Across One April

So. . . how was everybody's April?  Pretty good, pretty crappy, pretty meh?  Ours was busy.

One Easter barnstorms the Hough House, it seems like the last two months of the school year take place in a matter of days.  Suddenly, every single weekend has plans (unlike, say, January or February, where I think one or two things happened, and the rest of the time we just stayed indoors, away from the cold, and watched Netflix.)

Birthdays, weddings, play dates, girl scout troop outings, camping trips (see later post), and tons of illnesses (both human and canine.)  Weekends are now social obligations, separated by a few days of school and work.  This will only grow more hectic as we enter the May/June gauntlet comprised of the girls' birthday parties, end of the school year, holidays, and God knows what else.

Of course, I'll bitch about that at a later time, I'm sure.

In the meantime, here's a look back on some of the day-to-day randomness that transpired throughout the month of April, not previously discussed or displayed.

Slainté.

The first weekend of the month, Alayna randomly created a saddle - complete with stirrups - out of copy paper.  No idea why she decided to do so, nor why she felt it was 'cool' to hang a map up Delaware/DC/Maryland on our fireplace.  I don't ask questions around here anymore.

Photobomb, courtesy of Abby.

Of course she had to try out the saddle.  You know. . . just to make sure it worked.

Later that afternoon, enjoying some beers (and Mariokart 8) over at Chris and Nicole's (and Tucker's.)

Speaking of dogs, Watson decided to vomit all over our living room carpet while we were over at Chris and Nicole's house (that was an awesome thing to come home to, believe you me.)  The next morning, he continued vomiting and wouldn't eat or drink anything.  For the entire day, he remained curled up under a blanket on our living room chair.  We decided that we had no choice but to take him in to the Midland Animal Clinic Urgent Care (which, while open on weekends without appointment, ended up costing an insane amount of money - cowabunga.)

Watson and I hung out here for about two hours. . . to the tune of, oh, $500.  Can I tell you folks how happy I was to drop $500 on this stupid dog?  I could have bought two new dogs for that amount, for Christ's sake. . .

Here's an X-Ray of Watson's torso, showing. . . something.

Kris dropped this outside of the school one morning as she walked the girls in the building.  Yours Truly had to drive up there and scour the area before eventually finding it on a sidewalk (FYI - grown men loitering around an elementary school isn't something our society deems 'legit,' as it turns out.) 

Topless foot baths.

Kris sent me this pic while I was at work one day.  Apparently she found this in our office trash can.

This is a lock of Abby's hair.  Seriously.

You can see the six or seven inches removed at the right, there.  She eventually told us she got gum caught in her hair and was too afraid to tell us about it. . . so she just cut off a shit-load of her hair instead.  Which, as you know, is WAAAAY better.

Fortunately, our neighbor, Danielle, used to work in a salon and has her own hair-cutting station set up in her house.  She was able to take six inches off the rest of Abby's hair and shape it, which not only got rid of Abby's handiwork, but also made her hair look healthier in the process (the girl's been needing to have her ends exterminated for some time.)

Lesson learned.

The weekend following Kris' cousin's wedding (in scenic Romulus, if you'll remember), she had to drive down to Novi in order to attend some dental insurance coding professional development workshop with her coworkers (I don't know about you, but I can't think of anything more mind-blowingly badass than 'dental insurance coding professional development.")  Anyway, this meant Yours Truly had the house to himself (after putting the girls to sleep, of course.)  So this happened.

Kris' apartment away from home.

While Kris was still in Novi, the weather heated up dramatically (for this time of year in Michigan, that is - not like we're still in Florida or anything, people.)  Mid/High-60s and sunny, which is obviously pretty welcome in mid-April around here.  As such, Abby demanded I fill up the pool on the back patio (shown here), but the water was still pretty frigid, and after awhile the kids lost all enthusiasm.

The next day, after Kris got home, we drove up to Clare for my nephew Blake's 12th birthday.  The girls consumed their week's worth of sugar in a single sitting, as usual.

Reading her 'Blue Bag Book' from school.  Abby has skyrocketed in reading this year, and is one of the top readers in her kindergarten class (reading chapter books already.)  She doesn't really care much for these black-and-white books her teacher sends home (which are pretty boring, but are meant to boost her reading levels), so getting her to read them can be a huge pain in the ass. . .

Surprise, surprise:  another child sick.  This time it was Abby, who projectile-vomited into the toilet as we were getting to walk the kids out the door on the way to school.  So, instead, her and I stayed home and indulged in Star Wars movies (the originals, Force Awakens - not the prequels) and Playmobil.

Our neighbors across the street held a birthday party for their oldest son, Levi (Alayna's age).  You can see their lawnmower/barrel "train" thing there on the sidewalk (I've posted about that before, I'm sure.

Channeling the Statue of Liberty in their house during the party.

Alayna and Reba (Levi's little sister, Abby's age).  Dress up's a pretty big deal with these kids.

As the party wound down, the neighborhood moved on down the street to Danielle's (Abby's hairstylist I mentioned earlier in this post) house for a bonfire.  Our kids are constantly playing with their daughter, Sophie, and son, Jackson (whom, apparently, is Abby's "boyfriend". . . or so we're told.)

Playing dress up and slaving away in the kitchen.  This is the kind of shit one comes to find when walking through our house on any given day.

Not the most helpful kitchen staff in the world, I'm sure.

After nearly eight years, we're finally getting rid of the girls' crib.  We had originally decided to hold onto the crib for future use down the road (as it can be converted into a twin bed), but one of Kris' best friends, Kim, is now expecting her first child, and Kris wanted to gift this to her instead (it's still in Like New condition, and was pretty expensive in the first place.)

Hangin' out in the Focus

Helping Kris make some Chick Pea nuggets (like Chicken, only not as good) for dinner.

The verdict is good.  A rarity around these parts, I assure you.

Brushing up on her skills (despite after taking nearly a year off from her piano lessons, Alayna has basically retained everything up to where she was in early April of 2015 - basically, she lost about three lessons worth of skill, which is a hell of  a lot better than we were expecting.)

Introducing Abby to music, courtesy of Great Granny Hough's piano.

- Brian

The Houghs' 500th Episode: An Ol' Timey Hootenanny

Alayna and her posse, pumped and ready for action.

Let me tell you this much, guys:  there's absolutely no way in Hell I would ever teach Elementary School.

I don't mind little kids, but having to wrangle a bus-load of them around for a day?  That's unbridled chaos, folks.  And there's no way I could do that on a day-in, day-out basis.

As a registered volunteer at my kids' school, I occasionally get asked to do things like chaperone class field trips and crap like that.  I try and do it at least once a year 'cause it makes my kids' day to have their dad tag along with their class somewhere (for example, last year I went with Alayna's 1st grade class trip to Green Meadows Farm in Kissimmee.)  Well, this year, Kris signed me up to accompany Alayna's 2nd grade class field trip to the Bradley House here in Midland, followed by a park outing and a trip out to the Midland Chippewa Nature Center.

As usual, I'll fill you in as we go along.  Let's do this.

Our tour guide, introducing us to the Bradley House.  This house was originally constructed by the Bradleys, who were among Midland's first settlers.  They had money.

The house originally stood downtown at the corner of Ashman and Larkin Street, but was lifted off its foundation and moved in 1970 when faced with demolition.  The Midland Historical Society bought the house for $1 (seriously), moved it to its current location (back in the woods behind the hospital, thereabouts), and restored it.

Not sure what those other buildings are:  we didn't go in them.  They did look 'ol timey,' though.

The stable, or carriage house (whatever its called) 

They ended up splitting the class into two groups, so our group hit up this place first while the other group went inside the main house first.  Here, our tour guide had each kid in the group walk up and jump off the coach step (what you would step up onto when boarding a carriage, etc.)

Alayna had initially refused wearing her jacket off the bus, but after ten minutes outside in the Spring air, she began to get cold, so I let her wear my hoodie vest.  

Checking out some old carriages (or coaches - I honestly don't know the difference)

Antique hipster bikes. 

Rolling up some beeswax candles (Alayna and I decided that this would make a cool Mother's Day gift for Kris.)

Some sleighs

The Bradley coach is the fancy blue one with all the frills (frill denotes wealth, I guess - who knows.)

After the carriage house, our guide let the kids try out some stick-and-hoop game in the courtyard while the other group made its way further through the Bradley House.  Needless to say, these kids really, really sucked at it.

The Cannonball busts out her famous Old Lady impression. 

The main receiving room of the Bradley House.  I was informed by the tour guide that none of the pieces of furniture or decor were actually owned by the Bradley family, but rather donated or acquired from antique shops, local businesses, estates, donors, etc. 

In the foyer

Through the main receiving area our guide led us back into the parlor, where all the musical instruments were found. . . 

The Parlor

Alayna tries out an Antique ViewMaster (no, I have no idea what it's actually called.)

An original phonograph, that surprisingly still works.  Our guide played some antique 'records' (more like scrolls that rotate on a spindle, though) for us.  Marches seem to have been the prominent musical choice of the day. 

(That's the Receiving Room to the left.)

Some more instruments (you can see a mandolin and a dulcimer atop the piano, there.) 

Through the Parlor, we were then led into what was definitely my personal favorite room of the house:  the Gentleman's Room (also known as Mr. Bradley's Office.)  No girls - except for the maid - were ever allowed in this room.  Which, to be honest, is just a really, really awesome rule to begin with.

That's a bad ass bookcase, right there.  Lots of antique books inside, too. 

Our tour guide introduces young children to the magical world of cigars, brandy, spittoons, and ledgers.

Speaking of ledgers:  these date from the 1870s.  Still boring to read.

I want a room like this in our next house. 

After we left the 'office,' we snaked our way back to the foyer and continued through to the Dining Room. . .

The Kitchen, or, Mrs. Bradley's Office

An Ol' Timey toaster and some irons.

The daughter's room, upstairs (I think her name was Baby Mae. . .?)

Showing the kids some little kid dresses from the 1880s. . . 

The parents' bedroom.  Straight out of a haunted house.

Women's hair accessories on a dresser.

Describing the bathing process to the class.  Pretty gross stuff.

Alayna and her classmate, Katie, got to try out the maid's bed and give the straw-and-spring mattress a comfort rating.

A floral wreath. . . made of HUMAN HAIR.

A class picture on the front steps of the Bradley House.

(This was my idea.)

We left the Bradley House around 11:30 and drove over to Emerson Park for a quick lunch.  The class had ordered Subway, and some other parents had previously agreed to meet the class there in order to drop off the food (I'm assuming so the bus didn't have to stop at Subway.)

Chowin' down (that's Alayna's teacher, Mrs. Larson, in the grey hoodie.)

Alayna and her BFF, Madison

Burning off calories after lunch

Alivia, Alayna and Madison - these three loved getting their picture taken.

I guess this is the cool thing to do on the school playground slide.  Or so I'm told. 

Arriving at the Chippewa Nature Center, overlooking the Tittabawassee River (I'm not sure how to frickin' spell that.)

Checking out some sheep before heading on to the farm. . . 

A historically-accurate, non-authentic farmer's cabin.  This was built in the 1970s or 80s, and, like the Bradley House, was filled with period-accurate antiques to give you an idea of how people of Midland lived back in the 1880s.  Unlike the wealthy Bradleys, the Sinclair Farm showed how average Middle Class Midlanders dwelled.

Lookin' out the back door. . .

The Sinclair kitchen

 

The main room of the Sinclair house. . .

Another one of those antique ViewMasters.  When you look through the lens, it works exactly the same way - it looks like the images are three-dimensional.

The Cannonball

"Let me tell you kids about the '60s. . ."

Alayna spins some wool yarn

The Midland Fire Department was doing a controlled burn not far from the farm, which, consequently, made everything smell like a campfire.

Checking out the barn and the workshop

Drillin' 

The Workshop

Charging into Battle (I really want to photoshop this pic) 

Another carriage house (you can see one of Alayna's classmates here doing a great Young Brian Hough impression.)

This was getting on everyone's nerves after awhile. . . 

Checking out the farm's one cow.  Most of the farm's animals would be arriving the following weekend, as the Historical Society receives animals on loan from local farms for the summer months.

Looking back towards the Barn

The kids were pretty pissed they couldn't hold the chickens, as they had just arrived from another farm and were too little and cold to be handled (all they wanted to do was crowd together under the heat lamp, pictured here.) 

The Sinclair Farm 

Heading off towards the Root Cellar

I wouldn't mind building something like this, but I'd turn it into a Hobbit Home instead of just a Root Cellar. . .

Right when I walked into this dark, creepy room a spider bit me on the back of the neck.  I didn't want to say anything out loud, though:  shortly afterwards, the tour guide had us shut the door and all the kids had to stand in the pitch-black cellar and try and look for the air ventilation holes.  Not the kind of environment you want to scream "SPIDER!" in.  That's like shouting "FIRE!" in a crowded movie theater. 

Hammin' it up for the camera.  As usual.

She really wanted me to take this picture.  'Cause that's what seven-year-olds think is cool.

(That's the chicken coop off to the left.)

Back on the bus, heading back towards Chestnut Hill and the 21st century.  And a beer.

- Brian