Girl with swing and clock

Well, I had all these nice pictures to upload accompanied by interesting and thought-provoking commentary but I can't find my pictures folder ... anywhere. Dave was up to something with the computer and I remember him mentioning something about moving folders and culling pictures but, of course, I just sort of nodded my head and went on with things. And now, here I am, on Monday morning with no pictures and a husband who is four hours away with a cell phone that keeps telling me that the customer I am trying to reach is currently unavailable. Grrr.
So, I will tell you that I was going to post photos of our new backyard swings built by the man with the non-functional cell phone. They are really quite beautiful as only something made by hand and saving us $25 per swing can be. They also work beautifully and the kids have more reason to spend time outside. Hannah helped a lot with the swing-making over the weekend and proved to be a wonderful junior carpenter.
However, when not holding wood or balancing rope, she got into a little mischief. I blame this foray into lawlessness on my dad who visited last week and bought copious amounts of jelly beans and other candy. Consequently, Hannah had brightly coloured candy on her mind. So, on Saturday night while I was making supper she came running into the house looking distressed and spitting out the contents of her mouth.
"What are you doing, Hannah?"
"I picked up a blue candy off the ground and bit it but it was filled with yellow, gooey stuff!"
Already beginning to understand, "Did it look like an Easter egg?"
"Yes," nodding vigorously.
Taking her by the hand and going outside, "Show me what you ate."
She searched madly around the yard, near the teeter-totter, the swing, the base of the tree. And then I saw what I was looking for, "Is this it, Hannah?"
Running over to me, "Yes, yes."
"You bit a robin's egg."
"Oh."
"Good thing we washed out your mouth."
Truthfully, I was surprised that Hannah was pretty unfazed by her brush with raw egg. I think that I would have been a little more upset. I guess having three brothers toughens up a little girl. And for any readers who find what is going on in the background while I write my posts interesting: Benjamin is repeating his favourite mantra - Bawack Obama's bad - I think he heard his name mentioned on the CBC news; Jacob is reading over my shoulder and finding out for the first time about Hannah's robin-egg eating; Hannah is drawing and casually answering Jacob's robin egg queries with, "Yeah, I ate a robin's egg. I thought it was candy." No big deal.
And now we're off to prepare for swimming lessons. I feel for the kids - the lessons are at the lake and it don't look too warm out there.
Oh, Jacob wants everyone to know that each of the kids have alarm clocks so that they don't come out of their rooms until the numbers 7:15 appear. Amazingly, and much to their chagrin, they slept this morning until the numbers 7:23 appeared. God is good.
p.s. The slightly odd title is my attempt to create titles that sound more like post-modern art exhibits - my sister will understand.