indoor plumbing and grasshoppers

I read the Little House series when I was young (I was 8? 9?) so as Harper and I are reading them aloud I am remembering. I had a vague unease at the beginning of On the Banks of Plum Creek that something sad happened, and I began to recognize the foreshadowing. I had a deep feeling of dread when Pa bought all the materials for the house on credit because the land was so rich and the wheat crop that he labored over was sure to be plentiful. Then his boots are falling apart so he takes $3 from his fiddle case to buy new ones, only he runs into Reverend Alden who just happens to need $3 more to put a bell in the belfry (and here is where I wanted to give Harper a lecture about, "you know, 'church' actually has nothing to do with a building, and as far as Jesus was concerned, the money would have been better spent on Pa's boots than a stupid bell for the belfry" but I refrained and reminded her that the "being mindful of the needs of others" that is part of the prayer we say before meals probably applies here) and so he gives him the money and tries to patch his pitiful boots once more and then the next day the swarm of the millions of grasshoppers descends and eats the wheat and the garden and everything. And Pa can't get his new boots and he can't pay for the house and WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO??? If this is the book in which Jack the dog dies I'm going to have to stop reading, because there are only so many plagues I am ready to explain to a 5 year old.

In other happier, but completely unrelated news, Helena has learned to snap! I think she is a snapping prodigy because Harper just learned a few months ago and Hudson still can't. So, yay for you, little snapper!! She is saying more words now but some of them sound really weird. The word 'spoon' sounds really guttural and she keeps her lips mashed together when she says it: "uuummmnnn" is about as close as I can get to transcribing it. Today I got her to make the 's' sound and then I said "SSSS-poon!" and she parroted back, "Sss. ummmmnnnn." It's cute and hopefully not a sign of some speech disorder.

The toilet in the kids' bathroom is extremely temperamental and insists on getting clogged up at very inopportune times. Though I suppose there is never a good time for plunging. I spent 20 minutes getting it unclogged yesterday and then headed straight for my computer to look for "new construction" houses on har.com in our price range. There are plenty. The only drawback is they are approximately 45 minutes outside of Houston. So, the question is, would I rather have a toilet that flushes when it is supposed to (and sinks that drain properly, and refrigerators that don't require me to mop them out with an entire roll of toilet paper every 3-4 days, and blinds that are not disgusting..) OR would I rather be 14 minutes from the zoo and museum district. Then I think of Ma Ingalls and I'm just glad I'm not crunching on grasshoppers on my way to milk the cow. Grasshoppers that mean my husband will have to walk 300 miles in his broken down boots to get a job. BUT, I don't think I mentioned that I sustained an injury from the plumbing. I can't really move the right side of my torso or neck right now and typing is actually quite painful. I think Ma would consider this fellowship in suffering, right?