self portrait tuesday (february)
February 28, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
not an official member yet, but . . .
here i am, wrinkles and all. not sure how i feel about prematurely wrinkling so deeply. not overly terrific, i suppose. if only i didn’t squint and smile so much.
put on the day, wear it ’til the night comes
February 28, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
breezy saturdays may be my favorite sort of day. after naps the boys ate outside, cold as it still was with the breeze and all. we pretended to picnic and then dug through the yard for something metal down in the ground to tell us something of where our property ends and the neighbors’ begins.
i find myself obsessed with the borders of the yard. the trees are tall, a leafy fantastic for spring, summer and fall. come winter they telegraph wooden messages (di di di, di dah dah di, di dah di, di di, dah di, dah dah di) to one another since there are no leaves for gossiping together. there is a possible confusion with the neighbors as to who is responsible for the trees, although they are clearly in our yard, and were i to come home one sunny afternoon and find the neighbors’ garage lined with stacks of fresh wood and the trees on the north side of the yard chopped into splinters and kindling i would seriously become violent. something must be done before they tire of raking the leaves that drop down into their grass and purchase red shorts and a chain saw.
henry with a fever is certainly not himself, falling asleep on his own on the couch while watching star wars, incredibles, lady and the tramp. needy and flushed he’s a hard day and night job. we’re exhausted and look forward to the return of his bounce. jude is fascinated with henry’s permanent post on the couch. he climbs up the back and jumps onto henry’s head, laughing all the way. he turns off the tv and runs to hide.
february, this short month of long winter is almost over. three cheers for the coming of march!
put on the day, wear it ’til the night comes
February 28, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
breezy saturdays may be my favorite sort of day. after naps the boys ate outside, cold as it still was with the breeze and all. we pretended to picnic and then dug through the yard for something metal down in the ground to tell us something of where our property ends and the neighbors’ begins.
i find myself obsessed with the borders of the yard. the trees are tall, a leafy fantastic for spring, summer and fall. come winter they telegraph wooden messages (di di di, di dah dah di, di dah di, di di, dah di, dah dah di) to one another since there are no leaves for gossiping together. there is a possible confusion with the neighbors as to who is responsible for the trees, although they are clearly in our yard, and were i to come home one sunny afternoon and find the neighbors’ garage lined with stacks of fresh wood and the trees on the north side of the yard chopped into splinters and kindling i would seriously become violent. something must be done before they tire of raking the leaves that drop down into their grass and purchase red shorts and a chain saw.
henry with a fever is certainly not himself, falling asleep on his own on the couch while watching star wars, incredibles, lady and the tramp. needy and flushed he’s a hard day and night job. we’re exhausted and look forward to the return of his bounce. jude is fascinated with henry’s permanent post on the couch. he climbs up the back and jumps onto henry’s head, laughing all the way. he turns off the tv and runs to hide.
february, this short month of long winter is almost over. three cheers for the coming of march!
bread, no grease
February 27, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
a week of nothing noteworthy and we’re almost through with this wretched month of february.
some sort of beef sauteed with red bell pepper, mushroomy deliciousness, salt, pepper, garlic salt, cheddar cheese. served on a roll. sort of philly cheeseteak-ish. ernie says it needed fewer veggies, much to my sadness.
i was remembering the terrific veggie melt sold with much grease at the bju snack shop (terrible name — we called it “the lightening bolt” for awhile . . .). too many vegetables would mean greasy bread for supper so . . .
mange le vomir
February 26, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
henry puked his quesedilla. thankfully he refused to eat the beans and rice, i don’t know that i could have cleaned that up. horrible enough, the cheese chunkage.
ice cream would have been a good dinner instead.
running on tiptoe
February 23, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
i don’t know the family, i didn’t know the baby. ernie works with her father, this is all that i know of them. they didn’t expect her to live to be older than ten, but dying at three was still unexpected. can a mama ever expect her baby to die? and seven more years of life has to seem like a century compared to the last few minutes of breath.
i tried not to think too much about it, stopping to whisper a prayer for their family here and there throughout the day seemed enough. i didn’t want to look at my own three year old and all of is glow and spark and put myself in hannah’s mama’s funeral shoes. but i thought about them a lot, about the crater of emptiness that would bore through my chest, through the chambers of my heart, were my own child to experience death before i do.
i thought about the quietness of their house, the empty feeling the rooms have when something isn’t right, isn’t the same. i thought about how weird dead people look, weirdest most to those who knew them best, and how utterly terrible it must feel to see your child looking that way. i thought about how people never know what to say to those who experience this kind of loss, at least how i never know what to say, how i avoid having to say anything at all because i am not brave enough to shoulder some of their pain and grieve with them.
henry snoozes upstairs, a late afternoon nap for a boy who is fighting a cold. jude snores alongside him, one arm over his head, just like ernie sleeps. i stare at them long and hard before i walk downstairs to make a congratulatory “welcome to the world” call to my sister-in-law who has recently given birth to a baby girl.
i take my children for granted, i realize yet again. their liveliness, their tenacity, their persistance, their independance, their dependance. i find myself often annoyed by the very things that make them living people. it’s ridiculous to promise against the repetition of being annoyed so, but if it were possible, i’d do it in a flash. it’s all too short, these minutes we’re given, to be taking them for granted the way that i do.
“like uncut jewels, dull and rough”
February 22, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | 2 Comments
jude’s gum loving has gone too far. hooray for olive oil! i was anticipating a terrible first haircut (mullet?) but a teaspoon of olive oil made the glob (and the little chunks, too) slide right out of his shiny hair.
one would think we’d stop giving the kid gum but we don’t. at least, i don’t. i think it helps him keep his mind off of his teeth. he loves every aspect of gum, from wrapper removal, to the gradual biting of it, to the long chew, the long stretching strand, the lumpy swallow. frost knew, and we know!
besides, and after all, we’ve the surety of olive oil.
“why is it so cold in here?” we sniffed as we muffled our mouths and noses with mufflers. “the house is old, it’s windy and frigid outside. it’s winter, buck up.”
upon further investigation we realized, with much groaning about the impending CIPS bill, that someone (little fingers fidgeting with the thermostat. . .) had set the thing to turn down to 50 degrees at night. we slept with hoodies, thick socks. the house refused to warm up, the water refusing to charge through the pipes.
thanks to a free moment in the midst of the insanity to discover the mischief, it feels nearly too warm this morning.
the sun is now shining as i squint to type. jude has wet hands from playing at dishes in the sink. henry is practicing his olympic somersaulting. the second brew of coffee is about to whistle on the stove. this is a week without regularly scheduled students and we’re all feeling it. too bad the week is half over already.
“like uncut jewels, dull and rough”
February 22, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
jude’s gum loving has gone too far. hooray for olive oil! i was anticipating a terrible first haircut (mullet?) but a teaspoon of olive oil made the glob (and the little chunks, too) slide right out of his shiny hair.
one would think we’d stop giving the kid gum but we don’t. at least, i don’t. i think it helps him keep his mind off of his teeth. he loves every aspect of gum, from wrapper removal, to the gradual biting of it, to the long chew, the long stretching strand, the lumpy swallow. frost knew, and we know!
besides, and after all, we’ve the surety of olive oil.
“why is it so cold in here?” we sniffed as we muffled our mouths and noses with mufflers. “the house is old, it’s windy and frigid outside. it’s winter, buck up.”
upon further investigation we realized, with much groaning about the impending CIPS bill, that someone (little fingers fidgeting with the thermostat. . .) had set the thing to turn down to 50 degrees at night. we slept with hoodies, thick socks. the house refused to warm up, the water refusing to charge through the pipes.
thanks to a free moment in the midst of the insanity to discover the mischief, it feels nearly too warm this morning.
the sun is now shining as i squint to type. jude has wet hands from playing at dishes in the sink. henry is practicing his olympic somersaulting. the second brew of coffee is about to whistle on the stove. this is a week without regularly scheduled students and we’re all feeling it. too bad the week is half over already.
ice cream sandwiches
February 18, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
the children ate green goblin pasta (pesto pasta) too early, when we weren’t yet hungry. then they went to bed. later, ernie and i ate blue bunny neopolitan ice cream sandwiches. plural. it’s a sick world we live in. but the blue bunny neopolitan ice cream sandwiches are the best.
week of pizza
February 17, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary | Leave a Comment
recently ernie experienced pizza deja vu. this means that he ate pizza for several meals in a row; as leftovers, as a guest, as a guy at work, as a guy at home.
we like to eat geppetto’s pizza. when we were southern dwellers we ate wedgy’s pizza. our favorite pizza maker had a long skinny ponytail that stuck through the exit of his ball cap. his red wedgy’s ball cap. he had humongous glasses that were a peachy colored plastic. he was greasy, as was his hair, as was his pizza. he was skinny with skin that slung over the bones of his elbows and cheekbones. he was a real piece of work. he was old and worked at the wedgy’s that took only five turns in the car once we left our drive before we sat in their drive. a wedgy cost under eight dollars a pizza. we ate them frequently. far too frequently. if we still lived on woodfern circle i’m sure i’d be blogging “wedgy’s, again.” at least once a week.
a geppetto’s pizza is more pricey, something under thirteen dollars a pizza. it’s totally better pizza and there are moments in the day we can just taste a geppetto’s pizza with green olives. when we can taste it at odd moments in the day it’s a surefire guarantee that we’re going to order.
tonight ernie walked into pick the thing up and the girl said, “hello, mr. greene.” even the greased ponytail (we jokingly refer to him as “gracen” because he’s skinny, like gracen, and has a long blonde ponytail, like gracen, and is as blind as fanny crosby without his glasses, also like gracen. there the similarities come to a screeching halt, of course, but it’s fun to tease gracen so, all the same.) never called either of us by name.