Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
These were the wonderful veggies I scored from Andrea's garden: fresh tomatoes and basil (Crostini for dinner last night), a cabbage, some carrots and lots of fresh potatoes. I feel rich. Like royalty. To dine on such fresh, beautiful veggies.
And there, hiding in the potatoes, as I washed this one off...a BIRD! A little baby bird. Beak, tufts of feathers on the crown, little wing stubs on each side, little foot stubs on the bottom, little eyes on each side of the head and a pointed tail.
See, eyes on each side. Last week I saw a lady on Jay Leno who had a heart shaped potato. Big whoop. Look at this bird! How do I take this to fame and fortune? Before it shrivels and rots into an unrecognizable lump of vodka? Anybody know. Funny how this landed right after I posted on gods message from the sky. Are birds my omen of something? I was kind of holding out for dollar bills stuck in unsuspecting places. Not necessarily birds. But this is definitely interesting, no?
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
This weekend I haven’t much on the calendar. I was invited to go with a friend to watch a high school football game this evening. I declined. My gut told me no. Why? Truthfully, I don’t want to feel as old as I think I will feel sitting in the stands watching goofy kids make out and be…well, just normal goofy kids. Just thinking about it makes me feel old. My friend asked me why I didn’t want to go. I thought about why my instant answer was “no thank you.” I was self aware enough to know it was the age thing. Then I turned down an offer to go on a road trip with another friend. My gut told me no. Why? I kinda just want to hang around and do nothing. I haven’t done that in a while.
I am going to be spending most of Saturday working at the new Heart and Home Center, helping them get set up to open for business soon. It will be fun hanging out with friends, doing the dirty work together, laughing about the silly things people donate to the center. Sunday is whip the garden into shape day, followed by church at 6:00. Sounds good, right? In the midst of that I have got to catch up the laundry. ‘Else I’ll be wearing my underwear inside out next week. And I am kind of disgusted with having to smell the armpits of my clothes to decide whether I can get away with wearing them again. So laundry is a definite “to do.”
So, why do I feel like I need to have a better answer when I get asked “Got any good weekend plans?” The little girl liar in me fights to make up something thrilling. Like “I’ll be going on a 30 mile hike, followed by dinner in town before catching a play at the Rep.” The little girl liar in me wants to pretend that the cleaning lady will take care of the house cleaning and laundry I must do while I go sailing with friends. And then check out the opening of the Bravern where Jimmy Choo Shoes, Louis Vuitton and Neiman Markus are opening up (though I have to admit I am pretty excited that there will be an Anthropologie and a Trophy Cupcake shop nearby). That’s what all the “it people” are doing this weekend. I am so not it. OK, the sailing would be nice. And I’m sure I’ll take up an offer on something like that soon enough. But I plan to be content just doing laundry, helping out at the shop and doing anything else I can get my butt motivated enough to get off the couch to do. Which may be nothing else.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tonight I put together some things to send back with someone returning to Sudan.
Prints of pictures for these mamas. They have never had pictures of their own children. Of their own beautiful selves.
Monday, September 14, 2009
On Saturday Mark (my Wasbund) dropped off Andy along with three large boxes of the remanents of my life in the old house. Things I really had no idea I was missing. There were some ski things, several framed prints that had hung in our old house that were clearly more "my things" than "our things", a scrap book from our engagement and wedding planning (he must have kept the wedding album), a highschool yearbook of mine, my college diploma and transcripts and several other odds and ends of the same sort.
Andy went to bed and I opened the wine. And drank.
Drank in the things in this box.
And here are the lies I discovered that I have been telling myself (most go back to my single digit years). Lies I realized and now have been able to dispell (I think...for now...for this moment):
- I was a homely, chubby ugly girl that couldn't believe that someone as gorgeous as Mark would actually be interested in enough to be seen with me in public, let alone marry me. (wrong....I see that now)
- Our relationship was not good from day one (wrong...we went into the marriage, happy, full of hope, thinking we could take the world on together and come out on top)
- I am a drag to be with (no sirreee...I can, and did hold my own in a crowd)
- See above. Are those green M&M's and check out the talented tongue (see lie below)
- I am a prude (umm no....just because I was a worn out mother and because I looked for other ways...in addition...to try to relate to my oversexed spouse does not a prude make me)
- I got terrible grades and am so not an academic (read "I am not very smart"). Well my memories of college are just barely scraping by, living on the edge of flunking out. I couldn't believe when I saw my old transcripts that I never got less than a B- in any of my college classes and that I got through HS with something comfortably over a 3.00. I would be thrilled if Andy had just one college semester with no class grade less than a B-.
- See first bullet. This is my sophmore HS picture. Andy says I look like Orphan Annie. Well wasn't she adorable? Yes, it's a bit dorky with the curls (major perms). But I was shocked to see that I wasn't appauling.
It seems so weird to see these things. Like I am looking through a box of things that belonged to someone else. Who was that girl in the box? How do I rewire myself to be that girl instead of the one in my head? It may take a few more bottles of wine...
I was so thrilled to be invited to go to the fair with Jill and the kids. In my book the fair has to be done with kids.
Animals were entertaining
Sam showed Natalie a bunny. The bunny was very curious about us too.
Sam helped me go down the big slide. We screamed. A lot.
And Jill was like the third child. I have never seen an adult so excited for the fair. It was the fair food!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
I have “ignored” many requests to be friends. But it feels mean. Like I am saying “no, I don’t want to be your friend.” Which isn’t the truth. I just don’t want to have a Facebook relationship. Though it feels like I am in 7th grade and have determined that someone can’t be in my group of friends. I hated having that done to me in 7th grade. I hate doing it to others now that we are way past 7th grade. But I really don’t want people I don’t have much interaction with to be privy to my everyday stuff. Or my friends' every day stuff. And then there’s the guy who is on the friend list of a mutual friend. Every time I post something on my friend’s wall he invites me to be his friend. Every time I push that little ignore button. Umm, is he familiar with the saying “She’s just not that in to you”? This is one I really do not want to be a friend with. Let’s get a clue, buddy. And me? Well I am too self protective to ask to be anybody’s friend that I think might not want me to be. I don’t want to feel that 7th grade rejection. And so I don’t even set myself up to be ignored. (By the way….this is a major reason why I have not even ventured onto the on-line dating thing. I’d rather live with the fantasy that I might possibly be winked at by a decent possibility than face the possible truth that nobody would be interested in me. I am avoiding 7th Grade all together! Ha.)
And then on Facebook, I can’t help but play the 6-degrees of separation game. I check out the friends of my very limited set of friends (I mean the Facebook ones). And then if I recognize a potential connection I check out the friends of that friend of a friend. And so it goes. Which is how I ended up in the very sick place of realizing that my Wasbund has more Facebook friends than I do. Ewww ick. Ick because I find that I care. Ick because, well, in my humble opinion, he’s just icky. Ick because I find that I care even though I suspect that he’s accepted every invitation he’s ever received to be on Facebook and I, as I said earlier, am being particular so ick that I should even feel badly that on Facebook terms he has more friends. But mostly ICK because I actually did this: followed thread of friend to friend to friend to find that my ex and I are at 4 degrees of separation. Why couldn’t I leave well enough alone?
To which Sam, who was very determined to give a really good answer though he had no idea really what time he goes to bed…just knew it was related to numbers and he had to come up with something, responded “Well, I usually go to bed, um at um bed time um which us um the time is um well just about this” (as he holds his hand flat at chest level).
Brilliant! Love that kid! Natalie also got a kick, along with everyone else when Sam and I showed them how I’ve trained Sam to do the same trick as Satchmo. First we put a piece of food out for Satch and said leave it. Satch waited patiently, looking at me, not daring to look at the treat until I released him with an “OK.” Next I put a chocolate chip on the table in front of Sam, telling him “Leave it!” He waited and waited looking at me until I released him with an “OK” and he gobbled it up. We all clapped. Sam held his head proudly as if he had just won a quiz show. And Natalie just laughed at her little brother. Too cute!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
All this from the lobby smell of lunch cooking. I am soooo glad it was just the smell and not the whole experience again. That would have really stunk!