(click for a bigger picture)Happy one year to my fellow BBCS members. (The only ones who will possibly understand this post.) It's been a fun year. See you at Chili's!
-Your President
Friday, April 28, 2006
A Milestone
Happy Anniversary BBCS! What a day - we've made it a whole year and today I've been getting so many messages from well-wishers wanting to congratulate us on a year of book-clubbing. Look, even Wally sent a message to say hello:
(click for a bigger picture)
(click for a bigger picture)
Monday, April 24, 2006
My Recommendation to You
Today is a rainy, chilly, nasty-looking day and I am trying to pay my bills even though I don't have enough money and don't get paid again for another week and I'm feeling really sad and blah and Eeyore-ish, so what do I do (besides whine about it to the vast expanses of the Internet)?
I visit Cute Overload!
You must go. Several times a day. There's nothing better than furry puppy faces to brighten your day. Like this one, and this one. And even this one.
See? Don't you feel better already?
I visit Cute Overload!
You must go. Several times a day. There's nothing better than furry puppy faces to brighten your day. Like this one, and this one. And even this one.
See? Don't you feel better already?
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
.jpg)
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Buns
I know I'm so very late posting this, but I forgot to do it on Friday and time has gotten away from me. So happy late Easter everyone.These two cuties are the Easter gifts I made for my two cuties, my nephews Cameron and Alex. Here they are from the other side:
I wanted to give them something that wasn't candy and I saw some bunnies like these on another blog so I stole the idea. Unfortunately, compared to the candy that Grandma gave them, my bunnies were no big deal. But that's all right, once the M&Ms are all gone, the bunnies will still be there.Here are some shots of the wonder boys since they're just so darn cute. This is Cameron "The Egg Hunter" with my Grandma (who will be turning 89 next week - you go Grandma!):
And here's Alex "Action Jackson" who took a digger off the couch the day before Easter. He's going to be a stunt man when he grows up:
Happy spring everyone!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Early Morning Haiku
For some reason, at the edge of consciousness, in the early morning I seem to have this mental clarity that doesn't occur any other time of the day. For instance, this morning, as Molly performed her very persuasive get-up-and-put-your-sneakers-on dance, this little haiku came into my head:
Lick, lick, six-fifteen.
Get up let’s go for a walk.
Cold, wet, puppy nose.
Lick, lick, six-fifteen.
Get up let’s go for a walk.
Cold, wet, puppy nose.
Thirty
Welcome. Pull up a chair. Today is shallow day at the LisaGaumond.com blog.
Looking at the calendar just now, it occurred to me that, in less than two months, I will be turning thirty. Thirty. I can't stop saying it. Thirty. How old are you? I'm thirty.
Now, I don't dread turning thirty because I feel old - I've always felt older than I actually was. I've been mentally thirty for years and years, but not I'm going to actually BE thirty. I'm going to be physically thirty.
The physically thirty part is the hardest for me. Walking across campus today, looking at the healthy, young, tan, happy college girls on cell phones everywhere, it hit me: I will never look that good. I've already looked as good as I'll ever look. That year was 1994 and I was a senior in high school. I was a slightly malnourished vegetarian, I was the skinniest I've ever been, my hair was long and full, I was tan and my skin was smooth and freckle-free. Now, twelve short years later, I'm going to be THIRTY.
I have to wear sunscreen and cover-up. I have a bunion. I have spider veins and cellulite. If I get any more freckles, they might actually converge and I'll finally look tan again. I have a bad back. I need glasses. I'm a mess. Thank god I met my husband when I was 14 - if he met me for the first time in 2006, he'd scream and run the other way.
It's not at all fair because he's turning thirty, too. Only I get the privilege eleven days before he does, and I'm sure he's planning to let me know it. Eleven looong days when I'll be thirty and he'll be twenty-nine.
And he gets to look BETTER as he gets older, now that's just wrong. Sure, he complains, but it's only out of courtesy to me. Standing in front of the mirror and admiring how you're aging to perfection is really annoying. If he complains, it makes me feel better. He thinks he's getting a little softer around the edges, but he was too skinny to begin with. He thinks his hairline is receding but only a little on the sides of his forehead which looks like Sting's hair does and really, can that be a bad thing? I can't imagine he'd say the same thing about me - "Oh she complains that she's got spider veins, but I think of it as a lovely purple pattern on the backs of her legs. Like fine marble. They were too plain and boring before, now they have character!" I don't think so.
I'm looking forward to being thirty because I've always felt mentally that old. I'm not a sassy mid-twenties girl who goes to bars and stays out late. I'm a thirty year old. I like quiet nights, reading and gardening. Watching movies. I'll finally be as old as I act and that's fine. I just don't want to FEEL thirty. Does thirty feel nauseous? Cause that's how I feel now.
Looking at the calendar just now, it occurred to me that, in less than two months, I will be turning thirty. Thirty. I can't stop saying it. Thirty. How old are you? I'm thirty.
Now, I don't dread turning thirty because I feel old - I've always felt older than I actually was. I've been mentally thirty for years and years, but not I'm going to actually BE thirty. I'm going to be physically thirty.
The physically thirty part is the hardest for me. Walking across campus today, looking at the healthy, young, tan, happy college girls on cell phones everywhere, it hit me: I will never look that good. I've already looked as good as I'll ever look. That year was 1994 and I was a senior in high school. I was a slightly malnourished vegetarian, I was the skinniest I've ever been, my hair was long and full, I was tan and my skin was smooth and freckle-free. Now, twelve short years later, I'm going to be THIRTY.
I have to wear sunscreen and cover-up. I have a bunion. I have spider veins and cellulite. If I get any more freckles, they might actually converge and I'll finally look tan again. I have a bad back. I need glasses. I'm a mess. Thank god I met my husband when I was 14 - if he met me for the first time in 2006, he'd scream and run the other way.
It's not at all fair because he's turning thirty, too. Only I get the privilege eleven days before he does, and I'm sure he's planning to let me know it. Eleven looong days when I'll be thirty and he'll be twenty-nine.
And he gets to look BETTER as he gets older, now that's just wrong. Sure, he complains, but it's only out of courtesy to me. Standing in front of the mirror and admiring how you're aging to perfection is really annoying. If he complains, it makes me feel better. He thinks he's getting a little softer around the edges, but he was too skinny to begin with. He thinks his hairline is receding but only a little on the sides of his forehead which looks like Sting's hair does and really, can that be a bad thing? I can't imagine he'd say the same thing about me - "Oh she complains that she's got spider veins, but I think of it as a lovely purple pattern on the backs of her legs. Like fine marble. They were too plain and boring before, now they have character!" I don't think so.
I'm looking forward to being thirty because I've always felt mentally that old. I'm not a sassy mid-twenties girl who goes to bars and stays out late. I'm a thirty year old. I like quiet nights, reading and gardening. Watching movies. I'll finally be as old as I act and that's fine. I just don't want to FEEL thirty. Does thirty feel nauseous? Cause that's how I feel now.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Time Flies
Holy cow. Alex is almost one year old. Already sporting a set of pearly whites...
and already walking better than his clumsy Auntie Lisa.
I can't believe how big you're getting! Slow down, would you?
and already walking better than his clumsy Auntie Lisa.
I can't believe how big you're getting! Slow down, would you?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
