When I take notes, I like to use a pencil.
A stubby pencil.
A sharpened, stubby pencil.
A sharpened, stubby pencil with a cap eraser.
~2~ Standing there like two stupids.
One evening during our recent stay at the Marriott Resort, we accompanied the boys to the Game Room. Whoa. Four flat screen televisions, four different gaming systems, swivel seats … our boys were in heaven.
My husband and me? Meh, not so much. But since we were there, and since one station was free, we decided to give it a try. Car racing. How hard could that be?
Well, thirty seconds later we had both crashed headlong into a wall.
Ten minutes later we were still crashed. In the same place. Our engines were revving, our wheels were turning, but we didn’t know how to a) back up and b) turn around. Ten minutes we just stood there, looking at our cars not going anywhere.
Finally, someone ran over, looked over our shoulder, and told us to push the triangle button.
The triangle button. Makes perfect sense.
~3~ Sometimes a good deed hurts.
So, one of my son’s classmates is a Cutco representative and, since he really, really needed to practice his sales pitch, I caved and let him practice on me.
Then I caved and bought one knife which, by the way, cost as much as one semester's tuition for college.
Yesterday I used that knife and just about cut off my finger.
~4~ Senior Portraits.
Yesterday I took Nicholas to have his senior portraits taken. They dressed him in a nice tuxedo, told a funny joke, and got him to smile so that his dimples showed.
All that soft lighting and flash photography made my eyes water.
At least, that’s what I told my son.
~5~ His name is Marve.
At the gym where I work out there is a gentleman named Marve.
Marve is over 80 and is completely bald. He comes dressed for a workout: sweatband, shorts, white undershirt, and athletic socks pulled up to his knees. A towel is looped around his neck.
Everyone likes Marve. He nods, waves, and says hello to everyone.
He makes me smile.
~6~ Speaking of bald.
Okay, if you’re tired about hearing me complain about my hair, just imagine being me.
I want to put myself in the hands of some talented and imaginative hairdresser who speaks with a French accent and who will study me and my hair and offer a miraculous solution.
~7~ B.K. (Before Kids)
Yesterday Joe and I were talking about the glorious year Joe participated in an engineer swap with the Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico.
Although Joe worked in Los Alamos, we lived in Santa Fe in a beautiful adobe home with turquoise window frames and doors, kiva fireplaces, and a small, brick courtyard.
We were within walking distance to the Plaza.I loved that house.
|Our old home in Santa Fe, NM|
|The dining room.|
The table used to be turquoise, but everything else is the same.
|The Living Room.|
There used to be Native American decor (blankets, rug, etc.), but the built-in couch,
the kiva fireplace, and the exposed beams are the same. On a side note, Joe used
to bump his head on that doorway all the time.
*Now, go visit Jen at Conversion Diary for some more Quick Takes!