broken and dreaming
September 27, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 4 Comments
everyone was there, ready, watching the front of the room, listening to those silver slivers of music piping through from the ceiling. and then she slipped in, unnoticed, sat in the back, golden and red, brown fingers, shoes. she was cold to those still dressed for june, july. but the rest of us, already wearing forgotten sweaters unfolded from the back of the closet, we were ready, watching the front of the room, Autumn, Fall, a flash of blue, a gust of wind, from the double doors at the back, and she arrived.
oh so high, touch the sky
September 22, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 2 Comments
soars
cooler weather at last
soup, even though i never make soup that is ever very wonderful
this robe and the dream that if i only had it to wear all day i would never look like a hag again
kids on swings
kids on bikes
obedient sons and daughters (via oh joy and then, later, the selby, where we get to see the many tutus of the daughter among other wonders)
the river cottage family cookbook (heard about via soulemama, have it now, though, had i known i wouldn’t have ordered it because it is . . . british . . . and i’ve never had good luck with food from the u.k. but i ordered it because i’m still in that cooking rut and have only been making comfort food and survival food and i needed a new source of edible inspiration. the white bread deserves its own post: so delicioso….)
using tinsel. and feathers.
the idea of peach pie and how much i want to make it
lola watching the great outdoors from the window
balloon artists
little league soccer
archaic playground equipment
books that make you want to homeschool
sinks
sick kids in the middle of the night
sick kid laundry
losing beloved toys at the park
never having cash for that blasted ice cream truck
peach pie, the reality that i am the only one who will eat it, the inability to make it because i know i will eat the whole thing myself
injuries gotten from falling off of archaic playground equipment
mac & cheese
September 21, 2008 | Filed Under familial | 2 Comments
my brother threw up in his nightstand drawer, baseball cards, plastic dinosaurs, lost five dollar bills that he was sure one of us had stolen, all puked on, my dad shoveling the mess into trashbags, the middle of the night fog and blur in his eyes. a few minutes later he crossed the hall, turned on the overhead light in my room, gave me a plastic bowl, covered my floor with newspapers, flicked off the light and left. i remember feeling outraged, i wasn’t sick, after all. and, anyway, i was old enough to walk down the hall, tell my mother i was going to throw up, insist that she come, too, and hold back my hair. i certainly wouldn’t dream of throwing up in my nightstand drawer, which was closed, anyway. the nerve!
i think my dad always cleaned up our midnight sick messes, some deal made with my mother long before anyone collected baseball cards. i always had my mother hold my hair, though, crouched by the toilet and wanting to cry, having your hair held is the only consolation.
jude is sick, we’re out of towels, we’re still tired, and all he wants to do is eat. EAT! ironically, i made homemade macaroni and cheese last night and jude said that it “looks like puke,” (which, it really does, doesn’t it?), tasted it, and declared, “thanks for making this delicious puke!” and ate way too much of the stuff. and there we were, several quiet hours later, the cat meowing at the window, the light from the bathroom splashed on the floor, a burning nag champa in a window down the hall, a fog and blur around us, me insisting he sleep on giant layers of blanket to keep the mess at bay, while he sits, upset, sleepy, offended that i would have the gall to prepare.
it should be noted that my darling husband (who has been blogging more regularly of late) dealt with most of the sickness last night. what a lucky girl am i.)
make a mistake on purpose
September 18, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 1 Comment
i really should be going to bed earlier these nights, a sleepy row of them nodding their heads, eyelids heavy, blinking awake to look at me resentfully. even last night, as i had an extreme need for dessert, tried unsuccessfully to convince ernie that peach pie is really very, very, very scrumptious, even then, when i made brownies, it was ten thirty, later than that, and i told myself that it would be wiser to go to sleep instead of stay up late for chocolate. still, i could not do it.
it may be that i am addicted to being awake, by myself, all of the little pieces of the day that have fallen into the gutter among the leaves and the shimmer of rain water, the seconds in the day that i wanted or needed to do something else, all of them coming together in a shatter of sunset quiet.
new graffiti. did you know that the evening carves her initials on tree stumps? i didn’t either. more of this project here.
tell me your high hopes
September 17, 2008 | Filed Under familial, ordinary | Leave a Comment
and just when we nearly lost hope, we opened the back door and it was cold in the morning, the question about the need for a sweater being asked after a long time of not being asked. tonight there are windows open, even though i’m sure i will be sneezing by morning and those birds will mock at us too early. yes, even though i know these things, the windows are open and the dark and cool shiver in through the squares on the screens.
woodland elf hats have been made. i love to make them. i’ve never made anything with felted wool and now, when i’m not dreaming of royal feathered christmas ornaments, i’m dreaming of making things with wooly sweaters. the best part may be cutting the sweaters, possibly because the scissors slice through it so nicely, but also, possibly (wickedly?), because it just seems like such the wrong thing to do to a hundred dollar j crew sweater, doesn’t it?
lola has discovered vanity already, i’m afraid, for when i tie the hat to her head she tries to take it off until i show her her reflection in the mirror, at which time she smiles much and stops pulling at the ties, the button. oh, dear.
i made another for a friend’s new baby, a very tiny baby, so i scaled the hat down in size, although of course it looks gigantic next to her little newborn head. lola’s hat fits jude better than it fits lola, snug and gnomelike, so now he wants one, too, “without the flower!” jude is very particular, and, although this drives us all a bit batty at times, we do remind ourselves that particular adults are often praised for their “attention to detail,” so, why is attention to detail in a four year old so underappreciated?
your popsicle’s melting
September 15, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 3 Comments
white noise, the cool air spreading wings and soaring over, feathers blown back, rustling; a fan at the foot of the bed, on the nightstand, across the way. ernie is sometimes known to say, “i love a fan!” i like it when people are exuberant about little things, like the cold breeze of a fan.
the traffic swings by, glitter and flash in the morning sun on the street, on the green of the grass, fresh cut. jude sleeps late, his hair, wet from a bath before bed, crazy on the pillow. the cat is mournful in the laundry room, jumps through the door, a bird on the deck for green-yellow eyes to follow. lola stands on tiptoe to play the piano, the repetition of bass notes in a cluster, sustained. a beam of light on henry’s head as he stands in the sunporch, the blueprints in his head worked out in lego.
i love a morning such as this, fan spinning in the next room, the early light spun gold across the front of the house, the day a hope, yet.
it quickens, it thickens
September 14, 2008 | Filed Under familial, ordinary | Leave a Comment
it’s still summer here, catalogs full of wool and velvet notwithstanding. the mornings are clear, though, the humidity grown lazy with itself, sleeping longer than we do, forgetting to get up and make misery until the working hour of ten, eleven, just before lunch, and grasping the day in sweaty fists until nightfall, mosquito friendly, the cut of cool air breaking through for the hours until morning.
annie and i went to the goodwill clearance center this week. i think about going all of the time, not every day, but frequently in the week, and then i don’t make it there until a month passes, two months. there was a good dictionary, an old one that was falling apart so it feels good to cut it into something new. henry and jude are still happy with the costumes i brought home, a weird michael jackson / bullfighter shirt in red, vintage, military buttons up the front, belts that have only been used as whips once since, strange pants. we are overrun with costumes. the closet and baskets and drawers are stuffed full. i’ve packed some away and they remember them, “that scarf, that mask, where are they?” we need a costume room, a musty long closet with a window at one end, a three way mirror at the other, the clothes on hangers, the accessories in tidy boxes on the brightly lit counter. we could probably do away with all other toys, saving the legos, a few trucks, the plastic dinosaurs, the chimpanzee baby and mother, and just have costumes and weapons about.
there were loads of wool sweaters for shrinking and felting and cutting into pieces, too. i’m especially in to that angry chicken woodland elf hat these days. lola needs one for every day of the winter week, don’t you think?
we’ve started school, to henry’s chagrin. he likes to do fun things (duh, who doesn’t?) so we make it as natural and as fun as we can, but, sometimes learning is work! and a few minutes of work won’t hurt, will it? especially when he exults at the end, “actually, i like this!” sometimes i stare out of the window while he’s using the abacus and imagine years and years of motherwork and feel very tired. i already look tired and am tired and it’s really only the beginning. it’s probably that i just need to make more espresso and has nothing to do with the late nights i insist upon, the quiet darkness while listening to stories and making things, of this i am nearly sure.
rolling out that welcome mat
September 9, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 1 Comment
hooray for a new wire and zip-zap of the internet to call my own!
alas, we’re having some trouble with the old location so i’m not able to post anything to tell you all about this new address via your rss feeders. hopefully everyone finds their way without too much trouble!
special thanks to ernie who makes my blog wishing his command. you’re the best.
double dog dare you
September 3, 2008 | Filed Under lists | 2 Comments
love it!
vote for chris’ shirt, you must! it’s a $10K prize….
and another, by annie (my fave so far: it must be printed, i must wear it)
little tap shoes for lola to tap someday
jude’s skinny body
more on selby
kewpie dolls
fresh flowers in the house
boys drinking water from a flask
awestruck
cat wigs (you must read the captions)
skills from all of those arguments with clayton (brother, the one who never loses an argument) coming in handy
loathe it!
the act of finger wagging and name calling done by adults towards children
crumbs on the floor, galore!
mewing of the cat late in the night
three marias
September 2, 2008 | Filed Under inspired | 2 Comments
it started saturday when jude, having napped, was up late, and i was trying to compel him to sleep with drowsiness inducing television viewing. the sound of music was on and, being one of those movies that i loved and pretended endlessly when i was a kid, my boys haven’t seen it because i want them to be old enough to completely love it as i did. but it was on and they were singing about being sixteen, no, seventeen, no, going on sixteen and it was raining outside of the gazebo so he watched it. lots of it. i don’t think he went to sleep with it since ernie took over shortly after the matching kids sang out their austrian harmony to the glamorously cigaretted baroness.
when i was an older sister demanding that my brothers march and sing and otherwise von trapp themselves on our front porch, the pastor’s girls and myself outnumbering them, i remember wishing that maria’s hair was not so flat, so short. probably because it was the eighties and the word flat with regard to hair had not been used adoringly in a long time. but now, grown, flat bangs on my forehead, on saturday, i thought to have my own hair cut like a problematic nun. so easy! so julie! so maria! i can see myself welcoming bed-jumping and other boisterousness with open, wool covered, guitar playing arms.
then i saw this maria, inspired by her “boyfriend and love.” her tights, so turquoise! her scarf! her hair, not short, still flat, whisked away with her fingers as she walked out the door. and her, another maria, the third, a bag in a not-me yellow, a totally not-me bow in an equally not-me red stripe. her bangs, her sunglasses, her admission that she loves “everything that is a bit much.” inspiring maria!
too many marias! and way, way too many exclamation points.