Lazy Texting

I don’t always text Husband to bring me something from a room he is passing through,

but when I do, I usually get treated to a sassy reply.

He came into the living room with the requested book, his thumb casually covering the “d”.

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Heavy Dancing

In an effort to be uplifting, news programs tend to end with a short, feel good piece. Using this strategy last night, the final news story was about a father-daughter dance class, highlighting African American fathers and their young dance daughters. From the short bit I saw, it looked like ballet, fathers lifting their tutued daughters into the air and twirling them around (it’s very important that you read this using the first definition, not the second one listed by Collins dictionary).

I was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, one ear on the news. Carter was, for some reason, quite taken with this news story and came into the kitchen to share it with me. He asked me if I knew that there were father-daughter dances. I told him I did and then asked him if he had a daughter if he would take her to such a dance. He was unsure if he would, perhaps struggling to visualizing having a daughter of his own.

Always the one to quickly point out any inequality, Carter persisted on the subject. He insisted that there needed to be mother-son dances. Then he looked at me, eyes squinted ever so slightly, “But I don’t think you could pick me up.”

I laughed and explained that typically it is the male dancer who picks up the female dancer and so he would be the one to pick me up.  At this he tried unsuccessfully to pick me up.

Then he asks the question – “How much do you weigh, momma?” to which I quickly respond – “How much do you think I weigh?”

He looks me up and down and proclaimed that I weigh 149 pounds (so specific!). I gasp in mock horror at his response.

When from down the hall Cody, ever wise beyond his 14 years, calls out, “Carter! Don’t you know you never answer that question?!?”

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Simple Sunday – Empty Shells

Under a bush, an imprint in the rocks lined with little bits and bobbles discarded by nature, new life emerges.

Feather fluff of quail and empty shells remains.

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Fur Friday – Nothing but Cats (and a Goat)

Chloe – the least photogenic of our cats, often caught looking annoyed and bitter. Does not really like any of us. Here she is caught in a rare contemplative expression under the warm glow of Carter’s new “zen lights”.

Leia (short for Princess Leia) – quirky, petite, and often aloof. Likes to be held when her humans are trying to cook dinner or do laundry. Seen here with a sleeping James and Goat.

Turn that frown upside down?

James – the most photogenic of the cats. More personality than a roomful of clowns, but not as scary. A total momma’s boy.

Another $5 bottle of wine, mom? Really?

And no, for all you concerned readers out there, we do not give our cats wine. Usually. (Really, we never do, they’re much to elite for our wine choices/budget.)

Happy Friday!

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Fun Fact

Carter enjoys reading about history, especially the shady or darker parts of history such as wars, treason, and diseases. One of his favorite book series is Nathan Hale’s Hazardous Tales.

Carter also likes sharing what he learns, random tidbits at random times.

What Carter does not understand is the concept of a fun fact. For example this is a fun fact: (number 17 of 101 fun facts you can find here.)

Wombats are the only animal whose poop is cube-shaped. This is due to how its intestines form the feces. The animals then stack the cubes to mark their territory. (bbc.com

A fun fact is lighthearted, entertaining, and, well, a fact. A fun fact is something you could bring up at a social gathering, (remember those?), to impress your friends.

I bring up chickens to impress my friends, what about you? Growing up on a mini farm, I have lots of fun facts related to chickens, such as you can tell the color egg a hen will lay based upon the color of their earlobe (unless, of course it is an Araucana). Red earlobe = brown shelled egg and white earlobe = white shelled egg.

Carter will come up to Husband or myself and ask if we want to hear a fun fact. Then usually without waiting for our reply, he will spit out a fact relating to trench warfare or the Donner Party.

A fact, yes, but a fun fact? I think not.

 

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Simple Sunday – From the Soil to the Sky

Beneath us a persistence, a resilience, an unwavering need to grow, move forward, live.

And from that pulse, sprout over root, leaf over sprout, climbing up and out, there is strength and beauty.

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Happy Fourth of July!

Waffles with red, white, and blue for our breakfast this morning. (Sorry but no pictures of the waffles, I was too busy eating.)

May you have a safe, smart, and cheerful 4th!

Posted in Food Glorious Food | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

Fur Friday – Hiding in Plain Sight

Happy (First) Fur Friday!

I’m going to start a weekly Fur Friday theme to my blog. I do not have a solid idea what this will entail other than it will have something to do with our menagerie of animals. There will be a photo or two and some words, or not. It will take place on Friday because I like alteration a lot. I will also have the right to change the rules whenever and however I please.

I landed on this idea for a few reasons. One, school will be starting up again, in whatever form that may be, and I will be much busier. When life gets busy, my blogging suffers and I hope this fun Friday format will inspire me to at least stay connected when the going gets tough. Two, my camera roll is ridiculously and overwhelmingly heavy with pet pictures. Why not share the love? Three, I get a lot of my writing inspiration from visuals, photographs or visual experiences. Writing about our furry critters is easy and enjoyable, so why wouldn’t I do this?

On an unrelated note, this week marks my ninth year with this blog. I’m so glad I started blogging when Cody and Carter were little. I am not a baby book or scrapbook person. This is the one place I have more or less consistently jotted down our life moments, big and small. Currently the boys take an interest in my blog more to humor me than anything, but when they do, it is sweet to watch them step back in time to their childhood and listen to them exclaim, “Oh, I remember that…”

Whether you are a long time reader or you just popped by to see the orange cat “hiding” under the bed, thank you for being a part of my blogging experience.

Cheers and happy Friday!

Posted in Fur Friday, Furry Feet (and fish) | Tagged , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Multiple-Organ Transplant

We are coffee drinkers. We drink Starbucks dark roast beans, lovingly ground the night before and nestled into a dry, crisp filter in our pre-programmed coffeemaker, set to brew a perfect pot just minutes before our alarm goes off. If I wake up and there is no coffee waiting, it is excruciatingly difficult for me to blunder my way through the coffee making process. I know this is ridiculous, but that is simply the way it is.

Enter Husband. He is a person who does not like to part with things. He is one of those “this might come in handy sometime” people. So when our last coffeemaker’s heating element died, he gently cleaned it, packaged it up in the original box (yes, he kept that too, just in case), and put it out in the garage. And when our exact coffeemaker showed up on sale, he quietly bought one because that is what sane people do, buy back-up coffeemakers and store them in their garages.

Our current and long standing coffeemaker, a steady and trustworthy workhorse, quickly lost it’s external beauty. It started with a crack and quickly turned into the loss of the entire face plate. I would be lying if I told you this did not bother me at all. Totally superficial of me, I know. I noted the unkempt look a time or two but really thought nothing much of it. The coffeemaker made coffee, so what if it looked industrial-punk and the buttons sometimes threatened to tilt wildly to the point of detachment. It’s not like we are having company over or anything.

Enter Husband, again. The old coffeemaker came in from the garage, boxed in its original packaging. The thought was to simply pop off the face plate of the non-working one, and put it on the workhorse coffeemaker. But the face plate did not pop, it did not want to come off at all.

Undeterred, Husband proceeded to perform a multi-organ transplant, removing the bad  heating element and all the parts and pieces that went along with it and replaced it with all the inner workings from the coffeemaker with the missing face plate. This was very stressful because what if something went wrong? Would we have to use our back-up coffeemaker thereby no longer having a back-up coffeemaker? You could imagine the stress. But there was no need to worry.

We now have a new looking coffeemaker, Frankensteined together from the workings of two machines. Husband gave Frankenstein a couple vinegar-water transfusions and then make a pot of coffee.

Perfect cup of coffee made in a pretty coffeemaker.

And as a bonus, the back-up coffeemaker is still in the garage waiting.

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James vs. the Plant

A week and a half ago I introduced a new houseplant into our home. The odds are stacked against it for several reasons, the top three reasons being: me, our cats, and me.

To shrug off the responsibility and the weight of years of plant neglect and subsequent deaths I have left in the wake of my life, I say that I do not have a green thumb. What that really means is that I kill plants. I don’t mean to or want to kill plants, but I do. Sometimes I forget to water them. Sometimes I over water them due to the guilt of forgetting to water them. Sometimes I lightly dust their leaves with a damp paper towel and talk to them in soothing murmurers, thereby killing them too.

Dracaena trifasciata, better known as the snake plant or mother-in-law’s tongue, is recommended for beginners by ye ole Wikipedia. In Australia it is considered a weed. The general consensus of the handful of plant and gardening sites I read is that even a brick could raise and grow this plant (my words, not theirs).  I simply need to give it water from time to time, that’s it. I am feeling good about this.

That leaves the cats. Chloe and Leia eyeballed it and sniffed it suspiciously before walking away and ignoring it. James however…

First he sniffed it and then looked at me. “Be good, James,” I said which prompted him to take a little nibble.

“No, James,” I said. He gave me a look, clearly annoyed by my interference.

Next he whapped one of the leaves, impressed with the way it sprung back and forth. “James!” I raised my voice.

He leapt off the chair and stalked out of the room. Sock Monkey raised his sunglasses in alarm and looked around, the book in his lap momentarily forgotten.

And while James has gone back to sleeping in his red chair since being spoke unto, he has not acknowledged the plant.

Perhaps there is hope for it yet.

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