Tag Archives: reading

Over the Weather


Faced the day anew from the vantage point of the couch this morning. I’ve been holed up in my room sick as a bog (yes, bog, those things are foul) in bed for much of the week. Sleeping, dreaming, a hibernation of restoration.


Wish I could say all those hours down and out at least went to the art of reading, but no. The last time I really got immersed in a story was well over a year ago with Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One. Hmm, this photo visually recalls another. Yeah, the stack of books near my bed is outta control. Sometimes wish I had a second life where all I did was take in knowledge in every form that could then be USBed into my mind for this one.


Bringing old friends with me as I return to the land of food and sustenance today. Eggs, sourdough, marmalade, hot sauce. This is one of those live photos that captures a few seconds of sound and movement along with the image on an iPhone, and it’s really too bad that the frothing spitting sizzle of the browning butter crisping the edges of my eggs doesn’t translate to this page because, golly! A worthy little event to witness. And on the heels of nourishment? Audio visual needs met- finally gonna watch Hard Lovin’ Woman in a moment, a short documentary about Juliette Lewis. She’s crazy wonderful- her + a stage + all that manic energy = electric!


2016, I still love you, despite your harsh dealings with us, the people of this world. Defiantly declaring life is good, and will do so forever more. The camper on a ferry ride last year told me so.


Now, if I could just get a ton of snow for about three days straight past the point of this pretty frost nonsense. Thanks, 2017. ♦

Pork ‘n’ Beanly


A recent pork n’ beanly lunch with a little reading material from way back when fiiinally being caught up on. I’m fairly obsessed with a handful of new podcasts as of late, too. Several topics broached today- Mesmerism, The Radium Girls, Alan Turing: Codebreaker, Did Any Germans Resist Hitler?, and It’s Not the President, Stupid.

BONUS: Bloody, Miserable Medieval Economics. Ooh, sounds like there’ll be flesh wounds. ♦

View the full poster by Scott Williams Design featured in the image above.

Common Household Ingredient Aids In Curbing Appetite

Found the perfect deterrent to that late night snack. Looking to resist some extra calories? Try poo under your fingernails. It should do the trick! Yeah, was watching the children of some friends again last week. I’m rocking the little girl, 2-and-a-half-years-old, to sleep after a bedtime story and thinking that all is right with the world when she exclaims, “I have to go potty!” Well, glory be, this is a welcome development! Potty training has stalled as of late, so to hear such initiative on her part is a great thing. A little off in timing perhaps, but nevertheless …

We troop out to the nearby bathroom where I look to her to kinda lead me through the steps she’s been taught and we’re doin’ great! That is, until, down come the jamma bottoms, to reveal the almighty poo-poo, untamed poo-poo overflowing, nearing gush mode, out and down the little legs of my little friend.

“Stay right there! Don’t touch a thing, okay? I’ll be right back with wipes!” Who tells a 2-and-a-half-year-old that and actually expects positive results, you may ask? A desperate woman, that’s who.

Up to the tile counter I whisk her.

Running downstairs grabbing the container of wipes, running back, all with delusional hopes of little fingers staying out of the brown mush emerging from her drawers. It acts as a magnet to most little fingers. Had visions of smeared brown walls, tufts of rug covered in random pieces of drudgery. The possibility of dookie poked in ears, wiped in hair, squished in between tiny little toes. I re-entered the bathroom to find the little lady laughing and pointing gleefully at the poo. “Tinky!” she says. “Yes!” I agree, with krinkled nose and nodding head. Up to the tile counter I whisk her. Strip off all remaining clothing, promptly gagging at the sight of what looks like a brown chocolate cake glued to her little bum. Visually, can totally deal with this. Having huge difficulties with the aroma, however. From the waist down, I remained standing in front of her while I flung my upper half out the bathroom door into the hallway gasping for fresh air.

She didn’t miss a beat! “What doing?” she asks. I tell this child the truth. “Honey, the poo-poo is stinky like you said, and I was trying to breath in some fresh air.” “Oh,” she replies, and promptly laughs. Ha! She totally laughed at me in all her 2-and-a-half-year-old wisdom. “This lady’s an amateur,” she had to be thinking, “Wait till she gets a LOAD of what I dosed Daddy with last week!”

Love that munchkin. We wiped and cleansed and freshly dressed our way back to a lovely time in the rocking chair. Me nodding off while she snuggled in, wide awake and “reading” to me this time around. No poo-poo displaced to walls or carpet or little ears or little toes.

Yeah, just to under my fingernails. ♦

Smiling Toddler Girl

Time Will Tell

It’s nearly 2:30 a.m. I am mad at myself. I treated my mom like doo today. I didn’t mean to. I just don’t know how to communicate with her. At all. Enough said. Or not enough said. I can’t even think how to begin to enjoy her company. I love her. She is my mom. Love is just built in with some people and that includes moms. How come I can’t ever seem to give her the benefit of the doubt, the grace, I try to give other people? Will keep trying. It’s all that can be done.

Need to go sit quietly and just be still for awhile instead of running around like a headless chicken.

In happier news, I finally, finally was paid for a freelance job I completed some time ago. Check in the mail along with copies of the work for my portfolio. So hooray for that! I have to make time to read a short story by James Joyce. The Turn of the Screw. Bean says she wants my take on it because it was a bit confusing. I think it’s supposed to be elusive, though, and left to interpretation, from the summary I read of it so far. In the morning, church. I am glad. I feel empty and full at the same time. Like I need all the bad to be erased and to be refilled with all things good. Can’t think of a better place than church for that. Need to go sit quietly and just be still for awhile instead of running around like a headless chicken.

Our Christmas tree is all red this year. Red lights. Red ornaments. Red star. Red. The living room now glows, all warm in this redness. Green surely wouldn’t have the same feeling. Nor blue.

Ice on the roads tonight. Slipped here and there all the way home just awhile ago. And my nose is cold. Hate that. Time to crawl into bed. Got a new blanket. Need another one even, I think. Still cold. Need to think. Or maybe just sleep instead. Ever feel like you think too much? Are happy and then begin looking and analyzing what could go wrong? Old habit of mine. Long left behind now rearing its ugly head. All because of some dumbness that I read. Not even dumbness really. Just feelings someone is allowed to have concerning another. Still, it is not fun to find that someone else could get in the way of what I hope is mine. Mine. Le sigh. ♦