things that make you go "hmm"...

Right, then.

Is there really any wonder where I got this? Old sweetney post.

oh the cheese

So, I figured that Pic is old enough, and sensible enough, to sit down and watch The New Adventures of Pippi Longstocking and enjoy it. She did seem to enjoy it, at times. The other times? "I hope this is over. It's making my tummy hurt."



Really, how Peecho and I watched this so freaking many times when we were little, I have no idea. Do kids not have discerning palates when it comes to anything? We eat stuff like macaroni and cheese from a box. Oh, and hot dogs. Or, in my case Vienna sausages (hello choking hazards). We watch stuff like the above-mentioned movie (which, I myself, was alternately enjoying and, well, not-so-much enjoying) and Care Bears.

Okay, so I still don't have a well-developed sense of taste where anything is concerned, but I've moved past some things I never thought I'd give up when I was just a little girl. Ah, well.

Speaking of cheese, though [see: the second cake down]. I totally don't get why the Cheez-Whiz. Oh, this does remind me, though, that I had a scarily alcoholic aquaintance when I first moved to college who was especially fond of cheese-in-a-can. It took me ages to figure out just what that was. I suppose that all of that beer deadens the taste-buds, maybe.

Oh, and there's been a lot of this lately in La Casa B. Seriously, has anyone seen the beginning of this (I don't think I've ever read Monsieur Andersen's tale). Out of a flower springs a fully-grown, albeit tiny, woman who speaks English and greets the first creature (a woman) she sees with "Hello, Mother." Um. Okay. I have to admit, though, that the songs are kind of catchy. I don't understand all of the intent on cross-species marriage, though.



It's incredibly cute to listen to Pic sing along with this.

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P.S. It took me incredibly too long to realize that Jodi Benson is the voice of Thumbelina.

from the mouth of the babe

Me: How old will you be on your next birthday?

Pic: Uh...[killer cute smile on face] I don't know.

Me: How old are you now?

Pic: FREE YEARS OLD!

Me: What comes after three?

Pic: FREE-AND-A-HAF!

Pure genius, people.

i resolve

Okay, so resolutions aren't my forte. I'm sure they aren't many people's, in fact. However, I have made one pseudo-resolution for this year: work on the freaking 101/1001. Yeah, I haven't looked at it in a while, but I will be looking at it again soon...I hope.

Oh, okay, let me make another resolution: pay off the hospital bill from Cardo's stay. We just got the bill. We just got my freaking credit cards paid off (that was a fun almost-decade) and now it's like we have another one. So, $200-a-month forever...ugh. However, I'm really not complaining (you thought I was didn't you...okay, maybe I was, but I desist). I still have my loverly partner, so I'll take the bill, thank you.

Felice Anno Nuovo! Happy New Year! Feliz Año Nuevo! Please be safe.

procrasti...nation

Okay, so I'm finally getting around to responding to the meme sent me by Coach J. I'll respond, but I won't pass it on to others. Rather, I'll leave an open invitation to any who desire to share with the group. (This is mainly because most of the people I know with blogs have been tagged by J already. It is also because I'm so weirdly bad at asking others to do things.)

The rules (most of which I will ignore):

Here are "the rules":

1.Link to the person who tagged you.
2.Post the rules on your blog.
3.Write six random things about yourself.
4.Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5.Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6.Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Here goes:

1. When I'm reading something and the number of words in a phrase is mentioned, I always have to count the words, just to be sure. So, if I read "'The baby isn't yours!' she screamed and those four words echoed in his head," I have to count the four words she screamed. [Don't ask why the example. Nothing autobiographical, thanks much.]

2. Every time a bird flies over my head, I feel compelled to look up at it. However, every time I do this, my first thought is always, "That bird is going to crap on my upturned face." To date, I have not had a bird defecate on my face (or any other body part, that I can recall, at least). [I just knocked on my wooden desk. I also just typed "wooded." Yes, on my desk grows a tiny forest...or not.]

3. I sometimes wear my wedding ring on my right hand -- as I'm doing now -- because I just don't feel balanced if my ring is always on my left hand.

4. I have this weird inability to give up old favorites. It's like I feel like a traitor or something. For example, for a long time The Little Mermaid was my favorite Disney animated flick. [Oh, powers that be, I just typed "was."] I really think it had a lot to do with the fact that Ariel is also a redhead. However, interweb, I'm admitting to you, for the first time outside of my head, that The Little Mermaid is no longer my favorite animated Disney flick. Beauty and the Beast is. I so much more identify with Belle who could read for millions of hours on end. And, when the Beast (who never gets a real name), presents her with his library...that's what I'm talkin' about. [I refuse to acknowledge anything more than the existence of sequels and prequels and in-the-middle-quels of Disney flicks. They can bite me.]

5. I have a collection of saved Simplicity patterns in a desktop file even though I can't sew. Well, I think I can't at least. I learned this fine craft about a decade ago. My very own mamma is set to teach me after I crawl up out of the blackness that will be next semester, though. Maybe I'll have a tangible purpose for those patterns in the end.

6. I can sing the entire theme song to Charles in Charge without prompting. So the singing isn't pretty, but that doesn't change the fact that I know the words. I have no idea why this theme song has stuck in my head over the years, but it has.




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P.S. The strange thing is that I wrote out responses for this back when the semester was still in, but I just didn't get around to typing them up and fleshing them out. Yeah, I'm lazy like that.

loving up the locals

I forgot to mention that Pic and I visited the Arlington Gardens Mall for the first time last week. We were looking for gifts for her teachers and didn't find anything suitable-seeming at Sundance (I have no idea what they enjoy reading in their free time). I was heading over to Target after that, but, on impulse, I decided that we should check out the Arlington mall, first, just in case. We ended up buying a personalized tree ornament and a lovely-sized, cute coffee mug for each of her teachers. The prices were good, but, even better, the service was excellent.

The woman who runs (owns?) Wedding Style had another little shop in front where she was selling seasonal merchandise. She was excellent with Pic. (Too often, people are quick to rush over and admonish her for thinking about touching something. "Back off people. If she breaks it, I'll pay for it. She's curious, but amazingly gentle.") We left Pic's teachers' names and then walked around a bit. The sign said the wait would be an hour, but the shopkeeper halved the time (business wasn't exactly booming on a weekday, two days before Christtide). The mall is tiny, maybe four shops and and restaurant, but I'm pretty sure we'll go back when we need more gifts. We went to the spa-shop-place (I can't quite remember exactly what it was, obviously) in the back and the woman working the desk bestowed Pic with two faerie* kisses, one on her hand (that had been earlier stamped by the lovely Ms Judy from storytime) and one on her cheek. Pic was ecstatic about this. We bought a faerie pen there.

We went back to pick up the ornaments and ended up also buying the mugs and a couple of holiday cards there.

The shopkeeper's middle-school-aged son was off school for winter break and he was helping out in the store. He had fantastic manners. He was polite to both me and Pic and I'd love if Pic ends up nearly as nice as he is. The shopkeeper (sorry, I don't know her name) discreetly asked if Pic could have a candy cane treat and I said yes. I was expecting one of those mini candy canes, but Pic was given a Christmas-tree-shaped candy cane confection that had a gummy Santa perched on top. It was the size of an ornament.

I like Target okay, but local's definitely better and, in this case, local's definitely and tremendously way better. I'd recommend a stop there if you feel so inclined to buy someone a gift...or plan a wedding.

* Ah, Spenser.

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P.S. I'll post pictures as soon as I figure out how to do this. I'm not sure where the camera cable thing is, nor am I sure that I'll be successful with the transfer.

P.P.S. Her name is Roxana! I'm a genius. Or, I looked up the mall with the mind-numbingly easy Google. Yeah.

supermamma strikes again

So, because I'm weirdly, morbidly thinking about death again a lot lately, I bought The Berenstain Bears Lose a Friend at Sundance today. And then, I read it to Pic tonight. Why I thought this would be a decent idea, I'm not exactly sure. I'm not really sure how you introduce the topic to a three-year-old...especially when no one close to us has recently died.

She was upset about what had happened to the fish (pet-death, not bear-friend-death) and she insisted that I reread certain parts to her a couple of extra times. It is usually the case that after I read a book to her, she peruses it herself, but this perusal was different, more intent. She repeatedly asked me, "What happened?" and "Why?" I told her that Goldie had died and it was just a natural part of the cycle of life. I explained to her what I think happens after the we that we currently are die (dies? I've confused myself here with the singular/plural agreement...is "the we" singular?). She just kept asking me, "Why?"

And, I have no really good answers for her. I get into this obsessive trip about death and my fears sometimes overwhelm me. Occasionally, I have this weird apprehension that, hey, what if I'm dead already and I just don't realize it? I can never satisfactorily answer this for myself, though.

Anyhow, I explained as well as I could and then we read Amelia Bedelia and the Christmas List (not as good as the classic Amelia Bedelia books, but it worked well enough). Regardless, Pic's probably having nightmares right now. I'm a fantabulous mamma, I know.

By the way, though, she did not react nearly as strongly to Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs (one of my favorite books from when I was little...I was strangely drawn to it).

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In somewhat related non-news, I'm currently rereading Thomas Tryon's The Other.* It's probably been almost a decade since I last read it. This might have something to do with the sombre mood.


In totally unrelated non-news, the "Knowledge Center" said** I owed it $75. The next e-mail from the "KC" was an oops-just-kidding one and thanks be because I already have a special dislike for the home of EMERAC.


* Get a load of the price tag on this. Perhaps I should sell mine after I finish it again. Eh, it's not that nice, though...just a musty old paperback (my favorite kind for pleasure-reading).

**Because, you know, it can send out e-mails. Either that, or I can occasionally employ synedoche...even if I pronounced it sin-ek-doshe, for a good few months when I first came across it a few years ago.