29 09 2009

I’ve been slacking lately. Even though it’s almost October, I feel like I’m still trying to get into this school-schedule thing. I just keep forgetting things I’m supposed to do and places I’m supposed to be.

(I forgot I was committed to watch my neighbor’s son on Wednesday, and went visiting teaching instead. Oops.)

However, since I do have a couple of free hours everyday when Colby’s napping, I’ve been trying to organize a few things.

Like my hobby room.

I’m about halfway done.

Here’s (part of) my fabric stash, sitting on my bed while I try to sort it out:


Ugh. Seriously.

But now I know what I’ve got and where it’s at, so you all can look forward to receiving some darling flannel burp cloths for Christmas.

Actually, speaking of flannel, I had some leftover scraps from the birthday pennants I made last year sometime. I made another one, and now I’m giving it away.


It’s three yards long and reversible–apples and cherries with hearts on one side, rockets and planets on the other. It’s a great re-usable birthday decoration. I wish I could point you to where I saw it and give that person credit, but it was much too long ago. Sorry. We can just pretend it was my idea, if you want.

Comment on this post and I’ll draw a winner in, oh, say a week.

Congratulations on reading my blog even though it’s been boring lately. You could win. In fact, I hope you all win. That’s just the kind of person I am.

Hitting the Bull’s Eye

22 09 2009

I like boys.

True, they’re always shoving each other or throwing things, but that’s one of the reasons I like them. Which is also why I love volunteering at Cub Scout Day Camp.

(Some of you might be wondering if that’s sarcastic or not. I am the first to admit that my writing occasionally dips into the satirical range, but you can generally tell when this happens by the tone of the piece and extra italics. “I love volunteering at Cub Scout Day Camp” is sarcastic. Without the italics [as in the above paragraph], you can rest assured I honestly love those little Cub Scouts.)

I was able to go with Zack and his troop a couple of months ago. Apparently, some cool mom the day before had participated in the archery portion because Zack excitedly told me about it all day long. When we reached the range, the boys were reminded of some important rules (including the ‘zombie walk’) and then were allowed to shoot with the bows.

After everyone had had a turn, Zack came over to where I was sitting and said, “Come on, Mom. You’ve got to try this.”

He didn’t have to urge too hard; it looked like a lot of fun.

Following protocol, I stood at the rope and said, “Rangemaster, may I please enter the range?”

“Yes, you may,” he said, and pulled aside the string so I could get by.

I’d been watching the boys for fifteen or twenty minutes and listening to the rangemaster give them instructions and tips all the while. I felt fairly confident I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

How does that old saying go again? Oh, yes–pride cometh before the fall.

My feet were lined up right; my elbow was level; my arrow was nocked correctly. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. I closed my right eye and put the bull’s eye in my sights . . .



My arrow kind of tangled up somehow in my bow and my bowstring. It just sort of fell to the cone at my feet.

It was really hard to stop laughing.

The boys (who haven’t yet learned to laugh at themselves) looked on, the pity on their faces seemingly saying, “How embarrassing. I’m sure glad I didn’t do that. Or, even worse, my mom.”

Zack shouted encouragement from the sidelines, while the rangemaster gave me a few tips in proper release.

I listened.


Again, I nocked my arrow. Lined up my feet. Lifted my elbow. Sighted my target. Took a deep breath . . .


Bull’s eye.

That’s right.

Bull’s eye!

I let out what could only be described as a war whoop and raised both arms in the air.

What a rush.

(The boys looked even more embarrassed at this. Are moms not supposed to act that way? Maybe the mom who did it the day before simply shrugged one shoulder and acted nonchalant, as though she does it every day. Hmm. I’ll work on that for next year.)

My next couple of arrows missed the bull’s eye, but they hit the target. Really, I couldn’t ask for anything more. (Except for maybe a Toyota . . .)

The rangemaster gave me a bead to wear on my name tag.

I wore it with pride.




P.S. Does anyone know where I can get a simple bow and a couple of bales of straw? If I end up volunteering on the same day as Archery Mom next year, I want to be ready.

You know it’s going to be a great day when . . .

18 09 2009

. . . it’s time to leave for school and everyone is crying.

Including you.


10 09 2009

I’ve always thought that “Tell me when” was kind of a strange saying. I suppose it’s just a natural way to shorten “Tell me when I’ve poured enough” or “Tell me when you’re satisfied”.


My kids having started school yesterday, I can honestly say it was “when”.


I love summertime, and having the kids home, and doing projects and fun things together.

I love school, and hearing the piano be practiced, and finding out what new things were learned that day.


Right now:

We have had enough summer.

We have had enough willy-nilly sleeping-in-and-having-no-schedule days.

We have had enough entertaining ourselves.








8 09 2009

Yesterday morning, when I had planned to go walking with a friend, a certain redhead waking early made this impossible.

I baked a pie instead.


Exercise: 0.

Baking: 1.


6 09 2009

I am battling with technology and my camera. Uploading photos has become incredibly tedious, although I think I’ve hit on a good size. Due to the learning curve, I’m behind on my blog.

Also, I had hundreds of photos to go through. I take too many, but that’s better than not taking enough, right?

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago two of my best friends took me on a cruise for my birthday.

You read that right.

A cruise.

I have such great friends.

We headed out on a Thursday morning, the early sun only just starting to clear the tops of the tall buildings.


Remember this. There will be a quiz later.


Down on the pier, it was fairly quiet. None of the restaurants were open yet.


I think this might be my favorite photo of the day.


The sky was too hazy to get a really good color, but I liked all the closed umbrellas.


Here are my two beautiful friends, Amie and Tami, making jokes about the paparazzi. (I told them I was just trying to check my exposure.)


My ticket!


We rode a bus to our starting point. I couldn’t help taking a picture (albeit a poor one) of the Space Needle. It’s Seattle’s mascot. In fact, I think if you took a picture of the Seattle skyline without the Space Needle, no one would know what city it was. This is the northeast view. We went all the way around and ended up on the southwest side. 


Our tour guide, John Erik (a theater and Shakespeare major), gave us all sorts of interesting facts about the buildings and bridges we passed. He was a little bit annoying, but his informativeness (is that a word?) outweighed that. I also found it funny that our captain, Christi, called him John Erik a couple of times and then slipped a Chris Erik in there. Double names are so confusing!


I took many, many bridge pictures, but I won’t foist even half of them on you. There’s just something about a bridge that completely fascinates me.


There were lots of corporations right along the water. I can’t even imagine the worth of their real estate.


Real live tugboats.


The name of our ship. I got a lot of mileage out of that. (And the jokes never got old, either.)


This is a reflection of the three of us when we went through the lock. It makes me wish I would have spent the $10 for the cheesy photo they took of us before we started. At least you could see us in that one. Hindsight . . .


This is our boat, with the lock closing behind us. Look how high we are compared to the railing.


Now look at the railing. It’s ingenious. We went from a freshwater lake (Lake Elliot, I believe) to the salt water of the Puget Sound.


Coming around the horn . . .

There’s definitely a different smell on the ocean, and the water even frothed differently. As we went past this wooded spot, John Erik pointed out the various places where landslides have crashed homes onto the rocks below. I only had my short lens, though, so I didn’t get any pictures.


Again, the Space Needle . . .


And another. (I think this is its best side.)


That little building on the far right was built around the turn of the century, and it was the tallest building in the Seattle skyline until the 60s. That’s a lot of construction over the past 50 years.


The building in the middle (formerly known as the Washington Mutual Building; I’m not sure if it’s still called that or not, and John Erik didn’t say) has been voted the “nicest looking skyscraper” in Seattle for several years running. (Raise your hand if you knew buildings had beauty contests. Not me.)

We spent about 2 1/2 hours on the boat, and it was completely lovely. The perfect day for a cruise.


Afterwards, we ate here, where I had the best pizza of my life, I think. Incidentally, we also had a great view of this from the balcony:


I couldn’t tell you which side this is.

I’m all for iconic, but its omnipresence is almost a little creepy.

It’s Outta Here!

1 09 2009

Zack came into my room last night to show me his tooth (the one that’s been loose all summer) and how he could make this really cool squiltching noise with it.

“Can you twist it?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

Then he twisted and said, “Oh.”

I looked over and he had a tooth in his palm.

Oh happy day, caloo, calay and all that.


I realize that’s probably much more of my son’s mouth than you probably wanted to see, but I’m working with a new photo program. There are still (obviously) a few kinks. But the reflection of me in his pupil is pretty cool.