Roses are red, violets are blue, Blogs are read, livejournals, too. O dear internet, how I love you! XOXO Lizardek Cracking Me Up: Why Should Cupid Have All the Fun? More Cracking Me Up: Nothing says I love you like a skull and crossbones
Anders’ flight was cancelled and he was already coming in late to Copenhagen, which pushes his arrival home tonight into the wee hours. I am wiped out from a long week of work and single-parenting, but am determined to stay up and make sure my mindpowers bring him safely home. If I fell asleep who knows what would happen? The kids and I watched (nearly) the entire opening ceremonies of the 20th Olympic Games. I don’t even know what you call the thing they did to make the ski jumper figure out of people on the stage, and then the...
When my children are bored, I put my hands on my hips with exasperation and say, “How can you possibly be bored? You have so many toys, so many books, so many friends, so many things you could be doing!” and then I start listing them one by one with my head cocked first to one side, then the other, until the kids run screaming in capitulation from the room to amuse themselves elsewhere. When my husband is bored, I kick him out of the house, which is really where he longs to be. He’s happiest doing something outside that...
Overnight, all the water in the wind made the transition directly to the vapor phase, locking on as if the frost and fog spirits had taken a high-pressure hose and sprayed white flocked velvet on the southwest side of everything up on the hill. The fog hugs every contour and hides the world. The hoarfrost is half an inch thick, it lopsides the trees with white icing. Everything is suddenly blooming again…with frost flowers, the crystalline structures built on suspended and subliminated vapor. The trees have all aged and grown beards and ghostly white skeletal fluff. I come home to...
I need to get cracking if I’m going to get everything done before the psychos from the internet all my houseguests arrive. I tried to sleep in but failed. kachunknorge, however, took my admonition to “sleep in as long as you like” quite literally and is either still snoozing or reading in her room thinking I’m still abed. Grocery shopping, final cleaning and bed-making on the day’s agenda. Then, because this IS a slumber party, I have to make room in the freezer for BRAS! muahahahaha!
I don’t know everyone who is reading this journal. In fact, I don’t know the majority of you. I’ve met a few people “in real life” and I know that my family and some of the people I know, people I’m close to, people I’m friends with, read it…maybe not on a daily basis, but once in awhile I get a comment or an email to let me know someone stopped by. The community that this technology has opened up never ceases to amaze me. I am blessed by it every day. I wrote once, quite awhile ago, and can’t...
I have Christmas on the brain at the moment. It’s because I finished doing the house decorating today, with Martin’s help. All we have left in boxes are the tree ornaments, but we won’t be getting a tree until the 17th, because tomorrow we’re visiting friends and next weekend we’ve got Martin’s birthday party on Saturday and about 42 million calendar commitments on Sunday, of which we’ve chosen 3 to attend. I think. It’s hard to keep track. I’ve started the layout for our annual Christmas newsletter and gotten all my Christmas cards out of the back of the closet,...
I think I’ve figured out what’s going on. It’s a full moon! But wait! Wasn’t it a full moon yesterday? Come to think of it, it was a full moon THREE DAYS AGO. Are we STUCK?! Well, actually, Martin and I sussed out the moon 3 days ago, and after checking it over very carefully, heads tilted to first one side and then the other, we agreed that it wasn’t quuuuuuuuuuuuuite full yet. It was still a shade squashy on one side. But it was for sure a full moon the night after. The night after that was cloudy, and...
oh, it’s an insidious feeling…it’s the same sort of thing that happens sometimes when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff or driving. The urge to hurl yourself off a precipice without looking back. Can you fly? I think not. Although, in this particular instance, the feeling is more one of NOT taking action than of doing something impetuous and deadly. It’s what happens when you haven’t written for several days and the principle about a body at rest tending to stay at rest makes it hard to imagine being able to start … the … ball … rolling...
Our email program just stopped working a few weeks ago for no apparent reason and we’ve been wrestling with it ever since trying to get it to work again. First me, then Anders, then me, then Anders, with no luck. Trying every possible combination, removing all accounts and re-entering the info. Turning options on and off. ARGH! I hate this sort of thing. Suddenly, something worked and now we can get emails again, and we DON’T KNOW HOW WE FIXED IT. If it stops again, we won’t know what we did that made it come back to life. *grumblestupidcomputersgrumble* I...