gold spray paint, hanging candle holders, birch trees, diet coke, air conditioning, sunglasses, 3 ring binders, hole punches, sewing machines, file cabinets, baseball caps, campfires, pickup trucks, jogging strollers, calenders, colanders, wire whisks, water heaters, teapots, thermos, ice cube trays, popsicles, flannel, strappy sandals, houseplants, drying racks, sheet music, electricity, central heating, underwire, reading lamps, step ladders, sunglasses, nail polish, tweezers, skates, baskets, coconut, blistex, turkey, raccoons, large dogs, fire alarms, ups, fed ex, alarm clocks, high heeled black boots, running shoes, tights, steve earle, third day, jars of clay, auctions, cordless phones, ships, paper towels, insulated windows, picnic tables, bookcases, fire alarms, shower curtains, cast iron cookware, campfires, melissa etheridge, bananas, thermal carafes, calculators, crazy straws, anti-wrinkle cream, rag rugs, iced tea, home copiers, dsl, northwest airlines, curling irons, christmas lights, facebook, artistic aunts, kindred cousins, squirt guns. to be continued, again…
So, in an attempt to rack up some “I truly am a good mother” points, I bundled Sunny into the stroller, wrapped a blanket around her, and covered her with a rain poncho. Our beloved bike trailer/stroller is almost 11 years old now and the rain cover has long since disappeared.
Anyway, on our little walk to the store, maybe 3/4 of a mile, the temperature began to drop. The rain turned to sleet, then ice pellets. We picked up our milk, and bread, some fruit and headed back out. The ice pellets were still coming down as we walked to the video store to return some movies, and then to pick up the boys after school. All total we spent about an hour walking around town. I was worried that Sunny was going to get cold, as I certainly was!
My fears were unfounded: she was “snug like a rug” she told me upon waking.
In our tiny apartment we had 3 rooms(not including the bathroom) and in those 3 rooms we had a total of 9 bookcases. There was even a bookcase in the kitchen. The bookcases were full. On each shelf, books were stacked on top of books. Vertical, and horizontal, and haphazard. On the floor in each of those 3 rooms, in front of and around the 9 bookcases, were stacks of books. Under our beds were boxes of books. In our car there were bags of books.
Now we are moved into our new house, our 9 bookcases have been joined by at least 2 more, and a coffee table, a great new place to put our books. We have one closet now dedicated to books, 3 cupboards in the kitchen full of books(no room in this kitchen for a true bookshelf), behind a chair in the living room sit 3 baskets full of library books, and still, boxes and boxes of books to be unpacked and organized.
Broder has been getting his hair cut into a Mohawk for over a year now. Yet, every-time I take him in to the salon(fancy word for the kind of $10 haircut place I take the kids to), the woman who cuts his hair questions this.
“Are you sure you want a Mohawk?”
“Is this really what you want?”
“A Mohawk? Really?”
“Is your mom OK with this?”
Mind you, I(the mom) am ALWAYS sitting right there. How often does an 8 year old waltz into a place and request a hair cut without an adult accompanying?
Broder, being Broder, looks at the woman and says:
“It’s OK, I have a Mohawk personality.”
started and awaiting a final look over, or sitting in my head waiting to get out. Maybe I am still recovering from the shock of my makeover.
Dave is home now, so we have been busy doing to the final move-in stuff, hanging pictures, unpacking the last random boxes we had piled in the garage.
I hope to get a chance to write more in the next couple of days. Infertility(not mine), the loss of a child(not mine), the time-sucking hole that is Facebook(my problem), the search for a great Rueben sandwich (check out “pressed but not crushed” for my inspiration on this one). Then there is ice-fishing at -10(more proof of insanity). Two 40th b-day parties last weekend(getting old, Dave is next).
Maybe later today. I have to go make oatmeal for the kids now, want to send them off to school with full warm bellies.
Last night my dreams were dominated by a long distance running Hassidic Siamese cat who paints religious art and struggles with the question of what is better, the Whopper or the Big Mac, in the hot Kansas sun, while fighting a giant bean eating bumblebee: all this under the delusion that he is really a Chihuahua from Mexico who needs to make sure that the true message of the Gospel is heard throughout the world.
Since the strongest mood altering chemical I have ever used is caffeine, I can only assume that this night of mine was fueled by the myriad of books that I read(or read parts of) at some point yesterday.
Here is the list:
The Messiah of Morris Avenue
My Name is Asher Lev
In Everything Give Thanks
Coke or Pepsi