Sunday, December 31, 2006
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Merry Christmas from the family
Sunday, December 10, 2006
What was there, and how I saw it. . .
Friday, December 08, 2006
Through the eyes of a child
Bet you all think this will be a profoundly beautiful message, or even better, insight into the icy days still lingering after two weeks, here in Lake Wobegon. I mean, Northern Colorado. Not so, dear readers. Recently I was tagged by Kelly AND Shari. The tag: List 6 weird things about yourself. Well, I couldn't really think of anything particularly weird, so instead, enlisted the observations of an objective third-party. The results are as follows, in the order given:
1) I (apparently) always want everything "just right", even "perfect". ('Scuz me, have you looked at the kitchen floor recently? Or any other floor in my house? The yard? The closets? The skeletons?)
2) I NEVER (really, not even to go to the bathroom?) take a break from work (except for that 2 day War marathon, or to read all of a Series of Unfortunate Events, or to listen to someone shouting "Mathematics rule!!!" every time I answer another square root question. Which brings us to #3.)
3) I don't like abstract math. (Too true, alas. It's one of the great regrets of my shallow and empty life.)
4) I ALWAYS give hints about presents. ("Please, please, puhleeeezzzzz give me just one little hint. Please. . .")
5) I don't want a say in which restaurant we all go to. ( I suddenly seem to be ignoring my stance in #1. How progressive of me!)
and last but not least:
6) I don't "like" to cook. (What a crock (pot)! If I don't choose to slave over a hot stove (what am I crazy? - sheesh, I could probably get warmed up if I did -) only to be met with a bevy of shapes and sizes of turned up noses because "that bean soup is NOT DELICIOUS. ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US", but instead mix up lovely pitchersful of colorful and tasty beverages then all I can say is, Please God, let me be weird until the day I die. Amen.)
This post is dedicated to Dante, my darling (eeeewwww), thoughtful (I MEAN, he THINKS A LOT) not quite 9 year old grandson.
Thanks, kiddo. Luv ya more than tongue can tell.