Today’s weather report called for some hazy sunshine, after the Valley fog burned off and, as usual, they were correct.
This face. Her smile. Those twinkle-y, bright blue eyes. The perfect way that her nose crinkles with that smile. I love all of these things. I just love me some Hazey-sunshine.
NaPhoPoMo day 25
It’s Fall y’all. It’s a gloomy November day. It’s colds and flu season. To the parents who KNOWINGLY brought their kids to school, camp, after school activities practices with fevers, coughs, sore throats, nausea and vomiting….
Actually I am kidding. Why would I thank such foolish irresponsibility especially since this pretty much guarantees that your irresponsible choices will bring sickness here under the Big Top. Hurray, hurray, hurray. Thank you for being a selfish, irresponsible ass.
I know…it’s the season…it can’t be helped.
Blah, blah, blah…
I’m just going to enjoy a yummy, velvety bowl of tomato soup before I take of the first casualty of colds and flu season and stupid parents here under the Big Top.
NaPhoPoMo day 12
A perfectly grey Fall day like today is the perfect day for laundry…especially because some of us are down to that last clean pair of socks and underwear.
Yes, I am slacking.
But today was the perfect day to get it done. At least most of it done. Okay, fine. Today was a good day to get some of it done…at least some socks and underwear. And thanks to my ever attentive, don-t-tell-her-she’s-clumsy-because-she-is-a-cat-and-cats-are-not-clumsy assistant, Zelda, I made a discovery.
When I am gone…remember me for who I am & not because I’m me. I know it makes no sense…but you’ll get it someday.
Teenaged angst all over one of my laundry baskets. I have no clue which one of my clowns wrote this and when and why. But I am sure they had their reasons to pour their heart out all over the bottom of this old laundry basket.
I get it. I had teenaged angst too. A lot of it. Too much of it. I poured it out all over the place. Funny how when I run across something I wrote years and years ago how sometimes I can get the pain and the emotion being expressed and other times I shake my head a little embarrassed because that really was tearing at my heart…that?! Perhaps at a certain age we aren’t supposed to understand that teenaged angst all that much…even if it was once ours.
I don’t know…
I get kind of philosophical when I’m doing laundry. And, as you can see it is hereditary.
My son is not the kind of tourist that blends in well with the natives.
Natives usually don’t stop at local fountains to have their picture taken.
Every fountain that they happen to pass by.
From every angle.
Natives just don’t do that…
unless they happen to be hanging out with a tourist like Daniel.
Daniel is now home from his LA adventure with Zoë and Josh. He had a great time making so many happy memories with his big sister and bro-in-love. which he has been telling me about all day. He also tells me that he missed his mom, dad and sisters so so much. Oh, and my delicious cooking too. He told me that while he pushed grilled ranch chicken all over his plate to make it look like he had eaten it. He missed that.
So happy that he had a great time. So happy that he got to spend time with Zoë. So happy that he is home…not eating my delicious grilled ranch chicken.
Well, at least for a few days. Fall Break is upon us here under the Big Top, at least for two of my clowns; which means fun. For Daniel it means an adventure partially funded by the good people of Southwest Airlines because Air Tran mishandled our luggage earlier this year. Thank you social media and thank you Southwest!
LA bound to hang out with his sister Zoë and Josh and their fur-babies. Disneyland, Disney California Adventure, Santa Monica Pier, the beach and whatever else they can squeeze into a few days this week awaits as soon as he can get on that plane.
I was totally fine with this until I saw him walk away…
and saw the plane back out away from the gate…
and take off.
Now two pieces of my heart are in LA.
Having way too much fun I am sure.
Meanwhile, as it always is when even one clown is away it is quiet, much too quiet here under the Big Top.