alively

Cold weather! Cold weather!

Potential Jelly Belly flavors, as discussed today at library, or what the popcorn bean tastes like:

• puke
• asshole
• hangover breath

Walking into Fresh Market for dinner after work, I caught a whiff of weed in the parking lot. So did this old guy and he said to me, "Gee, that's one of my favorite smells!"

Listening to the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime on audio -- I started it awhile ago and now I'm back to finish. It's read by someone British which is fitting -- I love when he says maths. That must be about my most favorite British-ism. All my life, I've sucked at maths.

Oh! Boyfriend is home. Yay, yay!

pansy + primrose

You don't have to travel far out of Florida to know that most people cannot wait for winter to end right about NOW. February is sort of winter's last hurrah - at least it is in Portland, though March there is usually chilly and rainy but at least things are starting to turn pink and green and the snow threat? Completely gone. Anyway, I miss winter pansies and primroses, neither of which would do well here for very long. I'm not even sure if I've seen pansies and/or primroses at garden shops down here, but I saw (in a magazine; cannot remember which one off the top of my head) primroses growing indoors, in a terrarium. Oooh, it was so cool.

skeet, skeet

There is something really great about Tuesday night. Jericho!

running vitals for february 25th

Alive?  Check.

we can't push back hamburger day

People say a lot of interesting things -- so I've decided that for a while, my post titles will be quotes from the general public. I don't know what Hamburger Day is, but I do know that to someone, or a lot of people, it's a really special day.

The last two days have had me shopping. Day-long shopping sprees that completely cut my weekend into little tiny bits for easy chewing. Maybe ten years ago, or when I was in high school grades nine through twelve, this would have been something fun. It is no longer fun. It is exhausting and expensive and ridiculous and I might even hate it.

I did take a moment this afternoon to practice more with my calligraphy + lettering, which is quite therapeutic. I wrote a couple of notes and then I was like, damn, I need some cute postage stamps. And then I discovered that in May? Postal rates are rising again! Ugh.

This coming week might suck the life right out of me. I will hopefully post daily to prove I am indeed still alive.

you're a fine girl, you know?

My post title is a quote I scribbled down today at a workshop. A woman said it to herself, about herself. Out loud. In front of a room of relative strangers. And then she giggled this noise that floated on the air of total embarrassment.

Last night the lunar eclipse gave us quite a show! We loved watching it from the backyard.

As the month of March looms, all I am thinking about is really one thing: making lists! The list I made on Monday was proof that I suck at following through, but at least there's record that at one point I had the best of intentions.

So, maybe I'll start with a little list of tomorrow-ish things:

• go get your coffee
• celebrate that you're still Diet Coke-free and Diet-anything free
  
• go buy a dress and shoes for the rehearsal dinner/wedding
• little + black
  
• take a walk
• soak feet
  
• laundry - yeah. again.
• photograph some of your newest Pyrex see below
  
• READ (finish?) The Big Girls

ruh-riculous

I think that's how Scooby Doo would say it -- a one-word summary of my day thus far at library.

 

How this has happened, I'm not sure, but on Monday nights I have come to love watching the New Adventures of Old Christine.  I miss sit-coms.  Julia Louis-Dreyfoos is tremendously tremendous.

mozart morning = coffee + rain + pets

I love holidays like President's Day. A day off in February, a Monday no less, that doesn't require buying people gifts? Give. Me. More. Oh -- my favoritest holiday is Labor Day. Another no-gift Monday off celebrating WORKERS, not presidents. United States of America - you are so good to me.

Today:

• laundry (curiously, this chore never...completely goes away)
• wash, dry, fold, hang
  
• drop off utility bill at my quaint city hall building
• clear desktop
• that's an order
• read through back-issue Bookmarks and make a list of books to read
• officially sign up for NaBloPoMo, March 2008
• mail off the dog picture
• take pictures
• and stick pots in the rain for watering

EDIT (6:30 p.m.)

So carried away by doing things other than what's on my list, I hardly got a thing above done! My desk is partially cleared off -- I was able to recycle a lot of paper and magazines. I planted another pot of impatiens (deep fuchsia)! I began what is already an excellent read ... The Big Girls by Susanna Moore (2007).

pink flamingos

love, felt lots

Oh! I've almost forgotten what it is like to regularly blog. Strange how one week can feel like an entire month...

• Last night I hosted my first bridal-ish shower-ish. It was more of a little party which was a lot of fun -- there were great guests and good (even excellent) conversation. Thank goodness for wine and music and food and pretty plates. Where would we be without those things? However, it was stressful to prepare for such a thing as all my guests were relative strangers. But all turned out quite well. Delight!
  

• A photo from early the day of the party:
  

• I've also learned that NaBloPoMo will now be a monthly, on-going challenge. Which is fantastic. I think I'll begin with March since I should be able to commit -- and it's an extra-long month, coming in at 31 days. Lists. That's the theme. I think I can do that.
  

• In the spirit of last year's front porch florathon, I am once again in the mood to prepare some planted pots. I bought a flat of white impatiens today and put them in rectangular pots, lining the edge of our porch. They look so wimpy now (see picture below)! But I know they'll grow. That's half the fun, anyway. The two pots on the steps -- those are impatiens that I grew from seed last year.

(D. Sergei is back to his old Russian Spy ways.)

• Valentine's Night was very, very special for me -- I came home tired from work and when I flopped into the house, Steve directed me to the bathroom -- where he'd strung up white lights, had a candle burning and a cooler next to the tub, chilling a bottle of Veuve. And then he cooked me dinner. Which was delicious. I am so lucky. A lucky, lucky girl I am. I would tattoo I ♥ Steve across my forehead if he'd let me. He would not let me. But I would.
  

feel the love

Happy Valentine's Day! 

 

From the bottom of my heart. xoxo

ain't skeered

I woke up at 2:30 a.m. and haven't been back to sleep since. My usual alarm goes off in thirty minutes anyway. I'm home alone this weekend. There's a supposed serial killer in Boca. I couldn't sleep. I made some tea, took out the dogs, and then tended to Jane "Feed Me NOW" Kitty in the garage. Last night, in my rage to keep the serial killer from slipping through the 1/4" crack under the garage door, I locked the door between garage and kitchen. Which we never do. Because if the door is locked and you shut it behind you, you are locked in the garage.

A great lesson to learn at 5:00 a.m. on two-ish hours of sleep.

The irony is, I was in a room full of tools. However, MacGuyver-locksmithing, in addition to breaking and entering, in addition to screwdrivers, hammers, and wrenches and sockets means NOTHING to me. I was freaked out of my ever-loving-mind. What if the serial killer is in the garage with me (or in Steve's darkroom, which is also in the garage)? Am I suddenly in that movie, er, Saw? I was fine up until that point. Then I began to cry like a baby. Hold me, Jane. Take me back into the house with you via cat door. Obviously, I got back inside but not that way.

This is a message to Steve. I tore down screens. I probably stripped things bare (various screws I couldn't even begin to, uh, unscrew). I tried picking the lock with a corkscrew that I found on the work bench. I shoved zip ties in places they weren't meant to go. All in all, I think you'd be proud of me. I dropped the window down without breaking a pane of glass and then unlocked the door that way (he knows what I mean).

This is still a message to Steve. YOU CAN NEVER GO OUT OF TOWN AGAIN.

her latest portrait

...demands super hugeness.

bright, sunshiney day

Awww, puppy so cute. Puppy so tired from chewing our blanket. That above was the new quilt coverlet. Now it looks like a Swiss cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off. Though it is suitable for a hobo now, we're going to use it for awhile longer.

And this beautiful arc of love is D. Sergei. Of all the pets, he's the only one that can make Dean pee his pants in sheer panic.



All the nonsense makes him sleep all day long.

tomorrow is really tuesday

Sundays are actually my Mondays, but for the most part they're low key, quiet days that go by quickly.  Weird coincidence:  a woman came in earlier that needed to print out a boarding pass for her flight back to Seattle and I said, "Oh! I'm from Portland!  Can I touch you?"  Just kidding.  But I did mention where I was from, originally, and she grew up in Portland and we went to relatively close high schools.  CRAZY!  Portland Interscholastic League, hey now now!  And then, a bit later, something weird transpired (something weird in the public library - can you imagine?).  A guy asked me where I got the burn mark on my right ring finger.  ER.  What-what?  I was like, this microscopic callous that I get from pressing too hard on my pencils when I write?  That burn mark?  "Yes."  Sometimes the over-observant make me think of serial killers.  

the iron was off

thinking...

About changing my Blogger URL.
"duckmotif" really doesn't mean anything!
It was supposed to, of course, but things have changed.