Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Mt Airy Forest and Arboretum
It was absolutely stunningly beautiful today and Sloan was off (!) so we went to Mt. Airy forest, a Cincy park right by our house that's almost 1500 acres of paved, unpaved, mountain bike and brindle trails, with an arboretum and several playgrounds and lodges. It's amazing how this huge preserve is just smack in the middle of Cincinnati. We took lots of pictures:
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Things I like less than I did when I was younger:
1. A lot of music, but especially Sublime, pop-punk bands, and 311
2. Chuck Palahniuk
3. Having lots of clothes, shoes, and general stuff (this loses its luster when you have to move it all multiple times)
4. Drinking (on a very real note, it's just recently that I can see some acquaintances slipping into alcoholism)
5. Cats
6. Working out
Things I like just as much, which is surprising:
1. Billy Joel, Steely Dan and Gordon Lightfoot
2. Tattooes
3. Hair metal and grunge rock
4. Cleaning
5. Tiedyed everything
6. Knick knacks and religious iconography
7. Rock collections
Things I like as an adult which I did not in my teens/early 20s:
1. Wearing dresses
2. Slips! Perhaps due to #1, but man, slips are awesome.
3. Dogs
4. wearing glasses instead of contacts
5. IKEA
In short, I'm old and lame now. :D
1. A lot of music, but especially Sublime, pop-punk bands, and 311
2. Chuck Palahniuk
3. Having lots of clothes, shoes, and general stuff (this loses its luster when you have to move it all multiple times)
4. Drinking (on a very real note, it's just recently that I can see some acquaintances slipping into alcoholism)
5. Cats
6. Working out
Things I like just as much, which is surprising:
1. Billy Joel, Steely Dan and Gordon Lightfoot
2. Tattooes
3. Hair metal and grunge rock
4. Cleaning
5. Tiedyed everything
6. Knick knacks and religious iconography
7. Rock collections
Things I like as an adult which I did not in my teens/early 20s:
1. Wearing dresses
2. Slips! Perhaps due to #1, but man, slips are awesome.
3. Dogs
4. wearing glasses instead of contacts
5. IKEA
In short, I'm old and lame now. :D
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
on "helping"
Who are all these people who claim to be baking or cooking with their children? They typically gush about how their toddler, usually wearing a matching mini-apron, stands on a chair and helps mix dough while perhaps spilling an adorably small amount of flour on the floor--then help to clean up. The children help use cookie cutters to make impossibly perfect sugar cookies shaped like stars or hearts, which they then frost using a paintbrush. How wonderful! You know what happened today when MY children "helped" me bake gingerbread?
1.Mollie sat in a pile of cookie cutters and tried to pull the dog's tail, who in her desperate bid to escape shed all over the floor and necessitated a vacuum before even beginning;
2. Iggy dumped out the container of baking soda and preceded to eat it;
3. I allowed Iggy to help stir the dough and he managed to fling the entire dough lump onto the floor (good thing I just vacuumed!);
4. When "helping" cut out the cookies, Igs would press, smear, scrape, and then wad up the dough, resulting in giant lumpy cookies of indeterminate shape;
5. Tears, so many tears, caused by both kids fighting over plastic cookie cutters.
But you know what? The cookies were awesome. I didn't even attempt to frost them, screw it. That's enough for one day.
Last night, I framed and hung a picture of an elephant's butt.
It was an attempt to salvage some of the pictures from the Curious George book that Iggy had ripped every single page out of while throwing a tantrum a few weeks ago (all 300+ pages! It took dedication.) I tried to make lemonade and bought some cheapo dollar tree frames and did this:
I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
1.Mollie sat in a pile of cookie cutters and tried to pull the dog's tail, who in her desperate bid to escape shed all over the floor and necessitated a vacuum before even beginning;
2. Iggy dumped out the container of baking soda and preceded to eat it;
3. I allowed Iggy to help stir the dough and he managed to fling the entire dough lump onto the floor (good thing I just vacuumed!);
4. When "helping" cut out the cookies, Igs would press, smear, scrape, and then wad up the dough, resulting in giant lumpy cookies of indeterminate shape;
5. Tears, so many tears, caused by both kids fighting over plastic cookie cutters.
But you know what? The cookies were awesome. I didn't even attempt to frost them, screw it. That's enough for one day.
Last night, I framed and hung a picture of an elephant's butt.
I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Books!
I'm fully engrossed in a wonderful book at the moment, one which spent a lot of time on the NYT best seller's list and which I am woefully behind on reading: The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. I've wanted to read it for ages, but it always seemed to be checked out at the library, so when the Friends of the Library table at West Fest had a copy for sale for a buck, I snapped it up. And wow, I'm so glad I did.
It seems like some of the most beautiful prose I've read has been from Spanish and Portuguese authors, whose lyricism stands up even through translation. I love Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jorge Luis Borges, and Jose Saramago, and TSotW is similar in its gorgeous descriptive language. It got me thinking about some of my other favorite literature and I put together a little list:
1. Franny and Zooey. My favorite book, one which I recommend to everyone, and which was instrumental in my development into who I am today. It was my introduction to non-Catcher in the Rye Salinger, and I've since read every published short story, novel, and biography concerning Salinger there is. Franny's disillusionment with her peers and their priorities echoed my own, although I never experienced the breakdown she suffers (thank God). In fact, this is where I learned of one of my other favorites,The Way of a Pilgrim.
2.The Book of Lost Things, by John Connolly: Another beautiful magical realism masterpiece. It's pretty dark, dealing with death and loss, the disappointment of love and aging, and the horror of war, but its story is hauntingly gorgeous.
3.The Way of a Pilgrim, Anonymous: A cornerstone of Orthodox religion, its the story of an unnamed pilgrim who learns the Jesus Prayer, a method of praying without ceasing.
4. Rumi: a Sufi poet, who wrote absolutely beautiful things about love, God, and living well. I like Coleman Barks' translation best.
5. The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran: I love this so much that Sloan and I had a part of one of his essays on love inscribed inside our wedding rings ("love is sufficient unto love").
6.The Phantom Tollbooth (which I recently successfully convinced Sloan to read): my introduction as a child into mathematical logic, grammar, and paradoxical ideas. Plus really funny puns that hold up as an adult!
7.The Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander: My sister and I devoured these when we were younger. The most well known is The Black Cauldron, because Disney, but there are several other books in this series, and to be honest, the lesser known volumes are stronger. These are heavily influenced by Welsh mythology, and featured a strong female character named Eilonwy who was always smarter, more resourceful, and funnier than the male protagonist, Taran.
8. The Dark is Rising series, by Susan Cooper: Arguably the inspiration for Harry Potter (I'm being charitable; there was a lawsuit brought because JK Rowlings' series seems to be heavily, um, influenced by this series. It was settled out of court IIRC, but you can draw your own conclusions...) another series heavily steeped in British mythology and concerns a young boy finding out he is an ages-old wizard with the task of saving the world from the forces of the Dark.
9. His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman: Ugh, the movie didn't do the first novel justice. They're wonderfully written, imaginative books with another strong female protagonist and--warrior bears!--great supporting characters as well.
10. A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson: I mean, it's in the title. His writing style is so engaging that I read the whole thing on the plane to Alaska and then was bored the whole time waiting around the airport without anything to read.
11. Eugene Onegin, by Alexander Pushkin: Most definitely the Nabokov translation is my favorite, as it preserves the style and meaning of the verse without slavishly maintaining the rhyme. Onegin is brooding, disillusioned, and bored, and destroys several lives (including his own) by succumbing to an ill-advised obsession with Tatyiana after blowing her off years earlier. Incredibly Russian and incredibly sad, but so beautiful.
12. Fargo Rock City, by Chuck Klosterman: I also love hair bands and metal, so CK's autobiographical story of his favorite bands, which includes extensive histories of the bands and their escapades, was informative and awesome, all at once. He's totally a hipster, but at least he's got good taste.
I apologize if you've read all of these and the list didn't bring anything new to the table, and I am always open to suggestions for new things to read. Anyone have any?
It seems like some of the most beautiful prose I've read has been from Spanish and Portuguese authors, whose lyricism stands up even through translation. I love Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jorge Luis Borges, and Jose Saramago, and TSotW is similar in its gorgeous descriptive language. It got me thinking about some of my other favorite literature and I put together a little list:
1. Franny and Zooey. My favorite book, one which I recommend to everyone, and which was instrumental in my development into who I am today. It was my introduction to non-Catcher in the Rye Salinger, and I've since read every published short story, novel, and biography concerning Salinger there is. Franny's disillusionment with her peers and their priorities echoed my own, although I never experienced the breakdown she suffers (thank God). In fact, this is where I learned of one of my other favorites,The Way of a Pilgrim.
2.The Book of Lost Things, by John Connolly: Another beautiful magical realism masterpiece. It's pretty dark, dealing with death and loss, the disappointment of love and aging, and the horror of war, but its story is hauntingly gorgeous.
3.The Way of a Pilgrim, Anonymous: A cornerstone of Orthodox religion, its the story of an unnamed pilgrim who learns the Jesus Prayer, a method of praying without ceasing.
4. Rumi: a Sufi poet, who wrote absolutely beautiful things about love, God, and living well. I like Coleman Barks' translation best.
5. The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran: I love this so much that Sloan and I had a part of one of his essays on love inscribed inside our wedding rings ("love is sufficient unto love").
6.The Phantom Tollbooth (which I recently successfully convinced Sloan to read): my introduction as a child into mathematical logic, grammar, and paradoxical ideas. Plus really funny puns that hold up as an adult!
7.The Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander: My sister and I devoured these when we were younger. The most well known is The Black Cauldron, because Disney, but there are several other books in this series, and to be honest, the lesser known volumes are stronger. These are heavily influenced by Welsh mythology, and featured a strong female character named Eilonwy who was always smarter, more resourceful, and funnier than the male protagonist, Taran.
8. The Dark is Rising series, by Susan Cooper: Arguably the inspiration for Harry Potter (I'm being charitable; there was a lawsuit brought because JK Rowlings' series seems to be heavily, um, influenced by this series. It was settled out of court IIRC, but you can draw your own conclusions...) another series heavily steeped in British mythology and concerns a young boy finding out he is an ages-old wizard with the task of saving the world from the forces of the Dark.
9. His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman: Ugh, the movie didn't do the first novel justice. They're wonderfully written, imaginative books with another strong female protagonist and--warrior bears!--great supporting characters as well.
10. A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson: I mean, it's in the title. His writing style is so engaging that I read the whole thing on the plane to Alaska and then was bored the whole time waiting around the airport without anything to read.
11. Eugene Onegin, by Alexander Pushkin: Most definitely the Nabokov translation is my favorite, as it preserves the style and meaning of the verse without slavishly maintaining the rhyme. Onegin is brooding, disillusioned, and bored, and destroys several lives (including his own) by succumbing to an ill-advised obsession with Tatyiana after blowing her off years earlier. Incredibly Russian and incredibly sad, but so beautiful.
12. Fargo Rock City, by Chuck Klosterman: I also love hair bands and metal, so CK's autobiographical story of his favorite bands, which includes extensive histories of the bands and their escapades, was informative and awesome, all at once. He's totally a hipster, but at least he's got good taste.
I apologize if you've read all of these and the list didn't bring anything new to the table, and I am always open to suggestions for new things to read. Anyone have any?
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Act I: Introduction.
So, I'm writing this while I take a break from soaking and scrubbing my drip brew coffee maker (honestly, there has to be a better and easier way to clean this stupid thing. Yet another reason we've switched to french press; about a thousand times easier to clean!). I decided it's better to keep anyone interested apprised of our doings via blog. It's mostly my rambling thoughts, some pictures, and about 88% kid related stuff, because, you know, I stay at home with the kids all day. Here are some pertinent points and promises:
1. I promise not to discuss my thus far mostly unsuccessful attempts at potty training, because even though everybody poops, most do not like to talk about it (except for me to tell you this one story: Igs finally "went" in his potty, and the dog ate it. I am still trying to find the humor in this, while also attempting to wash the dog's mouth out with anything possible because she is a licker, and I think I might actually die if I think about this much longer. *deep dramatic sigh*)
2. I am a recovering neat freak. It was simple when I lived alone; I could vacuum the floor into perfect patterns every single night and come home from work the next day and it would remain, in perfect symmetrical stripes! But now, as a stay at home mom with two dirtball kids and a huge hairy beast of a dog (and a husband who really tries, but is still a man after all), I have realized I may need to reconcile a bit on the obsessive cleaning. I still mop and vacuum daily, but there are sticky little fingerprints in places I can't begin to fathom how they were acquired, I'm routinely horrified at the amount of fur one dog can produce and what it does to the vacuum, and any vacuumed stripes don't even make it until the cord is neatly and counterclockwise wound up on the back of the vacuum and then stowed away (recovering, I said, not cured.)
3. I like making things and baking, and much of what I do when both kids miraculously nap in tandem is (after cleaning, of course), some type of craft or art project, usually resulting in more tacky stuff that adorns our house and necessitates extra cleaning. Sloan likes pigs, especially butcher's diagrams, so we have lots of those. I usually have some sort of half baked craft idea for the kids and I to do which then inevitably results in Mollie eating part of it, Iggy breaking something, and the dog ending up with something sticky all over her that she scrapes off all over the house.
4. Sloan is a chef, so I don't cook as much as I should. I really need to start more, because left to my own devices I'll make something decent for the kids to eat and then I end up eating half a Costco-sized bag of goldfish for dinner after they go to bed.
5. I really, really like watching Jeopardy. Someday I may make it on the show, at which time you all can laugh at my nervous tics and stage fright and marvel at the made up stories I'll tell Alex (because no one cares about who I once met in the elevator or how Sloan and I got engaged). Until then, I'm unavailable every weeknight from 7:30-8.
6. I once collected nail polish and have, at a modest estimate, over 1,000 unique bottles. I haven't bought in any real capacity for a couple of years (funny how having kids makes even the most innocuous hobby seem extravagant), but my hoard rests in the basement, ready to someday make its resurgence.
That's it for now. I hear a kid calling and, like John Muir, I must go. Please, please feel free to comment and share stories or ideas or speculate on my Jeopardy chances.
1. I promise not to discuss my thus far mostly unsuccessful attempts at potty training, because even though everybody poops, most do not like to talk about it (except for me to tell you this one story: Igs finally "went" in his potty, and the dog ate it. I am still trying to find the humor in this, while also attempting to wash the dog's mouth out with anything possible because she is a licker, and I think I might actually die if I think about this much longer. *deep dramatic sigh*)
2. I am a recovering neat freak. It was simple when I lived alone; I could vacuum the floor into perfect patterns every single night and come home from work the next day and it would remain, in perfect symmetrical stripes! But now, as a stay at home mom with two dirtball kids and a huge hairy beast of a dog (and a husband who really tries, but is still a man after all), I have realized I may need to reconcile a bit on the obsessive cleaning. I still mop and vacuum daily, but there are sticky little fingerprints in places I can't begin to fathom how they were acquired, I'm routinely horrified at the amount of fur one dog can produce and what it does to the vacuum, and any vacuumed stripes don't even make it until the cord is neatly and counterclockwise wound up on the back of the vacuum and then stowed away (recovering, I said, not cured.)
3. I like making things and baking, and much of what I do when both kids miraculously nap in tandem is (after cleaning, of course), some type of craft or art project, usually resulting in more tacky stuff that adorns our house and necessitates extra cleaning. Sloan likes pigs, especially butcher's diagrams, so we have lots of those. I usually have some sort of half baked craft idea for the kids and I to do which then inevitably results in Mollie eating part of it, Iggy breaking something, and the dog ending up with something sticky all over her that she scrapes off all over the house.
4. Sloan is a chef, so I don't cook as much as I should. I really need to start more, because left to my own devices I'll make something decent for the kids to eat and then I end up eating half a Costco-sized bag of goldfish for dinner after they go to bed.
5. I really, really like watching Jeopardy. Someday I may make it on the show, at which time you all can laugh at my nervous tics and stage fright and marvel at the made up stories I'll tell Alex (because no one cares about who I once met in the elevator or how Sloan and I got engaged). Until then, I'm unavailable every weeknight from 7:30-8.
6. I once collected nail polish and have, at a modest estimate, over 1,000 unique bottles. I haven't bought in any real capacity for a couple of years (funny how having kids makes even the most innocuous hobby seem extravagant), but my hoard rests in the basement, ready to someday make its resurgence.
That's it for now. I hear a kid calling and, like John Muir, I must go. Please, please feel free to comment and share stories or ideas or speculate on my Jeopardy chances.
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