conversations with a 2 1/2 year old

Ruthie in the tub, pouring water from a little cup into a bigger cup. Jay and I watching.

R: It's juice, Mommy!
M: Neat, Rootie- is it orange juice or apple juice?
R: It's penguin juice. (very matter-of-factly)
M: Oooh. Wow.
J:Does it have feathers in it?
R:Yes!
J: Does it have beaks in it?
R: No, just feathers.

It's a miracle!

Before: AAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!





After:Thank you, Morgan!



Listen up all you sleepy housewives who wear makeup once a week, you bleary eyed working women wearing year old crusty mascara! Morgan Spivey of Mary Kay Cosmetics gave me a new face, and even plucked my eyebrows! She will help you!

poison

The couple approached the huge, pulsating amphitheatre that reeked of beer and sweat. One had misgivings, not being a huge Poison fan, but having enjoyed several of their songs from the late 80s and early 90s. She was expecting some scary die-hard fans all glammed out and ready to rock their heads off. She was expecting some people like herself, just looking to hear some of their favorite songs, ready to have fun. She was expecting her husband to let loose, wave his arms, and scream his head off. Not really, but that's what happened. The smoke was thick as they entered, and they picked their way through the crowd; people dressed to impress, including the bleached blond with the thigh high boots and jean shorts. The shirtless men all slicky with sweat had turned out, and they preyed on the women with their eyes, throwing back their adult beverages with great aplomb. You could see the anticipation in the eyes of the stringy long haired rockers with black shirts and ripped jeans. The increasingly entertained couple walked on. Standing outside the restrooms she spotted one of her high school coaches. He nodded, she nodded and smiled, and he kept walking, pressed into the mass of bodies and unable or unwilling to come over and strike up a conversation. Hilarious, she thought. The couple kept weaving through the crowd, finally finding their section, when one of their names was called. He turned and saw two people from his hometown, now married, calling his name. They are a similar couple, half of the couple knows all the words from the old Poison albums, and half knows some. They sat and chatted and the concert began. It was high energy and the couple was swept up into the excitement of the crowd and the amazing displays of wailing guitar talent, relentless drum talent, lights, flames and smoke on the stage. They watched the girl in front of them who wore pink knee high striped socks and danced as if the world was coming to an end. They sang every word to the songs they knew and generally acted as people do at a great rock concert. Fallen Angel, Something to Believe In, I Won't Forget You, Look What the Cat Dragged In, some great covers, and then the moment she'd been waiting for, Every Rose Has it's Thorn, one of her favorite songs. If only she'd had a lighter. The couple walked out of the amphitheatre behind the big woman with the pink mini-shorts that read poison across the butt, trying to ignore her wedgie, and the fact that her shorts were two-sizes too small. Next year the couple will know how to dress.

sell this house

Well, it is official. Our house is on the market. I'm not going to wax sentimental about this sweet house, I just know it is time to move, and I hope we can sell quickly and profitably. I will wax sentimental later, I know, because so much life has been lived in this house, but not now. As for the next house, we haven't found it yet, but we're looking.

fridge poetry

Yesterday I stripped my fridge of all it's kitschy decor: magnets, Ruthie's artwork, photos, clippings, comics etc. It is a heavy bag of stuff. Now my fridge looks naked and very white. One of my favorite things on my fridge was my fridge poetry-hundreds of words that you can put together to say things. I can get lost standing in front of the fridge rearranging, hunting, pondering and creating for longer time periods than I am willing to admit. I grew attached to some of our favorites so I thought I'd write them down and share them:

those shadows could chain them
leave their bitter road
smooth the frantic storm
with the light



rock you delirious goddess moon



your love is what I ache for



when tv is out tell a thousand lies



eat chocolate death symphony



heave after smelling his ugly facial sweat



whispering weak in love language



together think about blue blood show swim
after asking the purple sky



she is a true easy friend



crying boy wants mothers breast juice
she wants sleep
aaaah...milk drool


we sing away for sweet her


a retreat in winter please

(Those last three were from my newborn days with Mac. There were many months when Ruthie had to have us sing "Away in a Manger" every night at bedtime.)

A Day in Fairhope, Alabama

keep it frigerated

I pulled up beside this refrigerator today. The sign on it says, "Take Me."