Archive for the ‘life’ Tag
May 03 2012
Yesterday, with a bit of time to waste, Abby and I visited a thrift store with my mom. I’ve always been fond of finding a good bargain. I get giddy, actually. As seen in my closet, where, as just one example, my favorite sweater is a treasure from Goodwill, bought for $3 a few years back.
Our trip yesterday was another score. I came away with 3 shirts, a pair of capris, and a pair of jeans. All 5 pieces for $25. It wasn’t the cheapest of thrift lots, but I was still very impressed with my purchases.
I was eager to try the new-to-me items on when we came home. Especially the jeans. I had been going back and forth on those in the store, but I decided to take a chance. I slid them on, and I was instantly glad I had. Like butter. My thighs said aw, yeah.
It was like they had been waiting in that thrift store just for me.
They fit where they were supposed to fit. There was a bit of stretch so I could move without being pinched, or having rolls escape. The length couldn’t have been better, either, cascading to my heel. I’ve never had a pair of jeans fit this well.
I was seriously giving myself a mental high five.
Still wearing the jeans that I now refused to remove from my body, I bent down to sit. And that’s when we had a difference of opinion. They ripped.
Right down the crotch.
I know I bought these jeans on a discount, but that’s not exactly what I bargained for. It’s a good thing I’m not that easily offended.
April 27 2012
I am participating in Momalom’s Five for Five. Today’s topic is on Listening. Also linked up with Six Word Fridays.
Ah, the serene sounds of spring.
Spring is not my favorite time of year. I’ve never been one to hide my adverse feelings towards it. I would gladly go through a million winters if I never had to deal with another thunderstorm or tornado warning.
Although for all the negativity I feel towards this season, I do admit there are perks. When the days are nice, they are very nice. The weather is a comfortable medium, the grass is green and lush, flowers begin to bloom. It’s as if an artist came by with a paintbrush and added color.
And the birds, they sing.
The other day was one of these such days. The sky was a crisp ocean of blue, a slight breeze drifting past in a rustle. It was the kind of day that begs for open windows. Which I obliged. I sat on my couch and just listened, to nothing and everything. To nature enjoying its sunshine.
The trees were swaying lightly and birds chirp chirped in tune. And I sat and listened. With a cup of coffee in hand, eyes closed, and my legs tucked under. It was a beautiful day. And the birds, they continued to sing their music, filling my home with harmony through the open windows.
I sat and listened.
And then I heard Jedi yell from his bedroom.
“Shut up you stupid birds!”
Ah, the serene sounds of spring.
April 19 2012
There is a fly in my house.
The weather is warm, it’s bound to happen. A strident circular buzzing past your ear, and a swatting of your arm with an urgency as it tickles at your skin. The presence of this fleeting nuisance wouldn’t appear to make a dent in my day, except my kids are seemingly, absolutely, full-on terrified of flies.
“Mommy!”, they scream, “A fly! Get it!”.
“It’s just a fly”, I reassure. “It’s not going to hurt you.”
So they go on about their way, yet still continually on patrol. Like my daughter, who was watching the new Chipmunks movie for the hundredth time already while sucking ever so comfortably on a sucker. The kid lives the life. But then, there’s the fly. Buzzing it’s wings past in her sacred space. It takes a second to computer, but it’s about now when I hear another round of frightful shrilling for help.
As I lumber in, she’s holding out her sucker, almost devoured down to the stick.
Her face turns downward, the lip pouts. “The fly ate my sucker”, she relays in her most pitiful voice. “I need a new one.”
If she can’t get rid of the fly, might as well attempt to make it useful.
April 12 2012
My neighbor came over yesterday, a young woman in her early 20′s. I tend to keep to myself around here, but I’m not against being nice. With her, was her toddling 2 year old daughter, bundled in a hooded jacket as it was a little cool that early afternoon.
I gathered Abby and we headed outside for the girls to play. But if I’d seen what was about to meet us, I would have come up with some reason not to. Any reason at all.
Because that little girl’s nose was dripping snot like a faucet.
What is the proper protocol in this situation? Would screaming and running back inside be too much? while holding out a cross and holy water to ward off the evil germs? Offered a friendly bottle of cold medicine, or at least some good, old fashioned, eye-rolling parental advice?
Take your sick kid and go home, lady!
I bit my lip, and shielded my mouth, as they sat and played together with chalk, however. Infecting the purple and pink colors, especially. All the while I was hoping it would be over very quick. Careful not to touch her, or be near her, except she was keen to smear snot everywhere all over my porch.
Finally, my neighbor seemed to notice her daughter in need of a tissue, or a Hazmat suit, to put it lightly, and picked her up to take her home. Abby and I then came inside. Where I hosed us both with disinfectant and added new chalk onto my list of things to buy.
April 10 2012
Hey, so. I’ve been absent for awhile, huh?
And it would be great if I had a grand story to tell when I came back, wouldn’t it?
I’ve got nothing.
Except Abby thinks she’s a dinosaur. She was stomping back and forth through our front yard, my shy little girl. Roaring at the top of her lungs.
The boys went back to school today, after more than a week off for Spring break. Though I have to say it wasn’t much of a break. In fact, there were many times when I needed a break from the break. But they’re good.
We’re all good.
Abby has a pair of pink sparkly shoes, that she wears all day long. She’d go to bed with them if I let her. The only problem is that the sparkles flake off. Alas, there are little glimmers of unabashedly girl all over my house, in the carpet, on the couch. Etc. Even when she’s a roaring dinosaur.
Like I said, I have nothing.
But I’m still here.