7.31.2009
the easy and beautiful truth
7.30.2009
50 more delightful words
Thistle.
Juju.
Aphrodisiac.
Pigment.
Chortle.
Gladiola.
Quidditch.
Pirouette.
Heliotrope.
Axis.
Glum.
Maple.
Skeletal.
Turnstile.
Homogeny.
Gringo.
Alabaster.
Nerd.
Sulking.
Hulking.
Reptilian.
Oddity.
Udder.
Utter.
Belial.
Pander.
Wick.
Earnest.
Orange.
Falter.
Jujitsu.
Pocket.
Snorkel.
Mast.
Crowbar.
Didgeridoo.
Unequivocal.
Speculate.
Rouge.
Bayou.
Dainty.
Clasp.
Spore.
Coronation.
Clobber.
Marmalade.
Magistrate.
Iron.
Subjugate.
7.29.2009
7.22.2009
good things
Still working on the laundry mounds!
Internet intermittently returning at home! Whoop Whoo!
Budding artichokes! I’m soooo jealous!
Baseballlllllllllll games!
When he makes me food.
When I make breakfast.
Being part of Jennifer’s family birthdays. <3
Getting to slug the shit out of the second pinata!
The new splash fountains (Riverfront and River Road Park)! Yayyy free places for kiddoes to get wet!
Soft serve! Hot damn you amaze me!
Exclamation points!
Homemade ice cream (yes, I still think of it!)
<333333333
Blueberry picking? (it seems like such a charming thing to do…right? we’ll see tonight, j&j!)
The smell of tomato plants.
Cucumber plants and their enormous leaves.
Eating sooooo much salad: greens, beets, carrot chips, sunflower seeds, broccoli, red peppers, pineapple, dried cranberries, cheese, and sometimes grilled chicken.
Picking up where we left off (you know, if we had left off in a really good place). :)
Coming home to lil’ nude babes splashing around in the pool.
Not looking for more things to occupy my time.
Enjoying this new thing called easy, drama-free living. Its nectar is sweeeeet!
Despite a stuffy home, still being madly in love with the sun.
Getting on top of this canker sore issue: could it have been diet soda this whole time? Weird!
Always making these lists to remind myself how good life can really be.
The music V introduces me to! Uh! Yeeeeahhhhhh! Uh! Uhhhh!
Adding to my dream garden.
7.21.2009
50 more words of fabulousness
Pheromone.
Barracuda.
Cubic.
Recoil.
Kefir.
Parcel.
Haberdashery.
Doe.
Finagle.
Cajole.
Ostrich.
Druthers.
Tattoo.
Yacht.
Anvil.
Cleave.
Liquorice.
Opossum.
Seamstress.
Charming.
Harlot.
Barometer.
Spool.
Stark.
Troubadour.
Margarine.
Penmanship.
Autumnal.
Eulogy.
Effigy.
Turquoise.
Molasses.
Pivot.
Basil.
Grimy.
Polka.
Salamander.
Drum.
Hoedown.
Harangue.
Guffaw.
Plasma.
Quicken.
Amok.
Speckled.
Infuriated.
Kleptomaniac.
Glazed.
Gasoline.
Gymnastics.
7.17.2009
you don't have to admit you want to play (dance with me)
- good music, i love you!
- snalking snhe snay snails snalk (snail language! <3)
- shuffleboard (have i finally found my game?)
- *finally* realizing it was true what they said about quality over quantity
- soulful gchatting at work (teehee!)
- beer pong, badminton, and cards (GAWDDDD summer's gooooooood!)
- having pumpkin envy
- hannah's face all growin' up
- driving a stick shift
- clemmen' choosing to snuggle her papa
- two of my FAVORITE ladies having birthdays!
- friday happylistmaking!
- my tall jar filled to the brim with love and blueberry jam!
7.14.2009
dancing deadhead babies
My parents were Deadheads. Being a Deadhead wasn’t merely *liking The Grateful Dead* it was a lifestyle.
Every Friday night there was ‘Dead Hour’ (or was it Dead Hours??) on the radio and they would tape it. My mom bought these special (or maybe she made them??) tape jackets with little dancing bears around the borders. They were in these strange pastel colors (I mean really, could they not be tie-dyed?). She’d write the names of each song on the tape jackets, and in the Grateful Dead stickered car they’d go. Ninety percent of our driving music for at least seven or eight years of my life was Dead music. By the time I was eight I think I started making a fuss about it.
I had my own organic relationship with The Grateful Dead. When I was five or six a friend of mine came over and witnessed the inundation of hippyness at my home. My mom didn’t really ‘look’ like a hippy Monday through Friday, eight to five. It was really her afterhours genuine self that lived and breathed the Dead. I remember being somewhat embarrassed about it, but I wasn’t quite sure why. You know that feeling when you know that your parents aren’t *quite* like the other parents…I had that feeling a lot. When I was young I felt fairly sheepish about it. By the time I was 7 or 8 had pretty much stuck my nose up at my parents’ preferred music and tried to get them to listen to Madonna or the Culture Club. I did have some success with Michael Jackson! My mom quickly bought Thriller on cassette telling me that she had listened to him sing since he was a little boy. When I got to high school, and realized that even some normal(ish) people listened to the Grateful Dead I reconsidered my distance. I dug out a pair of my mom’s tie-dyed pants and started rocking them at school. You know me…I can rock it all – it’s just a costume, right? Once I reintegrated it into my life I honestly felt like I accepted my parents more, and understood some of the hippyness I had witnessed.
I think I usually say I’ve been to dozens of shows, but my dad doesn’t think I made it to more than a six or so, but that just can’t be right. Regardless, they were all special times. The shows that I have the fondest memories of were the ones where camping was involved! The atmosphere at these campouts was amazing. My brother (three years older) and I would run around buying $1 friendship bracelets and 50¢ burritos. I’d make friends with people and they’d let me play their bongos or let me draw on their feet. I knew even then, that under normal circumstances, we never would have had as much freedom as we did amongst Deadheads, but there was something extraordinarily safe and comforting about these people, and loving and understanding.
When the next song came on (which often happens towards the end of the previous song in an amazing blendy way) my father would try to guess the song within the first two or three notes. You could see amongst the sea of wild dancers who the hardcore nerdy ones were because they would be scribbling with a pencil in those first few moments. It would take the rest of us a much longer time before we could even throw out a possibility. Once I found out that they usually alternated between “Jerry songs” and “Bobby songs” my accuracy increased! Guessing the songs was never as fun as watching the mass of crazy dancers though.
The peculiar wild Deadhead dances epitomize the essence of being your own person, unabashedly. I think that freedom of inhibition, even if it was primarily drug induced for most of the crowd impacted me. It’s probably stayed with me and given me the ridiculousness that allows me to shamelessly dance on chairs! I remember laughing at both kinds of dances and then more or less mimicking them myself. There’s the cosmic-slow-flowy dance where your arms are out and smoothly flying through the sky…with your head cocked to a 45 degree angle, your eyes closed, and you just sway in a daze. Then there’s the wild-flowery-bouncy-jig! That’s the one where you’re all bobble-heady, and your arms are all over the place, your wrists turn around this way and that, and your knees never stop bouncing. Some of the wilder ones throw in some little kicks as well.
Dancing is ingrained, you see? It’s in my blood like cards and baseball!
7.10.2009
hearting the world in a big freaking way
2. county fairs - the kids, the animals, the elephant ears!
3. having the best friends in the universe - old ones, old ones you thought that were lost forever but were actually there all along, and the new itty bitty ones, and all you lovable rascals in between!
4. the garden of luscious love! - brocooli getting bigger, peppers growing, passion flower coming back to life!
5. parties parties parties!
6. reading
7. love
7.09.2009
i have a flower garden dream...
This could be a list of fantastic words, but it’s not. It’s really the beginning (teehee!) of my ultimate dream garden. I am sticking to the outside right now. Eventually I’ll have lists for flowers in the pond, flowers inside, trees I want to have, herbs, and…of course flowers for the greenhouse! It’s become my new lil’ pornography, just imagining all these amazing flowers and thinking of having them around me every day…well every day in the summer at least. To help you imagine with me, I’ve linked images of some of the dreamiest examples of these flowers… C’mon everyone, sigh with me…
7.08.2009
53 fantastic words!
Inferno.
Trivial.
Pedestrian.
Perforate.
Trident.
Flunk.
Kindred.
Quip.
Snorkel.
Stromboli.
Mittens.
Tarantula.
Molecular.
Nebulous.
Hewn.
Jive.
Drake.
Clove.
Principality.
Unscrupulous.
Decipher.
Macabre.
Oleander.
Plight.
Uvula.
Interloper.
Knockwurst.
Niche.
Pander.
Meander.
Google.
Dale.
Willow.
Spruce.
Sultan.
Flamenco.
Fulcrum.
Caramelize.
Proletariat.
Propaganda.
Plausible.
Putty.
Limber.
Yonder.
Saunter.
Pulpit.
Judiciary.
Mingle.
Overture.
Dew.
Capricious.
Prophetic.
7.07.2009
7.06.2009
glimpses of goodness
home for two lil' bunnies we're getting!
scarlet begonia!
hollyhock of heavennnnn!
beans are SO satisfying to grow!
broccoli from seed, i love you!
from my garden! whoooop whoooop! transplanted from brandy's garden. i really wasn't expecting them to bloom, but color me pink!
