This little fellow visited our pear tree a couple of weeks ago.
Several weeks ago my daughter and I set out one evening. As we were about to get into the car, I stopped. “Sshh. Look.” I said.
“In the pear tree,” I pointed.
“Wow Mom—the first robin of spring.”
Earlier that morning we had spotted three red-winged black birds in the top of some trees (they are, and probably always will be, my favorites). Then in the evening a robin. Continue reading
Alfa_Romeo from Hot Wheels.com. Who wouldn’t want to make this car go.
This weekend I pulled ten dollars out of my daughter’s piggy bank and told her we could go to the store where she could shop for something for herself. We walked up and down toy aisles repeatedly in search of the ten dollar miracle. My daughter quickly learned that ten dollars doesn’t go very far, and that if you want something special, you will need to save for it. However, saving wasn’t on the agenda, because the money was burning a hole in her pocket.
So she finally chose a 97-cent Hot Wheels car and a nine-dollar starter track. I had really expected something Monster High- or possibly Barbie-related, but she went for the Hot Wheels, and I am so glad. Because for the rest of the afternoon she spent her time sprawled out on the living room floor configuring and reconfiguring her track. Continue reading
When I was a little girl, about 5 or 6 years old, my daddy had a machine shop in the Old Atlantic Ice House in Decatur, GA. Decatur is the city that didn’t become Atlanta because the rail yards weren’t located there, and because of that managed to hang on to its small town charm for a very long time. The Ice House was a decrepit old building of many floors (I remember 17, but I think that is a child’s memory), built like a stack of blocks with each floor getting progressively smaller as you ascended. Only once did I ever climb to the little bitty block at the top.
Mostly I played with the box collection that my daddy kept for me in the front offices, or I balanced on long pieces of steel I-beam that were laying on the floor waiting to become a frame for some new project. Occasionally I rooted around in the back, finding such treasures as old, rusted out horse shoes—which I still have. Continue reading
Awesome Mom herself
During our weekday morning routine, I was helping my daughter comb her hair, attempting to fight with the mess that the “tangle monster” had left us during the night.
“Never fear. Awesome Mom is here!” I struck a super hero pose, wielding the comb.
“You’re not Awesome Mom. You’re Funny Mom.” Continue reading
Perhaps I should leave the cooking to this one…
I dreamed that I got lost in blowing snow, hopelessly and completely lost in a blinding snowstorm—while on a riding lawnmower in my backyard.
It was a dream to cap a week of domestic difficulty. Continue reading
Eventually the robins will show up. Maybe. If we are lucky.
Well, apparently the ground hog saw his shadow on Ground Hog’s Day. Old News. Good for him, he probably went back underground curled up and will sleep through the remaining six weeks of winter. I don’t get to do that.
However, on Ground Hog’s Day, I was greeted in the early morning by the twitters, chirps and calls of small birds. Then I looked up later and saw a large flock of geese heading south.
So, I am confused. Do the geese know something we don’t, and they’ve decided head further south because the wobbly polar vortex is totally out of spin an is just going to flop down on the central US like a spinning top that has lost its momentum? Continue reading
My daughter brought home a Barbie, I can be…President book from the library the other day. These books and I can be dolls are an attempt to deflect some of the scathing criticism that Barbie has received for being a shallow role model. In this book Barbie runs for class president, and low and behold, the President of the United States visits…a female president.
I pointed out to my daughter as we read that we have never elected a woman president of the United States, so this book is really fiction. That doesn’t mean that we can’t have a female president; it just hasn’t happened yet.
Then, a few pages later the writer of the book decided to list the duties of the President. “The President makes the laws.” My husband and I just about jumped out of our skins. Continue reading