A fabulous convention speech. A woman VP nomination. So much has happened in the world of politics over the last few days my head is spinning.
Let's start with Obama's speech at the Democratic National Convention. What an amazing speech he gave! He was impassioned, inspiring, clear on policy differences with the Republicans, and downright evangelical in the desire to restore Americans' sense of pride in ourselves and our country. He is the man!
As for the woman, Sarah Palin, what a bold VP choice by McCain. And, mayhap, somewhat stupid. Now no one can fault Obama for lack of experience because this woman has even less. At first glance a woman VP nomination could be seen as a lure to Hillary voters, but that presupposes women are interchangeable, that it's just having a vagina that matters, which when you think about it is pretty damn sexist. That's the point of view of the guy in the bar who just wants to get laid and doesn't care which woman provides the service, just that he gets some. Heck, in a pinch, even a blow-up doll will do.
McCain went for demographics in his choice, a check-list of attributes he thought would sell his Presidential quest: Woman, check. Conservative, check. Young, check. Middle class, check! There, he thought. That oughta beef up my rich, old, male, partially-conservative candidacy. McCain's that engineer who wants to find a bride and does so by going to match.com and listing attributes, thinking love will find him if he just defines his requirements clearly enough.
Think of it this way, yes, Ms. Palin is a relatively young woman and mother who has sought and achieved a position of political power--good for her. I support her right to go for her goals, but that doesn't mean I want to vote for her. Why not?
Because she's also pro-gun, anti-choice, and a religious conservative who was picked to balance McCain's wavering conservative credentials and appeal to the yahoos who want to stack the Supreme Court with creationists and right-to-lifers. That would be disastrous for this country.
So, while I'm all for supporting women in achieving positions of power, I'm also for being discriminating--as in exercising my considerable analytical abilities to discern differences in policy and position among those too few women who have achieved political power and let me tell you, Sarah is no Hillary. I would never vote for her because of her policy positions, no matter her gender, her age or her ability to wear a swimsuit.
Take that, John McCain!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Days After Graduation
I forgot the most important advice of all for our graduates:
You don't have to have it all figured out right now!
That's it. I remember how important it felt to have plans, and to have those plans be the "right" plans that would ensure my future. It helped to know I was going to college so when everybody asked, "What's next?" I had something to tell them. God forbid I had no answer.
I have since learned, however, that not knowing what's coming next is okay but that took years to figure that out.
Once you're in college the big question is what your major will be; what follows that is the dreaded career question, "What are you going to do with your degree?"
I didn't pick a major until I was a junior in college; I picked English because writing papers was easy for me, all the classes were in the afternoon so I could sleep in, and I thought reading novels was a great way to spend my time whilst in college. I had no career plans except that I wanted to be a writer--I wrote poetry back then--"knew" that was impractical so found some other way to support myself by getting an MA. in Counseling Psychology.
Once I knew I was going to graduate school, I figured I'd answered all the questions about my future that needed answering. I didn't think there was anything more to figure out.
I know, you're laughing, right.
In fact, after college, I spent my twenties just figuring out who I really was and getting massive amounts of therapy to recover from my dysfunctional childhood.
And I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up.
After my husband finished school, his stock answer when asked what he was going to do next was, "I have no plans; I 'm hanging out." He had to practice saying it with a straight face. His other stock answer was, "I'm learning to say, 'Would you like fries with that, ma'am?'"
Graduates, it helps to have a stock answer, even if it's not true. It gets people off your back and gives you the breathing room to sort through your options. You don't need to have it all figured out right after high school. It can help if you have a next step, but you don't have to know what that next step will lead to. If you've learned to listen to your inner voice, then following its guidance--even when you don't know where you'll end up--is the best thing you can do.
To thine own self be true is the wisdom of the ages and it's hard to go wrong with that advice.
Best of luck and happy travels.
You don't have to have it all figured out right now!
That's it. I remember how important it felt to have plans, and to have those plans be the "right" plans that would ensure my future. It helped to know I was going to college so when everybody asked, "What's next?" I had something to tell them. God forbid I had no answer.
I have since learned, however, that not knowing what's coming next is okay but that took years to figure that out.
Once you're in college the big question is what your major will be; what follows that is the dreaded career question, "What are you going to do with your degree?"
I didn't pick a major until I was a junior in college; I picked English because writing papers was easy for me, all the classes were in the afternoon so I could sleep in, and I thought reading novels was a great way to spend my time whilst in college. I had no career plans except that I wanted to be a writer--I wrote poetry back then--"knew" that was impractical so found some other way to support myself by getting an MA. in Counseling Psychology.
Once I knew I was going to graduate school, I figured I'd answered all the questions about my future that needed answering. I didn't think there was anything more to figure out.
I know, you're laughing, right.
In fact, after college, I spent my twenties just figuring out who I really was and getting massive amounts of therapy to recover from my dysfunctional childhood.
And I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up.
After my husband finished school, his stock answer when asked what he was going to do next was, "I have no plans; I 'm hanging out." He had to practice saying it with a straight face. His other stock answer was, "I'm learning to say, 'Would you like fries with that, ma'am?'"
Graduates, it helps to have a stock answer, even if it's not true. It gets people off your back and gives you the breathing room to sort through your options. You don't need to have it all figured out right after high school. It can help if you have a next step, but you don't have to know what that next step will lead to. If you've learned to listen to your inner voice, then following its guidance--even when you don't know where you'll end up--is the best thing you can do.
To thine own self be true is the wisdom of the ages and it's hard to go wrong with that advice.
Best of luck and happy travels.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Advice For Our Graduates
What advice would you give a graduating high school senior? What have you learned that you wish you knew back then? Of course, no self-respecting senior would want to hear any advice from those older and wiser--the whole point of life is to figure it out for one's self.
But, since I was invited to a high school graduation party, it did make me think about the life lessons that have made me the person I am today. Many of those lessons were painful, as they often are and I don't know if they're anything I could have been prepared for ahead of time. Also, some I learned from other's experiences (so don't go reading too much into them, people!). Nevertheless, here are the life lessons I wish someone told me.
Ten Lessons For Life
10. Sexual attraction and love are NOT the same thing. Learn to tell the difference.
9. Not everybody you meet has your best interest at heart.
8. Your parents want what's best for you but don't necessarily know what that is.
7. Don't get a credit card until gainfully employed in a self-supporting job, and only then use it for emergencies.
6. The morning-after pill is your friend, but hope you never need to be introduced.
5. Finish school before getting married and starting a family.
4. Using illegal drugs is a waste of time and money.
3. Learn to listen to your inner voice; it does know what's best for you.
2. You are irreplaceable to those who love you; don't squander their trust and affection.
1. Find compassion for the mistakes you make and for the mistakes of those who hurt you; we're all in this life together.
Happy Graduation!
But, since I was invited to a high school graduation party, it did make me think about the life lessons that have made me the person I am today. Many of those lessons were painful, as they often are and I don't know if they're anything I could have been prepared for ahead of time. Also, some I learned from other's experiences (so don't go reading too much into them, people!). Nevertheless, here are the life lessons I wish someone told me.
Ten Lessons For Life
10. Sexual attraction and love are NOT the same thing. Learn to tell the difference.
9. Not everybody you meet has your best interest at heart.
8. Your parents want what's best for you but don't necessarily know what that is.
7. Don't get a credit card until gainfully employed in a self-supporting job, and only then use it for emergencies.
6. The morning-after pill is your friend, but hope you never need to be introduced.
5. Finish school before getting married and starting a family.
4. Using illegal drugs is a waste of time and money.
3. Learn to listen to your inner voice; it does know what's best for you.
2. You are irreplaceable to those who love you; don't squander their trust and affection.
1. Find compassion for the mistakes you make and for the mistakes of those who hurt you; we're all in this life together.
Happy Graduation!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Top Ten Ways to Avoid Jury Duty
I have jury duty coming up and I hope I get on a panel. I know. I'm weird. But I like jury duty. I think it's such an interesting slice of life--to hear about the cases and to observe the kinds of people who come to serve.
I've been on juries before and have been amazed at the lack of reasoning ability of those present. Decisions about innocence and guilt were based--not on the evidence--but on the gut feeling of those on the panel, on how "guilty" the accused looked, on how the crime resembled one experienced by a juror, on the credibility of the witnesses. It was a very eye-opening experience.
Once when I was called for jury duty in Arizona, my boss told me how I should try and get out of it, as if, of course, that was what any reasonable person would want to do. I was quite indignant and told her I wanted to go and do my civic duty. She back peddled so fast she was moon walking, but in honor of her, here are the top ten things to say to get out of jury duty:
10. What's the highest amount we can award for damages?
9. Burglary? I won't do anything less than a capital case!
8. Innocent shminnocent. He looks guilty as hell.
7. They should bring back hanging.
6. I brought my cat, Miss Kippers, to help me decide what to believe. She's an excellent judge of character.
5. The only judge I listen to is Judge Judy.
4. When do we get snacks?
3. Have you heard my favorite joke? How do you tell if a lawyer's lying? His mouth is moving. Ha ha ha.
2. Is the firm of Crane, Poole and Schmidt trying this case?
And the number one thing to say to get out of jury duty . . .
1. I've always wondered what it would be like to be on this side of the court proceedings.
There you go. Hope it helps next time you get called to serve.
I've been on juries before and have been amazed at the lack of reasoning ability of those present. Decisions about innocence and guilt were based--not on the evidence--but on the gut feeling of those on the panel, on how "guilty" the accused looked, on how the crime resembled one experienced by a juror, on the credibility of the witnesses. It was a very eye-opening experience.
Once when I was called for jury duty in Arizona, my boss told me how I should try and get out of it, as if, of course, that was what any reasonable person would want to do. I was quite indignant and told her I wanted to go and do my civic duty. She back peddled so fast she was moon walking, but in honor of her, here are the top ten things to say to get out of jury duty:
10. What's the highest amount we can award for damages?
9. Burglary? I won't do anything less than a capital case!
8. Innocent shminnocent. He looks guilty as hell.
7. They should bring back hanging.
6. I brought my cat, Miss Kippers, to help me decide what to believe. She's an excellent judge of character.
5. The only judge I listen to is Judge Judy.
4. When do we get snacks?
3. Have you heard my favorite joke? How do you tell if a lawyer's lying? His mouth is moving. Ha ha ha.
2. Is the firm of Crane, Poole and Schmidt trying this case?
And the number one thing to say to get out of jury duty . . .
1. I've always wondered what it would be like to be on this side of the court proceedings.
There you go. Hope it helps next time you get called to serve.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Panda Love
Did you see the headline:
Chinese Researchers Pimp For Panda
Okay, so that's not really what it said, but there was a segment on the Olympics the other night where that headline was the subtext. The story was about the Panda Research Center where Chinese scientists have figured out how to breed the endangered pandas with spectacular success.
There's this one stud panda--we'll call him Mr. Big--who's fathered tons of babies. In order to keep him athletic enough to do the deed they use food treats to get him to first get on his hind legs, then squat down, then stand up, repeat. The reason for this is that the up-on-the-hind-legs position is ideal for getting it on, panda style. Just what you wanted to know from your Olympics coverage.
Apparently, though, even studly pandas have off days. When our hunka black & white love isn't in the mood, they play panda porn for him. Yes, I'm not kidding. They have a little TV outside his cage and they play video of pandas getting it on, complete with sounds of screaming and moaning. They didn't say whether these were videotapes of Mr. Big himself, which would make this whole thing a little too Rob Lowe.
Unfortunately, the panda research center was affected by that terrible earthquake in China. Buildings were severely damaged and some pandas died. Still, they reported that since that time there have been a few more births and I imagine they're firing up the video as you read this in order to keep the panda baby train on the move.
Chinese Researchers Pimp For Panda
Okay, so that's not really what it said, but there was a segment on the Olympics the other night where that headline was the subtext. The story was about the Panda Research Center where Chinese scientists have figured out how to breed the endangered pandas with spectacular success.
There's this one stud panda--we'll call him Mr. Big--who's fathered tons of babies. In order to keep him athletic enough to do the deed they use food treats to get him to first get on his hind legs, then squat down, then stand up, repeat. The reason for this is that the up-on-the-hind-legs position is ideal for getting it on, panda style. Just what you wanted to know from your Olympics coverage.
Apparently, though, even studly pandas have off days. When our hunka black & white love isn't in the mood, they play panda porn for him. Yes, I'm not kidding. They have a little TV outside his cage and they play video of pandas getting it on, complete with sounds of screaming and moaning. They didn't say whether these were videotapes of Mr. Big himself, which would make this whole thing a little too Rob Lowe.
Unfortunately, the panda research center was affected by that terrible earthquake in China. Buildings were severely damaged and some pandas died. Still, they reported that since that time there have been a few more births and I imagine they're firing up the video as you read this in order to keep the panda baby train on the move.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Olympic Fever
Hi. My name's Claire and I'm an Olympics-aholic. I didn't think it would happen to me. I thought I could take it or leave it. I didn't even have any plans to watch any of the coverage. I was otherwise engaged during the Opening Ceremonies, which was the only part I was thinking about watching, so once that was over, I thought I was home free.
But, no! I got sucked in and now I can't turn it off. It doesn't matter what sport is on, I'm loving them all. In the past, I used to only follow the women's gymnastics, but now I've watched cycling, beach volleyball, white water kayaking, all the swimming, men's and women's gymnastics, and even the truly bizarre sport of synchronized diving. I'm just a sucker for the hopes, the struggles, the adrenaline push for the finish line, and don't get me started on those dang medal ceremonies with the flags flying, the anthems playing and the athletes alternately beaming, crying and singing. I've also enjoyed the glimpses into Chinese culture and the background profiles of all the athletes.
Also, let me just say, I don't remember so many naked sports in the past. I haven't seen this much skin since my college days stumbling across a certain beach along the Willamette River. Athletes are always very easy on the eyes, but I must say I'm troubled by the "uniform" disparity between men's and women's beach volleyball. I don't care that the women play in bikinis but since they are, the men should have to play in Speedos. Equal opportunity ogling is what we're all about here at the Olympics.
While we're ogling, have you noticed what mutants some of these athletes are? The male swimmers are all giants with abnormally long torsos, and the members of the Chinese "women's" gymnastics team look like they should still be playing with dolls. The mens' lightweight skullers are all string beans while the weight lifters are sculpted like anatomy dolls. I've heard it said that biology is destiny and when I see these people, I can see the temptation to think that. I know I'm certainly built for swimming much more than running, but sitting on the couch watching international athletes is really what I'm best at. In fact, the commercial is over so I gotta go.
But, no! I got sucked in and now I can't turn it off. It doesn't matter what sport is on, I'm loving them all. In the past, I used to only follow the women's gymnastics, but now I've watched cycling, beach volleyball, white water kayaking, all the swimming, men's and women's gymnastics, and even the truly bizarre sport of synchronized diving. I'm just a sucker for the hopes, the struggles, the adrenaline push for the finish line, and don't get me started on those dang medal ceremonies with the flags flying, the anthems playing and the athletes alternately beaming, crying and singing. I've also enjoyed the glimpses into Chinese culture and the background profiles of all the athletes.
Also, let me just say, I don't remember so many naked sports in the past. I haven't seen this much skin since my college days stumbling across a certain beach along the Willamette River. Athletes are always very easy on the eyes, but I must say I'm troubled by the "uniform" disparity between men's and women's beach volleyball. I don't care that the women play in bikinis but since they are, the men should have to play in Speedos. Equal opportunity ogling is what we're all about here at the Olympics.
While we're ogling, have you noticed what mutants some of these athletes are? The male swimmers are all giants with abnormally long torsos, and the members of the Chinese "women's" gymnastics team look like they should still be playing with dolls. The mens' lightweight skullers are all string beans while the weight lifters are sculpted like anatomy dolls. I've heard it said that biology is destiny and when I see these people, I can see the temptation to think that. I know I'm certainly built for swimming much more than running, but sitting on the couch watching international athletes is really what I'm best at. In fact, the commercial is over so I gotta go.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Will'm Shkspre
Get thee to Albany Civic Theater (http://www.albanycivic.org/) for The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged. This wild and wacky comedy has 3 people performing all of Shakespeare's plays in two short hours, with a 15 minute intermission. The fabulous Pamela, John and Jonathan dance, sing, recite, opine, sword fight, and make puppets commit unspeakable acts all in the service of the Bard and the funny bone of the audience. I have never laughed so hard. The play runs through August 23rd, I think, so don't waste any time.
For those of you who are not local, pick up a copy of Shakespeare and read one of his plays, or even just a long speech or two from any one of his plays. His use of language is truly unparalleled, the poetry breathtaking.
The beauty of Shakespearean language came through even in that riotous ACT production. The script is an really an homage to Shakespeare. While you don't need to know anything about his plays to appreciate The Complete Works, the more you know, the funnier the ACT play is. For $10.00 you can have a night out you will never forget. Can't beat that.
For those of you who are not local, pick up a copy of Shakespeare and read one of his plays, or even just a long speech or two from any one of his plays. His use of language is truly unparalleled, the poetry breathtaking.
The beauty of Shakespearean language came through even in that riotous ACT production. The script is an really an homage to Shakespeare. While you don't need to know anything about his plays to appreciate The Complete Works, the more you know, the funnier the ACT play is. For $10.00 you can have a night out you will never forget. Can't beat that.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Bad News Good News
Apparently, my YA fantasy novel isn't fashionable. "Edgy" is the new buzzword--think vampires, werewolves, rampant sex, and hooker clothing. I can live with being wholesome and old-fashioned, although I was surprised to learn that teen blow jobs are so last year.
Still, I have more tricks up my sleeve so I queried about a different YA novel, featuring the edgy reality of sex abuse. WooHoo! That seems to be more intriguing, at least at the query stage, so I'll send off sample chapters and see how it goes.
Keep your fingers crossed but don't hold your breath because it could take months to hear back.
Still, I have more tricks up my sleeve so I queried about a different YA novel, featuring the edgy reality of sex abuse. WooHoo! That seems to be more intriguing, at least at the query stage, so I'll send off sample chapters and see how it goes.
Keep your fingers crossed but don't hold your breath because it could take months to hear back.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Theater People
There's nothing like being in a show--the camaraderie, the sense of focus, the risk of digging deep to find a character and the thrill of putting it all out there on stage. It's been a year since I've been in a show and I've finally recovered enough to be ready for another one.
For those of you who perform--whether singing, acting, dancing, and/or playing a musical instrument--you know just how much energy it takes. To be on-stage requires putting out a huge amount of internal energy in order to be interesting enough for others to want to watch. I can see why so many performers are tempted to manufacture that energy through chemical means, because if you're not careful, you can dry up the well pretty quickly.
Still, being on-stage, acting, is worth all the time it takes and the incredible energy drain. That's how you know you're "theater people," when even before your current run is up, you're planning out your next audition. Or, when you plan your vacations around the production schedule. Or when you wail to a friend that if you don't get THIS part it'll be 6 months before there's another role suitable for your particular talents and you can't wait that long.
I've auditioned for four roles since January and landed exactly none. That's why it's been so long since I've been on stage. It's not for lack of trying, certainly. It's because my talent has not been appreciated in the right places. Sigh. Still, there's another audition next month. And if that doesn't take, I can go to the next city and try out a few weeks later for their show. If that's a non-starter then there's a small part in a Christmas show that might work. If all else fails, in January 2009 I can audition . . .
For those of you who perform--whether singing, acting, dancing, and/or playing a musical instrument--you know just how much energy it takes. To be on-stage requires putting out a huge amount of internal energy in order to be interesting enough for others to want to watch. I can see why so many performers are tempted to manufacture that energy through chemical means, because if you're not careful, you can dry up the well pretty quickly.
Still, being on-stage, acting, is worth all the time it takes and the incredible energy drain. That's how you know you're "theater people," when even before your current run is up, you're planning out your next audition. Or, when you plan your vacations around the production schedule. Or when you wail to a friend that if you don't get THIS part it'll be 6 months before there's another role suitable for your particular talents and you can't wait that long.
I've auditioned for four roles since January and landed exactly none. That's why it's been so long since I've been on stage. It's not for lack of trying, certainly. It's because my talent has not been appreciated in the right places. Sigh. Still, there's another audition next month. And if that doesn't take, I can go to the next city and try out a few weeks later for their show. If that's a non-starter then there's a small part in a Christmas show that might work. If all else fails, in January 2009 I can audition . . .
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Of Flies and Men
I'm lying in bed reading last night, my husband by my side, and this dang fly is buzzing like crazy around our room.
"Why do flies always end up in our room?" I am quite indignant and ask the question more of the universe than my spouse, but he is there and is forced to listen to my ongoing cry to the heavens: " They come in at the far end of the house [when we leave our screen door open] so why do they always end up in here?"
"They like the light," replies my husband.
True, our bedroom light is the only one on in this house. This explanation had not occurred to me. I thought maybe it was time to wash our sheets, or move the kitty litter out of the back hall.
"So, if I turn on the bathroom light, the fly will go into the bathroom?"
"Yes."
I hatch an evil plan. I turn on the bathroom light. I turn off the bedroom light (yes, my sweetie is still reading). The fly buzzes into the bathroom. Ah HAH! I've got him now! I close the bathroom door, slipping my hand out at the last second after turning off the bathroom light because I don't want to waste electricity. I turn back on the bedroom light and slip back into bed, feeling very smug in the blissful silence.
My husband has not moved from his recumbent position, book never wavering from its upright position, even when the lights were off. He does not look at me, his eyes fixed instead on the words he can see once more. He speaks: "How long do you think it'll take for him to crawl under the bathroom door?"
"You mean he'll see the light in our room and come back?" I didn't think of that. I thought he was trapped forever in the bathroom of death.
Less than a minute later, the infernal buzzing sounds.
"Damn! What do I do now?" This time I am not crying out to the heavens but instead asking my husband.
"Turn off the light. Then he'll stop buzzing around."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Why?"
"They can't see to fly in the dark."
I'm quiet a moment. Then turn off the light. The buzzing stops.
My husband leans over to me and says, "Just call me, 'The Fly Whisperer.'"
"Why do flies always end up in our room?" I am quite indignant and ask the question more of the universe than my spouse, but he is there and is forced to listen to my ongoing cry to the heavens: " They come in at the far end of the house [when we leave our screen door open] so why do they always end up in here?"
"They like the light," replies my husband.
True, our bedroom light is the only one on in this house. This explanation had not occurred to me. I thought maybe it was time to wash our sheets, or move the kitty litter out of the back hall.
"So, if I turn on the bathroom light, the fly will go into the bathroom?"
"Yes."
I hatch an evil plan. I turn on the bathroom light. I turn off the bedroom light (yes, my sweetie is still reading). The fly buzzes into the bathroom. Ah HAH! I've got him now! I close the bathroom door, slipping my hand out at the last second after turning off the bathroom light because I don't want to waste electricity. I turn back on the bedroom light and slip back into bed, feeling very smug in the blissful silence.
My husband has not moved from his recumbent position, book never wavering from its upright position, even when the lights were off. He does not look at me, his eyes fixed instead on the words he can see once more. He speaks: "How long do you think it'll take for him to crawl under the bathroom door?"
"You mean he'll see the light in our room and come back?" I didn't think of that. I thought he was trapped forever in the bathroom of death.
Less than a minute later, the infernal buzzing sounds.
"Damn! What do I do now?" This time I am not crying out to the heavens but instead asking my husband.
"Turn off the light. Then he'll stop buzzing around."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Why?"
"They can't see to fly in the dark."
I'm quiet a moment. Then turn off the light. The buzzing stops.
My husband leans over to me and says, "Just call me, 'The Fly Whisperer.'"
Friday, August 1, 2008
Summer Daze
Apparently summer is over. Two weeks ago, in mid-July, the back-to-school ads started. AAAAACCCCKKKK! My daughter and I scream whenever we see one on TV and quickly mute the sound. It's very hard to live in the moment when all the signs want us to plan for the future.
For the record, there are 4 weeks and change until school starts. We still have plenty of summer left. We have two sets of visitors still to come. I still have lots of time to make good on all those summer projects I was sure I would do--finish sewing a purse with my daughter, painting my bedroom, making a square-foot garden box. Since I haven't done any of those projects, it's proof that summer has hit full-on because I'm in the sleep-in, laze-around-reading, see-a-movie phase of the summer. All those productive visions have drifted away in a soft breeze like a puffy white cloud across a blue sky.
Today, of course, it's raining. It does do that here in the summer, though rarely. But who can paint when it's humid, or build a garden box when the grass is wet? We could sew, I suppose, but that's a project for when we have several hours and we don't 'cause we have a lunch date with G-pa. So, I better get off the couch and out of my jammies because it's just about time to pick him up for lunch.
If that's not summer, I don't know what is!
For the record, there are 4 weeks and change until school starts. We still have plenty of summer left. We have two sets of visitors still to come. I still have lots of time to make good on all those summer projects I was sure I would do--finish sewing a purse with my daughter, painting my bedroom, making a square-foot garden box. Since I haven't done any of those projects, it's proof that summer has hit full-on because I'm in the sleep-in, laze-around-reading, see-a-movie phase of the summer. All those productive visions have drifted away in a soft breeze like a puffy white cloud across a blue sky.
Today, of course, it's raining. It does do that here in the summer, though rarely. But who can paint when it's humid, or build a garden box when the grass is wet? We could sew, I suppose, but that's a project for when we have several hours and we don't 'cause we have a lunch date with G-pa. So, I better get off the couch and out of my jammies because it's just about time to pick him up for lunch.
If that's not summer, I don't know what is!
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