So I was walking out in the park today. There is a nice long trail that takes you through the woods and such. As B and I were walking along the trail, we saw many interesting things.
First were the squirrels. Normally, squirrels aren't all that interesting, at least not for me. Today though, it was what these squirrels were fighting over. They were fighting over a cheeseburger.
Then we passed a family that seemed to be out for a little picnic. They had the basket, the bikes, the songs... the only thing they seemed to be missing? Their kids! The pair, not more than four or five years old, had stopped on the trail to look at some wildflowers without any of the adults noticing, including the guy pulling their wagon.
Next odd thing we came to on the trail today wasn't actually on the trail, but rather in the creek off to the side. We stopped, like we normally do, to look at the geese who have stopped at a certain bend in the creek. Two of the geese this afternoon must have been in a particularly festive mood, because they had on bright blue collars. I'm not sure whether it was a tracking device, or simply some piece of trash that got caught around their necks. Either way, it was a bit odd to see that bright blue among all the gray and white.
On the way home, we spotted a man jogging the other way. Well, I guess he was jogging before we spotted him, but certainly not after the spectacular face-plant he managed to pull by tripping over a branch across the trail.
All in all, it made for quite an interesting walk.
Saturday, February 27
Wednesday, February 24
Social Security
We went to the Social Security office today. We had to drive for thirty minutes, wait in line for two hours. And for what? to talk to some guy for three minutes. It wouldn't have even taken that long, but he misspelled my name and got my address wrong.
Feel secure yet, folks? As soon as I have my own home, I will be burying a big box of money in the backyard. Sorry, but I just don't feel like the government has been taking care of my security that well.
Feel secure yet, folks? As soon as I have my own home, I will be burying a big box of money in the backyard. Sorry, but I just don't feel like the government has been taking care of my security that well.
Tuesday, February 23
Breaking the Bank
B (my son) got a piggybank when he was born. My husband and I picked it out one lazy summer's trip to Toys R Us.
It was selected from dozens as we browsed through the shelves. Most were personalized, had the most common of names written out in pastel, gummy letters on the side. The only one with his name was purple, which my husband though was too "ridiculous" a color for such a masculine bank.
So we chose the red pig, with race cars and flags flying high. My father-in-law (an avid fan of NASCAR) was thrilled, and bestowed the first quarter in its hungry little belly.
This afternoon, when I came home, B was naked as the babe he is, playing in the bouncer. it shakes violently, wobbling with the exuberance of youth, as he stretched his arms to embrace the air before him, begging for hugs.
He wanted to play, but I was tired and in need of refreshment. So I grab the first thing at hand... the piggybank.
I plunked it down on the edge of his saucer, to see how he would react. I never expected him to react as he did.
His eyes lit up. They sparkled with absolute delight. He straightened his back, threw his head out in front, and sucked in his pudgy little belly. He stuck his chest out and shook like a leaf. And then... he snatched at the piggy, and squealed with glee.
The floor itself vibrated with the intensity of his bouncing. He wobbled and wiggled and wormed that poor little pig around and around. until, of course, he pushed it over the edge to fall to its noisy demise.
He looked at the pig, its lifeblood of change strewn out on the floor, one little eye rolling around, and then he turned to me, confusion on his face.
I picked up the red little pig, collected his pennies, and returned him to the bouncer, and the drama began again.
It was selected from dozens as we browsed through the shelves. Most were personalized, had the most common of names written out in pastel, gummy letters on the side. The only one with his name was purple, which my husband though was too "ridiculous" a color for such a masculine bank.
So we chose the red pig, with race cars and flags flying high. My father-in-law (an avid fan of NASCAR) was thrilled, and bestowed the first quarter in its hungry little belly.
This afternoon, when I came home, B was naked as the babe he is, playing in the bouncer. it shakes violently, wobbling with the exuberance of youth, as he stretched his arms to embrace the air before him, begging for hugs.
He wanted to play, but I was tired and in need of refreshment. So I grab the first thing at hand... the piggybank.
I plunked it down on the edge of his saucer, to see how he would react. I never expected him to react as he did.
His eyes lit up. They sparkled with absolute delight. He straightened his back, threw his head out in front, and sucked in his pudgy little belly. He stuck his chest out and shook like a leaf. And then... he snatched at the piggy, and squealed with glee.
The floor itself vibrated with the intensity of his bouncing. He wobbled and wiggled and wormed that poor little pig around and around. until, of course, he pushed it over the edge to fall to its noisy demise.
He looked at the pig, its lifeblood of change strewn out on the floor, one little eye rolling around, and then he turned to me, confusion on his face.
I picked up the red little pig, collected his pennies, and returned him to the bouncer, and the drama began again.
Mum's the Word Episode: The Beginning
Must admit that blogging my thoughts for the world to see is a bit... distracting.
I have talked with many friends about life, love, relationships, and children. (Unfortunately, they aren't always related to one another.) Among all the conversations, a good friend of mine asked me why I didn't blog.
The question itself surprised me. I had never really thought about it before then. At first, I merely dismissed the concept of speaking to myself for others to see. But then, it sort of made sense.
So, as for the title of my blog, I will admit that it is a seriously bad British-style pun. Oh well.
And now, a word from our sponsors...
I have talked with many friends about life, love, relationships, and children. (Unfortunately, they aren't always related to one another.) Among all the conversations, a good friend of mine asked me why I didn't blog.
The question itself surprised me. I had never really thought about it before then. At first, I merely dismissed the concept of speaking to myself for others to see. But then, it sort of made sense.
So, as for the title of my blog, I will admit that it is a seriously bad British-style pun. Oh well.
And now, a word from our sponsors...
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