Skip to main content
Today I hung out with my nieces, Julianna and Sophia. I have evidence.

One large glass vase full of “perfect” autumn leaves and four pinecones with “lots of sap! They need lots of sap!” I have no idea what made her think sap was a plus. I will be looking for tips in about a week; how does one best get sap off of glass?

Nine apples, each with exactly one bite out of them. Nine. One bite each.

Two index cards covered with glitter crayon portraits.

Lower drawers of my office furniture… rearranged.

A Dora the Explorer book and three others that I’m not sure I recognize. Cute ponies. Pastels.

Sort of a small bruise-type thing under my left eye. That Sophie doesn’t know her own strength.

What a great day!

Comments

Zinnia said…
please post photos of all these items.
7:58 PM
Zinnia said…
come on. I at least want to see the alleged bruise. and the nine apples. I think this would be an awesome use of that camera.
10:42 AM
listeme said…
Now, look. Some people might keep apples just rolling around for a few days. Not me! They have been chopped, eaten, and otherwise disposed of.
11:28 AM
Anonymous said…
I hope to be where you are in a few years.
11:18 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Last night was the first meeting of the writing group. It is a quirky group. The other Odyssey grad seems like a good contact to have. He told me about a group led by Ted White near here. I’m thinking about looking into that one, too. I suppose I can’t be gone every evening. Anyway, this group (the one from last night) will force me to produce at least two pieces a month. That alone is worth the price of admission. Well, the price of gasoline, anyway.
2 comments
Read more
Life is a little tough these days. Taking a break. I will be back with more tales of grasshoppers and compost heaps and scrabble games soon.
17 comments
Read more
I have to confess something. I enjoy reading Anne Lamott. Okay, okay, I know that makes me more touchy-feely than I usually admit. She is very lovey. She talks about mystical things. She freely admits to praying (although she uses the F-word frequently in her books about “faith”. I like this in a person.) She talks about breathing. She is very real, and I admire this. She talks about her parents and her son with a mix of love and frustration and grumpiness. She admits, in public, in her writing, to sometimes being angry, sometimes disliking her loved ones, to having to work very hard to forgive them. I like to think I’m like her in a lot of ways, but I don’t share this ability. I can’t easily look at someone I love, look them in the eyes, and say “I’m really angry with you.” “I am mad.” “That was a bad thing you did. To me.” Instead, I’m the sort that says, “Oh, gosh, I’m sure you didn’t mean to run over my dog. It’s okay. I was meaning to get rid of that old thing soo...
4 comments
Read more