Friday, March 26, 2010

Other Worldly

My daughter's 10th birthday is rapidly approaching. Ten is quite a milestone. I keep thinking she should only be 7.

For one reason or another she hasn't had a birthday party with her friends since first grade, so when she asked to have a party this year, I agreed to make it happen.

We couldn't agree on what kind of party, though. She wanted to do something at home. My home is not really laid out well for entertaining, so I told her we'd have to keep it small and simple. Any suggestions I had (terrariums! fairy gardens!) were met with her "yuck face."

After she poo-poo'd all my ideas, we started brainstorming parties outside the home. Bowling? No. Paint-your-own ceramics? No. Art center? No.

What does this child want??

Finally I struck upon the idea of Laser Tag, and at long last, her face lit up. Bingo! She had never played laser tag, but she thought it sounded fun.

I confess, I never thought I'd have a party where I would encourage children to shoot at each other, and I sort of wondered if the other parents would object, but everyone was so excited!

We had so much fun!

Our group got two fifteen minute games. For the first game my husband and I were all mature, with a "nah, you kids go ahead." It was mighty cute, seeing all the girls clustered under the black lights to listen to instructions. When the ref asked who wanted to be on the birthday girl's team, every single hand shot into the air with screams of "me! me! me!"

We watched them all racing around, dodging, pointing, shooting, screaming, laughing. Hmmm. After a break for pizza and drinks, our group headed back in for the second game, and my husband and I suited up faster than the kids did! I seemed to make a nice big target for all those children to shoot at. Sneaky little devils.

Too bad it's so dang expensive, or we'd go back all the time!

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

St. Patrick's Day

No green beer here, nor corned beef, nor cabbage. Just a four leaf clover shirt, a rainbow fruit salad,

some Irish Soda Bread

potato stew (not pictured), and green crocs to give the day its due.

I supposedly have Irish heritage. My paternal grandfather's mother's maiden name was Calhoun, but I have no idea where she was born. I do have red hair, so I've always felt Irish. Isn't everyone Irish on St. Patrick's Day?
I don't own any green clothes. Every year on St. Patrick's Day I am so surprised I have nothing green to wear. It was very warm here today, so I peeked through my t-shirts (which are still put away in the "out of season" dresser) and pulled out one I thought could pass for green. My crazy-about-the-color-green daughter informed me very authoritatively "that's not green mom. It's Robin's Egg blue." Oh well, I tried.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Book Review: When Wanderer's Cease to Roam

I received this book for Christmas and read it a few weeks ago. What a lovely book! It is written and illustrated by Vivian Swift, who lived a nomadic life for 20 years, until one day she settled down in a town on Long Island Sound and stayed put for 10 years. This book chronicles her life in that sedentary 10 year period. Arranged month-by-month, she focuses on the minutiae of daily life in a small town, painting all the ways rain falls in April, or the many forms mud can take in March. She includes snippets from the local newspaper, which are touching and hilarious.
Along with the adventures of life at home, she includes reminisces of her time abroad. This book reads like some of the best homey blogs I enjoy, as it offers glimpses into the life of a person who finds beauty and inspiration in the details of her environment.

Friday, March 5, 2010

We've got pictures

I think I'm back in business! I have a backlog of photos to share, so we'll see how many I get through in the next few days.

I have been really pleased with my little corner of spring in my dining room. The above photo was taken after Valentine's Day, when the tulips were blooming, the bouquet was fresh, the wheat grass was thin, and the hyacinth was just a promise.
Now the tulips are gone, the wheat grass is lush, the hyacinth is inching past prime, and the bouquet needs to be tossed. I have put away the valentine's things and am thinking about getting out the Easter decorations, even though it feels too soon. This bunny was easily accessible, so I put him out already. I bought him in a boutique a couple years ago when I was learning to crochet. I thought that I could use him as a model to develop my own bunny amigurumi pattern, but as it turns out, I'm content just to look at him.
I thought the tulips looked cool as they opened wider and wider. The tulips in my yard never get to this point because the squirrels behead them pretty much the moment they pop up. This is me. I have had my hair trimmed since I took this photo, so I'm looking a little more kempt these days. I recently hung this mirror by my back door. It's nice to be able to do one last quick check before heading out the door.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Slowly getting there

My computer is back. Huzzah. Apparently it was the worst virus the medic has ever seen. That sounds par for the course around here. I needed a new hard drive, so my husband put in Windows 7, and now I don't know how to do anything on it. I need to learn how to get my photos off my camera. I hate having to learn something new when the previous way worked perfectly fine. Do I sound old yet?

So, no pictures. I hate blogging without pictures. To me, the pictures are half the fun, but I was getting anxious leaving this space dormant for so long.

March is here. Huzzah! Although, I actually don't like March all that much. It seems like the weather should be nicer because the days are longer and the sun is stronger, but it's not warm enough yet. No budding trees, no sprouting daffodils. We are in a holding pattern, waiting for spring to land. The sidewalks are so treacherous in the mornings this time of year. During the day, the snow starts to melt, but at night the temperature dips below freezing, so all the melted snow turns the sidewalks into an ice rink by morning. Walking my daughter to school is a tricky, tricky business.

Yesterday as I navigated the icy patches on my way home, cursing this month of March, I suddenly remembered an ice incident from my childhood. I can't remember how old I was, maybe 7 or 8. It was Easter morning, and I was all dressed up in pink cotton pants and a white blouse. I could see our newspaper down at the end of the driveway, and I wanted to read the comics, so I put on my hard-soled patent leather mary janes to complete my Easter ensemble and headed outside, paying no heed to the fact that the driveway was slick with ice. The minute my fancy shoes hit the driveway I slid all the way down to the street. I had no traction whatsoever. I picked up the newspaper and thought I'd outsmart the driveway by walking back to the house through the snow in the front yard, but the snow was just as ice-covered as the driveway, and I fell into a heap, still in the street. I made a few more attempts to walk to the house, but I only slipped and slid and fell. I realized I was in a predicament, and it terrified me. I screamed for help, but no one in the house heard me. I have overdramatic tendencies (ie: I'm not cool under pressure), and I think I may have become hysterical. I dropped to my hands and knees and tried to crawl up the lawn, but the knees of my pants and the skin on my palms shredded on the ice in the process. I thought I would die of exposure on the front lawn right then and there, but fortunately my dad noticed the spectacle on the lawn and came to my rescue. Once I was inside all safe and sound I was so sad about the demise of my pretty pink pants. I had to put on something else to wear for Easter. I don't remember what I changed into, but I do remember feeling that the substitute outfit was woefully inadequate.

That pretty much sums up March in these parts. You think it's going to be so great and pretty and warm and springy, and you leap out of the house all happy, but you end up on your butt in the ice.