Category: Uncategorized

Tu Me Fais Sourire

We’ve been cleaning up and clearing out goo gobs of stuff as we get ready for our move this summer.  In one of several forgotten boxes that had been tucked in the guest room closet, DH unearthed several CaseLogics (remember those?) full of CDs and CD sleeves.  There were discs ranging from Sade to Pure Funk, Wham! to Lucy Pearl (whatever happened to them?).  
I opened up the laptop and just kept feeding it one CD after another. Disc after disc, it was a regular Mix Master Flash Jam session going on.   Mixed in with all of those discs were dozens of  CDs that friends have made: some from Chill Bill One, work-out mixes from KSC, the annual holiday mix from Erin and Pete, and some we got as favors from weddings we’d attended.  Most from this batch had no liner notes, let alone list of tracks.  Clever gal that I am, I opened up a few windows and as I listened to track after track (after track), I typed in the chorus of the song. Voila! Track name and artist. 
In order to speed things along,  I opened DH’s laptop and set my chair on swivel.  It became a fluid movement of driving a disc into one laptop, pulling a disc out of the other, and looking up track titles. I was practically gorging my iTunes library to the limit (if that’s even possible).  It was a tedious process and I could feel a full blown crank-attack coming on.  My brow was furrowed and quite possibly, I looked like this:
So I thought I’d beg off trying to match up tracks and titles to just surf my favorite sites for things to make me smile.  Lucky for you, dear reader, I like to share. 
This remind me of my girls. I hope that they have strong, solid friendships, always.
Keeping on with the friendship theme, this picture cracks me up.  Having some solid peeps who have your back and keep you smiling? I rank that up there with air and water. 

Truly, truly I do.
Um, yeah. Especially when that ice cream is this.
 Je me sens comme ce chaque fois qu’il pleut.  
Probablement parce que je n’ai pas un parapluie quand j’ai besoin d’une.


This site runs neck and neck with FaceBook as the biggest time suck of my life. But ohhhh, everything on it is the awesome-sauce. 
This score was on the last unmarked CD. 
Good things come to those who wait, n’est–ce pas?
Continue Reading
IN: ON: May 26, 2011 TAGS: , , BY: Hilary
Continue Reading

Going to Pieces

I know I haven’t posted in a while; life outside the blogosphere has really been slapping me around.  As some of you may know, we’re in the process of moving from our little slice of Hampton Roads back to the capital of the Commwealth.  Not too far, but there’s a lot that goes into a relocation.  Once we decided on a home, we’ve been attending to all the minutiae that comes along with it.  DH is as smooth as freshly laid cement; he’s totally unfazed at the prospect of packing up our 5 years here.  Me, on the other hand, I’ve purchased a one-way ticket to Crazy-Town.

We’ve gotta pack! We’ve gotta throw stuff out! We’ve gotta get change of address forms!  So, the posts have been few and far between as I’ve been trying to sort stuff out, clean stuff up, and prepare for what I hope to be, a relatively easy move.

If that weren’t enough, my knee started giving me problems.  A dull, persistent ache has been radiating from my knee-cap for the past two weeks.  My mother, who’s scheduled for her own knee surgery next month, says it’s sympathy pains. I say it’s damn inconvenient. I’m walking around waiting for my leg to give out, that’s how achy and uncomfortable I am.  I went to the orthopedist, who diagnosed me as having Runner’s Knee.  Translation: you run a lot, your joints are going to get angry. Thankfully, no surgery required, but I’ve been fitted with brace that makes the Bionic Woman look like the Tin Man.

Now, as we all know, I like to eat.  Thankfully, I like to cook.  I’m not really a kitchen gadget person, but I had been wanting to get a few things to help my prep work move a little faster. I had been going back and forth about getting a mandoline.  You know, one of these things. . .

It slices. It juliennes.  It comes with a finger guard that I am always in too much of rush to use until I get to the nub of whatever I’m slicing.  Then I think, “Hmm, I should really get that guard out before I [insert expletive].” Because, of course, my finger tip as come flying off.

Mandoline: 2
Fingertips: 0

And for the record, it’s really hard to type with only nine, intact digits.  The pain, however, has been dwarfed by my need to share about my reckless cooking skills.  Learn from my mistakes; buy pre-chopped.

Continue Reading
IN: ON: May 19, 2011 TAGS: , BY: Hilary
Continue Reading

Freckles


 I’ve really been feeling freckles lately.  Maybe it’s the warmer weather, the knowing that summer is almost upon us.  Warmer temps mean more skin hanging out (and as a little PSA, please use your sunscreen, hats, and other protective gear to prevent burns, blisters, and sun related skin disease).   
Hemlines are steadily on the rise, exposing expanses of calf, knees and thighs. Collars are peeled away and necklines dip into more relaxed positions.  Clavicles and the sweet nape of the neck are revealed. Sleeves are stripped off, leaving shoulders unabashedly uncovered.  Beauty marks, cafe au lait spots, and freckles, freckles, freckles come back into the light. 
I’m putting away the concealer and foundation with my cable knits and corduroys.  I’m breaking out my SPF laced moisturizers.
I’ve fallen in love with my freckles and can’t wait to show them off. 
Continue Reading
IN: ON: May 9, 2011 TAGS: BY: Hilary
Continue Reading

Word to Ya Mother!

by Tina Fey

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.


May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.


When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.


Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.


Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.


O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.


And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.


And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.


Amen.” 


Happy Mother’s Day to all the mom’s, grandmom’s, just-like-a-mom’s, and all those person’s who you will celebrate this Sunday! 

Continue Reading
IN: ON: May 6, 2011 TAGS: BY: Hilary
Continue Reading

Day 25: A Photo That Inspires You

Gah! I am still working on this 30 day project even though I am WELL beyond the 30 days.  Before I get much further, let me first say, no, this is not my bod, nor my necklace. However, I saw this picture on  Pinterest and was motivated, nay, inspired to get crafting. 
Maybe the reason why it’s taken so long to finish the last few entries of this 30 day project is that I really don’t care for the “assignments”.  Find a photo that inspires you. Find a photo of something that makes you smile.  It’s getting to ooey, gooey, Disney-fied for me.  I’m not saying that I’m wanting to post something that makes me nauseous, but how about “find a photo of your celebrity crush”.  Total no-brainer.  Well, maybe not seeing as I have several. But I digress.
So, like I said, I was on Pinterest, looking at pictures that make me yearn and burn: modern kitchens, vertigo-inducing high heels, DIY projects and scrumptious recipes to try.  While I’m still putting in work on the French and the photography, I’ve been wanting to do something else.  I’ve been wanting to make something.  
I had been reading this book, The Dive From Clausen’s Pier, and the protagonist sews.  She uses sewing as a coping mechanism for the stressors in her life.  The descriptions of her running her hands over bolts of fabric, of making something out of nothing, of closing her mouth around the bitter metal of pins — I just wanted to be there. I wanted to see my own hands cutting, threading, finishing.  I called my mom, a veteran quilter, and said, “I want to make a quilt.” My neighbor gave me a pattern to make blossom hair bows for the girls. I went to the Fabric Store, Morgan and Coever in tow.  The bolts of fabric came together with a satisfyingly muffled thunk as I sorted through them. It was a buffet of cottons, silks, poly-blends, and flannels.  There were prints and solids, muted hues and sharp brights. I wanted to open my purse and clothesline it all inside. 
I saw the tie-necklace on Pinterest and knew that was going to my next project. DH has a rack of ties he hardly ever wears and while I was tempted to just pilfer the ones that I liked, I waited and asked for a few of his cast-offs (talk about a great reason to buy him some better-looking ties.)  The instructions were easy, and soon I was pinning, threading, tacking and finishing.  The girls would see me with my needle and pins out, my pin cushion balanced on my knee while I sat stitching on the sofa, and would skip around the furniture calling me Betsy Ross.  Talk about an ego boost. 
My necklace is all but done. It just needs a good press. I’ve already got the outfit to wear it with picked out.  I’m tempted to just stitch it to the shirt, actually.  Maybe that’ll be my next project.  . .
Continue Reading
IN: ON: May 4, 2011 TAGS: , , BY: Hilary
Continue Reading

Reading is Fundamental

Morgan and Coever were treated to Chick-Fil-A yesterday as we were out running errands before the holiday week-end.  The Chick-Fil-A kids’ meal includes the chicken, some fries, a drink and usually an educational booklet of some kind.  Morgan received about book about animal habitats and Coever’s was about birds.  They enjoyed looking at the colorful pages, pointing out animals they recognized and every so often, Morgan would toss out a newly acquired factoid about animal homes.

“Coever!” she blurted out from the back seat, “Did you know that mice hibernate in the wintertime?”

“Wow!” said Coever, munching on some fries.

“Coever!” said Morgan, carefully turning a page of her book, “Did you know that termites live in colonies? Just like the pilgrims!”

And on it went over the course of the afternoon and into the evening.  These little books were such a hit, the girls were still paging through them this morning.  Morgan was sitting on her bed, scanning the back cover of her book.  There was an advertisement for several other books in the series, titles like marine life, safari animals and out space.

“Mom, what’s a saddle-lite?” Morgan asked, carefully sounding out the title of one of the books.  As basically as I could, because my knowledge of spaceflight is spotty at best. I mean, I’ve seen “Space Camp“, but that was the ’80s, afterall. In a nutshell, I was able to convey that a satellite was something sent up by the people at NASA (which was another whole discussion) to learn about the Earth, geography and something to do with global positioning, yadda, yadda, yadda.  Her response?

“Oh.”  Then she turned to Coever, who had just come into the room from brushing her teeth.

“Hey Coever,” Morgan said, holding up the book.  “This, right here, is a saddle-lite.”

 Coever plucked the book from her sister’s grasp to examine the photo, and without missing a beat asked,  “Well, where’s the happy light?”

Boy, those synapses are always firing.

Continue Reading
IN: ON: April 22, 2011 TAGS: , BY: Hilary
Continue Reading
1 … 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 … 83