Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from June, 2008

Smoke on the Water

O K...I'm EXHAUSTED. They don't make a strong enough coffee. (Well, OK, they do, but I don't function very well when I end up dizzy and shaking, with low blood sugar. And I like strong coffee!) Last night, my husband and I woke up to a smell. Usually, it's the sound of Daughter #2 looking for 4 a.m. company. (Well, actually, that DID happen!) No, first, it was the smell--that burning chemical smell. He walked the house first; then, I did. Oven was off. No unusual appliances on. The backyard wasn't burning. And the spray paint can I had used to paint my sister's failing outdoor lounge chairs had not ignited the garage. (Praise the Lord!) "It's coming in our window." he said. Wait...the smell. I had smelled it days ago on the trip home from the library...and days before that, when I thought my car's failing radiator might be toast. (We're waiting for the new one to come in! Maybe the new mechanic can fix the false "check light" co

Trash to Treasure

" L adies and gentlemen....Welcome to Turrrrrrrtllllllllle Racewaaaaaaaay!" Yes, you can almost hear the PA announcer's shout as you look at... What ? Turtle Raceway, a creation of Daughter #1, inspired by her conversations with a fellow classmate. The goal was to make a track for her friend's turtle. It was more than just a backyard project; it became an obsession! Ever environmentally conscious (to the point where I almost feel her Dad and I went overboard in our instruction/demonstration), Daughter #1 was on a quest. First, it was to start recycling in her classroom. Every day in her backback, she brought home the recyclables. But, that soon got to be too much. As I explained to her teacher, "We have become not just a recycling depository but a recycling PROCESSING center." (And a little bit too hands-on at that!) Then, Daughter #1 started bringing home non-recyclables. "Mom, these are for Turtle Raceway." Huh ? She explained that even thoug

A Note from the Dept. of Transplantation

T his is the source of the most profusely sweet smell in our yard--our gardenia bush! Imagine a rich aroma of coconut and honey and maybe a bit of lily. (Actually, it's a lot like jasmine, but the Glade Plug-In attempt at that scent doesn't come close!) This is the most prolific the blossoming has been, too. In the warm sun, the scent wafts all over the yard, creating as near a spa-like setting as possible. We used to have three bushes, until I decided that I wanted this fantastic fragrance throughout the backyard. So, last year, I transplanted two of the bushes. Here is one of them today: I was so crushed. What had I done? As soon as I moved the bushes, the leaves went into shock and never recovered. The stems changed from green to black. I think I pretty much poisoned them. They had sun. I watered when it didn't rain. They actually were in the right soil--gardenias are acid-soil lovers. But, in reading through the literature, I didn't use any kind of fertilizer, and c

Et tu, Cappuccino?

S o, my dear friend, Kelly, sent me a link to take a coffee quiz the other day. What kind of coffee girl are you? Hmm.... Could be fun. OK, I'll take it. (You can, too, through this link .) She is sharing her results with folks today in her blog . Surprisingly, I received the same results she did. I'm a cappuccino. She's a cappuccino. Wouldn't you like to be a cappuccino, too? Well, maybe you are ! This whole thing brewed some thoughts in my froth that I needed to filter out. How could I be a cappuccino? What questions did I incorrectly answer? Perhaps that one about where I get my coffee. They never listed "all of the above" as an answer. And I am every coffee woman. It's ALL in me..... "What kind of guy are you least attracted to?" That says what about my coffee persona?? Clearly, the science in the questionnaire is lacking. (But, then, caffeine was never officially named the 119th element on the periodic table--CaF....not there!) So,

When a la carte becomes an art

M iss "Mix and Match" More socks to snatch From the drawer You must pull FOUR?! Did only two Just make you blue That now four Is what you adore? For feet, it's clear But why hands, my dear? Her smile and dance tell me she's smitten With her new fashion look--the summertime mitten. OK with me, but just once more Why, also, the colors be four? What could be left To match in her drawer? Quoth Daughter #2, "Nothingmore!"

Happy Father's Day...or not...yet

T oday is Father's Day. It's just that we're not celebrating at our house this year...not on the official Father's Day, anyway. You know, dads have one of the most difficult roles in the whole world of roles to take on. You don't audition for it. You don't receive the title by getting the best time in a qualifying heat. You don't take entrance exams. And, once you are given the title, the expectations are so very much more than what you expect. My husband is one of the greatest dads ever. He's really smart, patient, ingenious, clever, witty, quiet... He gives piggybacks and sits through countless pancake and bacon breakfasts at Waffle House, IHOP....anywhere and everywhere (and pancake and bacon dinners, too!). He plays innumerable rounds of Daughter #1's invented games and sits through innumerable reads of the same Dr. Seuss stories with Daughter #2. He was the one who suggested the bunk beds. He was the one who installed the wall of mirrors for our

A Beginning of Summer's Day's Dream

T he princess said goodbye to her attendants. She would not see them again until the crimson and gold leaves of Fall would grace the trees. They shared one happy last day, enjoying each other's company and eating sweet treats 'round the table. She and the other princesses and princes adorned themselves with garlands of beads before packing up their treasures and returning to their homelands. The princess, feeling sorrowful over a joy-filled time come to an end, returned to the palace and dressed herself in her finest purple gown. But, slumber soon overtook the fair maiden, and she collapsed into dreamy sleep. (in the freshly washed clothes....!)

Teaching Points

W aiting outside the ice cream store. It's 10:48 a.m. 95 degrees. It doesn't open until 11. (I'm sure you could serve that smoothie before 11 on a day like today--might even make up for your drab winter sales....) Why am I here? It's gift card time again. Time to say "thanks" and "so long" to our teachers from this year. I'm Daughter #1's room parent, and the other room parent and I decided on a "gift card basket" for the teacher. I've since decided on a giant pop-up display card which showcases her teacher's favorite phrase--"Keep on the sunny side"--and her gifts as well. Got me thinking about how amazing teachers can be. Granted, they are not all perfect or necessarily great matches for our kids. But, teachers are still amazing in what they do. Truly, not everyone can teach. Even the Bible tells us that is a special gift. My Dad was a college professor for many years, offering up biology to socio-economical

The Kid in the Candy Store

S o, blog friend Chatty Kelly has issued an unofficial challenge in response to other blog friend Mrs. P. 5's blog from today: If you were a candy, what would you (and your family) be? My husband would be a Nestle's Crunch. He crunches the home financial numbers really well. Crunches more cereal and chips than anyone (though Daughter #2 is a very close second). Who needs to do crunches when you can cycle? And he's there in the "crunch" times! Daughter #2 would have to be Hershey's Kisses or Hugs. Either one. She's a kissy-bug! (But she would tell you she's a lollipop--that's her favorite candy of the moment.) Daughter #1 is Bazooka Bubble Gum. Pink for her girly side. Bubble gum for her sporty side. Bazooka because she's explosive in every way. And gum because she sticks to those she likes. Me? Today?? I'm a Goober. How sad is that? (And I really like Goobers.) I should have been the kid in the candy store going into the weekend--Daughter

9 is a Multiple of 3--That's the Magic Number

I know some of you are of the age to remember Schoolhouse Rock , the series of mini educational music videos that ran between Saturday morning children's programs on ABC in the mid-70s. Given you remember that, you probably know "Three--The Magic Number" which was a Multiplication Rock segment. Daughter #1 turned 9. My husband asked her if she had any thoughts on turning 9...was she going to try new things, set new goals, etc.? She said that was for New Year's, not for her birthday. At that point, I said that turning 9 meant that she was a whole year bigger and that new things could open up to her that she hadn't thought of before. Then she piped up that she would, essentially, cause her parents more grief. ("Ha!" she laughed. O, brother......) My husband then turned the conversation back for the better saying that 9 would be a great year because 9 is a multiple of 3--and that's the magic number! Daughter #1 thought that was great. She learned her m

I Saw Jesus Today

I saw Jesus today. Now, you may think I'm going to share that neat devotional about seeing Jesus in people you meet. I like that one, too. And I see Jesus in my blog friends. But, that's not where I'm going. I saw Jesus today. He was on the aisle next to all the bubble products at the local "Stuff Mart." I was looking for mini-surfboards when his beard and long hair caught my eye. "What's Jesus doing here?" I thought, and then immediately chuckled. "Why wouldn't Jesus be here? But....here????" The whole scene left me feeling a bit perplexed. I walked around the entire toy shelf and came back for a closer look. Truly, I don't think I've seen a Jesus "action figure" before. There were many boxes lined up. There were boxes of Mary as well, plus a few smaller boxes with Moses and some other figures, AND, a roll-out mat for the characters to travel upon, though I didn't see where they would be going. A Jesus "actio