Today when my phone beeped my Tuesday reminder to go volunteer in Ike's classroom I was in the midst of painting my fingernails. Each fingernail is a different color, and I'm digging it big-time. Red, mint, silver, powder blue, and brownish-maroon are the colors. They don't match! They don't even complement each other! I am so free. Then I went and helped the kids glue Tab A to Dot A and Tab B to Dot B to make a pop-out butterfly, and the teacher gave me Idle Isle nut balls (I think they're really called almond creme toffees or something, but nut balls is a more fun name) to thank me for my year of service, and I was all, "Nut balls? Totally worth it!" Then Willa graduated from kindergarten and I cried a little bit, but I made the tears stay in my eyes because I'm not going to be the sort of person who cries at a kindergarten graduation. Then this afternoon Willa wanted her fingernails and toenails painted, and I figured, why not make myself look like I just clawed somebody to death with my toenails? Done and done. You can see the pictures on Twitter. Good day.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Here's my awesome idea for end-of-year gifts for my kids' teachers: I'm going to buy some of those fancy pastas from Ross or T.J. Maxx, and I'm going to put a note on it that says, "Thanks for teaching us to use our noodles." Get it? NOODLES? Ha ha, I crack myself up. Maybe I'll get some fancy oil or sauce to go along with it.
Friday, May 17, 2013
"Okay, that's good, but let's try this: why don't you turn your body a little bit more toward the camera . . . no, keep your arms where they are, just turn your body . . . a little bit more . . . a little bit more . . . more . . . no, put your arms closer together. Turn your face back away from the camera! Arms closer together . . . turn your body more . . . no, keep your elbows down . . . okay, FINE, listen: we're trying to get you to squish your boobs together with your arms and aim them at the camera without looking like you're aiming them at the camera. GOSH."
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Yesterday when I was buying the tomato plants the greenhouse lady and I were talking about soil amendments, and she gave me this handy rule: the smaller the animal, the less of its poop you can use. Chickens, rabbits, etc. you can use about an inch. Horses and cows, four inches. Goats she thinks only about two. I bet you could use six inches of elephant poop, so don't freak out if you've got a whole bunch of it lying around. Blue whale just put the plants directly in the whale-pie, I guess. Also don't use poop from meat-eaters (humans, bears, the Kraken). You're welcome.
Monday, May 13, 2013
The thing on my computer that allows it to talk to the internet without being hooked up to a cable--the wireless thingamabob--is only operating in fits and starts and I reach a point of murderous rage about it at least seven times a day. This is where my friends and family members with Macs are all smug, and I'm rolling my eyes about how self-congratulatory is the Cult of Apple. I like Apple products, I love my phone, but it is impossible for me to go into the Apple store without feeling like I need to either throw up or run around with an enormous tack bursting all the bloated egos in the room. Computers are non-sentient, and therefore are not imbued with virtue, so everybody needs to settle down.
The vendor the PTA bought our school t-shirts from called today wanting to collect the money for the shirts, only I already paid for them when I picked them up last fall, so I guess they'll have to find five hundred dollars somewhere else. The guy we got the bounce houses from for the carnival only charged us half of what we agreed on because of the big hole, which was very decent of him. I'm almost done being president! We have our field day activity and a bazillion thank-you notes to write for the carnival, and then I'm home free!
We got some new chickens. Their names are Cabbage, Nitrogen Rich, SpeedZone (like the herbicide), Giraffe-O, Penguin, Cookie Gugelman, and Brad. They like to knock their food over and poop in their water, just like all the other chickens I've ever had. This time, though, I'm not going to keep them in my house for six weeks, no sir. As soon as I can get a pen put together outside that they can't escape from they are out of here. This time I'm in charge.
I went a little bit crazy at the nursery today and bought so many tomato plants. But how do you not buy at least one of every color? Except white--I've been burned too many times by white. I can hardly wait to taste them all! I think the one I'm most excited for is the Kellogg's Breakfast.
Hazel and Sally are getting all jolly, which is a euphemism for fat, which is a reduction of pregnant. I reckon they'll start nesting any day now.
Mother's Day is not a big deal to me, and hasn't really ever been except for the first one I had with John after our marriage, and for some reason I was expecting him to get me something, even though we didn't even have any kids, and I was all wounded when I didn't get a present, but because I am candid to a fault I did not give him the silent treatment or say that if he didn't know why I was sad I wasn't going to tell him, but rather told him why I was upset, and nowadays I am my authentic self who doesn't really pay attention to calendars but wants presents all the time. Much easier. All of which is to say that I was pretty grumpy when I woke up this morning and found the kitchen and the rest of the house in the same mess I left them in, because the Mother's Day fairies had not come in the night and spic-and-spanned my house. And today wasn't even Mother's Day! You can't let Mother's Day get you down. So now John is very helpfully cleaning the whole kitchen while I fritter away my noontime suppertime choretime too on the internet, and I do not feel bad about it. Really it should be the children doing this, but it's okay. John will do a better job anyway.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
It started out innocently enough. The glass knob wouldn't come out of one of my cabinet doors, so I thought since I'm probably going to change the knobs anyway (sorry Beckster--the glass ones are going to go into storage for a bit), I'll just break this one and then I can get the machine screw out. But one thing led to another and now the cabinet door is at the cabinet door hospital having emergency surgery.
I bought a terrible food at T.J. Maxx yesterday. I was looking for things to make gift baskets for the ladies who helped me rake in lots of moolah at the school carnival (which was a frigging nightmare, but is blessedly over for another year), and there was this stuff that has caramel popcorn and pretzels and potato chips and dark and milk and white chocolate and I bought it and now it's almost gone. I wish sweets were not so appealing to me. I almost always overindulge and get a headache, but it's not until after I've eaten the sweet, by which point the headache doesn't do me any good. I'm like a cat, people! I can't connect consequences if they're not immediate!
The aforementioned school carnival was madness and mayhem, and half the people who were supposed to come run the games didn't, so I was running around recruiting people who were there attending the carnival and pressing them into service as carnies. The fifth graders on the student council were so burned out by the time they were done that the free slice of pizza was not really enough to appease them. One of the bouncy houses had a ginormous hole in the side where a seam had failed and been duct taped multiple times, which partly explains why this guy's estimate was $200 cheaper than the other people. John came over just in time to win the auction for the wheelbarrow, which I had my heart set on. It's the nicest wheelbarrow, you guys. I don't know if we'll even put goat poop in it for a while.
We bought some beefcake protein supplement for the bees so they can be on teevee lookin' all buff, plus we got some essential oils to put in their sugar water. I'll tell you what, if these bees leave or die or whatever I will be super T.O.ed. I am giving them so many opportunities to succeed.
I was thinking about education today, not just formal education, but life-long seeking after knowledge, and I really do think it's the difference between freedom and slavery, between acting and being acted upon. I don't think it's a coincidence that in oppressive societies the ruling class controls and limits access to education. It makes me think about different ways to spend our local and national budgets, and what effect more and better after-school programs and tutoring and vocational training might have. Just solving problems from the couch in my parlor, that's all.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
I just stimulated the crap out of our local economy. First I bought a microwave at Murphy's, then chocolates at Idle Isle, then a tie at the place next door to Idle Isle (awesome ties, not much money, see how cute:)
Such is my reverence for the cave of wonders that is Costco that even store-brand convenience foods take on an air of respectability. I was thisclose to buying a tray of heat-and-serve chiles rellenos yesterday, but managed to keep my head in the end. The ingredient list was not bad, you guys. Stop looking at me like that.
Last weekend we watched "Victory," a John Huston film; simplified synopsis: Nazis are so bad they will even cheat at football. It has Michael Caine in it! I love him. Plus Pele! And Rocky, who at first is hateful times ten, but then I guess I got used to him. I think you should watch this show. I got way invested in the storyline, and even cried at the end.
After putting two bottles of generic drain cleaner down my tub in the last month the thought occurred to me last night that maybe I was dealing not just with muck and grime neat, but muck and grime combining their powers with a giant clog of some kind. So I figured out how to take out the plug, and there before me lay the horrible truth. Long story short, the tub drains fine now, and is cleaner than it's been since the last time I cleaned it. Normally the boys clean the bathrooms, but every once in a while I do a rotation so it gets a proper cleaning.