We ate blueberry and raspberry muffins for dinner (that's all we ate for dinner so far). Martin and I ate three a piece. As a family we demolished almost one dozen. Beatrix blew into her chocolate milk until it was nothing but brown bubbles. She accomplished this by concentrating hard and humming as she blew.
Promises of rain for days now. No rain and the garden is out of control. Mint and thyme and oregano and lettuces are bolting for the door. Weeds run rampant, or frolic cheerfully, depending on whether your glass is half-empty or half-full.
I suddenly remembered our kitchen counters are maroon. I'd forgotten. It was bliss to forget.
Today I could not tell someone less than a mile away how to get to my house. I could also not remember my telephone number. My friend asked me if I were pregnant. OOOOO, no. Just a fuzzy brain. Or an echoing brain. Or a jiggy brain. There's so much grooving between my lobes there's no room for mundane details. . .like my phone number or the kids' date of birth. I actually have to take their birth certificates out of the lock-box when I fill out forms. I am not joking.
Today I told the kids if they didn't stop arguing with each other, I'd cut off their heads. I said this with a big smile on my face. (Too many pirate movies). A bit later, Elspeth grinned and said, "Mommy, I don't like it when you're silly."
Louisville Review has accepted one of my poems. Happy me.
Martin has been playing "Fox in the Snow" by Belle and Sebastian on the piano for three or four weeks now. I like this song but the repetition may just get me in the end. Of course, I always sing it with a lisp because that's what the singer does on the CD. He is British and lispy and I think he's grand.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
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