how I’m killing it at this gig

It’s 11:00am, and I’m seriously considering making dinner tonight.

This is significant in a number of ways.  There are more days than I’d like to admit when putting an evening meal together just isn’t top of my list, and the times when I’ve made it a priority I’ve experienced what one might call a notable lack of positive reinforcement.  (Hello there, T-man and Bear.)

If I do manage to think about dinner, it’s usually a semi-panicky revelation right before BrightSide comes home.  As in oh crap, it’s 5:30, what on earth are the kids gonna eat?!

So for me to be thinking about making dinner, and at 11:00 in the morning no less, is a big step in the right direction.  Or it means I’m hungry for lunch.  Either way, I’ve gotten food focused.

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wcw – no fear, no failure

“The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.”

– Julia Child

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A valid point, Ms. Child, and one I’d argue applies to many aspects of life.

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Live free, live wild…

Live like there is no failure, only varying degrees of success.

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the things we do for love (AKA what the hell am I doing?)

You have to admit, crazy or not, we all do things for love.  We step way outside our comfort zone when we’re dating, and the more serious things get the more likely we are to do something strange in the name of amore.  Shoot, this nutty instinct still kicks in even after you’ve been together for years.

Sometimes the acts are big, sometimes they’re small…and sometimes they just seem downright bizarre.

‘Cuz, you know…love.

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SoCS – that Sam-I-Am!

We sure do love us some Dr. Seuss in this house.  I have a number of favorites.  (Can someone even have “a number” of favorites?)  They’re all books that I would happily read over and over again.

The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins, Horton Hatches the Egg, The Sneetches, and The Lorax – all terrific books we read more times than I can count.  But Linda’s prompt can only bring one book to mind – the classic Green Eggs and Ham.

“That Sam-I-Am
That Sam-I-Am!

I do not like
That Sam-I-Am

Do you like
Green eggs and ham?

I do not like them,
Sam-I-Am.
I do not like
Green eggs and ham.”

For someone who’s not a fan of tongue twisters, this is probably one of the last books you’d think I’d love.  The rhymes tumble and twist, rumbling around in my mouth like a couple of marbles as the pace picks up, and I couldn’t help but smile as I barreled my way through the bevy of situations in which the character would not like green eggs and ham.

Nothing would move him to try them – not a house or a mouse or a box or a fox.  Not on a train, in the rain, with a goat, or on a boat.  The illustrations became more and more ridiculous, as did the character’s refusal to consider even the possibility that green eggs and ham might be worth trying.

I’m pretty sure this book resonates with all parents of young picky eaters.  Besides that, though, it is just plain fun to read.  The tongue twisters weren’t the hardest part…that was managing not to say I told you so when green eggs and ham turned out to be delicious.


SoCS 2

Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturdays are open to anyone who’d like to participate.  Pop over and give her blog a visit.  This week’s prompt is “ham.”

SoCS – measure twice, cut once

Boy, my mama could sew.

I remember going with her to pick out fabric for a new jumper or dress, running my hand down the row of bolts, looking at patterns and colors for something I’d love.  We didn’t have a lot of money then so Bee and I had to be sure before we made our final picks – there was no turning back once mom began cutting and laying out the pattern.  No “eh, I don’t really like this after all, the blue would have been better.”

Mom poured her time and talent into making those clothes for us, though I doubt I was as grateful as I could have been.  There were always kids who had brand name jeans, but whatever…we’ll call that character building.  She’d take the scraps, too (waste not, want not) and sew clothes for our dolls.  That made them extra special to me.

So with a talented mom like that you’d think I could manage more than a hem or button, right?  Except not so much.  Not for mom’s lack of trying – I seem to recall her trying to teach me how to work the sewing machine, but I just didn’t have the patience for it.  Probably best in the long run, really, considering how accident prone I turned out to be.  If it’s possible to sew two fingers together, I would have managed it.

No, Bee got all the crafting talent in the family and, as far as I know, can run an actual sewing machine.  If you’ve ever worked with one you know this is an achievement.  They have moving parts my brain just can’t seem to reconcile.

I have fond memories of my mom, though…meticulously laying out the fabric, patiently pinning on the pattern, carefully cutting it out piece by piece.  She put her love into everything she made for us.


SoCS 2

Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturdays are open to anyone who’d like to participate.  Pop over and give her blog a visit.  This week’s prompt is “so/sow/sew.”

a year in the life

No one’s ever prepared to lose their mother.  Intellectually I understand nobody lives forever, but it’s one thing to know death is inevitable and another thing entirely to find myself walking the earth without the woman who’s loved me my whole life.  It’s a permanent shift in the universe.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned in 365 days without my mom.

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