"Mom"oirs

This kid, he's a funny one.

Claire and Ben and I were shooting the breeze one day after school last week. Claire was telling me that some kids have recently been getting hurt in PE because they've been doing more rigorous activities. I told her that I wasn't surprised by that, that sometimes middle-schoolers challenge themselves too much while their bodies are still clumsy and awkward and they end up getting hurt. To which Ben responded "I have a feeling Claire will get drunk in college." Hmmm.

Tales from the Greenhouse

Chapter 1: Things Pertaining to Assholes

This is one of our mint varieties, M. candicans.
Such a pretty name, you'd think it would be sweet.
Such a feathery flower, you'd think it would tickle your senses.
You would be wrong.
The flowers on this mint plant smells like dog shit.
The first couple of times I worked near it, I kept checking my shoes to make sure I hadn't stepped in anything.

This is beautiful anise, an herb that smells of licorice and is commonly used in the flavor industry.
One would pronounce anise like "ann-iss".
Except one of our secretaries. She pronounces anise like "anus".
I recently received a phone call from her, stressing to me the importance of letting my boss know that her "anus" seed had been delivered.
So when she returned I did just that.
"Your anus is now available in the office".
Or when we walk into the room where the anise is grown someone is bound to say "Sure smells like anus in here".

Art Share

February Artist Trading Cards for my swap tonight.

A page from my art journal playing with masks, copic markers, watercolors, and a black gel pen.

"Mom"oirs

I had an upset tummy after a lunch out with my co-workers yesterday, so I decided to sit upon the potty when I got home and read my Art Journaling magazine. I'd been in the bathroom mere moments when there was a knocking on the door.

Claire: Can we take the dog for a walk?
Me: Yes.

Another minute goes by and another knock.

Claire: Where is the leash?
Me: Hanging in the hall closet.

And then her voice through the door.
"Did you know that discombobulated is really a word?"
Are you KIDDING me?

Winter

These are the days I hate in the Northwest.
Gray and brown. Not a drop of sunshine.
Everyone bundled against the bone-chilling cold.
Temperature right at freezing with fog in the air that I know will make slick driving later on.

So we go to the mall and put $2.00 in a machine so the boy can withstand the winds of a hurricane, as if we're not even tired of the weather.
It's warm in the mall and there's gluten-free pizza to eat.
But thinking of hurricanes makes me homesick.
Yes, we had to criss-cross masking tape on the windows in case the wind got out of hand, but at least we knew the eye was coming and more often than not a wave of beautiful weather when the storm cleared.
I wonder if Ben has the South in his DNA.

"Mom"oirs

Dear Family,

My sincerest apologies for the garishly green hue of your intimate white underthings.

Love,
Me

Today

Outside my window is sunshine and birdsong.
I am thinking how good these new caramel Sweet & Salty Bugles taste.
I am thankful for love.
In the kitchen there's a solar-powered dancing flower on my window sill.
I am wearing blue jeans, and a black fleece pullover. And socks.
I am creating artist trading cards with a theme of love and/or red.
I am going to pick Ben up from school in an hour.
I am reading Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson.
I am hoping my job interview will go smoothly next week.
I am hearing the clanking of metal on metal as the guinea pigs drink water.
Around the house are many signs that we are a busy family of four.
One of my favorite things is reading to Ben before bed each night.

A few plans for the rest of the week include attending a lecture by Greg Mortensen and a gathering of artists to learn bookbinding.