I hope your New Year's Eve was filled with drunken revelry or, alternatively, lots of sleep. Equally enticing, in my opinion.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have frozen collard greens to harvest and black-eyed peas to prepare. Health, wealth, and happiness to all in the new year!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Good Timing
The sun that provided such a fascinating new playmate for Cubby yesterday also provided me the opportunity to wash and dry on the line the mountain of napkins and tablecloths that have been building up since, um, Thanksgiving.
So I wasn't so prompt with the laundering. So what? If YOU did as much laundry as I do (every single day--no exaggeration), napkins wouldn't be high on your priority list, either.
Now I just have to iron it all. Which will probably take another month.
I expect my Good Housekeeping Award any day now.
P.S. At the very moment I was drying my linens outside and basking in the sun with Cubby, my mother called to tell me it was snowing in Tucson. Awesome.
So I wasn't so prompt with the laundering. So what? If YOU did as much laundry as I do (every single day--no exaggeration), napkins wouldn't be high on your priority list, either.
Now I just have to iron it all. Which will probably take another month. I expect my Good Housekeeping Award any day now.
P.S. At the very moment I was drying my linens outside and basking in the sun with Cubby, my mother called to tell me it was snowing in Tucson. Awesome.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
A New Friend
Cubby was lurching around the dining room this morning, as per usual, doing his laps of the dining room table, examining A.'s enormous boots and their fascinating laces, visiting his buddies the brass drawer handles on the sideboard . . . just like any other morning.
Except.
This particular morning, the sun was actually out. We have not seen the sun in many a day, but there it was this morning, all shiny and bright, filling the house with unaccustomed light and even a wee bit of warmth. And shadows. Without sunlight, we can cast no shadows.
DEEP.
It occurred to me that due to the depressingly overcast upstate New York winter, Cubby has not had much of an opportunity to play with his own shadow. Which is why it was such a novel thing this morning, and why he spent many minutes banging his hand excitedly on the shadow he was casting on the door frame. He moves, it moves! It's like a miracle!
It doesn't take much to generate excitement at Blackrock in the winter, obviously. If only we were all so easily entertained.
Except.
This particular morning, the sun was actually out. We have not seen the sun in many a day, but there it was this morning, all shiny and bright, filling the house with unaccustomed light and even a wee bit of warmth. And shadows. Without sunlight, we can cast no shadows.
DEEP.
It occurred to me that due to the depressingly overcast upstate New York winter, Cubby has not had much of an opportunity to play with his own shadow. Which is why it was such a novel thing this morning, and why he spent many minutes banging his hand excitedly on the shadow he was casting on the door frame. He moves, it moves! It's like a miracle!
It doesn't take much to generate excitement at Blackrock in the winter, obviously. If only we were all so easily entertained.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
This Educational Program Brought To You By A.'s Amazing Brain
Good morning, duckies! And a happy fifth day of Christmas to you.
You did know we're in the middle of the twelve days of Christmas, didn't you? You know, the twelve days that start with a partridge in a pear tree, include eight maids a'milking, and end with twelve drummers drumming? Those are some kind of great Christmas gifts, right there.
ANYWAY.
So, since the twelve days start on Christmas Day, today is the fifth day. Which means that I should have done this post yesterday, but instead I posted a Mystery Photo, because I am not always timely.
Today, we're going to discuss the gift for the fourth day of Christmas, which, as everyone knows, is four calling birds.
Except it's not.
WOAH. HOLD THE PHONE.
I have spent my entire life singing that song with four calling birds, when in fact, it's supposed to be four colly birds. I learned this from a little book Santa brought for Cubby with beautiful illustrations for the twelve days (and here it is). I was sitting there singing the song for Cubby, flipping through the book, and I got to four colly birds, which stopped me right in my musical tracks.
"What?" I said. "What the hell is a colly bird? From the illustrations they look like . . . blackbirds?"
I was sort of talking to myself, but I should have known someone in the room (those someones being A. and the MiL) would know all about this. Because between the two of them, they can produce explanations of every esoteric piece of knowledge you can think of. And a lot you probably couldn't think of.
ANYWAY AGAIN.
After my little self-dialog, A. somewhat off-handedly explained it: Colly birds are blackbirds. Colly is a somewhat archaic English word meaning black as coal; it comes from the same root as "colliery," which is an old English word for coal mine.
OF COURSE. Everyone knows that.
At least, now I know that. And so do you.
So there you have it. A.'s Christmas gift to you: Lyrical accuracy and the priceless gift of pretty much useless knowledge. You're welcome.
You did know we're in the middle of the twelve days of Christmas, didn't you? You know, the twelve days that start with a partridge in a pear tree, include eight maids a'milking, and end with twelve drummers drumming? Those are some kind of great Christmas gifts, right there.
ANYWAY.
So, since the twelve days start on Christmas Day, today is the fifth day. Which means that I should have done this post yesterday, but instead I posted a Mystery Photo, because I am not always timely.
Today, we're going to discuss the gift for the fourth day of Christmas, which, as everyone knows, is four calling birds.
Except it's not.
WOAH. HOLD THE PHONE.
I have spent my entire life singing that song with four calling birds, when in fact, it's supposed to be four colly birds. I learned this from a little book Santa brought for Cubby with beautiful illustrations for the twelve days (and here it is). I was sitting there singing the song for Cubby, flipping through the book, and I got to four colly birds, which stopped me right in my musical tracks.
"What?" I said. "What the hell is a colly bird? From the illustrations they look like . . . blackbirds?"
I was sort of talking to myself, but I should have known someone in the room (those someones being A. and the MiL) would know all about this. Because between the two of them, they can produce explanations of every esoteric piece of knowledge you can think of. And a lot you probably couldn't think of.
ANYWAY AGAIN.
After my little self-dialog, A. somewhat off-handedly explained it: Colly birds are blackbirds. Colly is a somewhat archaic English word meaning black as coal; it comes from the same root as "colliery," which is an old English word for coal mine.
OF COURSE. Everyone knows that.
At least, now I know that. And so do you.
So there you have it. A.'s Christmas gift to you: Lyrical accuracy and the priceless gift of pretty much useless knowledge. You're welcome.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Mystery Photo--Because I'm Done
Done with the holidays, that is. We've had Thanksgiving, Christmas, and my birthday. Time to end the celebrations and get on with the hard slog of unrelieved winter.
Doesn't THAT sound fun.
I don't count New Year's Eve as a holiday. Mostly because I think there's too much pressure on people to do something fun and then no one ever ends up having as much fun as they think they should be having. Boo to that.
So! Since the holidays are now over (for me) and I apparently have nothing of any real interest or excitement to share, let us delve into my unlabeled photo archives for a glimpse of the past. Because that's REALLY interesting and exciting.
Oh, it so is. Don't pretend.
What shall it be today?
It's a winter parade!
Doesn't THAT sound fun.
I don't count New Year's Eve as a holiday. Mostly because I think there's too much pressure on people to do something fun and then no one ever ends up having as much fun as they think they should be having. Boo to that.
So! Since the holidays are now over (for me) and I apparently have nothing of any real interest or excitement to share, let us delve into my unlabeled photo archives for a glimpse of the past. Because that's REALLY interesting and exciting.
Oh, it so is. Don't pretend.
What shall it be today?
It's a winter parade!This photo is from December 12, 2008, when apparently A. was moving his flock from the upper pasture to the paddock by the house. Note Mia the Faithful Herding Dog bringing up the rear with an alert eye to any stragglers. And any stray bits of corn that might fall from the shepherd's bucket. She does love corn.
And with that small bit of random photography, I will leave you. Have a fabulous day, duckies!
And with that small bit of random photography, I will leave you. Have a fabulous day, duckies!
Monday, December 27, 2010
O Happy Day
Good morning, poppets! Welcome back to work/routine/life after Christmas. How are we all feeling this morning? Tired? Morose? A wee bit down?
Well! You should definitely increase your morale today, because this is not just the first workday after Christmas. No, this is my birthday.
I KNOW. Why is this not a federal holiday? I do not know. Someone should talk to the President about that.
Yes, today I am officially In My Thirties. That is, 31. And to celebrate my thirty-oneness, A. and I will be leaving Cubby with the MiL so we can have a very glamorous luncheon in the Small City.
Okay, so our very glamorous luncheon will actually be at a pub because that's about all that's open in the Small City on Mondays. But they have REALLYREALLY good steak fries that I never get to have, so I'm totally okay with it. Who needs glamor when you can have fried potatoes? Not me.
Thirty was a good year for me, what with that whole baby thing and all. And since I get to keep said baby (I think the probation period is over and he is now officially mine for real), I can't see why 31 shouldn't be even better.
Bring on the 31st year!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Baby's First Christmas
As the MiL so astutely pointed out, no one cares about Baby's Third Christmas or whatever, but Baby's First Christmas? Bring on the pretty engraved tree ornament (thanks, sis and sailor!) and the millions of photos!
Or, you know, five photos*.
Also, apparently, Baby's First Xanax. Yikes. Wake up, kid! It's Christmas!
That's better. Playing nicely with Grandma's present, the awesomely adorable walking wagon. Also, you'll notice that I left the dogs alone this year and instead decorated my child with the bows. Mother's prerogative.
And yet another toy! The aptly named Curiosity Cube. We're on a roll now!
Distracted by spherical fruit that does not quite fit in the mouth.
Or, you know, five photos*.
Also, apparently, Baby's First Xanax. Yikes. Wake up, kid! It's Christmas!
That's better. Playing nicely with Grandma's present, the awesomely adorable walking wagon. Also, you'll notice that I left the dogs alone this year and instead decorated my child with the bows. Mother's prerogative.
And yet another toy! The aptly named Curiosity Cube. We're on a roll now!
Distracted by spherical fruit that does not quite fit in the mouth.
And the reason there was no present from Mom and Dad under the tree: discarded packaging material. Most awesome toy ever.
* Yes, I did take more than five photos. Except most of them are pretty crappy because I am One of the World's Worst Photographers. (Modified from World's Worst, because Phoo-D told me I didn't deserve that honor--nice of her, but untrue, I'm afraid.)