Quirky

Over the past 36 hours I have come down with a very unpleasant head cold.  The good news is that I don't have any plans for this evening, so I can rest and prepare a plan of attack for recapturing the house tomorrow after the natives destroy it this evening while I rest.
But I am having trouble thinking clearly.  I've taken several pictures of my people and their activities and such lately, and I had planned to organize them into some clever post.  But with my current inability to focus--thanks in part to my sinuses and in part to the amounts of drugs I have coursing through my veins-- clever is out the window.  Let's go for quirky.
This seems a good place to start.

Poor Elinor met with a great misfortune before starting her school work yesterday.  Tragic.

And look!  The wound is still fresh.  I don't know how she doesn't look to be in more pain?  She must be in shock.
And, no, Elinor, getting your arm chopped off will not get you out of doing your practicing!

We have had a very dry winter, but earlier this week we had our first snow.  It's February and we've just now had our first snow.  As you can see from the picture, it didn't stick around long--just long enough to build a snowman.  Which snowman had a very fulfilling, albeit brief existence. 

This is my girls' death-trap of a bunk bed.  They have developed an intricate system of canopies and hammocks to create separate sleeping spaces.  I'm convinced that some morning I will go in to find one of them strangled in their creation, but Abe assures me they are safe.  Perhaps their snug and secure arrangements remind them of their peaceful time inutero, but I suspect it has more to do with nobody putting their legs in anybody else's sleeping space.

And AH-HA!  Exhibit A!
Faith's foot is lopped over the top of her hammock, encroaching on Elinor's space!

Occasionally my people will present some sort of problem to me for me to exert brain power to solve.  Sometimes they really do need my help, but more often than not, they are perfectly capable of figuring  out a way to solve their problem.  I have been known to respond, "Make it work."
I congratulate my little ladies on making their sleeping arrangements work for them.

George is a heavy drinker.
I am limiting his liquids in hopes of encouraging him to eat his food.  But George is not so easily swayed.  I prop open his mouth (against his wishes) and put some food in his mouth.  In this case it was a bite of grilled cheese sandwich.  He doesn't try to resist or spit out his food, rather he just lets it sit there in his mouth for about 5 minutes, looking at me like I've just poisoned him.  Eventually the saliva breaks it down and he'll swallow it. 
George, there is an easier, more time efficient method to eating. 

Abe kindly offered to prepare some food for the family this evening and I gratefully accepted as I don't feel up to meal prep.  What were his plans?  Fortunately, we'll never know because Elinor reminded me in the nick of time that I'd already made dinner and it was in the fridge ready to go in the oven.  Whoo!  That was a close one-- Abe's not really known for his culinary skills. 

And I'm obviously not known for my clear thinking when on decongestant medicine.