Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
But it did, so I will tell it to you now, as best as I can ( through my eyes of course.)
Once upon a time there was a farmer. A farmer who farmed for many years, like his father and brothers before him. Eventually, as happens a lot, there was a falling out between brothers and mothers and fathers all around. The farmer left the family plot to sow his own land. The family laughed and pointed, and whispered and mocked. But the farmer was tender underneath his soles. Tender and hurt. A dangerous combination for farming as any wise farmer will tell you.
To start his new life and his new farm, the tender farmer opened his field to all the odd and castoffed plants, and Fruits and Vegetables and What-nots that had no field to grow in. All the plants who had been shunned, and neglected and mocked.
“You can live in my field” said the farmer. “I will help you.”
And so for a few years the farmer had a nice field, with some odd, yet growing plants and Fruits and Vegetables and What-Nots. But as we all know, plants – especially Fruits and What-Nots - take a lot of work to grow, year after year. They always need something.
And soon the What-Not’s grumbled. And the Vegetables had opinions.
And as the garden grew larger and larger (because of course, everyone loved this new garden that welcomed odd balls) there was more for the farmer to do.
And the farmer became very, very tired and confused. And he couldn’t remember if ever really wanted to be a farmer at all. And then some other stuff happened that broke his heart and made him sad and then made him mad. But the Vegetables and the Fruits and the What-Not’s where never sure what really happened. Because the farmer never told them. He only talked of new ways to farm, things he read in books. And he tried to teach the What-Not’s how to tend to the Fruits, and the Vegetables how to tend to the What-Not’s, but no one really knew what he meant….because if they were all going to be the farmers then who was going to be the Fruits? And the What-Nots? And the Vegetables?
So for a while no one did anything. And the weeds began to sprout, and a lot of plants moved out of the garden, hoping to find another field where they could grow. Some of the ones who stayed hoped maybe the farmer would get some help, but he didn’t. Some of the ones who stayed tried to talk to him, but he didn’t understand them anymore, he had forgotten how to hear the garden language. He only heard the thoughts in his own head, and all the questions he had were very loud and it made it hard to hear anything else.
Soon, there were just a few plants and the farmer. He walked around the fields sometimes, and they stretched out their vines and leaves, tickling his ankles as he walked by. But it is said that he never again looked down, only ahead. Straight ahead.
Book: The French-Inspired Home (pre-order now!) A book filled with lovely things to inspire...
Book: The House in Good Taste - the original Interior Design bible
A very cool pair of lug-soled Boots. I have given up on any shoe or boot that is pointy in toe or heel. It's just not working for me. (Obviously the girls of Sex and the City didn't have gravel driveways and old crickety back steps and their hands full of backpacks, lunch boxes and grocery bags. )
And for those of you who are really trying to win points:
My dream ride, a restored old truck. This one is a 1959 Chevy Apache.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Can I pout for a moment? I have never really wanted to be a super model (well not since I was 14 anyway.) I am comfortable -most days- with my genetic make-up - I have a plentiful booty & thighs and my bosom is less than ample. I have no illusions that even starvation and intense daily workouts would result in a figure worthy of the runway and that's ok, I have a man who thinks I am lovely to look at and to hold and that means the world to me. But I can't do well the one thing I always wanted to do well - be pregnant. I puke my guts up for months when I am with child. I lose more weight than I gain (don't hate me, I more than gain it back while I am nursing. I am so not a textbook case for pregnancy.) And then they - the babies - come out purple and white and not breathing because the chords are wound so tightly around their necks (because apparently I make a pretty good jungle gym there in my belly.) And it is hours before I can hold them because they are in the NICU. So Nate and I have come to the choice that we won't be having any more biological children. And most days I am ok with that, because like I said, I have a man who thinks I am lovely. And I have 2 boys, who are healthy despite their traumatic and dramatic entrances. And I have a gift of a job that I love and the most amazing friends who love me and most days I can come up with something pretty cute to wear... But this put me over the edge. It just isn't fair. They name underwear after her, she host the coolest and smartest reality show ever invented, is married to a rich musician, has her own line of Birkenstocks and can pop babies out like a pez dispenser. I am going to cry.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Ok, I have found a new way to waste time. It's addictive really. I started with just one Gal and now I have 5... And they are all so cute. I have totally mapped out what I need for the fall. And it starts with a new due and a pair of black low-top Converse...
This Week's Site is...
For all you gals who have always wanted to go shopping without having to try on the clothes and seeing how fat/skinny/tall/short/busty/flat you think you are. For you gals who have always wanted to be able to afford the really cute things, whole outfits that go together - including trinkets like shoes and sunglasses.
For all you gals who love things that make you go "eeee" and "that is soooo cute!" and "oh, my gahd, that is adorable!!" and love all things monogram's.
For all the gals who loved Barbies and paper dolls, who now read InStyle and watch Project Runway, who would, if they could, maybe buy one Kate Spade purse and one pair of Jimmy Cho's.
Have fun wasting the day away...
Monday, August 14, 2006
Jemimah took this pic of Wylie right before his 6th birthday. He looks so grown and so wise. Where did the past 6 years go? Yesterday I told him that there are colleges in the wide world that are for people who want to be film makers. His eyes got as big as saucers. "I am going to that college!" he said breathlessly. I smiled like that cat in Alice in Wonderland with all the stripes. Wylie hasn't been big on college since he was 3 and Steve from Blues Clues left Blue in the lurch with dumb ole' Joe, for College! Wylie was horrified at the thought of leaving me, his precious Mudder, for such an awful place. He was going to live with me "forever," he informed me. I have been working on creating a picturesque view of College ever since. Forever is a long time I thought when he was 3. But now, looking at this picture of my 6-going-on-16 year old, forever seems too soon. I remember the day my mom left me at OBU. The lump in my throat was big, but not as big as her's was, I am sure now.
Last night the boys watched the end of The Incredibles. It was decided that Wylie is Dash and Miles is Jack-Jack. After it was over Wylie said "Momma, I think you are mostly like Violet because you are sensitive. But you are kinda like Mrs. Incredible too because you can stretch. Like in yoga, when your arms get long." I am glad I am not trying to hide too much from him. He would figure it out anyway.
Speaking of mothers, last week my mom had her birthday too. Guess how she spent it? Doing my laundry and watching my kids while I had a stomach flu. All I gave her for her birthday was a little book and the same flu. What kind of grateful is that?
Monday, August 07, 2006
Here they are. The shoes that saved my summer. I have to be on my feet a lot (ya know, chasing pirates and tackling bolts of fabric at Hancocks etc...) and these are the only thing that kept my feet from breaking in half and allowed them to breathe.
This pick is for Amalah
You can buy them HERE
(for you pink haters they come in blue and green too...)
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
This picture is for Amy. She gave all this lovely play-dough to Miles for his B-day. It was in retaliation for the Rubber Boots I gave her son for his birthday.
Playing with such gooey gobbley googly creatures such as these will cause you to ponder, and pondering, as we all know, leads to questions not answers.
So here are my Questions for the Universe:
1. Why is Richard Simmons still wearing sequined tank tops, hot pants, and a gray 'fro???? Isn't he tired yet?
2. Why do they still sell regular M&M's? Does anybody buy them other than for baking? Doesn't almost everyone eat Peanut M&M's? Weren't regular M&M's just the precursor to Peanut M&M's anyway?
3. Nicole Kidman got out just in time didn't she?
4. Did anyone really think Britney was a good role model for 12 year olds? Really?
5. If I ever was to appear on David Letterman would he find me boring or charming? Boring most likely. Unless I smelled good...
6. I will never be a rock star will I?
7. If I could have a celebrity best friend could it be with Kate Winslet? And could we dream together of being best friends with Sarah Jessica Parker?
8. If I decide to HomeSchool or Unschool my kids, simply because I hate getting up in the morning does that make me bad?
9. Who will Lorelei choose? Luke or Christopher???
10. Will Studio 60 be as good as West Wing and Sports Night (please say yes, please say yes)