Thursday, November 02, 2006

Halloween in photos

Halloween baking
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Edible pot of dirt plus worms and frogs (aka chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles and marzipan pot and gummies).
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Hannah’s first try at a costume. We guessed “chimney sweep”, but she was really a witch (note the broom).
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Gruesome!
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Hannah attends a Halloween party thrown by her best friend
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Hannah sorts her loot
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Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Happy happy, joy joy

Sometimes it is good to unload and get all the hate out—kind of like lancing a boil. Even though John claims people enjoy my occasional overflow of vitriol, I thought I would take this opportunity to help you get the taste of hate out of your mouth by listing a few of my favorite things. (In the interest of full disclosure, there are no kittens or packages or string on this list.)

You already know how I love the M song and “Mahna Mahna”, but here’s another Muppet classic, “Never Smile at a Crocodile.” I laugh like a toddler in diapers every time that croc munches up one of the frogs.

NEVER SMILE AT A CROCODILE
(Peter Pan)

Never smile at a crocodile
No, you can't get friendly with a crocodile
Don't be taken in by his welcome grin
He's imagining how well you'd fit within his skin

Never smile at a crocodile
Never dip your hat and stop to talk awhile
Never run, walk away, say good-night, not good-day
Clear the aisle but never smile at Mister Crocodile



Hannah. Enough said.

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Halloween, which will get its own post soon.

Christmas socks.

Coffee.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Nee Hates on Everyone

I don’t know why I’ve been in such a bad mood lately. It’s like I had a double-portion of hate and a side order of annoyance, but it’s still sitting in my gut like a lump of poorly digested hate. Or something. Maybe it’s hormonal, or the start of winter, or the time change. You choose.

Or maybe it’s all of the above PLUS my husband. There is a perfect word for him in German: Nervensäge (lit. “nerve saw”). When I’m already in a foul mood, like yesterday, he likes to push my buttons until I’m literally raging with clenched fists and gritted teeth and everything, then he says, “You’re scary.” GAHHH! He’s lucky I didn’t smother him in his sleep last night, but I always fall asleep first, so it’s not likely that is ever going to happen.

Giving Hannah a nibble on the cheek often helps me calm down, unless I have just noticed that she’s put a clean and folded pair of socks in the laundry (for the third time), or that she hasn’t put away her clean laundry and has instead thrown it on top of the tower on her play bed. GAHHH!

What else? Oh, yes. The cats’ very existence. Other drivers. Other bus passengers. That lady with a baby. That old lady. *Our downstairs neighbor*! Our new next-door neighbors. Our landlord. And a bunch of people I’m too tired to hate on right now.

Except I went to class and hopped right back on the hate-train. This jackass, who is not even officially signed up for our course, keeps jumping up and literally taking over every class (I mean, picking up a piece of chalk and drawing on the board and dominating the instructor). Hate! I’m bumping him above the neighbors on the hate-list. And he has a deep voice and makes a lot of sub-vocal comments and hmmms and ah-has, so it sounds like someone below us has the bass cranked up. I was on the verge of jumping out of my chair and throttling him, except I didn’t want to disrupt my classmate’s presentation (which this guy had already interrupted two or three times).

Let the healing begin!

Hannah the Chef

Hannah is the sweetest sweet little monkey-face! (She likes it when I call her that. Really!) She is still enamoured of the idea of becoming a restaurateur, so in furtherance of her career dreams, she offered to cook us dinner one night. The whole thing.

She planned the menu (see below), went grocery shopping with me, prepared the food (including a salad dressing from scratch), folded the napkins (into paper airplanes—unique!), set the table, lit candles, and generally provided a delightful culinary experience for us. She may have gone a bit overboard with the place settings (says the chief bottle-washer): a plate, a salad plate, and 2 bowls *each*. We ate salad, roast chicken, and mashed potatoes. There were more items of china than items of food! She also provided spaghetti eis (vanilla ice cream pushed through a press into “noodles”) for dessert. Yum!

I tried to convince her that all chefs have to train on dishwashing, too, but she didn’t believe me.

She wanted everything to be as fresh as possible, so if you ordered orange juice, you got an orange with a hole poked in it sitting atop a glass. You don’t get any fresher than that!

Menu

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Putting on the finishing touches

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Monday, October 30, 2006

Photos galore

Am I the only one that thinks this poinsettia is turning red(dish)?
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I love the views at the end of our valley (the back of the hill where the castle is located), especially in the evening and when there’s fog. I’m tempted to do a photo essay on fog, but I’m just not a good enough photographer.

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Real content soon, I hope.

Friday, October 27, 2006

In my head

I have spent most of the last four days singing the following to myself. But that’s all right, right?



Before that, it was this one:




I have finally discovered the perfect solution to my xmas music predicament: John Denver and Muppets! The great taste that tastes great together!


And for your reading enjoyment:
Around a dozen Japanese tourists a year need psychological treatment after visiting Paris as the reality of unfriendly locals and scruffy streets clashes with their expectations, a newspaper reported on Sunday.


Halloween crafts made of tampons


An interview with Velvet d'Amour, a plus-size model who was in Jean Paul Gaultier's fashion show during Paris Fashion Week.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Rubbing It In

Don't hate me for living in such a beautiful corner of the world. Hate me for gloating about it. ;-p

View from our study
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View from our upstairs bathroom
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Teaching the Teacher

I am taking a teaching methods course and have already enjoyed our first two meetings. I’m not nervous about teaching per se—as John says, tongue in cheek, it’s one of the few jobs where people have to listen to everything *you* say, but you don’t necessarily have to listen to them. :-) And I am teaching two classes this semester on topics that I feel fully qualified to instruct others on—American English pronunciation and how to put together a presentation.

I am not quite up to terrified about teaching German, more like very, very nervous. I know my German is leaps and bounds better than when we moved here, but good enough to be able to help other people improve their German? I’m not so confident of that. Fortunately, I have from now to January to prepare for my 45-minute crack at teaching a German as a Second Language class; also, we are learning how to organize a class-hour so as to minimize any unpleasant surprises.

As part of our class, we are watching and analyzing videos of other people teaching. After we watched the first video yesterday, some people in my class were complaining that the teacher in the video didn’t give his students any rules about the grammar topic they were working on (past tense). This was a beginner-level class. They gradually worked their way up to the actual grammar topic via some introductory exercises (that were old-fashioned but surprisingly ingenious), and the way the teachers organized the lesson, the students came up with a simplified version of the grammar rule on their own, based on the earlier exercises. Some of my classmates thought the teacher should have given them the full set of “rules” regarding past tense at this point, and we debated it a bit. As I pointed out (*buffs nails on shirt*), this is not the last time in their German-learning that these students are going to work with past tense, so why overload them with rules? Maybe the teachers wanted them to have more a feel for how past tense works at this point, and then another time they can get additional examples that demonstrate some exceptions to the rule they came up with.

I came up with an analogy while walking to meet my tutee this morning. Learning a foreign language is a bit like learning to ride a bike. You wouldn’t give a 3-year-old a 27-speed mountain bike to start out. Instead, you give him something like this (which is what I saw a small child on this morning and which kick-started this train of thought):



When he gets really good at balancing and is tall enough, you move up to something a little bigger, maybe with training wheels.



It may take a while to build up to that mountain bike, and some people may never make it past 10 gears, but most people can learn to get around on a bike. Same thing with a foreign language. You can’t expect a person to be able to handle a whole pile of rules right away; you have to give him a chance to find his balance and get familiar with this new way of doing things.


Well, duh!
To Lower Costs, Hospitals Try Free Basic Care for Uninsured (NY Times)

Friday, October 20, 2006

The Wheels on the Bus

All I wanted on Wednesday was to get from point A to point C via point B, but that was the point at which Mr. Itinerant Preacher Crazy Man got on the bus. His non-stop diatribe really killed my enjoyment of being squashed between the window on one side and 80 other standing passengers on the other. At least we got the entertainment of catching each others’ eye and cracking up.

Mr. IPC Man was in fine form: (translated from the German) “G is for God. God is great, ja ja. G is also for great. God is good, which also starts with G, ja ja. This is NOT about Hitler!” And so on and so forth.

By the time we got to my stop, I had prayed more in the 6 minutes he was on the bus than in the last 20 years. I was able to tune him out a little by thinking, “Christ Jesus and Baby Jesus! Get me off this bus!”

The next morning, I was forced to partake of a fellow bus rider’s iPod playlist. I didn’t really want to be at a funky disco bus party; I just wanted to sit and be surly as usual.

Thursday afternoon was a bit better, bus-wise. One stop after I got on, a whole kindergarten got on the bus (in Germany, kindergarten = pre-school/daycare and not the grade before 1st grade), so there were about 40 kids, toddlers up to about age 4. Cute! I shared my seat with the two tiniest, and one of them fell asleep on me. I had forgotten how tiny they can be. I actually ended up riding one stop further so I wouldn’t have to trample my way through kinders or wake up the little punkin on my arm.

***

When we moved here, I planned to be done with my master’s degree in 4 years. Looking recently at the list of coursework I had completed and had left to complete, I saw that I would be able to finish all my coursework by the end of next summer semester, right on time. Except I wouldn’t be able to *get* my master’s by then, because you can only apply for admission to candidacy (basically) once all the coursework is complete and grades are turned in; at that point you can write your thesis and take your exams (2 5-hour written exams and 2 1-hour oral exams—ouch!), which you have a total of 12 months to do. So even if I finished all the coursework as early as possible, I would not be able to complete the other requirements by the end of the summer semester.

This put me in a bit of a conundrum. If by conundrum you mean a day-long crying jag. Should I go on bended knee to the department head and try to get her to pull some strings for me? Which meant I would have to cram in the coursework, thesis, exams, and quite probably packing up our household into one semester. Just thinking about it makes me want to die. Or should I drop out?

Finally, I realized that although the MA after my name would be nice, it doesn’t define who I am and wouldn’t guarantee me the job of my dreams later. So I have decided to continue with some of the coursework (dropping one upper-division class, whew!) that would be most useful to me in the case that I had the chance to teach German in the future (a teaching methods course plus student teaching, a course on second language acquisition, and a conversation course). I woke up the next morning feeling a sense of total-body relief (you know it if you’ve felt it). If events conspire to keep us in Germany longer, then I will finish up. If not, then I still haven’t wasted my time here.

***

I needed to get out and stretch my legs today, so fall photos from our village here.

***

Furniture made out of books! Why didn’t I think of that!?

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

How do I love lists? Let me count...

Now that the semester and “real life” have started up again, I am back in list-making mode. You all know that I love me a list, uh huh, but I just realized recently that I am a really sucky list-maker. Here’s an item from my Palm To-Do list: “Start reading for class.” How helpful is that? When can I consider that item completed? 2 pages into the text? 5 pages? It has finally occurred to me that I have to be specific, and I am allowed to break jobs down into their constituent parts, which means more things on the to-do list, but the list gets whittled down faster because I am not waiting for one big thing to be completely finished. So that list item became “Read Chapter 1.” Much better.

John is one of those people who has a routine, and he deals with new things by making a routine out of them. That is *really* hard for me to do. Taking my vitamins? Sporadic. Forcing the poinsettia? Thank the seven dwarfs the days are getting shorter anyway, because I often forget to cover that puppy until it is already dark out. List-making is one way I deal with this; if it is on the list, at least I am reminded of it once a day at a minimum. We’ll see how smoothly this semester goes with my new outlook on lists.


Gnome-fanciers unite!
“Man vows to fight garden gnome arrest threat”

I first read about this in a German magazine!
World’s Ugliest Dog Contest

“In contrast to an earlier finding, it does not appear children who watch a lot of television wind up with behavior problems in school, researchers reported Monday.”

Monday, October 16, 2006

Christmas in October

Germans already have Fasching/Carnival for their big dress-up holiday, so they don’t really do Halloween except for the occasional costume party for adults here or there. That would explain why the xmas cookies and candy are already on the shelves at the grocery store—there aren’t any buffer holidays like Halloween or Thanksgiving (in September in Germany) to slow down the train-wreck of xmas advertising.

Personally, it doesn’t matter to me what time of year it is, any time is good for humming xmas songs. I like the tacky songs, while John is more a religious-carol-type guy. I don’t think my love of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" is going to jinx our relationship, but it does put a cramp in our holiday music buying.

Last year in December, I went into a Starbucks for the first and only time—a classmate invited me, I swear!—and not only did I drink a large cup of their coffee, I also bought a CD of xmas music. I felt my soul shrivel even smaller than usual on that day, but the CD turned out to be not quite what I was looking for, so that made me feel better. Here’s what I got:

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Sleigh Full of Songs
1. I Like a Sleighride (Jingle Bells), Peggy Lee
2. Deck the Halls, Nat King Cole
3. Winter Wonderland, Dean Martin
4. The Christmas Waltz, Nancy Wilson
5. Do You Hear What I Hear?, Bing Crosby
6. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Aimee Mann
7. 2000 Miles, Holly Cole
8. The Little Drummer Boy, Lou Rawls
9. Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town, Lena Horne
10. Merry Christmas, Baby, Charles Brown
11. Silver Bells, Wayne Newton
12. O Come All Ye Faithful, Ella Fitzgerald
13. Peace on Earth / The Little Drummer Boy, David Bowie & Bing Crosby

I realize that practically every recording artist prior to 1980 recorded at least one xmas song—my mom had complete albums of xmas music by Elvis and Jim Neighbors--but I’m not too keen on some of the artist/song combinations on my Starbucks album. In theory, I find it awesome that David Bowie and Bing Crosby did a duet, but in *practice*? Meh.

So if I were to compile a perfect xmas album—and this might be perfectly within my means via the magic of the Internet—here is what I would require, but not by any particular artist (I find that generic is usually better):

Sleigh Ride
We Wish You a Merry Christmas
Up on the House-Top
Jolly Old Saint Nicholas
All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth
Jingle Bells
Jingle-Bell Rock
Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland
Let it Snow
Silver Bells
Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town
Frosty
Rudolph
Blue Christmas
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

Any additions? n.B. This is the camp-only list. Non-campy songs should go to John.

Speaking of xmas, has anyone successfully "forced" a poinsettia? Mine is 2 or 3 years old, and this year I am covering it with a black trash bag 6 pm to 8 am. After 3 weeks of this, one leaf looks a little blotchily red; the only other impact I can discern is that other leaves are turning yellow and dropping off. I don’t know if that might be due to changes in watering patterns after I brought it inside, being enclosed in plastic half the day, or being man-handled into the bag twice a day. Otherwise it looks mostly healthy (once I cut off a branch that had some kind of boils on its bark). According to the web site I linked to above, the whole process can take about 8 weeks; I’ll keep you posted.

New to Nee

I come across a lot of interesting things via my Internet reading, but I am loathe to forward them via email, because it seems like the modern version of my grandmother the bag lady clipping and mailing bits out of the newspaper. But since I have a blog, where people can decide for themselves whether they want to follow a link, I can put up items of interest whenever I like. Ha ha ha!

John is the real debater in our family. He can formulate a position and make logical arguments, and he doesn't get all worked up the way I do usually (depending on the topic and the other person). So for now, I will put up links with a short bit from the text itself, and maybe a quick explanation in case the topic is more controversial, and save the personal commentary.

My first article is from the New York Times (you probably have to be registered to read, but it is free--I've used it for about 5 years, no prob):

Married couples, whose numbers have been declining for decades as a proportion of American households, have finally slipped into a minority, according to an analysis of new census figures by The New York Times.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Halloween, part 3

I think I’ve already mentioned that Hannah and I wanted to make a Halloween version of a gingerbread house since we will be in Texas at xmas-time this year. Yesterday we got busy and put one together. (1)

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Here are our building blocks. I made the dough from scratch out of an xmas-themed German cookbook; Hannah designed the house, and I made a pattern for cutting out the pieces. Then I whipped up some “mortar” made of egg whites and powdered sugar.

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I can’t remember if this is before or after the house fell apart on us. I think it is the first assembly. Here’s a tip, if you should ever want to build your own g-bread house: let the walls set before putting on the roof—it is surprisingly heavy and will knock the whole structure down if the mortar is still wet.

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Here is a front view of the finished product. Note how the edges of the walls curved while baking, so we had to fill in the gaps with lots of mortar and candy, “so the rats can’t get in,” said Hannah. Here’s another tip: be careful while adding the baking powder, or the walls will end up much puffier and rounded than you intended.

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Here is a back view. Hannah didn’t really like the sugar-egg glue, so she pulled apart some Brach’s Halloween candies and used those to attach additional decorations onto the back wall since it was looking a little bare.

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This morning Hannah got out some marzipan and sculpted a witch and a broom out of it. She got them to stick to the front of the house by impaling them on a toothpick. Gruesome!

(1) John is so sweet. He thought it was ingenious and original to come up with a Halloween version of the xmas favorite, but I had to disabuse him of that idea. A google search came up with 434,000 hits for "Halloween gingerbread house" and 125,000 hits "+kit". At least I didn’t try to market the idea, because some of the kits are really cool.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Nee: Entertaining and Informing Since 2004

I have a bunch of photos I wanted to put up, so consider this post educational.

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This scary item is Mortadella sausage for children. See how the package looks all cute and slightly appetizing, while the reality makes you glad it is going to be smothered in ketchup and covered with bread? Hannah specifically asked for this lunch meat.

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To the uninitiated, this may just look like a bucket of water. But for your information, it is the amount of water that comes out of 1 week's worth of whites and underwear in our condensation dryer.

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(Sorry for the blur.) This is the one and only bud to form this year on the xmas cactus I bought last winter. I had been watching it diligently for about a week, giving the plant plenty of water and verbal encouragement, but one morning I found the bud lying in the pot. I don't know if it dropped or if a cat had anything to do with its untimely removal, but I was slightly heartbroken. The other xmas cactus has bloomed regularly ever since I got it (hell, it has flowers and buds on it right now), but I had high hopes for new hot-pink flowers.

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Halloween, Part 1. Hannah was in charge of drawing on the jack-o-lantern's face. We are not going to carve it until closer to the 31st, because I hate having a pumpkin deflate before the big day. Doesn't this guy look dapper? I think he just needs a beret and a cigarette in one of those long holders.

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Halloween, Part 2. The other side of the pumpkin is a bit abraded, probably from lying on the ground, so Hannah couldn't make face 2 opposite face 1. This is a girl face (note the long hair), but to me, it still looks like a clown.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Ding Dong, The Paper's Dead

So I turned in my paper yesterday. It's basically garbage, but at least it is gone. I got off the bus to go to my department 25 minutes after the last page came off the printer, and things I meant to put in the paper started popping in my head. Also, a better conclusion. Also, a better section on paranoia. At this point, I will take a C and a note to never enter his classroom again. That is how sick of it I am.

On the plus side, I found this lovely line in Underworld that just really clicked in my brain:
...and he bucketed up to the bar car, filled with people who more or less resembled Charlie, give or take a few years and a few gray hairs and the details of their evilest dreams.

Even after reading it several times, it gives me a shiver.

My daughter has a mouth on her that would please my mother to no end (her and that "mother's curse" and all). I rubbed Hannah's cheek, and she claimed I scratched her with my "old lady skin". It's not that bad, yet! So now I feel no compunctions against bringing up her flabby armpits and stinky feet. Take that, young one!

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

You asked for it!

I hadn’t realized how much like a transsexual I was starting to look until I tried to take a hair photo this morning. Yikes! The photo below is the best out of about 5 or 6 attempts, sadly enough.

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And I had been thinking about posting a grey update anyway, so here is the new photo, taken in natural light in the sunroom:

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And here is a photo from almost exactly a year ago:

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I knew the shorter hair would show up the grey, but it still makes me a little sad to see how *mature* I look. *sigh*

Monday, October 09, 2006

15 minutes

That's how long I have until John and Hannah get home and want some dinner! So I must blog fast-ly and furious-ly (but not like that crappy Vin Diesel movie *shudder*).

I am still writing on my paper. I know. Don't say it. I am plugging along with an outline and everything. I have a sneaking suspicion the whole thing might be garbage, but it's too late now!

Hannah and I want to make a gingerbread house, Halloween style, but one of the main ingredients is only available at the whole foods store. Despite that setback, we forged on with making Halloween cookies!

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Hannah was actually only home for mixing the dough and cutting out one batch of pumpkins, but I put her to work frosting the un-candied cookies the next day:

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She's got to earn that allowance somehow! (Wow--how exclamation-mark heavy can this post get?)

I have been very dissatisfied with my hair lately. It is tiresome always picking up one-and-a-half foot long hairs that I've shed, so in the grand tradition of my grandmother, I picked up a pair of scissors this morning and gave my hair a good whack. Goodbye, hair! It turned out pretty good for being self cut; even John was impressed. Now if I can just keep it out of my eyes...

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Navel: It's What's for Gazing

I realized last night as I couldn't sleep that my recent "Shame" posts are what is known as the opposite of helpful. All this online self-flagellation is not actually helping me to write; it's just providing a distraction that I had mentally labeled as acceptable.

John needed to work on the computer this morning, which sent me to the table with paper and pencil, and I actually got a lot done. Today I feel like I'm in a better place mentally for working, so that's what I am aiming for: steady progress. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

The Shame Game--Tuesday, Part 3

(What a waste of a 400th post, eh?)

I make a little headway on my paper, then I flounder a bit. And I hate the whole thing.

I would rather be watching movies with Hannah (and I did stop to watch part of a Jimmy Neutron movie--the shame!), but instead I flail about on my paper, then take a break to help Hannah with her tooth-removal efforts, or get a snack, or more coffee, or go to the bathroom.

John is working like a fiend upstairs, and I...mmm...not so much. Rats.

The Shame Game--Tuesday, Part 2

It's 2:30. I have almost 4 pages of paper, plus bibliography, plus a couple more pages of hand-written graphs that won't be included with the paper, so why the hell did I do them after all?

John is diligently plugging away on his reading.

Since I last checked in, I have fed Hannah lunch, ate an apple and some peanut butter, taken a shower, made more coffee, washed a load of towels (in the dryer), and checked out Hannah's Polly Pocket plane that she made herself. And written a bit on my paper, but probably not enough to finish the goddamned thing today.

Feeling frustrated and ready to give up. Why did I think a paper about a book *827* pages long was a good idea?!

The Shame Game, Tuesday--Part 1

So here we are again. It is 11:30, and I am just getting started. I slept in, despite John's attempts to boot me out of bed starting at 9. I got Hannah up, started reading my email, cooked breakfast, finished reading email, and now I am going to work on my paper.

It has been raining for 2 days, and Hannah has a mild cold, and John is leaving for a conference on Thursday, so he has a bunch of reading and preparing to do for his presentation at said conference. I put Hannah on the couch and turned on the tv. We usually try to limit her tv intake, but today I will just add that to the shame list.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Shame Me Once...

John and Hannah got home, so we fixed a quick salad dinner, and now I'm back to looking at what I was doing when they got here.

I'm at the bottom of page 3, plus some notes on page 4. I had already abandoned the computer for my notebook and novel before the monkeys got home, and I think that's what I'll continue to work on this evening, but no all-nighter. That is never helpful.

I will check in tomorrow morning when I get rolling.

Self-Shaming Update

I had to take a quick break to empty the dryer (but not fold the clothes!), so here is the update:

I have another 3 paragraphs or so. In one hour. But considering that the novel I am writing about is 827 pages long, and even with a whole pad of post-its marking pages in the novel itself and about 15 pages of notes, it can sometimes be difficult to find what I am looking for. But the ideas are there. An outline would be nice, but I don't know if I am that far.

Onward and upward!

Oh! The Shame!

My paper is still not done. I wrote my professor over the weekend and told him I would turn it in today, but it is 4:30, and I barely have 2 pages. Tomorrow is a national holiday, so the department won't be open, but that is a lame excuse for putting off finishing the damn thing.

John has been really supportive and tries to give me positive reinforcement, but it is obviously not working. He and Hannah went into town to run some errands and see a movie (and give me uninterrupted time to work), but I am such a jerk, I am not getting much done.

So! I am going to have to take up the slack and shame myself into working. Here, for all the internet to read and tsk tsk at me. Feel free to tsk tsk in the comments, or just aloud when you read this. I will report back regularly today as I work.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Excuses, excuses

1. Check out Hannah's new video.

2. No new blog-love for a few days until I finish my literature paper. Being the smug smart-ass that I am, I started too late, and now am both super-late and stuck.

3. Hannah has no school on Monday or Tuesday (Reunification Day), so maybe there will be hijinks to report on.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Out of the Mouth of my Babe

"I think I got rid of the toe fairy. First she was in my toe, then I accidentally shook her out in my shoe, then she climbed up in my sock, but there was sweat in there and not-so-good-smelliness, and she cracked." (accompanied by a finger across the throat)

"The toe fairy has 50 daughters"--she had one a year starting at age 50, according to Hannah, so more toe fairies might move in later.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

In Germany.1 (a series)

In Germany, there is no grape jelly, or corn tortillas, or pecans.

We can buy plum jelly, flour torts, and walnuts, which are all fine in their own right, but it’s just not the same.

Also, no Kraft Mac n Cheese.

Cookie Crisp—yes.

Rotel—no.

Peanut butter—yes.

Molasses—no.

As you can guess, we have a much healthier diet than when we lived in Texas, mostly due to the lack of Tex-Mex ingredients.

Of course, German cuisine is not renowned for its low-fat-ness (cf. 800-ish varieties of sausage, about 20 varieties of fried pork, i.e. Schnitzel, and countless brands of beer), but we don’t actually cook German at home much, so it balances out.

This is not a cry for people to mail us American food—far from it. That shit is heavy (i.e., expensive to mail), and we can always put our most brazen face forward and ask our neighbors who work on the Am. military base to pick us up a few things at the commissary. We just don’t, so that is our own problem.

No, this is just a small whine about the junky junk-food that we love and miss and will whole-heartedly embrace when we are back in the States.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Another tacky Nee quote

"If we're made in God's image, he could really use an Epilady."

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Moody Mom

I had forgotten that Depressive Irritable Nee tends to accompany Super-Manic Nee. They’re kind of like conjoined twins. My mood was not helped today by losing a piece of paper from our bank that I kind of needed. I was able to order a new one, but I didn’t until I had torn apart the study looking for it. That and a sense of not-accomplishing-anything-useful today and some serious absent-mindedness have put me in a foul mood. Fortunately, I can remedy it somewhat by cranking Smashing Pumpkins in the kitchen while I cook dinner and drink mint tea. Droning, loud, noisy music makes me happy.

I am in such a bad mood that I am throwing away my lists, because they just make it worse. Usually they help me get a grip, but I just might lose it if I have to look at another one.

While I was cutting Hannah’s hair, she was already formulating plans for using it. First she tried to talk her dad into using a chainsaw to cut some small pieces off the walking stick he is carving.

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Once she realized that wasn’t going to happen, she took matters into her own hands. She found some cardboard—crap! I meant to take that to the recycling center today—to fashion a handle out of, a chunk of her own (pre-cut) hair, some tape, and presto! She has a paintbrush. Here is the first artwork it has produced.

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Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Titleless

One big, blinking clue that something has gone south re: my IUD (the kind plus hormones) is the return of Super-Manic Nee (TM). To wit, once I was able to sit still today, I could not shut up. When there’s been no one to talk to, I’ve written blog posts and revised on a story. And even worked on my paper, which I’ve otherwise been aggressively avoiding.

Hannah has been watching too much Ren and Stimpy lately. She was talking about the episode where Ren loses all his teeth and the Tooth Beaver comes and gnaws on his nerve endings. She somehow used this as the basis for assuming the existence of the Toe Fairy, who causes toe pain. What happens is that if I clip Hannah’s toenails too short, the toe fairy can climb in there “easierlier” and eat the stuff from under your toenail. I am much too dumb to make this stuff up myself, you know.

Ironically, Hannah lost a tooth just a couple of days after this statement. She asked me straight out for her buck, because she knows “all about the tooth fairy.” And she vows that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are next. So I handed her a buck in change, and she handed me her tooth. But when I reached out to drop the tooth in the trash, she swapped it back. She didn’t like the idea of her *medical waste* going in the garbage. So she’s saving it for John’s dad. bwa ha ha ha! (1)

(1) John’s dad is an unreformed pack rat and sentimentalist. In a box he gave us from his garage, I found John’s *umbilical cord* and his brother’s *baby teeth*. I don’t think I will ever forgive John’s dad for that, but it makes me indescribably happy to think that Hannah will be returning the favor for me.

Like any conscientious student, Hannah has broken in her new notebooks by defacing the illustrations in them. In the people-drawings, this entails the adding of antennae, glasses, and beards—pretty straightforward stuff. (2) But she had to get a bit more creative when it came to the handout with the alpacas on it. Her solution was take a cute little alpaca about like this:




and draw a few curlicues around its face, then add a shiny necklace, a cursive version of this:



The result was pimptastic! (But difficult to photograph, hence the approximation.)

(2) She just showed me an “embellishment” that was the special eye-gear and breathing apparatus for an alien, and then proceeded to tell me the alien’s life story. I told her to just get on with her math homework.

Monday, September 18, 2006

The Many Faces of Hannah

Hannah's first day of school was today, and boy, did her classmates get a surprise! See if you can spot the difference:

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And the before photo:

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Sunday, September 17, 2006

How do I love thee, Consumerism?

Hannah’s head is full of the glamours of shopping these days. Which is funny, because when I take her shopping—for instance, for school clothes—she acts like I have devised a new method of torture involving a bank card and a department store.

I blame her infatuation on the Barbie web site. Most of the games and video clips revolve around malls and shopping. *gag* I try to point out the vapidity of the whole set-up, but she won’t hear a word against her beloved Barbie overlord web site.

But she also has a friend whose family is in a much higher income-tax bracket than us, and who have a correspondingly more friendly attitude to consumerism. I myself am not completely opposed to buying things, but

1. we live in a smallish apartment that would fill up quickly,
and 2. I firmly believe in living within your means.

Besides, past evidence has shown that Hannah loves and plays with new toys for about 2 days before they are relegated to the toy heap under her play-bed. So it seems silly to keep adding to the heap, especially since I’m the only one who ever tackles the heap to prevent it from taking over her whole room.

That being said, I like to see the kinds of things that are available to buy, or that other people have bought. For instance, I saw a woman wearing sandals with a spring where the heel would normally be. *A spring.* Considering the oddly stiff way she was walking, I don’t think the spring was really adding to the comfort-level and wearability of the sandals.

I’m sure that old-school Adidas wouldn’t have those issues, but the pair I saw in Kermit-green with Mr. The Frog himself on them might drive the wearer mad or temporarily blind. When looking for the above link, I discovered that they also sell a Miss Piggy version. I like my Muppets, the seven dwarves know, but that is just going too far.

The one item I coveted desperately, but that disappeared from the window display by the following week, was a set of yard-gnome candles. One was pink and the other apple-green. They were full-sized, so about 10 inches tall. If anyone spots a yard-gnome cookie jar, let me know, because that would satisfy two of my shopping cravings in one go.

Addendum to "Our Girl"

I knew there was at least one other thing I wanted to add to my last post, but I was starting to get a little frayed around the edges and didn't manage to think of it that night. In the meanwhile, I found some notes I had jotted down, and it has all come back to me.

When we were at Legoland, there was a room with tables covered in Legos for their visitors' building pleasure. John started building a car. *ho hum* I started building a house. *thunk* (the sound a someone falling unconscious from dullness) Hannah built a phone booth. With 2 phones, so it was more like a call center.

Also at Legoland, Hannah attracted the stares of the people we were walking behind when she described how she wanted to live in a mansion when she grows up. A mansion set in the middle of a shopping center just for her. *Where did I go wrong as a mother?* Her idea of a good job that would fund all of this was President of the United States. I had to disabuse her of that notion quickly. President pays ok, but not mansion-buying ok.

Hannah and her friend, the cooking duo, found the recipe for "spice soup" they had previously concocted and decided to have another go at it. Except this time they thought it would make a good base for bread. Not wanting to let them loose with flour in my kitchen, I agreed to come help them make pancakes instead. They turned out a little crepe-y, but still surprisingly tasty, considering their origins. They were like a savory version of pancakes, or like seasoned naan bread (Indian). Hannah even ate the leftovers for a couple of breakfasts, which she is otherwise morally opposed to. Now I just have to figure out a way to get her excited about cooking what *we* want to eat, and I can resign from my post as chief cook.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Our Girl

... is a very, very, very weird girl. In the car on the way to Sweden, she got to thinking about Harry Potter. She says his uncle and aunt should be named Vermin and Clunia (which is an Asian clown, according to her). Perhaps.

She is a bit paranoid these days about bees and wasps, not because *I* was stung by one, but because she thinks she herself has been “pinched” or “bitten” by one a couple of times now. I haven’t noticed any giant red boils on her anywhere, so I doubt it. A few days ago she managed to use a Pringles can to catch a wasp that was in her room. I told her to put it on the balcony, and I would let it out later after it had calmed down (not wanting another sting myself). Except I forgot. The next day there was a slightly dead wasp in the Pringles can. Despite her fear of living wasps, she felt nothing but pity for the dead one. Hence the wasp grave on our balcony.

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Sometimes I feel like I just can’t win with Hannah. In the course of cleaning her room (which is finally done, thank the seven dwarves), Hannah has been reintroduced to the large number and variety of her toys. She dug right into the Polly Pockets and came up with new and glamorous sartorial choices for those little blobs of plastic and rubber. She held one of her concoctions up and asked what I thought. “Pretty.” She thought Polly looked more like a homeless child.

John has been reading Hannah The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy at bedtime. I think Zaphod Beeblebrox is her favorite character. Every time some alien shows up unannounced, which happens fairly often, she says, “Zaphod Beeblebrox?” before he can finish the sentence. This may explain a lot about her in the future.

Cookie Cookie Cookie Starts with C

I think I poked fun at the tea-set-shaped cookie cutters before, but I bought them anyway.

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To complement them, zoo animals, including a lion, a hippo, a moose, a camel, an elephant, and a giraffe. We only realized we were out of powdered sugar for glaze when the second batch was already in the oven, so we had to make do with some disturbingly shiny sprinkles.

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Speaking of moose, there were signs on all the roads in southern Sweden to watch out for moose. I am kicking myself that I didn't get a photo, but they are all over the Internet. Anyhoo, rather than read my rather boring book on the drive home, I stared into the woods, trying to spot a moose. At one point, I saw an animal that was noticeably smaller than a moose, but I thought it might be a baby moose and was starting to get excited. Until I realized that it was a dark grey standard poodle. Accompanying its owner, who was wearing hunting gear. A poodle as a hunting dog??? Swedes are weird.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I Love My Husband

... except when I want to throttle him. This morning I cleaned the kitchen--vacuumed and mopped, and scrubbed the fronts of all the cabinets. I don't know what he was off doing, but it didn't make it onto his radar. After Hannah and I had made cookies this afternoon, I was lamenting the state of my freshly mopped floor.

John: "You mopped this morning?"
Me: "Yes."
John: "I was wishing the floor would get mopped."
Me: bust out laughing

He's lucky I have the sense of humor I do, or he would have been dead meat. I guess my response offset my super-bitchy attitude this morning. I don't do mornings, and John was being all chipper and awake, and he expected me to be the same, and that just chapped my ass.

I have a paper to write by the end of the month--procrastination, thy name is Nee--but I have been too busy to work on it much. I have been engaged in the domestic equivalent of putting a pillow over my head and humming loudly. I've been quilting, balancing our bank account, going to the library, cleaning--oh dear dwarfs, Hannah's room was on the verge of being condemned; I found a half-eaten marshmallow cookie while cleaning in there. Hannah has been fussed at quite a bit today, and she has commanded me to report that she called herself a pile of doo-doo. I only told her that she was just getting herself deeper into the doo-doo with her bad attitude and poor hygiene, not that she actually *was* doo-doo. Just want everyone to be clear on that.

I've been kicking around on one of my short stories, with a little success, but I doubt it will be in form to send to any editors before school starts in about a month. Maybe I will have a flash of inspiration, but it is more likely to be a flash of annoyance.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Rest of the (Vacation) Story

Even though I’ve been humming The 12 Days of Christmas since the first day of our vacation, I don’t think I’m going to make it through all 11 Days of Vacation, so here is the run-down of what’s left.

On day 4, we toured an old copper mine (which was colder than a well-digger’s butt). John and Hannah panned for gold afterward and came up with about 9 flakes total. Hannah had been expecting the amounts to come in clump-size, but she didn’t seem too disappointed with her take.

On day 5, we stayed close to the cottage. In the morning, we went for a very chilly row around the lake. I let John do all the rowing, because that’s the kind of wife I am. Then he and Hannah took a dip in the lake while I went to work on the laundry. Of course Hannah caught a bad cold, but it only lasted a couple of days. Later, Hannah and John played in the yard, using the clothes I had put out on the line as a mid-line for various throwing games (frisbee, some balls they found in the storeroom). In the afternoon we took a long, muddy walk.
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On day 6, we drove into Vetlanda (the closest town and the county seat, about 10 miles from our cottage) to get more groceries and shop for books and videos and a new fall jacket for Hannah. I think Hannah finally figured out how to use the cable receiver in the cottage on this day, so we got a healthy dose of tv, too.
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On day 7, we drove to Astrid Lindgren’s World in Vimmerby. It was so charming. Imagine: a theme park based on books. There were no rides, just settings based on AL’s stories. Different shows were performed with characters from the stories, and most of the ones we saw were fairly interactive, getting kids to come up on the set and participate. On the way home, we stopped at a village that was the basis for the setting of The Children of Noisy Village. We’re almost positive it was used in the movie version as well.
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We also stopped at the wooden town of Eksjö. John was much more excited to be there than we were.

On day 8, we hung around the cottage some more. We went down to the lake, and Hannah tried her hand at fishing for the first time. We cooked wieners over a campfire, then John and Hannah got in the boat to fish some more. I think they had a good time, but Hannah was so tired when they got back that she had a bit of a meltdown when it was time to throw back the two small fish they had caught.
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On day 9, we visited a few things that lay on the road between our cottage and Vetlanda (a rune stone, a ruined fortress), then we ran a few errands before heading back to start cleaning (since we were leaving first thing the next morning). John took off for a few hours to visit a nearby village where some of his ancestors emigrated from, but Hannah wanted to veg out and not visit any more old places, and I like to pack in peace, so the two of us stayed home.
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On day 10, we headed out for Denmark. I think we made 3 “detours” on the way, so I was a bit tired and cranky by the time we got to our room for the night. John felt that if we were going to “be in the neighborhood”, we ought to see the historical sites in the area. Unfortunately, northern Europe has a 2000-year-old history, so you can’t spit without hitting a historical site of some sort around here. Even worse, something may have happened there, but there is not necessarily any mark left of it; or the event is legendary, and the site is only a best guess based on the information in the legend. John really gets off to all that, but it tends to make me cranky-pants. I want to see the real thing, not a reproduction or a guess.

While looking for one such reproduction, we found ourselves in the middle of a hail storm. And if we had had an umbrella with us, John would have tried to leave the car to get up close to the site. In-sane!

The Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark, was pretty cool. Even Hannah enjoyed herself for the most part, except that we couldn’t buy her an ice cream because we hadn’t found an ATM yet.
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On day 11, we hit Legoland. Hannah totally dug the rides, none of which were especially scary or large. John and I liked the models: different European cities and famous buildings made out of Legos.
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On day 12, we drove home. It only took us about 2 hours to drive across half the length of Denmark, but then we stopped in Germany to visit another Viking museum. That was a 4-hour stop-over. In theory everything was interesting, but John was in full read-every-placard mode, and Hannah’s and my cup of patience was not exactly overflowing. As Hannah said, her favorite place in the world is our town, our village, our house, her bed, and she wanted to get there as quickly as possible. We made it home at 10 pm that night.

In the meanwhile, we have been recuperating and gearing up for Hannah to start back to school in a week.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

On the third day of vacation,

... my true love gave to me:

6 hours on the road,
a couple of small wrong turns,
lots of rain,
a bizarre detour,
constipation of epic proportions,
and a cabin in the woods on a lake.

John insisted we stop at this place called Inglinge Hög, which is some kind of burial mound plus stones plus ancient Germanic tribal meeting place. Or something. I can’t keep it straight. But as a sign of his incipient madness (more on this around day 9 or 10), he went out in the rain without an umbrella or coat with a hood to hike down a cowpath to find this site *in the rain*. With our digital camera. Hannah and I wisely stayed in the car playing hangman, with words like CRAZY and DAD.

Our cabin was cute and comfortable. This was not your bare bones cabin of the Texas State Park system. This was a cottage, as only Swedes can do. It was basically a home away from home, with linens on the tables, curtains on the windows, pictures on the walls, a fireplace in the living room, and a fully outfitted kitchen (plus washing machine in the store room). We just had to bring sheets and buy groceries, and we were living like kings. Plus we were out in the middle of nowhere, so it was blessedly quiet and peaceful out there. John says that if a moose had just walked past the dining room while he was eating breakfast, the scene would have been perfect.

Day 3 photos on the right.

On the second day of vacation,

... my true love gave to me:

1 ferry ride,
1 German island,
3 Danish islands,
a ride on The Hulk,
2 crappy German clowns,
some bat-shit crazy performance artists in a park,
an ovary in a vice,
and a 10-mile bridge between Denmark and Sweden.

We have an acquaintance in Malmö, Sweden, who generously invited us to lunch on our way through. There was also some kind of big festival in town (where we were going to be staying overnight), so we wandered around for a few hours. Unfortunately, I was hit with *killer cramps from hell* part-way through, so I’m afraid I might not have been the most friendly companion for the half-hour or so until they passed.

During the non-cramping period, we observed some performance artists whose shtick was wild animal noises plus body paint and some kind of “dance.” Their groupie generously gave out CDs of their “performance” to passers-by, which we promptly lost. Later we found ourselves trapped in a tent for a performance by a German clown duo. They were of the non-creepy clown variety, but their show was still pitiful. After each act, one clown would have to indicate that the audience should clap at that point. Even so, there was one man sitting in front of us who laughed like it was his first experience with humor. And at the end, a couple behind us clapped so long, I suspected they might be groupies.

There were also several bands of varying flavors. We wandered through the heavy metal ghetto of the festival, and Hannah pointed out that all the attendees looked like the students at our local high school (which is for students who are not trade-school or college bound).

John and Hannah also availed themselves of the opportunity to ride The Hulk. Considering we had just finished dinner 5 minutes before, there was a surprising lack of barfing. My pictures didn’t come out, which is a shame, because this ride was nothing like the Universal Studios ride. Basically, it was the Spider with this plastic Hulk statue in the center. Hulk smash! And spin!

Day 2 photos on the right.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

On the first day of vacation,

... my true love gave to me:

750 kilometers,
10 hours en route,
50 liters of gas,
2 extra detours,
196 windmills,
2 hot-air balloons,
and a room on the sixth floor of a hostel in Lübeck

John has a great interest in genealogy and has dug up quite a bit of info about his ancestors on his mother’s side. Since we were going to be in the area on the first leg of our trip, we made a detour to Hameln (ever hear of the Pied Piper of Hamelin?—that’s the one) and a village (called Weibeck) just past that where he’s traced at least one ancestor to. Which is when it began to rain. John can be insanely persistent, and he walked around taking pictures in the rain and knocking on doors to ask questions. He actually managed to find someone with the key to the village church so he could look around and take a bunch of photos. I won’t even mention his unfamiliarity with the word “trespassing.”

Hannah occupied herself in the back seat by counting windmills. We saw a few old wooden ones, but she refused to add them to the count. She only wanted the gigantic modern kind. When we stopped for the night at Lübeck, we were within 1 hour of the Baltic. The next day, there were so many windmills that Hannah gave up before she’d really gotten started counting again. But my 2 hot-air balloons counted as 2 windmills each (in Hannah’s estimation), so we “officially” made 200.

Links to our vacation photos on the right.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006


I know I bid you all adieu earlier, but I must impose on you for a little sympathy before I leave on vacation. Ignoring for the moment the ugliness of my feet and the weird tan lines (thanks to my wearing mary janes all summer), check out my pinky toe. That's what happens when you don't see a wasp on your kitchen floor while rinsing some dishes and happen to step on it. It sucks! Fortunately, I still had some Adolph's meat tenderizer, so I was able to make a paste out of it, but it didn't seem to help. Oh well, it'll be better in the morning, I hope. Posted by Picasa

Housekeeping

1. I did not mean to imply in my last post that MiddleSis is flying to Germany for her anniversary. I only meant that her *approaching* anniversary was a reminder to me to get the lead out with respect to the QUILT (I left out the L in the last post, too *facepalm*), because I want to finish before xmas.

2. It has been pretty quiet around here recently, hence the lack of posting. Sitting in the easy chair quilting and quilting and quilting is not really the stuff of epic literature, so I decided to give you a break on that. Also, the cold and wet have not been conducive to fun and games. But we did manage to get out during a break in the weather on a couple of days, and I have put shiny new links up on the right under Yahoo albums for your viewing enjoyment. I have also added a few new Hannah photos to my Flickr account.

3. I’m afraid the online photos are going to have to hold you until we get back from vacation on Sept. 4 or 5. We are driving up through northern Germany, over Denmark, and into Sweden, departing tomorrow morning.

Keep cool, and I’ll see you back here in a week-and-a-half.

Nee

Friday, August 18, 2006

Blah and Blech and Ptooey!

My sister is coming up on her 10th anniversary this week. I finally dug out the quit I started as a *cough* wedding present and finished the top. I had to use the tiny Singer sewing machine my LMIL sent Hannah for her birthday to put the border on, and it worked like a charm. Putting the back on has been somewhat of a challenge, though. First I tried spreading everything out on the floor, but I just couldn’t get it to lie smooth. It was a little easier to layer the parts on our rectangular table with the sides hanging over the edges. I followed the directions in the Reader’s Digest Complete Guide to Needlework (my grandmother swears it is too hard to learn from other people and gave me this extensive book) and started basting the layers together. (Note to LMIL: did you really just pin your quilts together while you were quilting on them? John says yes.) Somehow I neglected to notice that the batting didn’t reach to the edge of one side until I had already put in about 50 rows of basting. Breaking my own personal rule, I did *not* rip out all that basting and fix it properly. I cut an extra piece of batting and added it to the edge. Which is when I also noticed that I had got the back on at an angle. Fuck! I know my (middle) sister doesn’t read this blog (LilSis--shhhh!), so maybe she’ll be so stunned by the lateness of this gift that she won’t notice the incompetence in making it. *sigh*

WesTexGirl was recently talking about her (perceived) lack of skills in the area of comforting people who have gone through a loss. I can’t recall that this is an experience that we have gone through together, so I can’t comment on her performance, but I really can’t imagine her being as deficient as she seems to think. On the other hand, I seem to be extraordinarily skilled at saying exactly the wrong thing in all situations. Lots of families are aware of inherited traits that they have to remain vigilant about, like diabetes or addiction. In my family it is assholery. I don’t think I have inherited the selfish-type of assholery, but I am afraid that I haven’t completely dodged the curse, either. Yesterday I was on the phone with someone who I had managed to upset via email (gah! the bane of my existence), and as I was trying to soothe that person, who burst into tears midway through the call (which was due to a bunch of personal factors and not just due to me (I hope)), Hannah started crying because she was having troubles with her tiny sewing machine (see above). It was definitely a Calgon-take-me-away type moment. I’m afraid I didn’t cover myself in glory, but I didn’t chew off anyone’s head either, so it was a start.

Today I had to return some library books, and they have a nifty new machine that scans the books as you return them and prints you a receipt. High-tech, eh? Except it didn’t print one of the books I returned. Someone at the front desk went into the room to look for the book and couldn’t find it, so I said maybe I left it in my backpack (in the lockers downstairs). Nope, not there either. So I am probably going to have to go back next week and find it on the shelf and get them to turn it in properly so I don’t get fined eventually (the librarian renewed it for me, just in case).

And to top it all off, I think my deodorant has quit working.

This complaining has been brought to you by the letter B and the number 12.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Happy Birthday to John! He’s very reluctantly turning 33. (Kicking and screaming is more like it.)

. . .

Recently, John said something was crap. Hannah’s response?

“Don’t say it; just do it.”

. . .

I got Hannah another puberty book about the differences between boys and girls, and she is *using it against me.* She brought it to me while I was working on the computer and forced me to read the paragraph on privacy and unwanted touching. She interpreted that to mean I must ask before hugging or kissing her. That means no more bedtime forehead smooches. And no more cheek nibbling. And no more squeezy hugs. Actually, I kind of see her point.

. . .

Hannah’s friend spent the night on Friday, so they pulled out the hide-a-bed to sleep on. True to form, Hannah has insisted on leaving the couch in bed-form. Last night she built a “cave” out of pillows and a thick comforter to sleep inside of. She was trying to figure out how she could get in since she had all the sides pretty well sealed. She liked my suggestion but couldn’t find a rope or a flashlight.

Me: “Did you set your anti-bear traps? This is bear country, you know.”

H: “Can you please be more grown-up?”

. . .

This morning Hannah was crawling into the cave while screeching and growling.

Me: “I hope you’re being eaten by a bear in that cave.”

H: “No, the bear is I!”

. . .

I wish I was wearing a hidden mic these days, because Hannah is always saying something bizarre, and I don’t always manage to write it down. Mostly she is being sarcastic and back-talking, which will probably delight my mother to no end, but we have been very careful to call her on it and tell her that she has one warning, and then there will be a specific punishment. She has gotten a little better about self-policing. And she is still a bad-language reminder.

Me: “You’ve just sliced off my ass with that sword!”

Hannah: “Don’t say the A-S-S word!”