Oh, Never Mind

As I was washing dishes just now, I felt a growing sense of unease. It was the unease of one who has just published the world's most inane blog post. Ever have that sensation? I mean, really: long underwear? More garden photos? Pleh. You have better things to do with your time. So how about this: I will leave the post, but I'll disable comments. Feel free to move along quickly and forget you ever heard of Bathroom Poetry, okay?

It feels much more satisfying to tell you that:

~ I am going away *alone* overnight on Sunday, for the first time since I was pregnant with Little Lad (so, five years ago). SO EXCITED.

~ The lads and I made calendula oil today from our homegrown flowers (it's a key ingredient in the salve we'll be making soon). We also poured beeswax candles to cheer us during the dark winter nights ahead.

~ I'm exploring ways to make the coming month a time of contemplation (aided by winter's darkness) and sustenance (via festivals of light) instead of a time of frenzied consumerism and autopilot adherence to rituals that no longer make sense to me. Any suggestions?

Yours in bloggy imperfection...

Bathroom Poetry and an Apology

Hanging in the bathroom: my favorite pair of long johns, probably 20 years old. They make it possible for me to wear skirts and jumpers (pinafores to you non-American lasses?) in November without my legs turning blue.

The apology is to Mother Nature (maybe specifically to Dame Autumn) for shunning her current display in favor of springtime flowers (see yesterday's post). Here, let's see if I can appease her a bit...





Off to knit some more (I know -- I'm as surprised as you are)...

Bathroom Poetry, Resurrected

This is what I saw when I opened iPhoto just now.


These images are six months old.


But after days of cold and grey and almost-constant rain, this vibrant color was what I needed. You too, maybe?


Oh, but back to the task at hand. I'm recommencing my Bathroom Poetry series, and I invite you to join me!


Ladies and gentlemen, the toilet paper basket. With requisite reading materials.

Hope you have a sunny day, one way or t'other!

A Late Afternoon Walk

Bathroom Poetry, Interrupted

It has come to my attention that there might be at least one other person who might want to participate in Bathroom Poetry week. When said person has finished her Kitchen Poetry commitment, that is. So let's pause before resuming that exercise, shall we?

In the meantime, I find myself in the mood for a little trip down Memory Lane. Allow me to present "The Three Faces of Little Lad," circa April 2005.




Happy Thursday...

Soup, Singing and Bathroom Poetry

Being a part of Blogland has so many benefits. Friendship, craft ideas to blatantly swipe (I would provide a few links, but Christmas is coming and one must keep one's secrets), and last but not least, recipes! Last night we tried Lisa's roasted-vegetable soup, and it was a winner.

Well, with the grown-ups, anyway. Others were fixated on the previously forbidden fruit: biscuits made from actual real normal-person flour. Who wouldn't be?

In other news, I am dusting off my vocal cords and singing in the community Christmas choir. The good news: those high notes are still there; they just need a little more coaxing these days. The bad news: egad, where did all this vibrato come from??? Breath support, breath support...

But really, it's good for me to be doing this. I have become a semi-hermit, and each week I kick, scream and beg my significant other to go in my stead so that I can stay curled up in my cozy nest and eat bonbons. But all three lads encourage me out the door (Little Lad: "Mama, just sing the best you can!"), and of course I end up having a good time. Well, except for last week, when some panicked high-school kid tried to kill a wasp on my thigh by whacking it/me. Hard. Surreal, really...

Speaking of surreal, I'd like to show you my upstairs bathroom. I was all fired up to join Tess and Val in Kitchen Poetry Week (which originated last year on a blog that no longer exists, otherwise I would provide a link here), but concluded that my kitchen was too dark and otherwise disappointing to feature. So...how about Bathroom Poetry instead? Here's my contribution for Day One:

The towel rack. But not just any towel rack: it's an antique quilt/blanket holder given to us by my lovely mother-in-law (aka hotshot city council member and gracious blog supporter). We put it to temporary bathroom use years ago while painting, then decided we liked it well enough to leave it there.


More bathroom close-ups to come. Feel free to post your own!

Cantankerous

I have some pretty good ideas for riveting essay-style blog posts ("My Love-Hate Relationship with My Kitchen," "I Wish I Could Time-Travel So I Could Buy These Fabulous Items from This 1937 Mail-Order Catalog"), but where is the time to implement them? And where are the brain cells at 9:00-plus PM??

So, dang it, here are a bunch of dumb ol' pictures again.








Will you guys still be coming 'round to visit in a few years when I (theoretically) have some time to do this blog justice??

P.S. A fitting subtitle for this post would be, "PMS? YES!" (insert rueful grin)

A Day in the Life

Yesterday...

1. We learned that a friend/parishioner had had a stroke overnight.
2. Then we learned that my mother-in-law had (easily) won a seat on her city council (on her birthday, no less!).
   
3. I took the briefest-ever (yet exhilarating) power walk in order to get home in time for Papa to depart for the hospital.
4. Good news: the insurance man assured us we wouldn't have to pay to repair the deer-collision damage to our car. (We do still have to fling an arm out the window to indicate our desire to turn left, however...)
   
5. Little Lad made at least three Halloween-themed alphabets. (Waldorf educational philosophy purists would not approve of this non-dreamy mental activity in a four-year-old, but discouraging LL from teaching himself to read would be a bit like trying to stop Niagara Falls from gushing. Or something like that.)
6. Big Lad worked tirelessly on his novel, for the fourth day in a row; he's doing the kids' version of NaNoWriMo. (Do you see a connection between this and Little Lad's yearning to read?)
   
7. I cooked what we call "India Feast" (spicy beans and lentils) for lunch; we ate it on a bed of quinoa, which is not very Indian but is what we like to do.
   
8. I discovered evidence of a house mouse. Yuck.
   
9. We walked Big Lad to band practice and then plucked milkweed-vine pods off of a bush and scattered their little silky-parachute seeds to the four winds (I saved a handful of the pods to try stuffing a wee eye pillow with their contents).
10. A whole bunch of other things happened, but by then the caffeine had worn off and I was in a stupor.
11. I gave my sister a long-overdue massage; it was a welcome break after the frenetic day at my Real Job.
    
12. Uncle Joe gave Little Lad a drum lesson. Little Lad wore his twirly skirt and sang the ABC song as he drummed.
13. We ate soup and bread and whatnot at my parents' house; it was lovely not to have to wash any dishes.
14. After getting two small people to bed, I welcomed Papa home from choir practice. We took a stab at solving the world's problems over a glass of wine and a couple of pieces of chocolate.
15. Discovered mouse in little plastic mouse house, lured by a dab of almond butter on a rice cake. Papa gathered it into a box and drove it down to an abandoned barn behind the defunct military school. It scampered away happily. (Papa: "It was a lot cuter than that one with the big beady eyes that we had two years ago.")
    
16. To bed at 1 a.m. Blissfully unaware that secondborn would wake up freakishly early and exhibit Difficult Behaviors all morning long.

Thanks. I needed that little therapeutic exercise...

This One Picture Says it All

I give you the psychedelic witch and the Lord of the Graveyard. With visiting witchy cousin.

Actually, here's one more:


Yep, the Sugar Sprite and her extended family will be snug as bugs all winter long...

Just About Ready for the Big Night

We have nearly memorized this book.


We have paid homage to the Sugar Sprite, who will bestow lovely gifts in exchange for a portion of our trick-or-treat candy (whose sugar she will use as fuel this winter, remember?).



We took a break from frenzied housecleaning to make Mummy Not-Dogs for lunch (thumbs up!).


And now, Papa has returned from his day-long meeting far away and is busily assembling deviled-egg eyeballs, spider-web dip and jack o' lantern grilled cheese sandwiches, with a little help from my dear sister (there's also a crockpot full of split-pea soup for the grownups). Ghoulish cookies for dessert.

I am, well, blogging, as well as making sure that everything is in order upstairs. Like makeup...


And Little Lad's costume. He decided at the very last minute that he wanted to be a witch, not a ghost, jack o' lantern, monster or any of his other previous selections. So here's what we came up with. You'll have to imagine the witch hat, pink Crocs and maroon face (yep, maroon is what the man wants) until I can get a photo of the whole ensemble.


Stay tuned...it should be interesting.


Hope you have/had a happy one!

Rocks, Rocks and More Rocks

Finally, because it has been almost two weeks and because a certain English Magpie is yearning for Ozark information...here is a little photo tour of our whirlwind geological tour of southeastern Missouri, U.S. of A.

On the first day, following the excessive coffee consumption and impromptu church visit described here, we motored over to Elephant Rocks State Park. You can learn more about it here, or you can just click on the photo above. Basically: big whonkin' pink granite formations that are reeeeally old and look a bit like elephants. If you use your imagination.

Here's a tiny-looking Little Lad with some of the elephants.


These are the so-called birdbaths on Mama Elephant's back. Ozark mountains in background.


Check it out: nineteenth-century graffiti! Those wacky quarry guys. (Me, I'm loving Papa's prance-y feet in this photo.)


After frolicking on the elephants, we stopped to admire the former quarry...


Throughout the park, we enjoyed smaller elephants and some fine foliage. And if you think that this doesn't look like midday light, you're absolutely right. My camera battery died, forcing us to return to the park in the evening so that I could get a few critical "captures."


After a motel-room picnic lunch (a person can stand only so much deep-fried restaurant food), we visited nearby Johnson's Shut-Ins. Wacky name, you say? Click on this photo for the scoop:


It met my criteria for both majesty and splendor, but once again I was thwarted in my attempts to capture its awesome power.


May I offer a cute husband instead?


On Day Two, we bid our charming old-school motel farewell and traveled back in the direction of home, stopping at the magnificent Onondaga Cave. Sad to say, I don't have any photos of it. Because, well, it's a cave, and caves are, well, somewhat darkish. But also because Little Lad and I opted out of the 90-minute tour and instead hied ourselves to a tiny beach along the nearby lovely, crystal-clear Meramec River.

Where we mostly interacted with rocks in the form of sand.


Little Lad did allow me to indulge in a favorite pastime from my childhood, however. I call it "rock beautification via moistening."


Finally, we hauled ourselves to the bustling university town of Rolla, in order to visit the Ed Clark Museum of Missouri Geology. Do you know that Missouri produces ninety percent of the nation's lead?

Oh, sorry -- of course you do!


It's also the Cave State, with at least 5,500 caves (think Tom Sawyer). And eastern Missouri boasts the New Madrid Fault, which may be about to do a little dance that destroys St. Louis as well as portions of Tennesee, Kentucky and Illinois. On the other hand, it might be "shutting down." Isn't it exciting to contemplate which experts might be right?

(Pausing to ponder: Is there anyone else who can turn a nice blog post about her mini-vacation into a chilling forecast of doom? Just another of my specialties!)

Okay! There it is. And in spite of not getting enough sleep, eating weird stuff, and some people being terrified of every grasshopper and ladybug (while strangely NOT being afraid of haphazard, imprudent rock-climbing), we all had a great time.

See?

Autumn As I See It

I call this "Air Conditioner As Mother Nature's Tabletop"

I've sat here for a while, plodding through the half-zillion photos I took of fall foliage (which was especially vibrant this year, emphasis on was), and here's my conclusion: my photos are unremarkable. Underwhelming. There are plenty of people out there who aren't trying to capture autumn's splendor via a five-year-old Kodak EasyShare point-and-shoot with a whopping four megapixels. I am not one of them.

Actually, I should be more specific: a five-year-old Kodak EasyShare with a broken toggle switch that gives me this message when I turn it on: "Date and time have been reset. Set date and time!" And then it laughs at me because without a working toggle switch, I can't set date and time. Instead, I have to wait a few minutes for the message to go away. And then I have to hope like heck that I can remember what day and approximate time I took my pictures; otherwise, they'll be stamped "February 2003" forever and ever. Which is a drag.

Anyhoo, back to the pictures. If I can't offer beauty, at least maybe I can supply some pleasant quirkiness? Here goes...

"Spying On Small-Town Mail Carrier"

"Rumpled Massage Table in Autumn Light"

"Warty Old Gourd"

"Some Weed that Looks Prettier than it Did Before"

"Too Cold to Unfurl"

"Birdie McLean: Jungle Cat"

"Do Enter!"

"Keepin' the Color Going" (aka Mama Can Rock the Tie-Dye Too)

Coming soon (probably): the rest of those vacation photos. Or not.

Calling All Australians

Little Lad has become smitten with Shirley Barber's Martha B. Rabbit stories, which are scarce in this part of the world.


Somehow we managed to luck into a handsome collection of three of the tales: Martha B. Rabbit and the Unexpected Guests, Martha B. Rabbit and Daphne the Forgetful Duck, and Martha B. Rabbit and those Wicked Rats Again.


We yearn for The Fairies' Cook and any other Martha title, but alas, these don't appear to reside anywhere in this particular hemisphere.


So...Amelia? Karyl? Mary? Anyone??? If you happen to see a copy, a certain Christmas elf would love to chat with you...

P.S. The previous blog post was my 300th. Isn't that scary??

Seen in the Ozarks, Day One

The purpose of our descent ("down south") and ascent (uphill) into the Ozark Mountains of our fair state was to explore majestic geological splendors; to engage in an extended field trip to support Big Lad's current topic o' learning. And majestic those splendors were. But we found ourselves sidetracked more than once by other really cool stuff. Like an espresso joint run by vintage hippie folk.


Can you spot the tie-dyed undergarment in this photo??


Wired on too much impossibly good coffee, we set off for Elephant Rocks State Park. But then we got distracted by this adorable 150-year-old church.

Not my best photo of it, but I love the mystical violet ray.

Let's keep these shenanigans under our hat, shall we? (Pastors' kids = The Worst.)


That red SUV belongs to the vicar. Wonder if she was peeping out her kitchen window and perspiring heavily as she watched these hooligans cavort on the church lawn? Or maybe she enjoyed the throw-myself-to-the-ground tantrum that occurred five seconds after this photo was taken (reason for meltdown: Red Rover game not long enough for one's liking). Who knows. I'm just glad we didn't break anything. As far as I know.


I see that it's almost time for me to collect my lil' darlings from grandma's -- where did the time go? Guess I'll have to show you the aforementioned majestic splendors a bit later. But I will leave you with another enchanting aspect of the Missouri Ozarks: Le Junque Exotique.

What, you mean to tell me you don't need any rusty old gas-station signs? Or perhaps a semi trailer trumpeting "GOD"??

Because trust me, you can't go wrong when you purchase from Plunder Palace.

Coming soon: more sublime, (slightly) less ridiculous...

Melancholia

Some people dread autumn because it's all about death and dying.


And because it marks the beginning of cold and grey and limited mobility and cabin fever.


I'm not crazy about any of those things either.

Still, the bright foliage, the invigorating breezes, the absence of killer mosquitoes...well, those are just a few reasons why autumn usually makes my heart go pit-a-pat.


But right now? I just feel kind of pleh. Maybe it's post-vacation letdown. Or sheer flat-out exhaustion. Maybe I'm feeling cheated because my tree looked like this when we were away...


...but looks like this now that we're home.


And probably it's all of the death that's been happening in my neighborhood during the past few months: of a person, a favorite cat, two trees and a couple of marriages. That's a lot to grieve, even if I've mostly been on the periphery of it all.


So please excuse me if I curl up quietly for a bit (as much as Little Lad will allow me to curl up quietly, that is) and stick to mostly speechless posts for a while. Vacation photos, autumn leaves...nothing too taxing, but mighty therapeutic for me.

Take care...

Late-Night Interstate Truck Stop

As long as we're at the instrument shop...

...might I show you around?

Scenes from a Drumming Contest

(Big apologies to Joe for not taking any photos of the actual performance! I was too busy video-ing and being transfixed. As well as being just the tiniest bit of a nervous wreck.)

Found at the church rummage sale

Remember how I said "back soon?" Well, bet you didn't expect it to be this soon! I couldn't overcome the urge to prepare a few "in absentia" blog posts. Because I needed to stay up past 3:00 a.m. on the night before vacation. And then run screaming around my house doing last-minute packing an hour before departure the next day. It's a technique that works for me.

Anyway, how about some pictures of what's been happening lately? I'll inflict these on you for a few days and then give you a breather. Toodles!

vintage blocks

charming book and rosy tablecloth

groovy retro four-seasons pictures

Happy Anniversary

To my knight in shining...um, daffodil yellow flame-retardant agricultural burn garb?


Or something like that.

(This is one of my all-time favorite photos of three of my all-time favorite people. Four and a half years later, it still makes me snort with laughter. I am so tickled that they gave me the green light to share it with you.)

I'd love to tell you charming tales about my heroic can-do husband and how he spent our anniversary yesterday performing a wedding for some people whose regular pastor was gravely ill with pneumonia. Or how he sacrificed work time during a crazy-busy week to care for Little Lad so Big Lad and I could make a road trip to watch Mr. Goggles (above) compete in a drum solo competition. [Incidentally, he won the first round and will compete afresh next week. Go, Joe!] But it is 1:14 a.m., I'm still working to cross 173 items off of my to-do list in preparation for a week-long trip that starts tomorrow, and I am no longer charming. I might even be the antithesis of charming. And so I say adieu, to yeu and yeu and yeu...and I wish you a wonderful week. Back soon!

He's Hard Work But I Like Him

(Most of the time.)

A Rocky Day Out

On Wednesday morning we made an impromptu visit to this town as part of our study of geology. Specifically, we hiked the Katy Trail (our state's rails-to-trails offering) and looked at impressive limestone river bluffs.


Here's one. I know it doesn't look impressive; you pretty much have to be on the other side of the river to appreciate its majesty.


Speaking of the river...


This goose was honking for all it was worth. Maybe trying to hail a passing barge?


Some of us had a fantastic time. We imagined who/what might lurk in the little caves.


We marveled at the plants (trees, even!) that managed to grow out of tiny cracks in the rock.


The other member of our party was a bit preoccupied by Concerns. Like, what if we got stung by the inhabitants of these?


Or what if we slipped into the river?


Both valid concerns, I suppose. Much moreso than the fear of passing cyclists and invisible snakes. Fortunately, we had distractions: tiny waterfalls, a treasure hunt to find Mama's camera lens after Mama dropped her camera on the ground (Big Lad: "Here it is! I found it!" Mama: "No, honey, that is a bottle top." Fortunately, Big Lad was correct. Perhaps Mama's been wearing her latest pair of contacts a wee bit too long...). After a while, however, little legs were tired and there was nothing to do but repair to the local snack joint/general store. Which was under brand-new ownership and had very little to offer just yet (we opted for bags of chips).

Although this item was tempting...


P.S. I forgot to mention that it was also Impromptu Tie-Dye Day.


Shall we dance?

October

Golden, you are,

October.

Golden sovereigns on your trees.
Golden guineas on your floor,
golden coins of leaves
that fall
for us to scuffle through
and rustle
and rattle
and hustle
and scrabble
and dabble
and paddle
as they fall
into an October carpet
which hides
our shoes.

from Around the Year
by Elsa Beskow

The Plums, They Be Making Me Plump, Part Two

What is the meaning of this?!? This morning: muffins with plum jam hidden in the center.

Is this some sort of Secret Plum Conspiracy?

There's even a little of this other stuff left over from last night (but not much):


Is it a mystical sign that I am a Pretty Lovely über-Mama? Or a Paunchy Lethargic Underactive Mess?

[Okay, full disclosure here: ever since I got that thingie that hooks onto my shoe, I've actually been a non-lethargic walking fool. In fact, I can't seem to stop signing up for Challenges, the first one being 30 Miles in 30 Days. Which ends at midnight tomorrow. And I still have 5.8 miles to go. Which might cause you to ask: "Why are you blogging and ingesting plum products when you should be hoofing it around the track??" Wow. That's a really good question.]


Perhaps it means that there is something wrong with my plum(b)ing.

Alternate photo for those of you who might agree with my husband, who just looked over my shoulder and commented that the previous photo looked like a hand full of vomit:

Hmmm. No, that one isn't a whole lot better.

Anyway, please ponder the plum puzzle and get back to me. I need to have a lie down, because all of this ruminating has got me, well, plum tuckered out.

Papa Speechless, Gourmet

Most Monday afternoons, my mother gives Big Lad a piano lesson, I give my dad a massage, and then we all gorge ourselves on some elaborate feast concocted by my significant other, who is 100 percent responsible for the extra 30 pounds I've been hauling around for the past decade and a half.


Seriously. It has nothing to do with cortisol or estrogen or pure laziness. Well, maybe a teensy bit. That and childbearing. Which, technically, is 50 percent his fault, right? YES!


But this wasn't meant to be a post in which I processed my suppressed rage at my husband for being a fabulous cook. This was meant to be a post in which I shared tonight's tentative dinner menu:

Winter Squash Risotto
Glazed Carrots
Plum Upside-Down Cake

Yours in chubby suffering...

Important Things

Do you ever lose sight of what's really important?


Ever find yourself so preoccupied with how to create meaningful experiences for your children that you forget it's as simple as hiking down to the creek?


Throwing rocks...


Making plein-air drawings...


Or maybe staying at home and throwing an old quilt and some art supplies on the front porch?


And watching from the porch swing as play unfolds without any interference from you?


Oh, that never happens to you?


Yeah, me neither.

Ahem.


Let's see a show of hands: how many of you think that The Coffee Lady will make a snippy remark about the "blue" corn chips pictured in Photo #5? Yeah, me too! (I love you, Coffee Lady. Truly I do.)

P.S. In case you need to know: from left to right, Little Lad's drawings are "a hot-air balloon" and "Aunt Amy."

Early September

A dozen images of life around here lately...

Aimless, Mostly

An hour ago I took Little Lad to school for the first time.

Fifteen minutes ago I walked Big Lad to band practice at the middle school.

I have a long list of things to do.

I can't seem to settle down and concentrate enough to do a single one of them.

Sheesh.

My Two Realities, Redux

Reality #1. Beauty. Quiet splendor.

photo by Big Lad

Reality #2: This.

Need more? This afternoon:

Little Lad to Big Lad (cheerfully): I'm going to poke out your eye so you'll be blind!

Mama: Do NOT poke out your brother's eye, or there will be NO muffins for you.

A Better Mother would have gently offered the In Our Family We Are Friendly and Kind speech. But the Threat of Consequences approach is, for now, more effective. Especially when the muffins are special Sunday afternoon jammy muffins.


So eyeballs remained intact, we had our muffin party...and then we took a long-overdue fambly walk. (Alert readers might notice that the photo below looks a bit like the one here, only greener.)


And even though we had issues there, too (like Little Lad's sudden and complete terror of all dogs -- who knew!), we also had plenty o' beauty.


It sure is nice to be back here to share it all with you.

They Took It Down

Ladies and gentlemen: I am sitting at my local public library, with precisely six minutes to go before I am kicked off of this computer. Yes, my own computer has officially croaked. We're hoping it's resurrectable (is that a word? Ack! No dictionary here! Well, I mean, there IS a dictionary here -- it's a library, after all. But I'm down to four minutes and am not about to race over to the reference section right now)...Anyhoo, I'll see you some time. Meanwhile, here's a blog post I had waiting in draft. I hadn't released it yet because, well, it's not exactly uplifting. But here it is anyway... Ciao! [Okay, I figured out how to activate spell check...but no time! "Resurrectable" must remain!]

~~~

The view from my upstairs bathroom window, August 12, 9:00 a.m.:


Same view, noonish:


And the next day:


Bummer.

Oh, well -- more sun for my flowers, right?


Sigh.