Precious light

Working, as I do, in a gray, cold basement 7 hours/day, I have learned even more than I already knew, how important light is. I’m not talking CFL’s, halogen, LED, or any of that crap. Not even incandescent. I’m talking about the sun, bitches. That’s right. That hot, bright orb in the sky that makes this planet a temperate and fertile place for us thankless ingrate humans.

I miss the quality of light in our old house! I miss it early in the mornings, streaming through the living room stained glass windows. The girls used to sit and look at their hands and feet in that jewel-toned light in the a.m. when we were home all the time. That time seems like a long time ago.

Once a month

Is this what 20/20 is destined to be? Once a month I get enough time and energy to write something down other than detailed descriptions of how many minutes and hours I’ve spent doing what I am directed to do? Will there ever be enough space for me to have perspective? Will I always exist in the perpetual now?

  • make lunches
  • fill water bottles
  • kiss kiss and kisses
  • make coffee
  • run out door fifteen minutes late every day
  • get to work
  • work
  • pick up girls
  • drive them home
  • snacks and drinks
  • make dinner
  • play outside
  • make art (the girls, not me)
  • tellie (why do they like the new Scooby Doo so much?)
  • baths
  • teeth
  • books
  • bed.

10:00 p.m.

Stumble around wondering what to do with an hour and a half. Go clean a toilet.

Bed.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Repeat.

Notes from the underground

You know, the sun was shining today when I stepped outside during lunchtime. The temperature was above 30F. My winter coat was unzipped. Something has shifted in Baltimore. Dare I say it? I don’t want the winter back. I don’t. Not for this year. I will be happy to see it again after autumn has passed. But the 2010/2011 winter season can kiss my grits. WHERE’S MY SPRING COAT?! When can I remove my winter kerchief? When can my poor, cooped up children go outside to play again? Is it now????

update

One of the three readers here on 20/20 contacted me today re: the condition of Mimi. I forgot to mention that she does not have appendicitis, Beenie did have a fever, but not strep throat, and other than missing a day of work and school, all is normal–whatever that is.

More soon when I have more than thirty seconds to write.

Don’t forget to floss.

Me, myself, an eye


It’ll be sad to say au revoir to my 2009 Frogs calendar. I’ll just go ahead and say my goodbyes now. Croak. Ribbit. Are those the sounds frogs really make? Adios, rana. Or, rana, adios. Toodle doo.

Christmas? Done. 42 birthday? Over. Bday happened this past Sunday, December 27th. Threw myself a little birthday swaree. Some old friends, some newish friends, five children, three age three, two age 2.5. Two sets of twins, one singleton. I like the little people. I can’t remember what my birthdays were like before they showed up. Boring probably. Drunk. I’m pretty sure they were drunk.

New Years? We’re walking up the street around 8pm to a friend’s place for an hour, coming back home, putting girls to bed, lying on couch. Just a guess. If my sinuses stop draining by then, I’ll have a thimble of scotch or three. I have no tolerance anymore… just one.

I am ready to start the new year. Hello twenty/ten. Where you been all my life? Is that 2010 in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

NORAD tracks santa


Shouldn’t we, as a country, be a bit more concerned about this Santa thing? I mean, S.A.N.T.A. What does that stand for? The fact that NORAD is tracking it should tell you something. I, for one, will not be letting this tipsy, fat, white, bearded man dressed in red felt, edged with white cotton balls in our house or ANYWHERE near my children. I’d rather have the Grinch himself over to steal our two foot tall Charlie Brown Christmas tree, covered in ornaments made of snack boxes and tin foil and roast beast. Santa gets weirder and fatter, more drunk and unpredictable by the year.

Today is day, what, day four? of house arrest by various scourges and the most recent blizzard. Luckily I had a shift in my brain yesterday morning. Where I would usually be yelling at the girls for any number of heinous toddlerish acts, yesterday I found myself, to my own surprise, reasoning with them, staying calm, coming up with solutions rather than just getting really pissed off. This is gonna be THE BEST CHRISTMAS EEEEEAAAAAVVVVVVVEEEEEERRRRRR!

Hot MILFS rock decorative gourds!

mfgourds
Hey y’alls. The sun is lowering in the sky, it is 3:43 in the afternoon. Cool, warm sunshine. Nothing looks like this time of year. And, of course, I have my motherfucking decorative gourd collection sitting on the kitchen table, no wicker fucker this time, tho. Not sure that I have one or really, what one is. I just like the use of the two words together. Really resonates.

My cute little family went to church this morning! We’re trying to do it once a month or so, get the girls used to some kind of spiritual life. My husband’s church is about as liberal a church as I can imagine, myself not being of any particular faith other than humans being good to other humans and animals and the earth. Everyone is welcome at this place, though, and I have no reservations sending the girls into a belief system including everyone no matter what. Bring it. As an old co-worker once said, “I’m trying to put the fear of God into her (her daughter), since she’s not afraid of me.” You get the idea. I am not pushing scary gods or anything, but awareness of greater forces in the universe outside of ones’ self is important. I think so, anyway.

The day has been a good one, this Sunday. Cool, bright. Got home, had a leisurely lunch, girls off to play with blocks and a dead fly I put in a glass baby food jar for observation, on an old tablecloth that belonged to my grandmother, who ruled. Snaps to Margaret! She was an ass-kicker and we used to crack up together all the time. She called me ‘Fred’ after she’d gone down a long list of other names, including my mom and uncle, brother and sister. I can totally relate. Grandmother Margaret also showed me the importance of solitaire, and taught me card-based parlor games, most importantly rummy. I still have the little table she used for cards and fully plan to teach my own daughters the imperative of cards and active, participatory, mindful interaction with other people outside of television and computers.

Now the ladies are chillin’ on the couch, watching Kipper the Dog, resting up until we leave in an hour and-a-half to attend the Great Halloween Lantern Parade down in Patterson Park. This is one bitchin’ parade, fiends. All the beautiful peeps in Bmore arrive to celebrate fall and Halloween and lights and alladat. I’ll take some pics. Keep it up, Sunday, you’re my fun day!