Posts

Showing posts from November, 2009

You Sold Me

In the strange land of reality and make believe I find myself a permanent resident. I like things to be real, yet twisted with an essence of lunacy--the happy kind. Smiling people holding up a bottle of toothpaste; smiling so wide you think a robber is behind them with a six shooter whispering, "Bigger! BIGGER!" And I like catch phrases. Words that aren't cute, but punchy with power forced into each syllable so that when you repeat them, you feel like pop rocks are exploding in your tonsils.

Lately I find myself recalling all those stupid, cheesy songs and images from my youth which told me--on a constant basis--to get my teeth whiter, hair shinier, hands softer, and breath fresher. I could recite them all, almost, if time hadn't crumbled away their perfection like the salt water on the Titanic's railings. So . . . I turn to youtube. Of course. And there they all are; a bell-ringer from my youth, standing on the street corner echoing my very memories.

"…

I'm Paintin' a Pretty Little Bob Ross

I didn't like him at first. With his huge frizzy 'fro and gentle way of talking, I instantly felt myself tuning him out in fear of the retribution I knew would come from most of my contemporaries at school. "You watch Bob Ross? Ahahahahahahaha!" It would be like the day I told my first grade friend I still watched Sesame Street. That's possibly how the rest of my life at school was ruined. Never trust a soul with any important, personal information. Six year olds can make your life hell.
But Bob, he grew on me. It was the summer of my upcoming Junior Year, and I had taken on a job of babysitting the three boys who lived down the next block behind our house out in the country. Chris, Dan, and Robby. I don't know how good of a babysitter I was, but they survived, and not only that, we had fun. We listened to Christmas records, played ball, Super Mario Brothers 3, and every afternoon I'd make chocolate chip cookies. Then down to the basement we'…

My childhood in a box

Every day you hear more and more about how bad TV is for kids, and for the most part I have to agree. Modern TV is really not suitable for little ones. You have crime dramas all over the place, bratty rich teen shows, cartoons like Family Guy and Southpark which are totally not suitable with their sometimes mean spirited sarcasm. Maybe once in a while there's something kid friendly like a Charlie Brown special, but they're few and far between.
When I was a kid the TV always had something we could watch, even if it was just old reruns. I remember racing home from school to watch Gilligan's Island on channel 41--they showed tons of old sitcoms. I'll name the summer list starting from after I'd woken up and had a bowl of Corn Flakes: Laverne and Shirley, Happy Days, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Good Times, The Jefferson's, Leave it to Beaver, The Dick Van Dyke Show, I love Lucy, Green Acres, Petticoat Junction, The Beverly Hillbillies, The Andy Griffith Show, Go…

Castles, Candy, and Cary Grant

Last night I stepped away from writing and decided to have a nothing night, which turned out to be a lot of fun. The kids kept busy running around the house, occasionally using me as a trampoline while I watched Dancing With the Stars. I just needed some time to think about what I really want to do with my book and anything else in the future. I don't know where I fit. Everyone seems to have a niche and all I have is a book of great characters that I love dearly and would do anything for. But since I can't define a genre, I'm kind of screwed. It's almost young adult, but crosses over to novel status. It has romance, and ghostly activity. It's kind of a thriller, kind of suspense. So again, I'm kind of screwed. But I ain't giving up on this book- no way, no how.
So, that's what was going on in my head last night. Julia had her own thing going on. After jumping on mom time was over, she sat at the little kid's desk here in the study where…

My kid loves Martha Stewart

Martha had a "Good things and Bad Things" Halloween Special on, and my kid got hooked. I don't know how many times she has watched it, but I know I personally have it memorized. Eyeball, Highball. That's where you take radishes, shave them and inset olives into a little scooped out section, then freeze them in ice cube trays. Julia went out to the garden and pulled out every last radish then started an assembly line. She was so excited about her radish eyeballs--which, by the way--start to stink after a few hours in a glass of water. Yuck. Martha doesn't tell you that stuff.
Then there is the pumpkin snake. Martha gets a billion pumpkins--probably from her own garden--and assembles them in a huge snake like pattern with a serpent head at the front, lights strung throughout. Pretty cool, only, when we went to the store to get some pumpkins, they were all sold out. Julia was bummed out about that for awhile.
Now Martha has a Thanksgiving special with a Chr…

I refuse to turn back my clocks

I dunno. I guess I just get sick of being told what to do. Maybe because as a mom I do everything for everyone all the time and just when I had things figured out, we alter time. I like my time the way it is. Get up at 7:00 with the sun still coming up over the trees, eat lunch when the shadows are laying all over the back wall from the sun standing behind our maples, have a cup of tea just when twilight is starting to dance around on the fence tops . . .
So here's the plan. When everyone else is existing in this strange universe altered by a whole hour, I'll be one hour ahead. It'll give me the ultimate power. I'll know everything first, see everything first. When I show up to an event an hour "late" and receive nasty looks, I'll just say, "What? YOU guys were early." Okay, I know it sounds ridiculous, and rude, but how rude is it to make sure all my mornings will now be so bright that both of my kids and the dog and the cat are now g…