Day One Hundred Seventy-Three

When the world is literally on fire, it's a pretty great time to focus on the resident 6-year old because she is the Queen of Distraction. Not only is she distracted by every last thing, she can distract anyone from anything.

I mean, almost. It's not like I've forgotten how very furious I am about the recording that leaked today.

ANYWAY.

The resident distraction is officially befuddling me. I cannot for the life of me figure out how it is that the kid who is several days ahead with her schoolwork cannot read a simple passage on demand. For real. Somehow Mila, a master of procrastination, has found her way to being several days ahead. She is flying through her math assignments, kicking butt at her writing work, and definitely reading at her grade level. I was in a meeting this morning and could hear her down the hall reading just as I would expect a 6-year old to read. A little choppy, but getting really close to having more words be automatic.

I HEARD HER.

And yet, just a few hours later, we went to do a story walk. A story walk, for the record, is a thing at some parks around town. The library partners with the park and puts up poster boards with book pages spread all around a walking path. Basically, you read a page, walk a few hundred feet, and read the next page. It's a pretty cool little thing and we've been enjoying it all summer.

This week's book is Chicka Chicka 1 2 3. It's an easy enough book, certainly on par with where I expect Mila's skills to be. AND YET. The kid could not focus for half a second and read a page. It was a battle from beginning to end. Half the time she wasn't even looking at the pages as she tried to sound out words, which is pretty fantastic when you have the patience of a gnat like I do.

It took over an hour to get through the book. AN HOUR.

And yet, just this morning, she read a book just fine when she didn't know I could hear her.

WHY DOES THE KID REFUSE TO READ WHEN I'M AROUND?

WHY?

Seriously, she's an expert at distracting me.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Two

I have a proclamation to make, y'all.

2020 IS HERETOFORTH BANNED FROM MAKING ANY MORE ANIMALS RAIN UPON MY PROPERTY.

So far in 2020, we've had the Koi drama. We've also had a swimming bat. Remember Rainbow Marshmallow? I sure do because at sunset every night, bunches of bats appear above our yard ( ... I haven't figured out where they're coming from, and I have thoughts about whether or not I should seek that knowledge, all things considered). I immediately think one of those bats might be Rainbow Marshmallow and I hope the little jerk doesn't decide to go for another swim.

Seriously, I lose ten minutes of my life to watching for swimming bats. Every day. Still.

We've also had a snake issue this year. It's not quite as bad as the words placed in a sentence may seem, to be honest. There's a little garter snake that wants to live near the pond. It had managed to avoid capture for quite some time, but then I caught it this past weekend and escorted it to a place far, far away. And then I walked it a little bit further.

Don't get any crazy ideas, by the way. I was close-ish to the snake long enough to get it into a pond net, and then I carried it at arm's length in the net. It was seriously 8 feet away from me as we went for a stroll. A little bit of fire might have made the situation better, but generally it was fine.

So. Snake. Escorted. FAR away.

It was back again yesterday? I think? I can't be 100% sure if the same snake was by the pond or if there are two snakes. But the one that was sitting on top of a bush by the front door today? DEFINITELY NOT THE SAME ONE.

For the record, it's a long ways from the pond to our front door. I have to think that particular snake likely lives under our front stairs. I will be setting them on fire tomorrow just to be safe. Wait. Does concrete burn? I might need to learn how to make some sort of explosive device. It's better safe than sorry.

BUT THE SNAKES ARE NOT THE WORST OF IT.

There is an evergreen happily growing on the side of the house. It's about 6.5 feet tall at this point, well on its way to the majestic 50 feet it will eventually reach. Somewhere around my eye level, a morning dove had made a nest. She was pretty much a giant bird with a giant nest and giant eggs. I don't know why she decided to try to have babies this late in the year or why she built her nest in a fairly accessible location, but that is a choice she paid for.

Didja notice all the past tense back there? WAS a giant bird. WAS. All that's let of her now is a few feathers ...

...

...

...

AND HER HEAD.

Something (a coyote? that's honestly the most likely scenario) raided the nest a few days ago. Apparently it was quite the scene because there are feathers E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. Seriously, it looks like someone placed an explosive device in the nest. So many feathers.The babies remains seem to be scattered in one area, and then there are the mama's remains. Or, rather, her head. It's sitting a few feet from where I turn on the hose water to make plants happy.

Which is something I geniunely have to do.

And the head doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

And that's it. Good thing the girls are in virtual school because we're setting the house on fire and moving somewhere with lots of concrete and no wild animals.

Day One Hundred Seventy-One

I spent the majority of the weekend putting the pond back together. FINALLY. It's like 98% done at this point, with the only thing remaining being hiding one of the filter boxes. It's a simple enough task and will only take about 20 minutes, but I can't.

I just can't.

Mila is making pond life insanely complicated.

The kid is totally and completely obsessed with chasing frogs around. She catches them and frees them and then catches them again. It's a relatively simple task, honestly, because there are A LOT of frogs. I didn't put them in there, for what it's worth, so I consider them fair game for Mila. Don't crash a party unless you're willing to mingle with the people who were invited, you know?

Besides, I can't stop the Tiny Terror.

The kid can't be stopped.

First of all, she magically shows up whenever I go outside. I don't even know how she knows considering I've been sneaking out of the house. Somehow she magically appears the second I start hauling rocks around or digging or whatever. EVERY TIME. Maybe she has security cameras set on the pond? I wouldn't put it past her.

So, Mila shows up and starts chasing frogs. Because I'm nice, I have a "designated Mila zone" around 2/3 of the pond. There are rocks strategically positioned for her to stand on, but a rule that ... STOP CLIMBING IN THE DAMN POND, MILA.

I swear. Every time I look over, she has her head tipped upside-down so she can peak under the rock she's sitting on. How she hasn't fallen in is a complete mystery because she sure is trying. She's had her feet in the water a whole bunch of times as well. And the 1/3 that's off limits? HAHAHAHAHA. She forgets constantly. CONSTANTLY. Although, I'm not sure I believe the "I forgot" line considering that if I make eye contact with the kid and ask, "Where's the purple leaf?" the kid FREAKS THE HELL OUT.

She knows she has wandered past the purple leaf (there's a bugleweed plant that marks the border on one side).

I sent the kid to time out for breaking the pond rules three times in less than an hour today. How is that even possible? I DON'T KNOW. I do know that the 20 minutes I need to hide that filter box will take approximately 8 hours in Mila time, so whatever. WHATEVER.

It's never happening.

Or at least it's not happening until little Bindi Irwin decides to harass some other animals.