50-cent package of Easter eggs. One dozen, six bright colors.
Best. toy. EVER.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Happy Wednesday
This series is just gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. I love the blue post - that old Singer reminds me of the old sewing machines Jonathan and I saw last time we went thrifting. I wanted one. But aren't the colors adorable?
Apparently I'm behind the times, but some people are having royal wedding parties to watch the event on TV. Free printables.
Peter Jackson has up his first video blog from the Hobbit movie. I'd embed it, but Blogger tends to cut off my videos. So just go watch it on Youtube - ten minutes of Bag End, Rivendell, the Misty Mountains, some nifty dwarvish facial hair (and armor! and swords!) and a really drool-worthy wardrobe department. You'll also get to see the native New Zealanders' blessing ceremony. I want to go to Weta now and help hem cloaks. Please?
Sigh. For those of us not invited to help with the Hobbit, here's how to make pinch pleated drapes that actually look good. The tutorial looks quite straightforward. The secret: pleat tape and pleater hooks. I had no idea such a thing existed.
I'm still off my schedule from the lovely weekend away. I spent the day doing things like buying groceries and leggings, and rearranging the bookshelves in hopes of finding a missing DVD, actually finding the missing real cell phone and toy cow, and of course posting fabulous things to share with you all. In any case, I had to double check what day it is. Happy Wednesday!
Apparently I'm behind the times, but some people are having royal wedding parties to watch the event on TV. Free printables.
Peter Jackson has up his first video blog from the Hobbit movie. I'd embed it, but Blogger tends to cut off my videos. So just go watch it on Youtube - ten minutes of Bag End, Rivendell, the Misty Mountains, some nifty dwarvish facial hair (and armor! and swords!) and a really drool-worthy wardrobe department. You'll also get to see the native New Zealanders' blessing ceremony. I want to go to Weta now and help hem cloaks. Please?
Sigh. For those of us not invited to help with the Hobbit, here's how to make pinch pleated drapes that actually look good. The tutorial looks quite straightforward. The secret: pleat tape and pleater hooks. I had no idea such a thing existed.
I'm still off my schedule from the lovely weekend away. I spent the day doing things like buying groceries and leggings, and rearranging the bookshelves in hopes of finding a missing DVD, actually finding the missing real cell phone and toy cow, and of course posting fabulous things to share with you all. In any case, I had to double check what day it is. Happy Wednesday!
Monday, April 18, 2011
The mythical island produce stand
It all sounded so innocent. Here we are on Chincoteague, and Kay and I are up for doing dinner tonight. Meg's just down for her nap and should sleep another couple of hours. There's supposed to be this produce stand on Church Street, which is just a couple of blocks over, so we should run see if they have fresh asparagus for dinner! Wouldn't that be yummy with a little melted butter?
Yeah.
So cheerfully we venture forth. Only Kay's car is parked in the back and everybody would have to move for us to get out, but it's okay, we'll walk; I'm wearing my high-heeled cute boots from Lexington, but it's not far. First thing, we discover a shortcut to the beach and the dollar store. Nice.
About three or four blocks later we find Church Street, with the help of Kay's iphone. Left or right? Um... Left. We walk. And walk. I decide I'm desperate enough to ask directions, so I stop at the hardware store and ask the man behind the counter if there's a vegetable stand around here. He jumps up and leads me out to the road.
"Yeah! See that boot, right there?"
Are we talking a lawn ornament? I see houses, yards, a giant half-buried anchor, and a boat trailer. "Oh, you mean the boat?"
"Yeah, the boot. The produce stand is right behind that boot."
I thank him and we walk on. We pass a Strings 'N' Things music store, with "Hey darlin" on the sign and the owner sitting in the front yard. I wave.
The produce stand is labeled, but it looks more like a construction site. However, we've come all this way, and I'm not about to go home without at least trying for some asparagus. We weave past the trucks and piles of bricks into the room with the blaring music. The proprietor is busy sanding boards.
"Got any produce?" I ask. That's not going down in any "great lines of the century" compendia.
The proprietor very politely explains that this early in the season, there's not enough business to sell produce during the week, so he's working construction now but the stand will be open on the weekend. We thank him and leave him to his cabinet, repeating "Got any produce" at intervals. Brilliant.
After that, we decide to walk downtown and find a grocery store. Or something. We wander past the post office for stamps and a t-shirt place for postcards, and Kay's iphone directs us to a grocery store. About now my feet are killing me, so we pause and sit on every bench we pass and stand up really straight in between. I toy with calling Lisa to come rescue us. Oh well.
Frozen green beans in hand, we head home. I take off my socks and shoes and go barefoot the last block. As Kay pointed out, the main thing about any adventure is to make it home with all appendages attached. Check!
Yeah.
So cheerfully we venture forth. Only Kay's car is parked in the back and everybody would have to move for us to get out, but it's okay, we'll walk; I'm wearing my high-heeled cute boots from Lexington, but it's not far. First thing, we discover a shortcut to the beach and the dollar store. Nice.
About three or four blocks later we find Church Street, with the help of Kay's iphone. Left or right? Um... Left. We walk. And walk. I decide I'm desperate enough to ask directions, so I stop at the hardware store and ask the man behind the counter if there's a vegetable stand around here. He jumps up and leads me out to the road.
"Yeah! See that boot, right there?"
Are we talking a lawn ornament? I see houses, yards, a giant half-buried anchor, and a boat trailer. "Oh, you mean the boat?"
"Yeah, the boot. The produce stand is right behind that boot."
I thank him and we walk on. We pass a Strings 'N' Things music store, with "Hey darlin" on the sign and the owner sitting in the front yard. I wave.
The produce stand is labeled, but it looks more like a construction site. However, we've come all this way, and I'm not about to go home without at least trying for some asparagus. We weave past the trucks and piles of bricks into the room with the blaring music. The proprietor is busy sanding boards.
"Got any produce?" I ask. That's not going down in any "great lines of the century" compendia.
The proprietor very politely explains that this early in the season, there's not enough business to sell produce during the week, so he's working construction now but the stand will be open on the weekend. We thank him and leave him to his cabinet, repeating "Got any produce" at intervals. Brilliant.
After that, we decide to walk downtown and find a grocery store. Or something. We wander past the post office for stamps and a t-shirt place for postcards, and Kay's iphone directs us to a grocery store. About now my feet are killing me, so we pause and sit on every bench we pass and stand up really straight in between. I toy with calling Lisa to come rescue us. Oh well.
Frozen green beans in hand, we head home. I take off my socks and shoes and go barefoot the last block. As Kay pointed out, the main thing about any adventure is to make it home with all appendages attached. Check!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Going places
"They're very talented, and you can see exactly where they're trying to take us, but they don't take us anywhere nice. Don't try to tell me that the journey is the point of the journey. In that case, you can just as well take us somewhere nice. Puddleglum and I are staying here until you Mapquest us somewhere better." Jonathan
We were ranting, er, talking about why older authors are better than most 20th-century ones. :-) I think, if ever I have to write a dissertation on someone and have to look smart, I'll pick Robert Louis Stevenson because he's fun. I have enough to do, I just don't want to read someone who isn't going somewhere I want to go.
We were ranting, er, talking about why older authors are better than most 20th-century ones. :-) I think, if ever I have to write a dissertation on someone and have to look smart, I'll pick Robert Louis Stevenson because he's fun. I have enough to do, I just don't want to read someone who isn't going somewhere I want to go.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Imitative behavior
Right now Meg is wearing one of my cropped cardigans as a sort of royal robe, super-cutely. It's got these wide kimono sleeves on her and Jonathan cinched it with a rainbow belt.
She sits and flips pages in her books. She lets out a thoughtful "Hmm!" when investigating something new. She jumps in and out of a hula hoop giggling wildly. She has learned how to put on a hairband and a hat, and to hold a shoe on her head while turning in circles (not sure about that one).
So I shouldn't be surprised that twice now this evening, she has busted out with a perfect maniacal laugh. "MWAHAHAHA!" She isn't really talking yet, just lots of preverbal chatter and animal noises, but I expect her to start any day. Probably in full sentences. No doubt, she will begin with her plans to take over the world.
She sits and flips pages in her books. She lets out a thoughtful "Hmm!" when investigating something new. She jumps in and out of a hula hoop giggling wildly. She has learned how to put on a hairband and a hat, and to hold a shoe on her head while turning in circles (not sure about that one).
So I shouldn't be surprised that twice now this evening, she has busted out with a perfect maniacal laugh. "MWAHAHAHA!" She isn't really talking yet, just lots of preverbal chatter and animal noises, but I expect her to start any day. Probably in full sentences. No doubt, she will begin with her plans to take over the world.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
General update
I realized I hadn't posted for a few days, so I thought I'd drop in. Next week (and the week after!) are looking full.
Today was a quiet and book-full Sunday. I read an entire YA book from yesterday's library run, Elizabeth C. Bunce's Star Crossed. It was pretty good, though a little too magic-ey to be a complete favorite. But it sucked me in well enough to read in one sitting and I want the sequel when it comes out. So that's a recommendation. It reminded me a little of the Attolia books and of the Stardust movie. Also, in case you're wondering like I was, the main plot does not involve lovers. Yes!
Skimming through my blogs, I'm so impressed with what everybody's doing with themselves. Maggie is writing period letters to go with her historical reenactment, authentic ink and handwriting and all; Holly is writing very intelligent legal-political columns; and all my other bloggers seem to be coming out with lovely springy projects and pretty houses and food, or organizing medieval source websites, or losing thirty pounds, or something. Of course that's what they do, but still.
One side effect of motherhood nobody warned me about is how it seems to turn your brains to mush. Jonathan tells me Meg hasn't eaten my brains, just my oomph. Either way, cooking real non-prefab food has been almost nonexistent around here lately, at the pasta or pancakes level. I did manage to hem a [FABULOUS if I do say so myself] maxi skirt yesterday and take in the waist. Does that count? I've never been a terribly high-energy person, and I know comparisons are odorous, as Dogberry put it, but it would be nice to feel really clever and effective. And a perfect housekeeper, who never has crusted blobs on the table. Yep. That would be lovely. Do perfect housekeepers even exist? Aren't they mythical, like the haggis-beast?
Coming up, we've got batches of company, a doctor's appointment, and half a spring break in Chincoteague with friends. And in less than a month, Jonathan graduates! WOOHOO!
Today was a quiet and book-full Sunday. I read an entire YA book from yesterday's library run, Elizabeth C. Bunce's Star Crossed. It was pretty good, though a little too magic-ey to be a complete favorite. But it sucked me in well enough to read in one sitting and I want the sequel when it comes out. So that's a recommendation. It reminded me a little of the Attolia books and of the Stardust movie. Also, in case you're wondering like I was, the main plot does not involve lovers. Yes!
Skimming through my blogs, I'm so impressed with what everybody's doing with themselves. Maggie is writing period letters to go with her historical reenactment, authentic ink and handwriting and all; Holly is writing very intelligent legal-political columns; and all my other bloggers seem to be coming out with lovely springy projects and pretty houses and food, or organizing medieval source websites, or losing thirty pounds, or something. Of course that's what they do, but still.
One side effect of motherhood nobody warned me about is how it seems to turn your brains to mush. Jonathan tells me Meg hasn't eaten my brains, just my oomph. Either way, cooking real non-prefab food has been almost nonexistent around here lately, at the pasta or pancakes level. I did manage to hem a [FABULOUS if I do say so myself] maxi skirt yesterday and take in the waist. Does that count? I've never been a terribly high-energy person, and I know comparisons are odorous, as Dogberry put it, but it would be nice to feel really clever and effective. And a perfect housekeeper, who never has crusted blobs on the table. Yep. That would be lovely. Do perfect housekeepers even exist? Aren't they mythical, like the haggis-beast?
Coming up, we've got batches of company, a doctor's appointment, and half a spring break in Chincoteague with friends. And in less than a month, Jonathan graduates! WOOHOO!
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