not-so-triumphant torture

my worst fear in life: attack by insects, namely ones with long lanky legs

this morning started off great.
our usual saturday morning pancakes
laughter as foster jumps on the couch cushions in hungry anticipation

suddenly, out of the corner of my heightened bug senses
i see it.
scampering at lightning speed across the kitchen floor:
my nemesis.
a huge centipede breed with 1000 long hairy legs
and an "i dare you" attitude.

with jungle-cat-like-reflexes, i spring into action
one gumbi arm stretches the width of our kitchen
and grasps a large "man size" glass mug
(so heavy in fact that i literally must use two hands to sip from it)
but not today.

this mammoth was not getting away.
it was going to pay dearly for trespassing on my laminate.

my other gumbi arm places the mug over the varmint
and he immediately scales the glass walls in a feverish attempt to escape.

not today, my friend. not today.

foster and i watch from a distance as the leggy intruder
flings himself to and fro beneath his glass imprisonment.

my skin is still crawling at the thought of him.

i decide to further my torture by spraying a lethal dose of bug spray
under the mug so as to successfully inoculate the creature and send him into
the afterlife within moments.

i gaze proudly as he squirms under the powerful fumes

"hooray!" i spout with glee..."the bug is dying!"

his tentacles begin to atrophy and he starts to fidget with terror
as death sets in.

my sweet little boy
(who i apparently failed to notice during my triumphant torture session)
looks up at me with his big sad brown eyes and says:

"but, mommy, i like bugs!!!"


picnic hugs

my small plot

have you ever looked up and pondered how big the trees are?
if you look straight up the tree trunk of a big old sicamore
you can get a bit dizzy at it's tall stature.

but then, looking up, you notice an airplane flying high above the trees
it's passengers and peanuts and crunchy ice filled cups
sliding along.
they don't know i am looking at them.
i'm too small.

but then above the plane is the clouds...
then above the clouds is the atmosphere...
and above the atmosphere is infinate space...

every space traveler, i'm sure, has marveled for the rest of their years
at the infinate space of the universe.
the billions of light years it would take
to arrive at a distant star
only to find yourself still billions of light years away from another one

my thoughts travel back to me.
standing on my small plot of yard.
watching foster "mow" the grass.
i have to make lunch in a few minuets
get rowan out of bed
pack out little bag and meet up with some friends.
oh and then this afternoon i need to pay the bills
fold 7 loads of laundry
vaccume because we have company coming over tomorrow
then i'm off to work until 11 pm or so
the list goes on and on

but somehow, amazingly

He still knows i'm here. even with all the sycamores
and puffy clouds and atmospheric pressure
and infinate light years away stars of the greatest magnitude.

my little problems seem to fade away
in comparrison to all of these things that are so huge.

but not to Him.

today i stand in my small plot of grass...amazed.


chalk talk, ladybugs and zig zags

sitting on a lawn chair wearing my bare feet
foster and i spent the morning picking flowers
and scouting ladybugs while rowan was snoozing.

armed with a peice of orange chalk in one hand
my trusty camera in the other
i looked down. there in front of me, i noticed something.

our asphalt walkway

probably built in the 1970's, it is the thorn in our house's stoop.
there's no way around it.
you must tread upon it all the way to our door.
soon to be remodeled by my talented clinto,
it's ugly, and old and everything that you don't want to have in front of your house.

most days i look in discust at its uglyness
but today
as our bright chalk drew perfectly on it's dark compextion
i was strangely thankful for it

for the rest of the day
as i walked to and frow
in and out

i smiled at our chalk talk
our pictures of flowers and ladybugs and zig zags
the ugly asphalt was our canvas.
it's not ugly anymore.


i'm loving you

today i'm dreaming of you.
you don't even know it.
maybe you aren't born yet
maybe you are.
but to me, you are already here
growing deep within my heart
deep within where love grows.

someday you may wonder when i first loved you.
someday you may ponder how you came to be.
someday i will tell you your story and shower my words of love
someday you will be mine to have and to hold and to keep
someday i will kiss your little cheeks for the first time
someday i will tell you i love you for the first time
but then again, my heart tells you everyday.
someday my arms will hold you and you won't be so far away.

my little girl.
my little china girl.
i'm finding you soon.
don't cry my sweet little one.
you are not forgotten.
you are not alone.
i'm loving you my lovie
i'm loving you everyday


i had a dream. the internet killed it.

it's official.
i'm mad at the internet.
furious with html code.
purple with palpable irritation at the thought of a file manager.
erroniously pertrubed with "hostgator", "hostmonstor" or anything related to hosting.

i had a dream.
the internet killed it.

if you know me, you know when i get a crazy hair brained idea, i get excited. i mean, really excited. i devote all of my energetic energy into my craziness. i daydreamed of news worthy articals covering the story of a stay at home mom turned mogule in a rags to riches story of one woman's determination coupled with innovative lovely sellables that turned the world of small buisness topsy-turby. i can see it now: bloomingdales wanting to buy out my product line. google wanting to purchase my catchy website name. bill gates wanting to know website secrets.

but nevermind.
my dreams: squashed.
my hopes: shattered.
my internet mega-store: a fleeting memory.

i have a question for all of you reading this....

(ok there are probably only three of you that have managed to stick with this rediculous blog and read down this far)

all of these random people have websites.
all of these random people have websites that sell things, and market things, and produce things.
how do they do it?

-i spent 207 hours on this website thing-a-majig (which is sad)

-i spent 104 of those hours crying out of pure frustration (which is even sadder)

-i became so frustrated that it made me want to spit (which is what my mom says when she's really mad)

i'll admit that i'm pretty good at figuring things out, or figuring out a way to figure them out.

but i have found something that has eluded me:
a website.

congratulations internet.
one more dream sprung from a hopeful heart...squelched in the grip of your iron clad codes and mind boggling access numbers.

so long.
i'm never using you again.

well, ok, fine. you win.
i'm using you right now to write about never using you again.
i loose, yet again.
i will probably use you almost everyday for the rest of my years.
but i won't like it.
not one bit.
i'm still mad at you.

check it out if you like water logged nemos, or flying people, or awesome action photography, or just something to make you smile.



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