Random, Random, Random

Have you ever experienced that moment when you're lying in bed, at midnight, and you hear this loud beep that pierces your ears? Well, I have. And so has Narthea. It was our smoke alarm trying to communicate (in a very loud manner *rolls eyes*) that it's batteries were dead. *sigh* We tried to ignore it at first, but I couldn't stand it any longer. I got out of bed, huffed all the way to the schoolroom, grabbed a chair, drug it back to our bedroom, stood on it, climbed up on our chest-of-drawers and tried to figure out how to make the angry smoke alarm stop screaming at us. I did eventually figure out how to remove the batteries, and I hopped down from the chest-of-drawers, crawled back in my bed, and closed my eyes. Just as I was about to doze off, you'll never guess what started screaming at us again: The smoke alarm. This time, I was not much of a happy camper, and I was on the verge of leaving the camp sight. Thankfully, it stopped beeping altogether, before I went over there and ripped it from the ceiling. Haha! (No, I would never have done that, but it sounded like a good idea).

Well, dad isn't doing a whole lot better today. Mom thinks he's worse. Poor thing. He's getting VERY frustrated because when he talks to us, the things he says don't always make sense, so we're never on the same page. Now he just won't talk at all because he's so frustrated. A couple from our Church came over last night and we prayed for dad. Mom was telling him yesterday that she has to take Narthea to the dentist on Thursday and he said, "That's okay. I'll be better by then." I mean, he didn't exactly say that, but that's what he was communicating. Mom figured out that dad can read and understand us, better than he can hear and understand. We got one of our dry erase boards and now we use that to communicate. But, sometimes you'll write something on there (like, say, we mention the word "food") and then a few minutes later he'll say something (out o' the blue) like, "Why are you saying I can't have any food?" Which, we didn't say. Mom says it's called 'perseverating', and dad doesn't like it.

I went outside in the terrible Texas heat this morning to mow. I didn't realize that the grasshoppers have started coming out, until I got on the mower, started mowing and I looked on the hood to see a bunch of grasshoppers, sitting on it, staring at me. Yeah, it was kind of creepy. I don't like grasshoppers. I was afraid they were all going to go into attack mode (like they always do) and start injecting their poison in me, so I dove for it, and tumbled onto the grass, hoping they wouldn't follow. I immediately stood up, ready for anything.......

Now, we all know that grasshoppers aren't poisonous, and we all know how stupid it is to jump off a moving mower to escape them (and their beady little eyes). So, just in case you're wondering, "no", I did not vacate the mower to escape some green, hoppy-happy bugs. I just took off my cap, swung it at 'em, and they all jumped off. Except for one who jumped onto my hat (which was stupid), because then I had a little talk with him about how if he didn't get off of my cap that instant, I would feed him to my chickens. Let's just say he decided it would be better to frolic with his grasshopper friends, than stare down a chicken's throat. :)

Needless to say, I still don't like grasshoppers.

After mowing, I came inside and took the coldest shower in history, then got a drink of water, and here I am. Sitting in front of the computer telling you about my terribly dramatic, and terrifying experience while chopping down the grass and stubborn weeds in our yard.

Why did I tell you all of this? I have no idea. :)

Love,

~Eldarwen Failariel~