Saturday, October 31, 2009

Happy Halloween

Here's a picture of my creepy basement sure to chill your soul...

We'll most likely be trick-or-treating at the mall tonight, rather than braving the cold and snow.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

Here are some photographs from Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, taken on a trip to New York several years ago.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Halloween Countdown

According to the ticker on my husband's computer, there are fifteen days left until Halloween 2009. If my tired brain were capable of doing simple math, I might have looked at the date and told you the same thing. In honor of my favorite holiday, here are some old pictures...

Friday, September 18, 2009

The Pink Teddy Bear of Victory

My earliest memory is of this pink teddy bear. My father’s co-workers pooled their money together to buy it for my older sister.

Heather contracted bacterial meningitis when she was three. Her condition worsened rapidly, and doctors feared that she wouldn’t live through the night. My mother remembers that they let me into the room to see her. Heather was poofy with steroids, and I ran to her, trying to say her name. “Heaf-her! Heaf-er!” I cried. My mom remembers that the nurses were crying, too, at what they thought might be our last good-bye. Heather put her arms around me, and said “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Thankfully, Heather lived. The doctors called her a “miracle baby.” Seeing this picture always reminds me of how close we came to losing her, and how grateful I am to have had such a wonderful friend all these years.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Think Tink

My daughter is uber-excited for Halloween. We have a ticker running on her Daddy's laptop, and it looks like we're down to 44 excruciating days. Of course, she already has her costume. She begs to wear it or her sequined-pumpkin Halloween shirt every day.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Pronouns, Pronounced

Violet informed me the other day that she is a girl, and I am a girl. But Daddy is a boy, and therefore, a “he.” She then completed the thought by saying we were “sheses.”

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


My daughter is thrilled that we are finally in the Wyoming (pronounced: Why-no-ning) house. And I am thrilled that it’s an old house (built 1915). Don’t tell my husband, but I am in love with the laundry chute. I don’t want him to get suspicious as I linger in the hallway, excitedly throwing the socks and underwear through and listening to the dull thud as the clothing hits the basement floor. I am also in love with the natural lighting in the house.

Violet is looking forward to flying her kite in the Wyoming wind. I am looking forward to getting all of our stuff (some is being sent from Korea, some is in storage in South Dakota, and 17 boxes have arrived from Boise). Then again, I’ll be sad when we have furniture again. That means the toilet won’t purr at me anymore, because Nermal will have better places to hide and won’t be cowering behind the fixtures…

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Dragging my shiny red heels with Dorothy

I am in need of a heart, a home, a brain, and da nerve. Can one pick up such trifles at a garage sale?

Monday, June 29, 2009

Couldn't Resist

I'm totally throwing an Ativan into the washer the next time it gives me trouble...

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Goodbye, Earl: 1933-2009

My grandfather, Earl W. Clay, passed away on June 15th. He and my grandmother were married for 57 years. I am relieved that he is no longer in pain, but now I wish there were something more I could do for my grandmother to ease the agony of her loss. One of grandpa's last wishes was that there was to be no funeral: instead, we had a gathering at my grandma's house on Father's Day. There were a lot of old pictures of my grandpa that I'd never seen before, and my cousins made a really awesome slideshow to commemorate grandpa and grandma's life together. It was really good to spend time with my family, despite the sad circumstances. I will try to get some photographs up later today...

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Yeah, it's Cool

There is a trundle bed in my room. Occasionally, Violet sleeps in my room, and I roll out the lower portion of the bed for myself. Last night, she planned our sleeping arrangements: "We're gonna sleep in your room. I'm gonna sleep on the top, and you're gonna sleep on the bottom. Is that cool?"

Sunday, April 26, 2009


The world's sweetest (and arguably, fattest) wiener dog, Skipper, is currently in surgery having a rock removed from his stomach.

Nothing but thoughts of sunshine and ice cream cones going your way, little dude.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Learning Process

My daughter's evolution from baby to big kid has been nothing if not entertaining. She can count from one to ten, but after that, creativity kicks in.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Thirteen, seventeen, eleventeen..."

Recently, Violet has also started to comment on social behavior. A few weeks ago, on the way back from the zoo,we were walking along the Greenbelt by the Boise River. It was quite warm outside, and Violet stopped in her tracks when she spotted a young man who had taken his shirt off. Aghast, she pointed.

"Mamma, is he naked?" She asked, and then, without waiting for my reply, she proclaimed, "He's naked!"

The man burst out laughing, and I explained to Violet that it's okay for boys to take their shirts off when the weather is warm. She seemed skeptical, but eventually accepted my explanation.

Violet’s language skills have also been expanding at an enormous rate, though she still makes up nonsense words to some of her favorite songs. Many of her more adorable mistakes are grammatical: she uses the pronouns "he" and "she" interchangeably. "I miss my Daddy," she sighs. "I miss her." Expressing her distaste for a variety of things, she often whines, "I can't want it."

Speaking of things she can’t want, we were watching her new Meet the Robinsons DVD the other day. The special features include two music videos. We watched the video for “Little Wonders,” by Rob Thomas, which Violet seemed to enjoy. Morbidly curious, because I’d never heard them before, I then selected the video by the Jonas Brothers.

About 20 seconds in, Violet scrunched up her nose and exclaimed, “I can’t like this.”

I guess a big part of growing up is realizing that most boy bands suck.

Saturday, April 11, 2009


An explanation of Easter, for Violet: "Jesus rose from the dead, and you get chocolate. It's a win-win situation."

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Trials of Adolescence

This is me, in junior high school, shortly before my theatrical debut in the renowned musical "The Trial of the Big, Bad Wolf."

Despite my peppy poodle skirt, I'm wearing a truly dour expression. I'm pretty sure my grumpiness resulted from the scary clown makeup applied by my sister (she of the fish lips, posing behind me). By today's standard, I'd say I look pretty emo. Which is funny, because I remember being very excited to participate in the production, even though I was only a member of the jury.

On a somewhat related note, it is one of my impossible dreams to be cast as a jury member in ANY variation of "Law & Order." Though I would prefer to be a corpse.

Monday, April 6, 2009


As much as I would enjoy coming up with some sort of scathing social commentary, time has not been my friend as of late. I constantly make plans to sit down and create, but these fleeting thoughts remain simple and apparently unrealistic ambitions. I know that I need to schedule time to write, every day, especially if I ever hope to finish anything. But it's the schedule part that eludes me. Our days have been simultaneously full and empty, filled with menial tasks that I wish I could put off. In addition, Violet's naps have been few and far between lately, so I've had very little time to myself.

That being said, I need to wash the sheets and sweep/mop the floors. But not before I take Violet to the park. There are many things left to do inside the house, but we definitely need to get out of it...

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Tell-Tale Bangs

After about fifteen years of having long, straight, boring hair, I decided to get a trendy haircut. I started with a bob about a year ago, but my recalcitrant hair thought that such a style required too much maintenance. I couldn't even get both sides to curve inward, even with the liberal use of mousse, a curling iron, and hairspray. So as of late, I've decided to keep the bangs and grow the rest of my hair out.

As much as I love my severe little bangs, they decided to develop their own personality and rebel against me. If I have my wet hair wrapped in a towel for even a few minutes, my bangs think it is their duty to stick straight up for the remainder of the day. If I've been lying down (or, wonder of wonders, sleeping) for any measure of time, my bangs also gravitate toward the ceiling. It's as if they're revolting against the very idea of my being rested. We'd like to point out, lazy ass, they seem to hiss, that you've been sleeping on the job again.

My options are grim, at best. I can continue on, and try to peacefully coexist with my bangs. I can spend an hour a day trying to browbeat them into submission. I can also go through the lovely awkwardness of the growing-out phase, in the hopes that they will eventually rejoin the ranks of the rest of my hair. I have a feeling that I will instead reach the breaking point, shave my head, and just start over.

On that note, I must prepare to trim my daughter's bangs before they take over her face...

Monday, March 30, 2009

Forget Spring

My daughter dressed herself yesterday morning. Despite the fact that it snowed the day before, something tells me she's ready for summer...

Friday, March 13, 2009

Spooky Resemblance

This was one of our family's first cats, Spooky.

And here is my beloved kitty Turbo.

Noticing a pattern here?

Monday, March 9, 2009

Now We Need a Bawdy Shot

So it turns out that William Shakespeare might not have been the garden gnome we thought he was. Judging by this newly revealed portrait, he was actually kind of hot. Not Joseph Fiennes hot, of course, but still not bad.

Fun time-waster for the day: Shakespearean Insult Generator

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind." ---A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I, Scene I

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


My father passed away seven years ago today. There are no words to describe how much we miss you, Dad. So here are some pictures...

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Butt, Head

I have been ill since Thursday night. Even as recently as last night, I spent most of my evening on the toilet, liquefying my assets, as I believe Phyllis Diller once described it.

This morning, my daughter woke up a bit earlier than normal. I brought her into my bedroom and proceeded to change her out of her diaper. She looked at me sympathetically, and then she spoke:

"I'm so sorry you're sick in your head."

What? I thought. Which of my imaginary friends have you been talking to??

Violet seemed to reconsider her statement, and then corrected herself: "I'm sorry you're sick in your butt."

Ignoring my aching stomach for the first time in days, I laughed...

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Sodiyummy Goop

In honor of my mother, I have created a poll regarding our last near-attempt at making Salisbury steak. I hope popular vote may finally settle this months-old debate.

Is there cream of mushroom soup left in this house?
No way, Jose.
It was last seen next to the dead Grape Nuts.
There's probably something resembling COM soup in the back of the fridge...
Absolutely. With faith, all things are possible. free polls

Just one of the interesting items I found at Dave Barry's blog...

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Notes from the Uninspired Slacker

If you ever stop by this blog, you've no doubt noticed how incredibly infrequent my posts have been these last few months.

It seems that as soon as I adjusted to living here, it was time to prepare for my husband to come home. Now, he has one week left on his midtour before they ship him back across the world for another half-year (read: ETERNITY).

I have a feeling that writing drivel will somehow help me maintain my already tenuous connections to sanity. I also plan to update the film blog more often as well, because the signs are clear, and it seems that I will never amount to anything more than a big, fat entertainment whore.

For now, I'm going to finish my coffee, and silently dread my husband's departure.

(Furrows brow).

Friday, January 23, 2009

Not That Kind of Rain, Dear

My daughter has said a few priceless things over the holiday season that I’ve been meaning to write down. Here, for your reading pleasure, are some random bits of cuteness…

In the middle of her bath one day, Violet looked distraught. Worried, I inquired as to whether she needed to get out and use the potty. “No,” she replied haughtily, “I no hafta use the potty. I left my pee-pee in the tub.”

Close friends of ours, Paula and JC, have a five-month old son named Matteo. Violet has seen him several times recently, but has only sporadically mastered the pronunciation of his name. Instead, she calls him "Mr. Tay-o" and "Mr. Potato Head," alternately.

There was a small gathering at my grandparents’ house to celebrate their 57th anniversary on Christmas Eve. Paula was passing out gifts to various members of the family. She handed Violet a gift and instructed her to give it to Uncle Brian. Brian looked at Violet and asked, “Well, who is this from?” Without missing a beat, Violet replied, “I don’t know, read the square.” Duh, Uncle Brian.

Violet’s birthday falls between Christmas and New Year’s, and I had been hyping her birthday party for weeks. The morning of the all-exciting event, I entered Violet’s bedroom as soon as she woke up. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart!” I exclaimed. Violet got up, wiped her tousled hair out of her eyes, and asked, “Is there a cake?”

My sister Heather came over one night and was sitting at the kitchen table with Violet. Heather cracked open a fortune cookie for Violet, and then proceeded to read the fortune: "You should treat yourself to something of quality, you deserve it." Violet then took the paper from Heather, looked at it, and proclaimed, “It says, ‘You need to watch WALL-E.’”

I will end with a conversation that took place the day the Christmas lights went up. My Mom placed a lighted polar bear, angel, and reindeer in the front yard. Violet and I were looking out of the window at the decorations.

“What’s that?” Violet inquired, pointing at the deer.

“That’s a reindeer,” I replied

“That’s a reindeer. He’s wet.” She deduced.

“What?” I asked.

“The rain. The rain deer is wet.”

Makes sense to me…