…but this poster makes me want to run again — so I can think about it — and crack up as I go…
A couple weeks ago Chunk #1 came with me to get some fabric. I was going to make Princess Leia hair buns for a family treasure hunt (star wars themed, yeah, I know, Nerd Alert!). So we looked at the furry section and I wondered out loud if Minky fabric would work for my plan to swirl it into “hair.” Chunk #1 started to suggest other fabrics. His concern went something like this: “Mom, I think we should use this other one [pointing at another fabric] because I don’t want the girls to get hot. You know, like they’ll be too warm …(pause)… not like the other hot …(pause)… the one that Daddy says to you …(pause)…. like when he says ‘you are hot’, not like that hot.”
In the soundtrack of my life, this song is somewhere in my list of top ten — mmmm, maybe top five:
Tell me some of your songs…
It’s quotes like this that make me adore Mr. Ray Bradbury so much:
“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don’t they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.” ~from the introduction to Dandelion Wine.
Today I walked my kids into school and it was windy. It was the kind of wind that tries to steal homework or likes to make your own hair whip your face. It was the kind of wind that wraps itself around you and makes you wonder if it could, just this once, pick you up. When I slammed the door to my car and took a breath I could smell the wind on my skin and my hair. And then I thought of those bees. What is in the wind? What flowers? What spices? What is it that flavors the oxygen so much? It always smells the same me. I could smell it on me in Idaho this past month. It reminded me of motorcycle rides in Utah in my college days. Today, in the middle of a bustling city, it splashed its scent on me in just a one minute walk. Anywho, I’m sure Mr. Bradbury is right, and I think the bees probably smell like Wind.
****photo found on google images.
Confession: I am grumpy. I have not really written on this blog for almost a whole month because of my grumps. It’s actually worse than grumps but I don’t really want to hang my dirty laundry. I don’t feel like being a downer. I’ll just say I have some, it stinks, and am tired of it. So I’ll make light of it here and hopefully I’ll be back to my ol’ blogging self some time soon. In the mean time, I’ll share my opinions on some non-pressing matters:
1. Gentleman Broncos is a gaggy movie. I don’t recommend it (way too much body fluids, not enough Jermain).
2. I wonder about people who take professional pictures of themselves with their pet. Please don’t misunderstand me here. Couples and their pets – fine. Couples with children and their pets- also fine. Child/Children with the pet – even more fine. But a grown up person who goes and gets a professional shot of themselves and just their pet- not fine. Even if done with irony. I want to cry for them and yet I also want slap them across the face.
3. My feet have been consistently cold for the past 6 months. It’s getting warmer and my feet are still freezing. Explain.
4. I think too much about body language. But not with other people, only with myself. When I am talking to someone and notice that my arms are crossed, I remember that this sometimes sends a negative message and so I slowly try to unfold my arms and hope that the person I’m talking to doesn’t notice. Weird, I know.
5. I’m going to eat the frozen Snickers ice cream bar in my fridge right now with no regrets. I’ve decided that when I do eat junky food like that and think “I’m going to regret this” then I ‘m just being stupid. Why beat myself up when I’m going to eat it anyway? I’ll just run like hell tomorrow. No regrets.
This was random and negative and totally represents how I’m feeling right now. Goodnight.
***photo by peeklondon on flickr
So, I thought I missed World Nutella Day. I had it in my head that it was February 2nd but it’s really February 5th (fwooo, that was so close). I’m not obsessed with Nutella. It’s yummy. I actually buy the store brand version of it sometimes cause I’m cheap like that. What fascinates me is that somebody created this product, and it is so awesome that another somebody, or a group of somebodies dedicated a day to it. What an honor. What a privilege. And frankly, I want to make something that awesome. I want a “World (something La created) Day.”
So I’m going to eat this decadent delight not only because it’s delicious but I will eat it in honor of successful creative people everywhere who deserve a “World (something they created) Day.” On February 5th, bust out that crepe recipe, your strawberries, your raspberries and your bananas, and celebrate WORLD NUTELLA DAY (echo echo echo…..).
Question: If you could have a “World (something you created) Day”, what would it be?
Photo: Found through Google Images
Today was a Cream of Wheat morning. With milk. And strawberries.
Compared to other cities, towns, homes, whatever, I shouldn’t complain about the weather this time of year…….but then I do anyway. The chill creeps in at night and sticks with me most of the morning. I try to push it off with things like steamy cooked cereals, hot showers and stripy knee-high socks that leave indents in my skin by the end of the day.
In terms of Blue Bungalow life, this is the time of year where our power bill drops down to a decent charge but then our gas bill begins its climb up.
In terms of Motherhood, this is the time of year where I want to keep my children home, wrapped up in blankets and read books together, or just break out the Christmas movies.
There is something deceptive about the seasons in the desert. The leaves finally start to change about now. I’ve been waiting for it to happen for a month now. I do that every year. I hold my arms out, ready to hug Autumn and then the weather goes from blazing hot to………perfect. 75 degree weather and and finally think “I love it here”. My mind temporarily forgets the traditional idea of Autumn for a while. But, then, I’m caught off guard. The cold finally hits. And though this metaphoric assault is so much softer here than in most parts of the country, it still gets to me. I’ve been tricked, pulled into dream land with this easy weather and then it gets taken away. Like that.
I resent this teasing season.
And so do my toes.
Now that I’ve been a big baby, tell me:
What did you have breakfast?
How is your day going?
Are you as cold as I feel right now?