Our sick month has brought one certain thing to my attention:  this overly cautious boy of mine is not a fan of snot.  He can’t stand the stuff.  He doesn’t like even a drip coming out of his nose, and has a nice handle on the whereabouts of the nearest…

YaYa was practicing oboe in the piano room.  I was sitting on the futon in the cabin room, all the way across the house, typing on my laptop, enjoying the sounds of one of my progeny making music.  Across the room, Mr. Sneaky Pants was sitting by the fire. Nonchalantly,…