Cows at the dairy farm down the road from our house. Taken in March of 2006.
This week’s PhotoHunt theme is “furry.” Cows aren’t the first animals to come to mind for the term, but I like this photo, and I’m on a roll with the bovines for the Year of the Ox.
To see more fur a-flyin’, check out tnchick.
With Chinese New Year having brought us into the Year of the Ox, it seems a good time to bring on the bovines.
Seeing as oxen aren’t all that plentiful in the universe of things in my head, Babe aside¹, I’ve decide to round up some more plentiful bovines instead. This ThThTh brings you cows².
I never saw a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one.
¹ The blue ox, not the pig.
²I’ll spare you the bull, or at least the bulls, for now.
Dear diary,
Another day has gone by, and I’ve been overlooked yet again.
When she grabbed for me a couple of days ago, I nearly burst at the seams from excitement. But then I nearly burst at the seams when she tried me on. I guess I don’t quite fit the way I used to. Maybe I shrank in the wash. She just tossed me aside, half-way inside out. I felt so exposed.
My mother used to say “you’ll be put on one leg at a time just like everybody else.” But I always thought I could do better than that. These days, I’d settle for just being worn on one leg. Or at least to be folded up in a drawer with some dignity.
Some days, I wish I could just pick myself up off the floor.
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So the Monday Mission for this week was to write a post in the style of a diary entry.
I used to keep journals. I wrote really often when I was 17 through 20. I still have all those books, lined up on a bookshelf next to my bed. I don’t really look at them, and certainly never read them. I largely forget their existence. But for the assignment I thought “wouldn’t it be funny to post a real journal entry?” So I went and had a look last night. I picked up a few of the journals, and flipped through them, looking for something entertaining. I tell you, I am slightly scarred from the experience. At 17, I was insecure about my looks and my self-worth, wasting time and energy dieting and suffering from unrequited affections. And I took myself way, way too seriously.
I can say that, without doubt, I like myself much more than I did back then. I wouldn’t go back for anything. I’ll take 37 over 17 any day.
This is part of set of china that was my great grandmother’s. For decades it was in the china cabinet at my grandmother’s house, but now is part of my own collection. I love the dark, bold pattern with its unusual color scheme of rust brown and black. And I love the quaintness of the egg cups, which seem like such relics of another era.
The odds and ends remaining of the set are in varying conditions. While most of the plates are whole, many of the teacups have cracks. One of the egg cups has a small chip, which prompted me to think of it for this week’s PhotoHunt theme, “chipped.”
For more “chipped” photos, pay a visit to tnchick.
Yesterday, I kept Phoebe out of daycare so that she could watch the inauguration with me. A friend of mine in Boston was hosting a viewing at her apartment, and I thought it would be great to watch with friends. John, unfortunately, had an important work meeting, but I decided that Phoebe, Theo and I would head into Boston.
We almost didn’t end up going. Even though I got up before 8:00, things moved really slowly. A few minutes before 10:00 found me re-dressing Theo after a major diaper blowout and impromptu sponge bath, and Phoebe running around the house naked. It takes an hour to drive into Boston, and then I’d have parking to deal with, and then baby and toddler-wrangling to get up 3 flights of stairs to my friend’s apartment. I didn’t see how we could possibly make it before the ceremony, and I just didn’t want to miss it. I called my friend to tell her we weren’t going to make it.
But then, somehow, we kicked into high gear, and Phoebe (who was very unhappy at the idea of staying home) got dressed in a hurry, and we got on the road by 10:15. Traffic was light, and there was parking only about a block from my friend’s apartment. I called and one of my friends came down to the street to help us in. (There were giant 4-foot snowbanks between the street and the sidewalk, and I had to make separate trips climbing over/through with Phoebe and Theo, so it was good to have someone else there.) I think we got to my friend’s apartment around 11:30, where there was a spread of yummy food, some friends, and a bottle of champagne.
It was fun to watch the ceremony with friends, and we cheered and jeered and toasted and joked and were so incredibly happy to see this day.
I held Theo on my lap, and pulled Phoebe close to me during Obama’s speech. I’m so glad that I had them there with me, so that some day I can tell them where they were for this amazing moment of history.
“Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.”
George W. Bush, August 5, 2004
In less than 12 hours, an article of clothing in our household will become instantly outmoded.
I’m talking about you, little “I already know more than the president” onesie. Yes, Phoebe wore you proudly, back when she was small enough. And sure, you would still fit Theo, size-wise. But your message, so sadly and humorously apt for far too long, will no longer be appropriate. And that deserves a celebration of extraordinary magnitude.
To send off this once-stylish article of clothing in style, I thought I’d post a few pictures from a photo shoot it had with Phoebe, back in 2006.
Photographer: Hi, Phoebe.
Phoebe: Oh, hi.
Photographer: Hey, Phoebe, what’s that you’re wearing?
Phoebe: You mean this?
Photographer: You look fabulous, dahling. Now, strike a pose.
Photographer: Work it baby, work it. Now show me the pout.
Photographer: Oh, yeah, baby. Yeah.
Phoebe: Can we stop this now? I’d like my lunch.
Photographer: Okay, okay. But first, tell me. Will you be happy to see a new president in office?
Phoebe: You know it!
Photographer: Oh, yeah. Anything you’d like to say to the President as he takes his leave?
Phoebe: Buh-bye.
Phoebe: And don’t let the door hit you on the a…
Photographer: Phoebe!
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This post is also doing double duty as a Monday Mission post. The assignment for this week was to post a series of photos with accompanying dialog, inspired by such posts from Wherever Ewe Go.
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And by the way, anyone have any suggestions about what to do with this onesie?
What can I say? I love hats. And what’s more, my kiddos look good in a hat. Damn good. I found myself overwhelmed by cute-hatted options for this week’s PhotoHunt theme of “hats.” While tempted to put together a headwear retrospective¹, I decided to show a bit of restraint. For now.
For more hats than you can shake a cat at, go visit tnchick.
¹ Like KC, it appears that I am afflicted with Trichotoppomania.
No, I’m not just trying to get your attention. Well, maybe I am.
Our household has been beset by a plague of mucus. I’ve been feeling pretty worn out. It’s no fun tending to a sick baby when sick oneself. I can’t tell you the number of times when I’ve finally gotten Theo to settle down and then had to cough or sneeze, causing him to wake up and/or get riled up. Phoebe and John are both sick, too. We are a fun bunch.
The laundry situation recently became so dire that yesterday I found myself wearing an “outfit” that defies description. Let me describe it to you, and defy its description-defyingness.
Finding that all pants fitting my current size were sufficiently soiled with various baby-related fluids that even I wouldn’t wear them, I was pleased to discover that my maternity yoga pants actually fit moderately well, if rather differently than they did a few months ago. They are velour, in a very pretty dark plum color. (Yes, I’m saying I put on some fuzzy purple pants.) I next surveyed my shirt options. Because it’s freakin’ cold here, I like to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt layered under a sweater. The only such long-sleeved shirt remaining in my closet was my Halloween shirt. Orange. “Fuck it,” I said. (And I believe that’s an exact quote.) I grabbed the damn orange shirt, layered a blue hoodie on top, and next went on a quest for socks.
I have a gazillion socks in a pile. Almost none of which seem to match. The only pair I could muster were a sort of raspberry color, no doubt remaining only because I don’t generally willingly wear them. (I can’t remember what words I used when I made this discovery.)
I did find myself thinking, though, and for the second time in less than a week, “someday soon, I will embarrass my children.” (Now that I think about it, the other time was a sock-related incident, too. A public sock-related incident.)
It’s a glamorous life I lead.
Looking to find that special someone? It turns out that so is the house next door.
Coming soon to a classified ad section near you: the personals meet the real estate listings.
Easy living: fully furnished apartment looking for someone to get their hands in my drawers, unpack my chest, and jump right into my bed.
Open living space: Contemporary 3-bedroom home looking for a ménage-à-trois.
Airy A-Frame: Ideal for someone who likes to play around down below, without being bothered that there’s not much going on upstairs.
Cozy space: Cramped studio with no kitchen looking for individual with few belongings who enjoys long walks on the beach and eating out.
Eclectic bungalow: Colorful and heavily accessorized home looking for someone to seek hidden treasures. The carpet doesn’t match the drapes, but may be willing to strip down to genuine hardwood floor.
Cheap rent: Flat looking for relationship with a tolerant and supportive individual willing to overlook minor structural damage, occasional leaky faucets, and baggage left over from previous occupants.
Modest cottage: Frigid home seeks like-minded individual who is willing to bundle up in lots of clothing and keep your hands off my thermostat.
Penthouse Wannabe: Upper story apartment with mind in the basement desires occupants willing to make up some good stories.
Scenic views: fishbowl-style street-level apartment with large windows and no blinds seeks exhibitionist looking to entertain neighbors.
Well built: Attractive home with impressive plumbing looking for like residents who enjoy lots of hot and steamy showers.
Closet lovers dream: Cosmopolitan metropolitan loft apartment with comfortable walk-in closets looking to be shared by a pair of “roommates.” Spacious living area is ideal for a party for when you are ready come out of the closet.
Vacation rental: Seeking short-term fun with no risk of commitment.
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This post was inspired by this week’s Monday Mission, which sought a meaningful relationship with posts “in the style of a sales pitch for your house, from the point of view of your house.” My house didn’t have a lot to say, it turns out. But it would appear that a few other homes did.
collecting tokens 