My Flashy Family

Here's something I heard this morning from Emmett:

"Mom, Ella's flashing me!"

What's funny is that they were both in the bath at the time. And he actually was saying that she was "splashing" him. But his "sp" sounds always come out "f." So Spiderman is Fiderman. And a spoon is a foon.

What's even funnier, is he was standing up in the bath at the time he said that, so in actuality, he was flashing her, for real.

;) Karissa

Retaining Wall (Jared)

re-tain (verb)
  1. Continue to have (something); keep possession of
  2. Not abolish, discard, or alter
  3. Absorb and continue to hold

Ahh, the retaining wall.  At least it was properly named.  It continued to have weeds, would not discard them, and it continued to hold onto them year after year. 

Mom already brought you down memory lane in regards to this treasured side of our Antioch house, but I'm going to bring it up again...and again...and again.  It's only appropriate that the retaining wall come up again just like the weeds did every summer.  Honestly, I thought I was going to die up there.  It would only be appropriate - I could just lie down right there next to the lot of our deceased animals.  But, fortunately each summer I escaped, though only after much hardship clearing the weeds. 

I remember that as summer approached every year I began to wonder when the mandate would be given: "This Saturday we're going to clear the weeds from the retaining wall!"  I think the first few years of clearing weeds we actually gave it a good effort, and I remember we all discussed (and got somewhat excited about) what we would do with the space.  But, after a couple of years, we each started to lose hope as we recognized that it was more of an annual workout than an attempt to do anything with the space once the weeds were cleared. 

As the years went on, our efforts turned from "clearing" weeds to merely just turning them over.  Step 1: insert shovel, and lift.  Step 2: if there is a big clump of weeds that's easy to grab (and doesn't have anything prickly), pull it out and throw it in the bucket.  Step 3: otherwise, turn the shovel and immediately dump.  Step 4: kick and spread the dirt to hide the overturned weeds.  Step 5: repeat.

Though I must say, the retaining wall actually wasn't half as bad as the space between the wall and the house.  That stretch of space felt like our own little jungle and it even made the view outside my bedroom window feel a little more "exotic".  I remember many tennis balls disappeared in there and we even almost lost the kayak back there.  Even poor Molly wouldn't even go near that side of the house!

The Burrup way

I have to be real quick so I can go do my chores...or really it's prepare my talk but still considered a chore.

Coming from a big family we were not given individual chores but all required to participate together.  And my mom required her house to be clean and organized while my dad required a beautiful yard.  And they had the man power so why not.  I used to say that my mom had 7 kids so that she had people to clean her house.  Not a very gracious thing to say.  Childish, perhaps.

But I hated pulling weeds every Saturday morning while the neighbor kids started out on their bikes or to play ball.  One way out of it was to complain about allergies only to be sent it to clean house with my mom.  So our only real way out was to do a good job the first time.  My dad came around and checked our work before dismissing us.

Now I despise doing the dishes.  But like my mom I need a clean and organized home to function properly so I make sure that, like Nelleen, I clean as I go.  That is probably the only reason Jared and I do not enjoy making beautiful culinary masterpieces together.  But just like pulling weeds, I've learned that the only way out of chores is to do them and be done with it.  Well, I do have one trick.  If I'm really desperate, I ask Jared to do it and he is such a sweetheart that he does it.

Erin

Hm...chores.

Well, quite honestly, I don't remember HATING any chores. It wasn't my favorite thing to do but I knew it was expected. The boys went outside to do yard work and I cleaned the bathrooms and my room and often times the kitchen. I do remember complaining that I had more to do then them but that's a different story.

The one thing I disliked the most about chores has become a family joke. Kevin would disappear to the bathroom after dinner every night when it was time to clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. We'd tell my parents he was faking it but they never believed us and in order to avoid arguments, wouldn't make him come help. He did this for ten years! Now, it's a big joke and Kevin admits that it was completely on purpose. I hope his kids do that to him someday ;)

As an adult I have a hard time doing anything involving floors. I hate mopping, sweeping and vacuuming. Not really sure why, it's just not something I think about very often and hate the prep-work to mop. Erik knows I don't like to unload the dishwasher either so he can always tell when they're clean cause the dishes will start to pile up in the sink :) Don't worry, it still gets done every day!!!

Sorry I'm kinda boring huh. Wish I had some fun story but I've recognized that the Moll parents must really like straight lines....yes?! :)

-Lisa

My Love For Grass

Mother: "Erik, it is your turn to mow the lawn today."

Erik: "gggggrrrr."

Varoom! Varoom! ..putt...putt...putt...Varoom! Varoom! ....choke....choke...choke... Varoom! Finally!!!!!!!

The lawn mower finally started but now I need to go ice my shoulder down. After a quick ice break I am off to mow the lawn. This time it is different because I am not in the mood. Our lawn isn't really large and honestly it isn't all that difficult to mow. But today there are two things I don't want to do; mow the lawn and shovel the dog poop off the lawn before mowing it.

The grumpy gene is boiling within me and my stubbornness is becoming more visible. I quickly map my plan out in my head and begin my artwork. I gently position the lawn mower in position, but in order to do so the lawn mower can't be on. Fearing the lawn mower won't start again, I take the chance and shut it down. With the mower in position, it miraculously starts on the first pull. Slowly I walk the mower in a straight line and with care I lower the handle to the grass while lifting the mower away from the lawn turning on a 335 degree turn so that it doesn't cut the grass. I quickly eye my line and start in a straight line again. When I have reached my point, I once again lower the handle toward the grass lifting the mower away from the lawn and make the necessary turn on the proper angle without cutting the grass. The mower is then lowered and I continue in a straight line. I have reached my ending point and now have to turn off the mower again to reposition.

A few feet away from my previous cuts, I eyeball my position and start the mower. Today must be my day because it starts again with ease. This time I gently move the mower at a slow and steady rate as if I am walking around an oval track. I return to my starting point and with a grin on my face I shut the mower down. I am done! I empty the mower bag and return the mower to its resting place in the garage.

The shoes are left at the sliding glass door and I cheerfully inform my mother that the task has been completed. At the moment she responds with a sense of gratitude but what she doesn't know is that I just gracefully mowed the letters "N" and "O" in the lawn.

...total time to completion = I don't remember but I do know it took longer than it would have if I had just mowed the lawn like normal.

Thankfully mother has a wonderful sense of humor!

P.S. I didn't shovel the poop before mowing. I learned quickly that it either gets sucked up into the bag or chopped up like and onion and spit out the sides of the mower.

The Chore That Never Ended

I know I could tell you all about the horrors of the chores of childhood such as cleaning the base-boards of the walls with a toothbrush, or picking raspberries off of their vines while getting mercilessly scratched by the tiny thorns so my mother could turn the raspberries into yummy jam, but those are honestly not the chores I dreaded the most!!

The chore I dreaded the most was weeding the retaining wall in our backyard in Antioch! And I dreaded dragging my four children into the never-ending job, but I so needed your help. It was not a one person job! Every year the weeds would come back in full force. Every year Dad and I would talk about doing something with that retaining wall so we wouldn't have to worry about it any more and every year, somehow, nothing would get done.

The weeds seemed to grow stronger and multiply each year. I had many a little talk with Adam under my breath that maybe being sent out of the Garden of Eden to "till the land" was not such a great idea (but I knew otherwise.)

Not only were the weeds the problem, the Antioch dirt or clay, I should say, made it even worse. The clay was so hard you couldn't weed unless the ground was wet, but once it was wet, it stuck to your shoes, so by the time you were done weeding you stood six to eight inches taller!! Then you had to wait for the mud to dry and spend another hour with the kitchen knife scraping all the lovely Antioch dirt off of your shoes. Yep, I hated that job!!

I hereby apologize profusely to my four cohorts for making them suffer along with me.

Love, Mom

The Chore I Abhorred

So, growing up, I had many chores I did grumblingly. But the one I hated the most was vacuuming. And it wasn't so much the actual vacuuming I hated, it was just that, for some reason, whenever it was my turn to do it, it seemed Dad was on one of his Kadafi kicks, and he was in charge of making sure we did our work. Right! Yes Sir!

And Dad was never satisfied when you vacuumed, unless he could see the vacuum lines in our nice plushy carpet. I'd have him check, and he'd see a spot that didn't have the lines, so I'd have to do it over.

So, after a short time, I figured out that if I got the dustpan out, when no one was looking, I could "scrape" those lines into the carpet, and it looked great. So that's what I did. I'd vacuum the major parts of the room. Then under the tables, near the chairs, etc., I'd scrape lines into the carpet with the dustpan.

Not sure if it really saved me much time and effort, but for some odd reason, it made me feel better! I'm sure Mom is possibly grossing out at the image though.....guess it's a good thing we moved.....

Karissa