Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Mid-July, Mid-Life

last
tigerlillies
lightning bugs
firecrackers
surprising
pop

azalea growls
flashes tardy bloom
behind
cleome bursts



(leggy mums hidden
bide their time
awaiting the next)



first
locusts
sunflowers
fallen
yellow
leaves

bees doggedly
pursue the mower
of
slow growing grass

Monday, July 20, 2009

Story Problem

I always hated story problems in math. They hurt my brain. There were always too many details to sort through to find out what the important information really was. Here's my own story problem of the day.

Question: If a basement pipe drips one drop every 20 seconds, and the drop lands on a half full box of dryer sheets, how long does it take to saturate the box and the dryer sheets and start dripping through the shelf to the dryer - the one someone just gave you because yours died - below?
Answer: Put a bucket under the drip and go upstairs, leaving it for your husband who is currently at a baseball game to solve. And try to forget that you just hit a deer on your way home from shopping. A baby deer with spots. Go snuggle your slightly traumatized teenagers.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Birthday Gratefuls

208. Hearing my girls laughing together yesterday.

209. Knowing that I need nothing. I do not need a birthday gift, Steve. I want no thing. Thank you for all that you have given to me.

210. Being reminded in church yesterday that Worship does not equal Singing. This list is one of my own acts of Worship.

Monday, July 6, 2009

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

CAN YOU HEAR ME?
PARDON MY YELLING.
IT'S LOUD IN HERE.

WE GOT HOME LATE FRIDAY NIGHT.
I STEPPED ON A DAMP RUG GETTING MY NIGHTLY GLASS OF WATER.
WATER I LEAVE BY THE BED AND USUALLY DON'T DRINK.
I LOOKED UNDER THE RUG.
I NOTICED THE FLOOR BOARDS WERE WARPED AND DAMP.
THE DISHWASHER HAD A SLOOOOOW LEAK WHILE WE WERE GONE.
WE WERE GONE 10 DAYS.

CAN YOU HEAR ME?
I CAN'T HEAR YOU.
IT'S LOUD IN HERE.

WE FOUND WATER HAD DRIP DRIP DRIPPED DOWN TO THE BASEMENT.
IT SOAKED A FEW THINGS WE DON'T CARE ABOUT.
I'M GLAD THERE'S A CLOSET BELOW THE KITCHEN.
I'M GLAD MOST OF WHAT WAS IN THE CLOSET IS IN PLASTIC BINS.
I PRETTY MUCH LOVE PLASTIC BINS.
THE HUMIDIFIER LEAKED TOO, IN THE SAME WET CLOSET.
IT'S A COINKEYDINK, THEY TELL ME.

CAN YOU HEAR ME?
THE NOISE IS DEAFENING.
I SAID IT'S LOUD IN HERE.

CERTIFIED RESTORATION'ERS ARRIVED TO SAVE US.
THEY TORE UP THE WARPED BOARDS AND DRILLED HOLES IN THE FLOOR.
THEY LEFT A DORM-FRIDGE-ON-STEROIDS HUMIDIFIER AND A BLUE-KETTLE-DRUM FAN.
BOTH SOUND LIKE AIRPLANE ENGINES.
I HAVE TWO AIRPLANE ENGINES IN THE KITCHEN.
AND I HAVE TWO MORE DRUMS AND A FRIDGE ROARING IN THE BASEMENT.

TIL THURSDAY.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
GOT IBUPROFEN?
WHAT'S IN YOUR BASEMENT?
CALGON, TAKE ME AWAY!





Sunday, July 5, 2009

Thi sblog

I took a lot of Spanish classes in college. One of the classes that I grew to love was a pronounciation class. There were only a few people in the class. I liked that. It's a lot easier to try something and mess it up good when just a few people are listening.

Maybe that's why I haven't told many people about this blog.

One of the requirements of pronounciation class was that we practice a particular passage during the week and record ourselves on a tape recorder (yes, the old fashioned kind) so that we could hear ourselves and improve our diction and theoretically quit sounding like Americans Speaking Spanish. Each week we brought our first-time-through recording of the passage along with the best recording to the teacher for a critique. It was intimidating.

The first time I recorded myself, I started and stopped several times due to an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. When I am uncomfortable with something new, I giggle. This applies especially to things that involve my mouth. I nearly got hysterical the first time a hygienist used that sucking hose thingy at a teeth cleaning. More recently, when a hygienist told me to get a ultrasonic toothbrush so that I didn't have to go to a peridontist in a few years (yes, getting older does not mean that people quit telling you what to do), it took me a few tries before I could brush my teeth without taking a break partway through. Trying new foods? Giggles. Kazoos? Harmonicas? Humming? Forget it.

I learned in pronounciation class that eventually you reach a comfort level where the 'r' rolls naturally and no longer feels weird. One begins to be able to hear and speak individual words as a bunch of sounds rather than as each individual word. Native speakers in any language run words together and leave out the sounds of some letters at the ends of words because the sounds at the beginning of the next word are similar. Sometimes the beginning or ending sound of a word is unspoken for no reason at all. I was fascinated with the concept. I'm r-r-ra-r-r-ra like that.

Today as we were driving home from church, El mentioned that she doesn't have to do homework today. She thought of it, I think, because it's the first 'regular' Sunday for us since school let out. Last week we were on vacation and the week before that we had a big Father's Day event at church. So her teenage mind must have shifted into the habit of reviewing what homework she needed to do as we were driving home today.

And I said that the last time we were here it was Father's Day. And remembered out loud,

"That's right, it wasn't a regular Sunday."

Then for some razón rara I explained to them that I hadn't said,

"That's right, it was an irregular Sunday."

Even though they mean the same thing essentially, I wouldn't have known what to write if I was in English class and had to take dictation.

Maybeethi sis why yi ha ventold mannypee polabou thi sblog.

More Traveling Gratefuls

201. Seeing old friends.

202. Seeing old friends.

203. Seeing old friends.

204. Goodbyes. Tears. Sadness that is good.

205. Safe home.

206. Being thanked by my teenager for not being like the mother of four on the plane. Bless her heart. She'd had a rough day.

207. The damage from the leak could have been worse.