Small-town Saturday night

Er, well, Tuesday night, in this case.

Either way, this is pretty much how I’d like to spend it:


I don’t know if it’s the weather or what, but I’m just not feelin’ the whole responsible adult thing right now. Catch ya on the flip side!

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.


“It’s fun to stay at the YMCA!”

Miss Tadpole had her annual pops concert at school tonight. They sang some fun songs, including the Happy Days theme song and “You’ve Got a Friend In Me” from Toy Story (which almost made me tear up as I thought about the end of Toy Story 3).

Then they sang “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” from The Lion King, and Seymour started singing along. That happened last year, too, when the chorus sang “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid.

I love that our family loves Disney tunes. Seriously, I think sometimes Seymour and I like them more than the kids.

Last but not least, they did “YMCA,” which the teacher insisted was an audience participation kind of song. I don’t think you could have stopped people from participating. The only thing that stopped me (and I don’t even really like that song) is that I was trying to record the thing, and I didn’t think the video would turn out well if I started dancing along in my seat. 🙂

My foot, though – I couldn’t keep it from tapping along, even if I’d wanted to. That’s one catchy song. 🙂

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Spring into…winter?

It seems Mother Nature can’t make up her mind about what season this is supposed to be. We had a thunderstorm Friday that was quickly followed by a snowstorm, which meant my drive home from work was super interesting.

It also meant that my drive to work yesterday morning was super pretty.


Luckily, the ice hadn’t yet melted when I went home, so I was able to shoot these beauties. But pictures don’t really do them justice – these trees, they were silver. And iridescent. It was such a beautiful day to be out!

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.


Kids say the darndest things

IMG_20160615_195025Seymour: “Okay, Cricket, time to get ready for bed.”

Cricket: *instant tears*

Seymour: “What’s the matter, buddy?”

Cricket: “Now I don’t get to do chores!”

My sweet little Cricket came home from CCD the other night with a collection box. Apparently they’re collecting money to buy rice for those less fortunate, and he is so excited to help. He told Seymour on the way home from church that he needed fifteen dollars, expecting Seymour to just hand it over, from the sounds of it. Seymour told him he could earn some money by doing chores, so he came home all excited to help Bubbles do the dishes.

And then the world ended when he didn’t get to stay up past bedtime to help.

This isn’t the first time Cricket’s been so gung-ho about helping others in need. When a local family lost literally everything but the clothes on their backs the day after Christmas, he was all set to donate half the things in his room (whether they were his to donate or not). And when I told him that they probably didn’t need his old copies of Ranger Rick as much as they needed clothes to wear and that his were either too small or too big to give them, he decided that his classroom  at school might want them.

The older I get, the less sure I am that I have this whole parenting thing down. But for my six-year-old to have a heart this big, I must be doing something right.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Lake of Fog

It was rainy and dreary here on Monday, then foggy as anything yesterday morning. Nothing inspires me quite the way fog and rain do, especially at this time of year. Add to that “Gretchen am Spinnrade,” which has been getting a lot of play on my iPod, and I quickly found myself in Inspiration City. This piece has been brewing for a couple of days, and I hope you like it. 🙂

The steady beat of the rain on the glass echoed the steady beat of her tears on the floor. The fog on the lake mirrored the fog in her soul, and she wore it the way she’d have worn a comfy old coat. If she could just find him, she could make him see. If she could just find him, then she’d be free.

But the fog hid more than her drooping frame, and the rain did wash freedom’s sun away. She searched through the windows, tore open the door, but the fog hid her love forevermore. She climbed up the mountain, looked high and low, but the fog hid everything in the valley below.

Then a flash caught her eye and without hesitation, she stepped into the sky. She dove toward the lake where he’d rested his head on a pillow of stone, with sand for a bed. But a trick of the light was all it had been, and the freezing cold water welcomed her in. The bitter blue waves stole every breath; with tears in her eyes, she at last greeted Death.

The steady beat of the rain on the glass echoed the steady beat of her tears on the floor. The fog on the lake mirrored the fog in her soul; she wore it the way she’d have worn a comfy old coat. If she could just find him, she could make him see. But she never could find him; she’ll never be free.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Power up!

Did you know I have superpowers? I do! Really! 😀 They include, but are not limited to:

  • Telling bad jokes.
  • Recognizing actresses from one 30-second scene in a movie that came out 27 years ago in something new.
  • Having passable good grammar skills.
  • Knowing an impossible amount of random useless trivia.
  • Making my family laugh.

A while back, Seymour and I were discussing what our superpowers would be if we had them, which got me thinking about things I’ve done that a much younger me never ever even considered as life possibilities. We decided that my superpowers would involve bad jokes and grammar, and my new favorite joke was actually a product of this conversation:


Yes, yes, I know – they’re both groaners. But if I can’t let my nerd flag fly here, then where the heck can I?

How about you – what are your superpowers?

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

A work in progress

Work on my novel continues…slowly. I’m my own worst critic, I know, but it’s very hard to turn that inner critic off.

Still, I didn’t think this bit was all that bad:

It was then that he noticed the silence. Riverdell was a small, quiet town, but it had nothing on this place. Even on the quietest night in Riverdell, there was always traffic thrumming in the distance. Electricity sang through the power lines; streetlights hummed on otherwise dark streets; kids toting stereos pumped up the bass loud enough to rattle a whole building.

There was none of that here. There was only the wind in the trees here, tall grass waving in the breeze, a cricket choir backed by a bug band singing him to sleep.

It was another beautiful day here today, and the warmth of the sun has been most welcome. I hope you’re all having a fantastic weekend!

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Expecting Valentines

A friend of mine posted the following on Facebook:

“Every year there are a lot of “my husband/partner gave me X today – he’s/she’s so wonderful!” on Valentine’s day*. And yes, my hubby brought home a dozen roses (and a giant penguin earlier in the week) and while those things are great, he is not a wonderful husband because of them. He’s a wonderful husband because he listens to me, even when he doesn’t care about what I’m saying. He hugs me when I’m sad, even if he has to stop what he’s doing. He wastes his day to take me pokemoning, when he’d rather be playing his video games. He works hard ten plus hours a day, without complaining (more than normal), then comes straight home. He doesn’t blow our money on booze, or drugs, or gambling, he doesn’t get into trouble. He’s monogamous. He’s smart, funny, and most of all, he tries – not just once a year, but 360 days (hey, everyone takes a few days off, right?) And for that, I am very lucky.

*I’m not knocking those posts. I think it’s sweet that the recipients are excited and grateful.”

I read it this morning and couldn’t help thinking of my husband. He really doesn’t do Valentine’s Day, which makes the fact that he brought me home a bouquet of tulips yesterday all the more surprising. Gift-giving on Valentine’s is expected, and he doesn’t like being expected to give me a gift just because society says he should.

When Seymour first explained how he feels about Valentine’s Day, I have to admit…