Whiskey Pickles

Two weeks (or so) ago, Emile and the kids went to a small music festival while I was at the book exchange. I've been trying to talk Emile into guest-blogging the experience, but it hasn't happened yet so I thought I'd make a small gesture towards it. It was Pipes and Barrels, a festival which drew our attention mostly because Myshkin would be playing there, and also because it was taking place at her newly-completed cob studio a mere 50 miles north of us. Myshkin's recent house concert less than a mile from our rural door was canceled due to some sort of accident involving a cat which left her unable to play her guitar... so we appreciated the second chance.

It turns out the festival crowd and atmosphere were both cool and... interesting. Emile can expand on it later (he claims the intent is still there). The most important part (from the kids' retelling of events) is that Myshkin's housemate had a 10 week old puppy and she was happy to spend a great deal of time playing with the kids. The dog's name? Whiskey Pickles! The next day, Larkin was busily creating art and I was informed that it was a card for Whiskey Pickles:

So, yes, I have now officially sent mail to a dog. Emile bought Myshkin's new album while he was there and when we played it the next day, Larkin very casually said, "Oh yeah, Myshkin... I know Myshkin." She has major name-dropping potential.

In other news, Larkin is constantly singing songs in some yet-to-be-determined language.

Finn has mastered the art of positive affirmation.
Me: I'm going to wash some dishes.
Finn: I LOVE washing dishes... do you love washing dishes?
Me: Um, yeah, it's okay.
This routine is repeated about all minutiae of daily life, although my enthusiasm generally waxes and wanes depending on the activity in question.

Emile and I went out without the kids for the first time since this whole crazy kid business started. We attended an evening concert that (gasp) overlapped the time the kids are generally winding down for bed. I'm sure Les Claypool was thrilled to have us in the audience, and Grandpa Don and Grandma Vicki declared the evening a success with (barely) a hitch.

We also remembered our anniversary this week for the first time in at least three years. We remember declaring intent to have another big wedding party after 10 years, but... um, that would be next year... and we're tired.