher today. Her name was Mrs. Pranger'

Mommy-'Ohh, did you like her?'

G-'yup, she was nice.' 'I told her about my scab.'

M- (snapping my head in his direction, nearly spilling a wave of juice on my lap) 'Oh? which scab?'

G- 'You know the one in my ear..'

M- (oh my goodness) ' oh ya. What did she say?'

G- ' she said 'oh'.' 'Then I told her how scabs are Gods bandaids.'

M- 'mmm, I bet she was delighted.'

G- 'She was, she even looked in my ear'.

What would life be like without these little people in my life?

Foggiest.

A foggy day back in the summer. As it's snowing here right now, I just relish in the memory of slipping into my crocs, grabbing my camera and heading out into the morning mist. The dense humidity in the air, my nostrils inhaling both fog and oxygen.

I couldn't see the cows in the field, but as I quietly called them in the thick blanket of silence, they appeared one by one. Trotting out of the clouds to investigate.

Gabe on Trike. Enjoying the 'smoky' day.

2 girls in the field.

Well worn road and line of maples.

Driveway.

Opa and Eden

punkin night.

Here are the hollowed punkins...

Hollowed by this bulging forearm...be still my heart...

Reached in by this little character...

Scooped out by same said character... (for the record she almost choked and died on a pumpkin seed that evening...I was too busy watching her hands than her mouth.)

Lil fairy princess....

clown. (seriously folks, I needn't hear about the absolutely horrible job I did on her eyebrows. Ashlyn doesnt' have eyebrows on a good day (being a red head and all) and these just made her look so freaky ... Icould hardly bear it. But we were rushed and with a slip of the hand , there they were. She's the kind I dream about...shiver.)

And the grand finale. Mr. FBI himself. At every door we went to he said " FBI agent at your service!"

... I just about ready to ask him if his forensics kit could remove makeup eyebrows.

So thar's me man and I. I liked this photo so much, I ordered it in a 20x20 size. It turned out nice, but I haven't the slightest idea where I'd hang such a large photo of myself and the hubs. If it was in the front entrance, it may act as our greeting party...perhaps I could record my voice to say "C'mooooon In!" Admit it though, you'd be freaked. The best would be if I could get my mouth to move.

Or I could hang it over the fireplace, but anytime I was sitting enjoying a fire, I'd feel not only the heat from the flames but also the heat from my little beady eyes burning into my flesh.

I think maybe I'll just cut the eyes and mouth out of it and use it as a life size mask. I'll hide behind it watching people then suddenly stick my tongue out of the mouth hole and scare the pants off them.

Ha. Getting my scissors...