An Ode to Scott, My Little Old Man

Is there anything in this world so sweet
As fat, squishy baby feet?

Little, pink, chubby, round
To match his little newborn sound.

Amazing as it seems to me,
Growing they seem to be!

Yet these sweet feet I love so well,
Will very soon start to smell.

Oh, small boy feet, I love your toes
As long as I can hold my nose.

Young man feet I'll be happy to see
Located across the room from me.

College man feet I'll never scoff,
If ne'er you take your big shoes off.

But I'll never love your feet so much
As the small feet now that I touch.

A Report on Blueberries for Sal

I, the editor of this magazine, have just finished reading the timeless epic Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey.  This book is the chronicle of a low-income family foraging for fruits.  Sal and her mother meander to Blueberry Hill (without the aid of a Garmin), buckets in hand, to collect enough blueberries for preserving.  While picking, Sal repeatedly eats the fruit, upping her caloric intake considerably.  To add to this wanton display of bad parenting, Sal's mother doesn't even notice the entrance of a bear and her cub!  The editor is shocked that the mother doesn't take action to protect her child from the sun (there is no mention of the application of sunscreen), let alone the bear.  The editor also notes that the mother could have applied for the government program WIC, which certainly would have provided the essentials needed to feed Sal, thereby eliminating the dangerous trek out into nature.  This blatant omission leads me to conclude that she is probably a fanatic, conservative church-goer.  The editor would also have appreciated a nod to the Endangered Species list, of which the black bear is now a member.  Many black bears live on nature preserves in the Northern part of our country, leading the editor to the unhappy conclusion that Sal and her mother were engaged in the misdemeanor offence of illegal plant life poaching on government property.

It is because of these facts that the editor unfortunately cannot seriously recommend this as appropriate reading for children.  With some editing of the plot, characters, content, and ideology, this book may be freed from conservative indoctrination elements, and thus be made safe for children to read with adult supervision.

Happy Spring

The sun is shining.  I got to hang out my laundry this morning, feeling the squish-squish suction of my sinky shoes.  My black pants are sprayed with muddy brown at the bottom.  I match the two muddy little men, happily sloshing at their play.  It's April, it's spring, and it's muddy-lovely.

Treacherous Waters, Part 2

The walk to work was a brief one.  A loft apartment for sale above the job he was offered was a selling point for him.  When he accepted the position, it was with the many minutes he would save commuting in mind.  Just think how many subpoints he could accomplish in the quiet of his own home, rather than in the noisy subway!  Another organizational triumph.

His desk was at the rear of the office, facing away from the windows, an angle he preferred.  The distraction of the pedestrian traffic would interfere with his performance at work.  Today, however, Heathcliff spun in his chair to observe the people outside.  He watched in silence, mentally adding notes to his "Qualifications of a Potential Mate" memorandum.  His statuesque concentration, however effective, was distracting to his coworkers.  Jeffrey Beale was an accountant at the next desk.  The sudden appearance of Heathcliff near his cubicle was unnerving.

"Heath, do you know how creepy you are right now?" he blurted.  "Can you impersonate a manequin at your own desk?".

Heathcliff snapped back into reality.  "Oh, yes, certainly," he stammered, unconscious of the embarrasment he should have felt. "I was just...".  He paused, glancing at Jeffrey.  "Never mind."

Jeffrey was generally not a man of sensitivity.  He spent the bulk of his post-work time watching sports, boxing, and consuming foods that would make Michelle Obama's heart break.  It was very odd to see Heathcliff pause mid task, though.  His curiosity was piqued.

"Heath, what is it?  I've never seen you so..."  What?  Quiet...no.  Unnerved...too calm. "So...distracted."

Heathcliff blushed.  To him lack of attention was a cardinal sin.  Focus was key to accomplishment.  "I'm sorry, Jeffrey, I was actually pondering something of great import to me."

Jeffrey leaned forward in his chair.  He wasn't sure what 'import' meant.

"You see," Heathcliff continued, "I'm trying to find myself a wife."

Jeffrey's mouth opened slightly, for it had never occured to him that a man like this had any romantic DNA in his body...an interesting assumption coming from Jeffrey.  Jeffrey rubbed the stubble on his chin.  "Well, uh, are you dating someone?"

A new thought.  "Why no, I've never been on a date before.  Could you help me?"

A bachelor himself, Jeffrey was a little intimidated at the prospect.  He soon realized that even his dim romantic sensibilities were more likely to charm a woman than Heathcliff's, so he agreed.

"How utterly fantastic, my good coworker!" Heathcliff exclaimed. "Do you by any chance have a list of appropriate females in the vicinity?".

Jeffrey sighed, he would definitely need some help.

And thus the obsession begins...

"Can you say Alcides Escobar?"
        ...Scott, 3 to Allison, 10 months

Poetry Corner, I

Here is the first of many heart-warming poems from that great poet Ogden Nash.


A Word to Husbands
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you're wrong, admit it;
Whenever you're right, shut up.

Word of the Week, April 26

Today is a great day to enrich our lives with a little learning.  Here is a vocabulary word for you to read, memorize, and use at least once every day this week.

vomitorium <vom-i-tawr-ee-uhm>: noun.  a passage through which crowds can exit at the end of  a performance.  plural vomitoria

Let's use it in a sentence, shall we?

After the service, it is Pastor's custom to greet parishioners in the vomitorium.

Here's one for the plural usage...

Of all the vomitoria Karen had walked through, this was by far the most strikingly beautiful.

Good luck this week!

Treacherous Waters, Part 1

Heathcliff Manning was a gentlemanly sort of character.  He filed his nails to perfection, held doors for women, and always meticulously ironed every article of his clothing.  He was neat and orderly in all his ways, storing his cherished label maker in the top side drawer of his desk.  Despite all of these obvious perfections, he had yet to woo and marry.

Heathcliff sat in his paisley arm chair stirring his morning cup of French Roast coffee.  He had exactly two minutes and forty-five seconds to stir before his beverage would reach his optimal drinking temperature...plenty of time to contemplate the life plan which lay before him.  He eyed the typewritten document with hazard, knowing the contents of what he would read even before he dared to glance at the pages.  He passed the two minute mark, and leaned over to grasp the file.  The title page was before him, written in bold ,"Plan of Action: The Premeditated Goal Timeline of Heathcliff Manning".  Planning had always brought him comfort.  He checked his watch with a smile...fifteen more seconds.   He flipped to page three in the timeline, feeling the gratification of accomplishment as he perused the bullet points.  Under "Section III: Early Adult Life" he had already fulfilled subpoints A-E completely on schedule.  Yet there it was, the ominous subpoint F.  It had been so simple to earn his degrees, gain employment, begin his investment portfolio, and learn to make homemade doughnuts, but this...where was he to start?

He read aloud once more,  "Subpoint F: Find a mate.  Accomplishment date: May 15, 2010."  Forty- three, Forty-four, Forty-five.  Ahh, it was time.  Heathcliff tenderly sipped his coffee, so as not to corrupt the tidiness of his freshly combed mustache.  "I can do it," he thought, "I must do it!  I must!...or I'll never finish Section III and progress to Section IV: The Middle Ages."  Determination fueled his spirit, for after all, Heathcliff was orderly in all he did.  Having a plan of action was at the very core of his being.

Another New Beginning

I'm feeling a need to harness my quirky, odd, and slightly corny humor.  Don't you ever feel the need to write something completely silly?  I have to confess, I do more often than I'd like to admit.  I've even ventured into the realm of relay short story writing with a certain blogger that shall remain nameless...for now...unless her husband doesn't want her name posted...or maybe a little disguised.  <<Focus, you're writing an intro!>>

I'd like this blog to be dedicated to all my weird stay-at-home mom friends who participated in the Hannistina venture, as well as anyone who has been troubled with reading my "articles" before.  Let's make a magazine, girls!  No pressure, but if the fancy strikes you to be a tad weirder than your serious and beautiful blog allows, come join me in whimsy world.  Let this be our bloggy "Far Side"...even if no one reads it but me...