Before I get started on the many and varied tales of this past weekend, I'm going to take a moment to direct you towards my latest gig. I'm really excited about this one, both because it's a company I admire and because the writing is turning out to be loads of fun, so if you'd come by and visit me at the Iddy Biddy Blog and say hello, I would probably tell you how pretty you are. (Cliff Notes version: It's a blog about going green for those of us "regular" folks who either cannot or will not immediately give up everything less-than-ideal.) Okay. So. This weekend! Oh, how we laughed! Oh,...
Things have been terribly boring here. All we did this weekend was go trick-or-treating, drive down the road in a truck that was on fire, soothe our football sorrows with copious amounts of chicken wings, and drown half a dozen children who didn't belong to us. What? More tomorrow when I can (possibly) string together a cohesive thought.
I meant to sit down and write something this morning, before I had to drop everything and take Monkey up to the orthodontist to get braces installed on every remaining tooth and possibly a few of his limbs, but as usual, I didn't get it done. I was too busy doing work things. And also soup things. I do love my crockpot, but some day I'm going to figure out how to remember that when recipes call for a metric buttload of chopped vegetables I should probably take care of that the night before, rather than while checking email and making phone calls and freaking out about everything that needs...
Many thanks to everyone who took the time to share in the last post how they handle kids and activities and arranging bread on their skulls while laying on the floor. I really enjoyed reading the array of responses, and confess that it was a relief for me to read that my kids aren't the only ones activity-hopping. I guess I have concerns about them never finding their "thing," (or, alternatively, giving up on the thing that they're actually quite adept at---swimming is the first sport Chickadee's shown real potential in, and her reaction is a resounding "whatever"), but yes, of course, y'all...
Although the few natives I've met 'round here have made it painfully clear that I will forever and always be a YANKEE (said with either a touch of disdain or, alternatively, a healthy dollop of incredulity, as if declaring me to have four extra toes), the time has come to admit that I have become a southerner in one very important respect: I can no longer handle Winter. The irony here is plentiful, seeing as how my hysterectomy has greatly decreased my tolerance for extreme heat and has me perpetually teetering on the edge of a hot flash. I knew this before I moved to one of the hottest...
Having the parental units in-house is a marvelous experience that makes me yearn for those days of yore when multiple generations shared a dwelling as a matter of course. Back then I'm sure that everyone got on everyone else's nerves and someone was always pounding on the bathroom outhouse door screaming that they needed to get in, HURRY UP, but from here I can paint a picture of total domestic bliss worth coveting. (Not that I've ever been known to distort the facts to suit my fancy. Nuh uh.) And now everything will go back to normal---back to school, back to work, back to meals being an...
I think it's a testament to my GROWTH as a peaceful and centered human that I have neither maimed nor belittled anyone (to their face, anyway) in our current school district. Why, just last year, what's happening right now would've caused my head to explode in a stunning geyser of expletives and indignation! Instead, I am "gathering information" and "working through the proper channels" and "drinking a lot." And bitching to you, of course. (Also, I am not drinking a lot. My mother once told me that anyone reading my blog would assume I'm a heavy drinker, but I beg to differ. Anyone reading...
I don't know that I have ever laughed so hard in my entire life as I did at the many and varied responses to my double mystery post this weekend. First of all, y'all have some excellent costume ideas (cereal killer! HAAAAA!!) for sure. And a trip to Goodwill yielded a boy-sized... well, it's not a trenchCOAT, but it is sort of a trenchJACKET, plus it wins the thumbs-up by virtue of having The Right Price, which in this case was $2.30. He desperately wants to wear sunglasses, but I am JUST THINKING that may not work for nighttime trick-or-treating, so the ol' fake-glasses-and-moustache may be...
When I got up this morning, I walked into the kitchen and stepped in a puddle in front of the kitchen sink. (This is rarely a good way to start the day.) In our case, though, it turned out to be less annoying and more extremely perplexing---investigation revealed the puddle to be some sort of cleaning fluid (I suspect the sort of "general cleaner" I sometimes buy by the jug), but we cannot figure out the source. I mean, in front of the sink, there, I expected either some sort of catastrophic plumbing issue or a bottle in the under-sink cabinet gone capsized. And... nothing. We can find...
