Monday, January 10, 2011

Back to Reality

...And just like that (whatever that is), we were thrown back into life and SCHEDULE.

The college kids have returned, so our town just gained an extra 45,000 people.  Teaching starts up this week, and goes into full swing next week.  Sadly, I can't see my class list, so tomorrow will be a pleasant Forest Gumpian box of chocolates surprise.  High School has resumed with a vengeance, and there is simultaneous preparation for finals (2 weeks), exams (this week), large-scale projects (this time it's an abbreviated film of "The Tempest".  No, I don't understand why), musical performances, competitions, chair-tests, lessons, homework, and a Sadie Hawkins dance thrown in for good measure.

January has become the new December!

On the plus side, I walked out of work at 5:15pm today and it wasn't pitch black outside, I managed not to shove any junk food down my gullet, and by all indications, I'll be in bed before midnight.  I'll call that a win any day of the week.

Oh, and did I mention it's really, really COLD?  (I know.  January.  Duh)
My feet are very grateful that I brought in the reinforcements.  (BooYAH!)


 Warm Woolen


Back to Reality

...And just like that (whatever that is), we were thrown back into life and SCHEDULE.

The college kids have returned, so our town just gained an extra 45,000 people.  Teaching starts up this week, and goes into full swing next week.  Sadly, I can't see my class list, so tomorrow will be a pleasant Forest Gumpian box of chocolates surprise.  High School has resumed with a vengeance, and there is simultaneous preparation for finals (2 weeks), exams (this week), large-scale projects (this time it's an abbreviated film of "The Tempest".  No, I don't understand why), musical performances, competitions, chair-tests, lessons, homework, and a Sadie Hawkins dance thrown in for good measure.

January has become the new December!

On the plus side, I walked out of work at 5:15pm today and it wasn't pitch black outside, I managed not to shove any junk food down my gullet, and by all indications, I'll be in bed before midnight.  I'll call that a win any day of the week.

Oh, and did I mention it's really, really COLD?  (I know.  January.  Duh)
My feet are very grateful that I brought in the reinforcements.  (BooYAH!)


 Warm Woolen


Thursday, January 06, 2011

Say Cheese





Toddlers toddle.
Teenagers text.
Tweens bounce like super balls
from this group to next.



Years pass too quickly,
and days pass too slow,
So we pull out the camera
wherever we go.



No matter the reason,
No matter the rhyme,
We do all that we can
to try to freeze time.




But toddlers toddle,
and teenagers text.
And tweens bounce like super balls
from this group to next.






Say Cheese





Toddlers toddle.
Teenagers text.
Tweens bounce like super balls
from this group to next.



Years pass too quickly,
and days pass too slow,
So we pull out the camera
wherever we go.



No matter the reason,
No matter the rhyme,
We do all that we can
to try to freeze time.




But toddlers toddle,
and teenagers text.
And tweens bounce like super balls
from this group to next.






Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails


What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of!"


There are times that I think if someone could harness the energy of a five-year old, our dependency on oil or coal or corn or sun or wind would no longer be necessary. Not only that, anyone exposed to five-year old energy would no longer need anti-depressants, therapy, chocolate or Dr. Phil.  And, if you found yourself in the presence of an energetic, happy five-year old, you would no longer be obligated to participate in shallow, polite conversation or deep, divisive debate.  The five-year old will run the conversation, happily bouncing from story to story, complete with demonstrations and uproarious laughter that usually demands the story start all over again... and again... and again. 



And then there is the faithful friend.  You can count on him to nudge you for a scritch-scratch behind the ears, a chin on your knee when he's sure you have something tasty to share, or a toy at your feet when it's time to play.  Whether sitting quietly by your side or curled up nearby in a bed, he is a calming presence.  Someone you can rely on.  A protector and a friend.

The poem said that little boys are made of "snips and snails and puppy dog tails."  I don't know how much of that is true (especially considering that, according to the poem, little girls are made of "sugar and spice and everything nice") but the boy and his dog are certainly two sides of the same coin.  Full of life, full of love, full of adventures.  A joy, a handful, a friend.

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails


What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of!"


There are times that I think if someone could harness the energy of a five-year old, our dependency on oil or coal or corn or sun or wind would no longer be necessary. Not only that, anyone exposed to five-year old energy would no longer need anti-depressants, therapy, chocolate or Dr. Phil.  And, if you found yourself in the presence of an energetic, happy five-year old, you would no longer be obligated to participate in shallow, polite conversation or deep, divisive debate.  The five-year old will run the conversation, happily bouncing from story to story, complete with demonstrations and uproarious laughter that usually demands the story start all over again... and again... and again. 



And then there is the faithful friend.  You can count on him to nudge you for a scritch-scratch behind the ears, a chin on your knee when he's sure you have something tasty to share, or a toy at your feet when it's time to play.  Whether sitting quietly by your side or curled up nearby in a bed, he is a calming presence.  Someone you can rely on.  A protector and a friend.

The poem said that little boys are made of "snips and snails and puppy dog tails."  I don't know how much of that is true (especially considering that, according to the poem, little girls are made of "sugar and spice and everything nice") but the boy and his dog are certainly two sides of the same coin.  Full of life, full of love, full of adventures.  A joy, a handful, a friend.

Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Time After Time


Time and I are having some issues.

I would like to sit down and compose a complete thought.
No time.

I would like to sit down and read a few pages in a book.
No time.

I would like to go outside and enjoy real live fresh air.
No time.

I would like my dishes done, my house cleaned and my sanity still in tact.
No time.

I could go on and on, but I won't. I'm sure you get the idea. And yet, as much as I'm sure nearly everyone can relate to my dilemma, I still feel guilty about whining at all. Are all these things possible, and am I just a bad-choice-making machine? Honestly, my days are packed. I run from job to job, from event to event, and from appointment to appointment. It's not like I'm sitting at home eating bon-bons all night. I am very aware of what I'm missing, and more importantly, what I could do, given my time constraints.

Tomorrow I get to rest in a very automotive sort of way. Some might cringe at the thought of an all-day drive, but I rather like them. The weather should be good and holiday traffic shouldn't be an issue. The drive gives you a chance to sit still, to chat, to exercise your trivial cortex, to listen to some tunes, and
enjoy the change of scenery.

Today may have been frantic, but tomorrow?
I have nothing but time.




Photo of the Day

Whiskers on Kittens

I was fooling around with the Retro Camera app on my Droid, and I thought I'd try it on my giant furball.  She's an odd cat in so many ways -- her coloring is very unique, she doesn't meow so much as squawk, much like a needy pterodactyl.  She will bring a mouthful of dinner and dump it on the ground so she is closer to the nearest human.  She doesn't start any kitten rumbles, but she sure as heck finishes them all.  Her full name is Gabriella, but Gabby says it all.
 

Time After Time


Time and I are having some issues.

I would like to sit down and compose a complete thought.
No time.

I would like to sit down and read a few pages in a book.
No time.

I would like to go outside and enjoy real live fresh air.
No time.

I would like my dishes done, my house cleaned and my sanity still in tact.
No time.

I could go on and on, but I won't. I'm sure you get the idea. And yet, as much as I'm sure nearly everyone can relate to my dilemma, I still feel guilty about whining at all. Are all these things possible, and am I just a bad-choice-making machine? Honestly, my days are packed. I run from job to job, from event to event, and from appointment to appointment. It's not like I'm sitting at home eating bon-bons all night. I am very aware of what I'm missing, and more importantly, what I could do, given my time constraints.

Tomorrow I get to rest in a very automotive sort of way. Some might cringe at the thought of an all-day drive, but I rather like them. The weather should be good and holiday traffic shouldn't be an issue. The drive gives you a chance to sit still, to chat, to exercise your trivial cortex, to listen to some tunes, and
enjoy the change of scenery.

Today may have been frantic, but tomorrow?
I have nothing but time.




Photo of the Day

Whiskers on Kittens

I was fooling around with the Retro Camera app on my Droid, and I thought I'd try it on my giant furball.  She's an odd cat in so many ways -- her coloring is very unique, she doesn't meow so much as squawk, much like a needy pterodactyl.  She will bring a mouthful of dinner and dump it on the ground so she is closer to the nearest human.  She doesn't start any kitten rumbles, but she sure as heck finishes them all.  Her full name is Gabriella, but Gabby says it all.
 

Monday, January 03, 2011

986 Words Short




Late Night Picture Show


Scan Sort Rename Save
Fiddle Fudge Fade In Fade Out
Test Sigh Smile Repeat

986 Words Short




Late Night Picture Show


Scan Sort Rename Save
Fiddle Fudge Fade In Fade Out
Test Sigh Smile Repeat

Sunday, January 02, 2011

Sunday Roundup


I say ... And You Think:

1.  Carwash :: Workin' at the....
2.  Intuition :: Women's
3.  Desperate :: Housewives
4.  Tears :: On my pillow
5.  Purple :: Rain
6.  Storage :: Never enough
7.  Duct :: Tape
8.  System :: Manner
9.  Cabinet :: Does Anybody Like Theirs?
10. Manager :: An often useless and redundant position of very little importance to anybody except the person who holds it.


Aside from several song references and one television series that I never watched (I'm unsure whether it was because I wasn't Desperate or I wasn't a Housewife or I really didn't care all that much...OK, option 3), I have to ask: does anybody ever have enough storage, and does anybody like their kitchen cabinets?  These questions seem to go hand in hand, and I know that whenever someone is either complaining OR bragging about their kitchen, it usually involves kitchen cabinets and storage.  They are either ugly or awesome, woefully insignificant or much better, too dark, wonderfully rich, too washed out, light and airy, outdated or sleek and modern.  And don't even get me started on Kitchen counters....

As for #10, what can I say?  I've been one and I've had plenty.  After living on both sides of the fence, I'm still sticking with my answer.


Picture of the Day

Company for dinner


The cat food that's pictured right here
was brought by a feline quite dear.
In my room I was working,
her company shirking.
She fixed that by dining quite near.


Sunday Roundup


I say ... And You Think:

1.  Carwash :: Workin' at the....
2.  Intuition :: Women's
3.  Desperate :: Housewives
4.  Tears :: On my pillow
5.  Purple :: Rain
6.  Storage :: Never enough
7.  Duct :: Tape
8.  System :: Manner
9.  Cabinet :: Does Anybody Like Theirs?
10. Manager :: An often useless and redundant position of very little importance to anybody except the person who holds it.


Aside from several song references and one television series that I never watched (I'm unsure whether it was because I wasn't Desperate or I wasn't a Housewife or I really didn't care all that much...OK, option 3), I have to ask: does anybody ever have enough storage, and does anybody like their kitchen cabinets?  These questions seem to go hand in hand, and I know that whenever someone is either complaining OR bragging about their kitchen, it usually involves kitchen cabinets and storage.  They are either ugly or awesome, woefully insignificant or much better, too dark, wonderfully rich, too washed out, light and airy, outdated or sleek and modern.  And don't even get me started on Kitchen counters....

As for #10, what can I say?  I've been one and I've had plenty.  After living on both sides of the fence, I'm still sticking with my answer.


Picture of the Day

Company for dinner


The cat food that's pictured right here
was brought by a feline quite dear.
In my room I was working,
her company shirking.
She fixed that by dining quite near.