ecstatic dream of cosmic cool
cut into the flesh of the world
crazysexycool
(Yeah, TLC. Got a problem? Te futate.)
catching my hand,
matching my stride,
snatching my glance
smirklaughblush
strength to show weakness
without being weakened
jump the railing, jump the moon,
cast aweigh the luftballoon,
for now i know (the proper response)
twirlitytwirltwirltwirl
kisses that taste
of lips and teeth and a hint of tonic
talllongcurvysoft
emerald's sparkle, not its shade
(more along the lines of jade)
staresmilewink
don't say beautiful
don't say beautiful
don't say?
BEAUTIFUL.
eek! begetsbiliousblushes
good time had by all
short time had by all
heart? check! not lost, nor given;
too quick, too soon, heart has learned
patienceprudencepropriety
not lost, nor given -- too quick, too soon --
but stands ajar, and in accord: "again, and soon."
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
I wasn't actually *yelling*...
Eve: Stop yelling at Gacie, Dah-dee!
Grace: Thank you, Eve.
Eve: I talking to Dah-dee, Gace!
Where do they learn it from. ::whistles::
Grace: Thank you, Eve.
Eve: I talking to Dah-dee, Gace!
Where do they learn it from. ::whistles::
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Happy 4th. My day.
The ex and I gathered up the cubs and hit the beach today, as is
our usual 4th of July tradition. Low-stress this year, as we didn't
try to grill, but brought fried chicken and such. Soaked up the
haze. Which is not a complaint -- it was nice and cool for a
change; Mommy wore a hooded sweatshirt, though I found it
pleasantly balmy (I'm insanely warmblooded; until it gets near
freezing, I'm usually 10-15 degrees more comfy than everyone
else).
The 5-year-old looked for shells, but couldn't find anything but
fragments -- I explained that it was because Orchard Beach isn't a
natural beach, and the shells she was finding came from wherever
the sand was taken from, many years ago. She didn't mind, she
wanted them to make a buried treasure with, so it was all good.
Still, she was delighted when, as we were leaving, we found the
hollowed-out shell of a horseshoe crab, about 15" long; that came
home with us and is going on a shelf in the Projects Cabinet.
Afterwards, the ex and I had coffee at McDonalds while the kids
played in the playroom. We discussed gender, as usual, and gender
neutral names for him to try on. (Oh, I haven't mentioned, so, to
avoid confusion: he's transgendered, and prefers masculine pronouns
these days. Main reason we're no longer married.) There are
surprisingly few such names, and many of those there are -- Peyton,
Taylor, to a lesser degree Ashley -- seem to be the kind that might
get a kid (boy anyway) beaten up n the playground. Basically, we
listed Chris and Pat. There are others that sound okay, but don't
read correctly (e.g., Joe/Jo). Also some nicknames (e.g., Andy,
Alex).
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. My night to take the
cubs, Mommy had to do laundry and grocery shopping., so dinner was
penne and veggies -- broccoli, carrots, young turnips, snap peas
and sautéed lettuce, with a little tomato paste and seasonings to
make it sauce-like.
A lot of people don't seem to know you can cook lettuce. It's quite
nice chopped and sautéed in butter. It cooks down something awful,
though, so you'll need multiple heads to make a side for a small
family. Fortunately, we had an overabundance form our food co-op
last week, which is also where I got the turnips.
The turnips are worth writing about, too. I'd only been familiar
with the rutabega -- large, hard, fibrous and pungent. These are
young, white, tender, crisp and mild and, while I've steamed a few,
most of them have been eaten raw, like apples (by me and the
2-year-old; the big one doesn't like them raw).
I set the 5-year-old in to bed with average resistance. She wanted
me to read from her Fairy Poems book. Since it was late, I told her
I'd read only two, but she wanted to read two, so I told her I'd
read two and she could read one, she wanted it the other way. The
book is mostly near-doggerel,s o i can't even remember which one
she had me read. It does have a few decent ones, though (by other
poets), so as usual I had her read Tennyson's "Elfland Horns" She
impresses me every time, getting the right intonation (even when
she doesn't recognize the word, as "cataract" or "cliff").
She's reading now; she doesn't have to sleep, usually, just be in
bed. She tends to read to herself for an hour or so. The 2-year-old
is up, but mercifully is busying herself drawing and cutting paper.
Half-mercy, anyway; she can really cover a room in sheets and
scraps of paper.
I realized tonight that we never talked about what the 4th of July
means. Well, we have, but not just recently. I'll remedy that
tomorrow; we've been concentrating on reading and
dinosaurs/evolution (and Disney's Beauty & the Beast) lately,
but she's pretty deficient on history (not her thing just now. I
expect she'll get into it in a big way in the next year or two,
just as she has with other subjects).
Lots more to do (so why am I spending time writing *this*? Aaaah!)
My writer's circle meets tomorrow, and I've got to finish an
illustration for my manuscript in time to send out tonight; then
I've got to read everyone else's pieces. Argh, damn, tomorrow is
food co-op day and I haven't started the newsletter, aargh.
Just another manic Thursday. 'Night, folks.
our usual 4th of July tradition. Low-stress this year, as we didn't
try to grill, but brought fried chicken and such. Soaked up the
haze. Which is not a complaint -- it was nice and cool for a
change; Mommy wore a hooded sweatshirt, though I found it
pleasantly balmy (I'm insanely warmblooded; until it gets near
freezing, I'm usually 10-15 degrees more comfy than everyone
else).
The 5-year-old looked for shells, but couldn't find anything but
fragments -- I explained that it was because Orchard Beach isn't a
natural beach, and the shells she was finding came from wherever
the sand was taken from, many years ago. She didn't mind, she
wanted them to make a buried treasure with, so it was all good.
Still, she was delighted when, as we were leaving, we found the
hollowed-out shell of a horseshoe crab, about 15" long; that came
home with us and is going on a shelf in the Projects Cabinet.
Afterwards, the ex and I had coffee at McDonalds while the kids
played in the playroom. We discussed gender, as usual, and gender
neutral names for him to try on. (Oh, I haven't mentioned, so, to
avoid confusion: he's transgendered, and prefers masculine pronouns
these days. Main reason we're no longer married.) There are
surprisingly few such names, and many of those there are -- Peyton,
Taylor, to a lesser degree Ashley -- seem to be the kind that might
get a kid (boy anyway) beaten up n the playground. Basically, we
listed Chris and Pat. There are others that sound okay, but don't
read correctly (e.g., Joe/Jo). Also some nicknames (e.g., Andy,
Alex).
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. My night to take the
cubs, Mommy had to do laundry and grocery shopping., so dinner was
penne and veggies -- broccoli, carrots, young turnips, snap peas
and sautéed lettuce, with a little tomato paste and seasonings to
make it sauce-like.
A lot of people don't seem to know you can cook lettuce. It's quite
nice chopped and sautéed in butter. It cooks down something awful,
though, so you'll need multiple heads to make a side for a small
family. Fortunately, we had an overabundance form our food co-op
last week, which is also where I got the turnips.
The turnips are worth writing about, too. I'd only been familiar
with the rutabega -- large, hard, fibrous and pungent. These are
young, white, tender, crisp and mild and, while I've steamed a few,
most of them have been eaten raw, like apples (by me and the
2-year-old; the big one doesn't like them raw).
I set the 5-year-old in to bed with average resistance. She wanted
me to read from her Fairy Poems book. Since it was late, I told her
I'd read only two, but she wanted to read two, so I told her I'd
read two and she could read one, she wanted it the other way. The
book is mostly near-doggerel,s o i can't even remember which one
she had me read. It does have a few decent ones, though (by other
poets), so as usual I had her read Tennyson's "Elfland Horns" She
impresses me every time, getting the right intonation (even when
she doesn't recognize the word, as "cataract" or "cliff").
She's reading now; she doesn't have to sleep, usually, just be in
bed. She tends to read to herself for an hour or so. The 2-year-old
is up, but mercifully is busying herself drawing and cutting paper.
Half-mercy, anyway; she can really cover a room in sheets and
scraps of paper.
I realized tonight that we never talked about what the 4th of July
means. Well, we have, but not just recently. I'll remedy that
tomorrow; we've been concentrating on reading and
dinosaurs/evolution (and Disney's Beauty & the Beast) lately,
but she's pretty deficient on history (not her thing just now. I
expect she'll get into it in a big way in the next year or two,
just as she has with other subjects).
Lots more to do (so why am I spending time writing *this*? Aaaah!)
My writer's circle meets tomorrow, and I've got to finish an
illustration for my manuscript in time to send out tonight; then
I've got to read everyone else's pieces. Argh, damn, tomorrow is
food co-op day and I haven't started the newsletter, aargh.
Just another manic Thursday. 'Night, folks.
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