She’s apparently accustomed herself to the breakneck cosmopolitan pace of Kindergarten and the simple pleasure of sitting on Mom’s lap was reduced to a clingy, whiny mopefest of how bored she was–at the same time she could barely move without seal-coughing loud enough to attract big bull sea-lions from the nearest bay. I was going to send her to school this morning so I didn’t kill her (or at least yell at her again!) and also because I’m the art docent today (and tomorrow) and I really sort of don’t want to make Mate come home to watch the kids so I can go to their school, because there is just something fundamentally and karmically wrong with that, we all know it!
So, there we were, rooting for her cough to go away and her fever to not return (it didn’t) and then, at two o’clock in the morning, Zoomboy did an unexpected thing: He requested permission (I am not lying about this) to throw up.
“What?” I asked, unaware that he had even crawled into bed with us.
“I think I’m going to throw up. Can I go into the bathroom and use the toilet?”
“By all means!” Mate barked, horrified (and not sure if he could race to the end of the hallway in time, as he has during pukies past!)
This morning? He was fine. Seriously. No bullshit fine. Jumped up, went and picked out a shirt for him and a complementing shirt for Squish. We were thrilled. And he gets to be there when I come into his class and talk about Degas and Lautrec and Renoir and Carnival, and then make little paper figures connected with brads to show movement, and I’m really pleased and I really hope I don’t foul this up.
And, uhm, speaking of foul.
See, I wrote a story about this object to the right. It’s funny. It’s cute. Roxie can vouch that the sex is not gratuitous, and that the romantic payoff is worth the abuse of knitwear. And then I put the pattern for the object to the right in the story. And knitted up a sample. And my editor wanted a picture. So there I was, outside, trying to take a picture of the object to the right in front of my house, when the mail lady came by to deliver the mail.
She really had no comeback, explanation, or comprehension when I explained that I had written a pattern and I needed a picture to go with it. She literally didn’t know where to go with that.
And there is a sort of war going on for the space on my phone–with three participants trying to outdo the other. See, my friend Mary Calmes who loves me keeps sending me texts full of eye-candy… the picture of my favorite Winchester boys here is only one, and it’s really one of the few that might not have some sort of artistic licensing thing to it (because I’ve been DYING to post the others because they’re PRETTY!) and, well, they really do make my day.
And then Chicken realized what was going on, and SHE started sending me pictures that SHE found on line. This demotivator poster cracks me up every time, but trust me– she finds PLENTY of free pictures of boys kissing, just to crowd up my phone. She and Mary have been having a war–they will randomly send me hot pictures of pretty boys and I will pass them along, but in the meantime, the picture card on my phone is getting FULL!
And then, probably without realizing it, Elizabeth got in on the deal. She sent me some motivating pretties from God-with-a-camera, Dan Skinner, who did the cover for Clear Water, and whose tasteful, non-nekkid pictures just got BANNED FROM FACEBOOK because of the two-guy content. Which is why I put the Dan Skinner picture up top. Because it’s beautiful, and, well, I sort of wanted the world to know that there MUCH WORSE THINGS on frickin’ Facebook than that.
And also because Elizabeth said it reminded her of Green’s Hill. And I miss Green’s Hill. Quickening is not coming along quickly at all–I keep having to make way for things that pay the rent, and my Little Goddess is languishing in her pregnancy. I will get there… but in the meantime, it’s lovely to have a picture that reminds me of someplace I really love.
And I think that’s all… because seriously, I don’t really know where to go with that….