Tennessee Thanksgiving

We had a great time spending Thanksgiving in Tennessee with Adam's parents. (Ari was in California with her dad and Alex, and Mom stayed at home to spend time with Lynn's family.) Carrie spent a lot of time with Grandma Yvonne; here they are making rolls for dinner and play dough for all of the kids.

Heath loves Max, and Max is amazingly tolerant. Heath loved to try to ride Max or walk around the yard holding his collar. The kittens were also a big draw, but they were so young we only handled them one time.

The weather was beautiful, so we spent a lot of time outside. Quin makes eyes at her two favorite gentlemen.

Arts and crafts for the kids. Daddy colors a Little Pony picture for Quin.




Grandma and Grandpa had Christmas early for us. The girls had a great time at Grandma's store, and Grandpa made some of Heath's dreams come true. Here he is posed in his new motorcycle racing gear.

Multiplying like, well, rabbits. . .

So, the new kittens have arrived. Say hello to Otis (white and tan male) and Boo (black female).

Adam wanted to pick them up himself, even though the carrier was in my car. Daddy as hero, bringing kittens home to the family! Wanting to share in the glory, I met him at the grocery store to sync up (and to pick up a new litter box). Evidently the kittens made the trip under the seat of his truck.

But when we got home, we found only one cat under the seat. The little black cat was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, Adam ending up laying on the floor of the truck with a flashlight. Our Boo is a little Houdini - she went up into the dash from the opening near the steering column. After a few minutes of "RREEOOWWWW, PFFT, PFFT, PFFT," she was free to be loved nearly to death by the rest of the brood. Which, if anyone is counting, now adds up to 11: 1 grandma, 2 parents, 1 teenager, 3 Littles, 1 dog, and 3 cats. When Alex comes home for the holidays we'll be an even dozen.

The photo above is the only proof I have that the new additions have been allowed to put feet on the floor. The photos that follow show how the majority of our time is now spent. (Note the number of arms reaching toward Otis in the photo of Quin.)

Chasing Rabbits

Our dog Pepper, who is half Australian Cattle Dog and half fox terrier, herds the kids. Unfortunately, this means that when they are out of the house she always wants to know where they are. So she often escapes out the front door, especially when they are playing out front or away from home.

Today Heath had late start at school, which means that he was leaving for the bus stop at the same time our neighbor was walking her shepherd mix. Pepper bolted from the house to run up to the other dog. Unfortunately, this dog is more aggressive than Pepper, and Pepper got a nasty bite on the neck.

She'll be fine, but she had to have stitches. She has an unfortunate reaction to anesthetic, however, so we're hoping the entire evening won't be the doggy version of The Exorcist. And worse, we were picking her up when a lady was dropping of an entire family of kittens for adoption. So I'm guessing that if we have time in between Pepper's multiple medication doses, we'll be picking up two new additions tomorrow afternoon.

Bunny Sighting

Most recent bumpy part:

While waiting for my plane home from Dallas, I received a desperate phone call from my mother. "I don't know what to do. I think Adam is going to kill Heath when he gets home." I had just been on the phone with them minutes before - what on earth could Heath have done in such a short time? What thing would make my mother fear for his very life?

Only the worse thing on earth you can do to a girl, evidently. He - I barely dare to type it - CUT QUIN'S HAIR.

Egad, you say. Those of you who know me know that hair is the very least of my concerns. OK, maybe not the least - makeup and nails fall behind. But I saw my mother's point. Adam was going to kill him.

He's a modern man by many standards, but there is at least one irrefutable exception. His girls are supposed to have long hair. They may pick up worms from the back yard and call them their friends. They may dress in their brother's hand-me-downs when they are not donning princess attire. They may hunt and fish and ride motorcycles to their hearts' content. But they must not - EVER - have short hair.

"How bad is it?" I ask.

My mother replies, "Oh, it's short. More on one side than the other."

I ask if our neighbor who owns the hair salon is home. No such luck. We run out of time - and my mother tosses the phone to Adam. I think I could have heard him in Dallas without the phone. Heath may be allowed to play video games again when he is 40.

I asked Heath why he did it. Evidently he thought this was the way to make Quin a boy. While I explained that this would not be the best way to go about it, I choose not to go into great detail in the Dallas/Fort Worth airport.

My neighbor got home before my plane arrived, so I never got to see Heath's chop job. But Quin has picked up a sassy new attitude from the first minute she got her sassy new cut. If you look closely at the picture, Heath is trying to give Carrie a set of bunny ears. . .just another bunny in the tunnel!

Bunnies in the Tunnel

My grandfather had funny sayings for almost every occasion, and whenever we went through a tunnel (which was a frequent event in the Pittsburgh area, where he lived most of his life) he always said:

"Hold your hats and buckle your straps and watch for the bunnies in the tunnel."

This would, naturally, cause all of us to scream with laughter. As IF, we'd think. No bunny would be dumb enough to come into a traffic tunnel. But we always looked anyway, because you never knew what you might see.

That's pretty much our life, in the Crabtree/Deiley/Todd household. You never know what you might see, so it's best to hold on to your hat. Oh - and remember to strap yourself in. There are bound to be some bumpy parts!