The only thing embedded around here is the grime.
Wow! Snapshirts can create a t-shirt using your blog. (Tip o’ the Swiffer: Mental Multivitamin via Quietlife.) How cool is that, to wear your blog?
Hmm. I see the phrase “life like little mama.” Creepy.
Go try it! It’s fun, and you don’t have to purchase the shirt you make. They have word clouds of famous authors, too.
My very own mama sent me a link to this very wonderful site: Science of Cooking. Lots of good stuff – including a discussion on dietary laws, a tour of an organic egg farm and forums to ask other cooks advice and share tips and tricks. They have a virtual pickle lab, directions on how to make a salt sculpture, and a microscopic look at the process of making bread.
What a great site to get you into the kitchen and get messy with the kids. Enjoy!
At least now we know for sure that they produce raving nuts like this abroad as well as here at home – and in the birthplace of Catholicism, no less: Jesus goes ‘on trial’ in Italian court.
Vowing to strike Jesus from history, an Italian atheist took his legal crusade against the Church to court on Friday asking a judge to open a formal trial over whether Christ existed.
“Jesus is fiction,” said Luigi Cascioli. “The Church is fooling the people — and must be held responsible.”
After a year of fever journaling, doctor visits, specialist visits, and diagnosis confirmation… nothing. It has been over two months since the Princess had a PFAPA fever spike. And her last one was a light case – only a day and a half.
Amazing, no? Well, it is to me.
For a year, we dealt with missed holidays, sick days from school, and miserable stretches of days on the couch. Plans always had to be flexible, because every three weeks or so, she was going to be out of commission for a bit. It was heartrending, seeing her suffer. And now… well, nothing. And nothing never felt so good.
She got to be healthy for her first girly-girl birthday party. She skated through Christmas and New Year’s. No monthly sick leave from AWANA. No missed piano practice. (Sorry, Princess, there has to be some downside to this.) And the nothing keeps on coming! I could really get used to a whole lot of nothing. Go ahead, gimmie more of that big, beautiful nothing.
I only wish I knew what was going on with this – the worst is the not knowing for sure. I wish I could zap her with the temporal scanner and it would say, “Lucky kid! It’s all cleared up! No more PFAPA for you!”
While looking for information on skipped episodes, I found this site that has a ton of good information, and not a little humor. Dr. Long sounds like someone I’d like to meet. But nothing about kids just dropping the syndrome and spontaneously recovering.
Hopefully we’ll be able to tuck the fever journal into the memory box with the tutus and her first soccer uniform. I’d like for it to be just a memory for her.
For the first time since before Christmas it didn’t rain at all today. We even got some sun! And warmth! So we called off school early and headed outside to garden and assemble my new compost bin.
What a riot. The Bear volunteered to help by putting half-rotted leaves in the bin. (Leaf by leaf.) The Princess sequestered herself in a corner of a yard to dig holes for mouse houses and to find worms to pet. And I finally deadheaded the daisies that have been hanging their rotted heads like some kind of Tim Burton character since November.
The Princess grinned, “It feels good to get my hands grubby again!” And it did.
During nap time I finally got the bulbs out. Every time I went out to the garage they would stare at me dolefully and quietly sprout a little more, hoping I would take the hint. Today it was now or never. Who knows when we will get sun again.
Poor things! I had gone totally bulb crazy in the fall. In a fit of Dutch inspiration, I bought hyacinths, crocuses, two different kinds of daffodils, and three different kinds of tulips. Then I put them on the garage shelf and said I would plug them in later. And then kids got sick and then it was time to put up the Christmas lights and then it was time to take them down and pretty soon I noticed that last year’s bulbs are coming up and I am so very far behind.
So today I got them aaaall in, and in less than an hour. Man, I am grubby indeed.
I love the idea of bulbs. It’s like hiding secrets. You can plant them and put them out of your mind and in the spring they wiggle their green shoots out of the cold soil and surprise you all over again. Too bad I like the idea of bulbs, and not the idea of planting them. The planting’s the thing.
But now they are out there, and they will either bloom or rot in the ground. But at least they won’t rot in the bag. I hope they do okay.
Update: *&#@! squirrels! I’ll teach those cute little rats to dig up all my hard work. Now, where’s my cayenne pepper?!
Seattle Public Utilities are getting all CSI on us. (Well, not me specifically – I only spend about a day at a time there, scooting on the outside “Just Visiting” lane.) Now the garbage collectors can paw around in your trash to determine if more than 10% is recyclable, the legal limit.
And woe to the naughty little monkey who exceeds his ration of soda cans in the garbage! SPU will leave a nasty little note saying, “Bad! Bad citizen! One more violation, and you go straight to eco-hell! Big Brother is watching!”
Well, not really. But they do leave your garbage uncollected (no word on whether they rub your nose in it first and give you a whack with a rolled-up newspaper) with a note warning you of a $50 fine if you pull this stunt again.
Green issues are the one thing that will make me lean left, and I realize that living in a city means giving up some freedoms, but this is just plain silly.
Where are the civil libertarians who should be screaming over this? Off with their silly giant-sized Bush puppets, marching against Halliburton, I suppose. When did it become okay to pass a law about how many pizza boxes a private citizen can have in the trash? It seems like a much better idea to create positive incentives, not to mention hitting big industry – with it’s higher volumes and larger impact – with tighter regulations before you get anywhere near the average Joe.
After a week or two of lots to say, I’m afraid I’ve dried up and shriveled a bit. Suddenly, the effluvia of my life seems really, really boring and my writing flow has hit the breaks with one of those cartoon skidding noises.
So now seems a good time for Marvin Olasky’s column on DQ.
Three decades ago I became a Christian and began to understand the centrality of what could be called SQ, spiritual quotient. In recent years we’ve rightly heard more talk of EQ, emotional quotient. But, in this land of opportunity that America still is, one more Q factor is crucial: This is DQ country, and by that I mean not Dairy Queen but Determination Quotient.
Read the whole thing – it’s brilliant.
What lovely vomit Planned Parenthood passes off as merchandise. T-shirts, Christmas cards, and now key chains with God handing Adam a condom. Sometimes my jaw drops at how howlingly stupid people can be. I mean down-to-the-core, rock-bottom, knock-’em-in-the-head-hey-it-could-only-help stupid.
May I instead suggest some sanity? Perhaps a bumper sticker from Libertarians for Life. Even snazzier, some Covetable Stuff from Feminists for Life. (Ooh, I want one of their black shirts…)
Sheryl has declared it National Delurking Week! So click on my comment link and leave me proof of you presence.
It doesn’t have to be impressive or well thought out. But I will tell you that the wittiest comment will receive a genuine figment of my imagination. So there.
