Friday, September 22, 2006
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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:
And the before photo:
And the before photo:
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 Barbieoverlord 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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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!”
. . .
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!”
Saturday, August 12, 2006
The B-U-S
July was a scorcher around here, but as soon as I turned the calendar to August, Mother Nature did a 180. It’s been raining off and on since then, and it has been much cooler than your normal August. Today the high was in the 60s, and the overnight low is supposed to be about 50. One day last week, it even felt suspiciously fall-like, with a crisp breeze thrown in for good measure. One of John’s co-workers mentioned it, then I repeated the sentiment later that afternoon. His response? “La-la-la-la-la!” with his hands over his ears. He’s really hoping it will heat up again before we get to Sweden, but as my relatives say, you can shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which one fills up faster. John hates that saying.
Now that school is out, I haven’t been on the bus all that much, but I’ve finally managed to round up all the bits of paper I jotted my horror onto, so now I can share them with you.
[Ok, this was totally crappy, so I put it out of my misery.]
I have a cold, so cobbling these bits together into one post is about the most I can manage for now. Sorry.
Now that school is out, I haven’t been on the bus all that much, but I’ve finally managed to round up all the bits of paper I jotted my horror onto, so now I can share them with you.
[Ok, this was totally crappy, so I put it out of my misery.]
I have a cold, so cobbling these bits together into one post is about the most I can manage for now. Sorry.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Where are my bon-bons and stories?
Being on summer vacation is kind of weird. I have nothing in particular to do, and all the time in the world to do it. So I have been going through my back-list of things I wanted to do during the semester (or that at least sounded like fun at the time), but didn’t have time for.
I started with my zombie-snails project. Hannah and I made salt dough, which I then transformed into zombie snails, thanks to my collection of escargot shells. We painted a background in grays (Hannah made a bright-colored splatter painting, but I told her I didn’t think it had quite the gruesome effect we were going for, so now it is up on the kitchen cabinet), which I put into a shoebox to house our diorama of doom. Then we whipped up some cornstarch slime, added a bit of fluorescent green food color, and Hannah took on the job of sliming up the zombies. It turned out quite well, eh?
Then Hannah decided to make a video, which you can check out on her ad blog here.
To stave off impending boredom, Hannah got into the Halloween make-up again.
Doesn’t she look a bit like this character from a German children’s book?
I’ve gotten a lot of cleaning done, but it is not as fun as it sounds, because as soon as I finish, I have to start over again.
I also pulled out a sewing project that has been hanging over my head for *cough* more than 10 years. But I have a strong incentive to finish it before xmas, so I will keep you posted on that.
John bought me a tin whistle from the local Irish shop for my birthday (on my request), and I pulled it out after John and Hannah tried to learn how to play her recorder. I figured that a tin whistle would be much simpler to play than my clarinet, but I found the directions too frustrating. Practicing my clarinet would require more of my time, since I would have to build up my embouchure again, but I might try it anyway. My niece is going to start playing the clarinet this school year, so I’ve been thinking about playing more than usual.
I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump, as evidenced in my writing blog, but I hope to find a way around that soon.
We even went to the museum yesterday. They have an exhibit until the end of the month on an early culture around the Alps that built their houses on stilts right on the edge of lakes and rivers. John got there first, and we caught up with him at the exhibit, after we had been through the rest of the museum. Hannah is still not the most patient museum-guest, but there wasn’t too much I wanted to look at in detail, so I went along with the whirlwind tour. John read *every single display* in the exhibit, so he was there much longer than we were. But since we had traveled there separately, it wasn’t a big deal. We came home and made a knock-off recipe of Cinnabon rolls, so if you don’t hear from us over the next few days, we have probably suffered death by cinnamon roll.
John is counting down the days until our Swedish vacation. We’re leaving 2 weeks from tomorrow, so I don’t have to start freaking out or list-making for at least another week. *g*
I started with my zombie-snails project. Hannah and I made salt dough, which I then transformed into zombie snails, thanks to my collection of escargot shells. We painted a background in grays (Hannah made a bright-colored splatter painting, but I told her I didn’t think it had quite the gruesome effect we were going for, so now it is up on the kitchen cabinet), which I put into a shoebox to house our diorama of doom. Then we whipped up some cornstarch slime, added a bit of fluorescent green food color, and Hannah took on the job of sliming up the zombies. It turned out quite well, eh?
Then Hannah decided to make a video, which you can check out on her ad blog here.
To stave off impending boredom, Hannah got into the Halloween make-up again.
Doesn’t she look a bit like this character from a German children’s book?
I’ve gotten a lot of cleaning done, but it is not as fun as it sounds, because as soon as I finish, I have to start over again.
I also pulled out a sewing project that has been hanging over my head for *cough* more than 10 years. But I have a strong incentive to finish it before xmas, so I will keep you posted on that.
John bought me a tin whistle from the local Irish shop for my birthday (on my request), and I pulled it out after John and Hannah tried to learn how to play her recorder. I figured that a tin whistle would be much simpler to play than my clarinet, but I found the directions too frustrating. Practicing my clarinet would require more of my time, since I would have to build up my embouchure again, but I might try it anyway. My niece is going to start playing the clarinet this school year, so I’ve been thinking about playing more than usual.
I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump, as evidenced in my writing blog, but I hope to find a way around that soon.
We even went to the museum yesterday. They have an exhibit until the end of the month on an early culture around the Alps that built their houses on stilts right on the edge of lakes and rivers. John got there first, and we caught up with him at the exhibit, after we had been through the rest of the museum. Hannah is still not the most patient museum-guest, but there wasn’t too much I wanted to look at in detail, so I went along with the whirlwind tour. John read *every single display* in the exhibit, so he was there much longer than we were. But since we had traveled there separately, it wasn’t a big deal. We came home and made a knock-off recipe of Cinnabon rolls, so if you don’t hear from us over the next few days, we have probably suffered death by cinnamon roll.
John is counting down the days until our Swedish vacation. We’re leaving 2 weeks from tomorrow, so I don’t have to start freaking out or list-making for at least another week. *g*
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Out and About with Nee
We went to the garden center yesterday and only *nearly* came to blows over nothing (the joy of Nee and John shopping together), but then we both took a chill pill and managed to enjoy the rest of our shopping and even find a few cute (and cheap) flowers to put in our window box.
I managed to restrain myself from buying a 2-foot-tall garden gnome, even though my paycheck from my recent teaching gig was burning a hole in my pocket. They were much cuter than the smaller ones. John, being the connoisseur he is, added to our cart a couple of bottles of the garden center’s *very own brand* of mead and blueberry wine. Classy. (Which we already knew from the days of the High Class Clock.)
Since we were going to be on the same street to go to the garden center, we stopped in at the Burger King for lunch. I think I am developing an allergy to American-style fast food. I started coughing after I was done eating, and I just couldn’t stop. I think it was all the grease coating my throat. And I only ate 4 of Hannah’s fries and 2/3 of a Whopper. You would think the coke would have cut right through it. Then in the garden center, pushing around 50 pounds of dirt and plants, my stomach informed me that the whole trip might have been a bad idea. I didn’t end up being sick, but I hate having a stomach-ache. Hence the cranky-pants attitude mentioned above.
Hannah disappeared yesterday afternoon as soon as we got home from the garden center to spend the night with her friend and has only been by long enough to pick up her car seat on their way to the JumpInn. I am telling you, that place is on one of the lower levels of hell, right next door to the Chuck E Cheese. The place itself is not *that* bad, but it is almost impossible to get there from our house. I know that sounds stupid, but it is on the opposite side of town, across the train tracks, and all the streets in the area have been under construction for years. We have been there a couple of times now, and we have never been more lost, even when trying to find our way on the autobahn. I’m just glad it is the friend’s parents and not us taking them there, because that is another source of cranky-pants in Nee’s family.
I managed to restrain myself from buying a 2-foot-tall garden gnome, even though my paycheck from my recent teaching gig was burning a hole in my pocket. They were much cuter than the smaller ones. John, being the connoisseur he is, added to our cart a couple of bottles of the garden center’s *very own brand* of mead and blueberry wine. Classy. (Which we already knew from the days of the High Class Clock.)
Since we were going to be on the same street to go to the garden center, we stopped in at the Burger King for lunch. I think I am developing an allergy to American-style fast food. I started coughing after I was done eating, and I just couldn’t stop. I think it was all the grease coating my throat. And I only ate 4 of Hannah’s fries and 2/3 of a Whopper. You would think the coke would have cut right through it. Then in the garden center, pushing around 50 pounds of dirt and plants, my stomach informed me that the whole trip might have been a bad idea. I didn’t end up being sick, but I hate having a stomach-ache. Hence the cranky-pants attitude mentioned above.
Hannah disappeared yesterday afternoon as soon as we got home from the garden center to spend the night with her friend and has only been by long enough to pick up her car seat on their way to the JumpInn. I am telling you, that place is on one of the lower levels of hell, right next door to the Chuck E Cheese. The place itself is not *that* bad, but it is almost impossible to get there from our house. I know that sounds stupid, but it is on the opposite side of town, across the train tracks, and all the streets in the area have been under construction for years. We have been there a couple of times now, and we have never been more lost, even when trying to find our way on the autobahn. I’m just glad it is the friend’s parents and not us taking them there, because that is another source of cranky-pants in Nee’s family.
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