What I want for Christmas is a Red Ryder BB gun that has a thing that tells time ...
Just kidding.
This is what I want for Christmas. It would be perfect to wear to Girls' Camp.
This is what I would give Nihao for Christmas, if I could.
This is what I'd love to get Phil for Christmas, if he'd actually wear it.
Compulsive Writer needs this to go with her favorite book.
I think Lo Down needs this when she's having one of these moments. Or maybe this.
All mothers need this. Especially when children are teenagers.
Eating Paste definitely needs this. But, then, he also needs this after a meal at El Azteca. Or this.
This is a must-have for The Jolly Porter or Oh, Judy.
I could get this for certain members of my family.
My son needs this. The other day, my sister told him he had Dorothy Hamill hair.
Who'da thunk I'd like silly T-shirts with things written on them? I'm the poster child for "What Not to Wear."
At least I can't shoot my eye out with a shirt.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Wordsmithing
As requested by TMM, I will now attempt to write something insightful about the following words: incredible, printer, Mommy, and rose.
1. Incredible (adj.) Looking at the word parts, it should mean something not believable or credible. Most people choose to use it to mean something amazing or awe-inspiring. In my opinion, Bill Clinton fits the first definition. As for the second definition, well, I know lots of things/people/places that inspire awe and amazement. Music--really good music--can break through the darkness of depression and make me feel things that I haven't felt in months. That's incredible to me. My husband, who has to live with chronic pain, is an incredible person. My boys, who are way too smart for me, are incredible. The mountains, especially in the fall, are incredible. Catalina Island, specifically Avalon, is an incredible place for me.
2. Printer (n.) Mine sits to the right of my monitor. It is a black & white laser printer, which means I don't yet live in a modern world where I can print my own color photos. But it's a good little printer that has served me well. It's especially good for stacking papers that I mean to take care of eventually. It's so nice and warm up there that the papers stay for a long time. I would too, if I could.
3. Mommy (n.) That's what my kids call me until they are about 4 years old or so. Then I become "Mom." I work at home, but I don't get paid money for what I do. If I did get paid, I think I'd be rich. Anyone who has to expose themselves to raw sewage (albeit contained, hopefully) several times daily ought to be paid really well.
4. Rose (v., adj., n.) That's what the sun did this morning. When it sets, it turns the sky I can see outside my living room window that color. And it's one of my favorite flowers. I like the fire and ice variety. If you're into flowery names, I suppose you could go with Rose for a girl. I don't think a boy would appreciate it much. I'm fascinated by the meanings that people attach to the colors of the flower.
Okay, now it's your turn. Your words are creek (pronounced "crick" if you're from Utah), orange, nauseous (not nauseated--there is a difference), and server. And I tag compulsive, Lorien, Eating Paste, and anyone else who wants to play.
1. Incredible (adj.) Looking at the word parts, it should mean something not believable or credible. Most people choose to use it to mean something amazing or awe-inspiring. In my opinion, Bill Clinton fits the first definition. As for the second definition, well, I know lots of things/people/places that inspire awe and amazement. Music--really good music--can break through the darkness of depression and make me feel things that I haven't felt in months. That's incredible to me. My husband, who has to live with chronic pain, is an incredible person. My boys, who are way too smart for me, are incredible. The mountains, especially in the fall, are incredible. Catalina Island, specifically Avalon, is an incredible place for me.
2. Printer (n.) Mine sits to the right of my monitor. It is a black & white laser printer, which means I don't yet live in a modern world where I can print my own color photos. But it's a good little printer that has served me well. It's especially good for stacking papers that I mean to take care of eventually. It's so nice and warm up there that the papers stay for a long time. I would too, if I could.
3. Mommy (n.) That's what my kids call me until they are about 4 years old or so. Then I become "Mom." I work at home, but I don't get paid money for what I do. If I did get paid, I think I'd be rich. Anyone who has to expose themselves to raw sewage (albeit contained, hopefully) several times daily ought to be paid really well.
4. Rose (v., adj., n.) That's what the sun did this morning. When it sets, it turns the sky I can see outside my living room window that color. And it's one of my favorite flowers. I like the fire and ice variety. If you're into flowery names, I suppose you could go with Rose for a girl. I don't think a boy would appreciate it much. I'm fascinated by the meanings that people attach to the colors of the flower.
Okay, now it's your turn. Your words are creek (pronounced "crick" if you're from Utah), orange, nauseous (not nauseated--there is a difference), and server. And I tag compulsive, Lorien, Eating Paste, and anyone else who wants to play.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Slump Broken
As requested by Becks and the ladies at ~j's baby shower last Saturday, here is my embarrassing story. (Does it count if I wasn't actually present to witness the event?)
When I was younger, my older brothers used to say that my dad should make me a hope chest because I was still hoping for one. They also used to tease me about having mosquito bites and bee stings. My older sister K, on the other hand, is taller and heavier than I am, and, as such, is more "endowed" than I up top. This brings me to my story.
Several years ago, when my son A was probably 3 years old, he went on a sleepover to K's house. He walked in on her getting dressed. She covered herself up quickly, but not before A noticed her "giftedness." Conversation ensued:
A: "What are those?"
K: "Those are breasts."
A: "Oh."
. . . very long pause while the gears turn in A's head . . .
A: "My mom doesn't have any of those."
When I was younger, my older brothers used to say that my dad should make me a hope chest because I was still hoping for one. They also used to tease me about having mosquito bites and bee stings. My older sister K, on the other hand, is taller and heavier than I am, and, as such, is more "endowed" than I up top. This brings me to my story.
Several years ago, when my son A was probably 3 years old, he went on a sleepover to K's house. He walked in on her getting dressed. She covered herself up quickly, but not before A noticed her "giftedness." Conversation ensued:
A: "What are those?"
K: "Those are breasts."
A: "Oh."
. . . very long pause while the gears turn in A's head . . .
A: "My mom doesn't have any of those."
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Thinking....
My brain has recently lost it's capacity to come up with a clever topic to blog about. Let's hope it's only temporary.
And so, in my hour of desperation, I turn to you, dear readers. What would you like to see me blog about? (Nothing skanky, mind you. This is a swearing-tolerant, family-friendly blog.) Please propose topic ideas. I shall pick my favorite and write away. Or something like that.
And so, in my hour of desperation, I turn to you, dear readers. What would you like to see me blog about? (Nothing skanky, mind you. This is a swearing-tolerant, family-friendly blog.) Please propose topic ideas. I shall pick my favorite and write away. Or something like that.
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