Archive for the ‘Weirdville’ Category

I asked Pi to get the baby dressed, and rather than choosing, you know, clothes, this is what she came up with:

“Oh please! Mr. Tiger, don’t eat me up, and I’ll give you my beautiful tie dyed bandana plus a little sass to boot.”


Not to be outdone, here is Ood a couple weeks ago

sporting manly pajama pants on his head, what else? The world looks to Ood when they are wondering what to wear–especially for fancy occasions like holidays.


Thumbing through these photos, I kept wondering where these people get their idea of what makes a legitimate outfit? Of course, this is what I dressed the baby in the day Ood chose a raccoon suit:

Nice tie dye, no? Especially with those clown socks, I think. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.


Pi is publishing her novella in her blog!!! Read the first chapter and a half here.


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creative play

My children’s creative use of toys gives me a glimpse into the inner workings of their young minds.

Mr. Potato Head has hairy armpits.

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I don’t know why I ever bother making New Years resolutions, right in the thick of the darkest and bleakest days of winter, but I do. My resolutions are invariably of the same genre: get organized with a sprinkling of getting in shape. I always give them a good college try too. But you must remember that my college days were spent gorging on pizza, shopping for makeup, and indulging in all-night cram sessions for whatever it was I studied. By mid-February I cannot remember what the color green looks like, let alone which closet I was going to create a haven of clutter-freeness from. Thank heavens for March 4.

When I was a kid we would always spend a few seconds marching about and often make a dessert in honor of the pun. Now that I look grownup it has become a day of re-commitment, of marching forth, often accompanied by dessert, usually cake. March 4 is the day for knowing that whatever storms may roll in, the worst ones are over. There may be snowy gray clouds today, but odds are tomorrow will be sunny and slushy. We shed a couple blankets from the beds. We clean a closet we had forgotten we were supposed to, just because. March 4 reminds me what green looks like, I can smell the approaching sun.

I always make a few goals for the coming Spring on this day. What am I Marching Forth to do this year? I am going to exercise every weekday for three months! Who’s with me?? <crickets chirping>


For those who only come here for photos of the Baby:

This little face got foody, this little face came clean.

I should write nursery rhymes for a living. And yes, she is saying “quack quack!” quack

Notice that her security item that day was a toothpaste lid. Blankies are highly overrated.

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the croon of the bassoon

bassoon all the time
my spouse plays bassoon
not just does he, but loves he
sublime overtones
Baby’s lullaby
low strains wafting in to her
from the living room
could he teach the kids?
bassoonists are uncommon
future scholorships
start 'em young

(That’s Isp five years ago)

Haiku Friday

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I’ve been hearing complaints that I don’t blog often enough anymore. Ninety-four percent of those complaints are coming from my own mouth to any available whine-listener. But for you two gripers who are not me (you know who you are) I just want to say, I love you too. I still go though my days with intermittent aha! moments whenever I see potential blog fodder. I’m just trying to work on that “responsible list” that I get so behind on, so sometimes the fun has to wait. However, I aim to increase the frequency of the fodder becoming feed (RSS anyone?) so hold on to your buckets. In fact, now that I’ve made a quasi-commitment to posting with regularity, I see some very good material dealing with my lack of consistency coming in a couple weeks. And now for a random photo.


Isp won.

I am always highly entertained by the search engine terms people use to stumble here. Yesterday someone landed here after searching “moldy broccoli.” I thought that was a coincidence, because although I haven’t blogged about moldy broccoli yet, it is something I usually keep in the frig, so someday I probably will. I wonder why one person searched “whack my spouse,” and I wonder if the person who searched “picture of my fanny” ever found a therapist. Some search terms are so original I have to try them out myself, like “soapy mouth fun” and “animals sculpture out of food.” I want to put an understanding arm around the people who search “baby cataract” and apologize to those looking for “how to become a foot model” that they will find no help here. My favorite search ever was: “this is the reason enough to smile.” I sure hope so!

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grandma's hearing aid

…and then is reluctant to give them back. Whether worn as a game or a fashion statement, we cannot tell, but it certainly takes a very kind and patient Grandmother to entertain these whims.

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swear weirds

Swear words are strictly taboo in this family. Yes, I am a prude. But Isp is a kid who likes to push his limits. From the back seat of the car I heard him taunt, “I’m going to swear. Hhh…. eeeeh…”

“If you say a swear word, I will wash your mouth out with a soapy washcloth, ” I reminded him.

He protested, “But my teacher says those words!”

I was caught off guard. “Really? When?”

“When we are doing P.E. she says, ‘in hell, ex hell.”


Ood’s been at it again! This time play dough.

stir the pot

Dissolve ½ cup salt in 1 ½ cup boiling water. Stir in 1 Tbsp. alum, 2 Tbsp. salad oil, and 2 cups flour. Mix ’til lumpy, knead ’til smooth. Break into pieces and knead in food color until desired shades are reached. (For single color, add food color to boiling water.)

play dough



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