by mayberry on March 14, 2008
The vectors of germ
and I are hitting the skies
tomorrow — look out
Yes, it was daunting yesterday when 50% of the household was puking, the dog had a seizure, and I started feeling that telltale dry throat that always portends a vicious cold.
But the tickets are purchased, the hotel is booked, the aunts and uncles and friends (even an ex-boyfriend!) are waiting, so we are off tomorrow.
I’ll be gone until next week but I am leaving you with three movies still to be identified (now with hints–get on that!). And over at the Full Mommy, you can read another travel story: My review of a brand-new water resort.
And please I beg you
Don’t post too much while I’m gone
Spring break for us all!
by mayberry on February 24, 2008
Four nights away from
home, husband, kids. Each day seems
longer than the last
In the airport on the way home I walked into the ladies’ room behind a little girl and her mom singing the Hannah Montana theme song. Then the girl asked her mom to come in the stall and help her wipe.
Ah yes. I’m almost home.
(Composed on Friday for Haiku Friday but didn’t make it to the big screen until today.)
by mayberry on February 1, 2008
You needed a bed
No one told me that it would
dwarf you like an oak
Seriously, this thing is huge. But the small boy loves it. He helped build it …
and then dismantle the crib without a second look (saying goodbye to the nuks? not so much).
Big sister is also a big fan. She’s been sleeping in that trundle every single night.
Now, for a nice book …
And then snuggle under the quilt. My mother-in-law had these in her attic for the past 30 years–can you believe it? One of Jeff’s aunts made them for him and his brother, but they were rarely used. Having a packrat in the family = priceless!
Yes, we are going to repaint, by the way. I’m thinking a warmish khaki but that was before I got the quilts. Suggestions welcome (I’d also love to do something fun with that dormer/slope thingie–what’s that called? There’s one on the opposite side of the room too).
by mayberry on January 18, 2008
Just thought you should know
I know something you think I
don’t. Kids have big mouths
*
Twice in the past few days, while I haunted the coatroom, kindergartners have blurted out info that I’m guessing their parents would rather not have bruited about. One was a child who said that her mom might be sending her to parochial school soon. The other was a boy who told me that his parents were considering a move … not such a big deal except that his mother is a teacher at the school, possibly even Jo’s teacher next year. (Him: “They’re thinking of moving to the place with the first Montessori school.” Me: ” … Italy?” Him: [vzzzzhhh sound of words flying over his head].)
Word to the wise: Don’t say anything about anything in front of your kid.
*
All from yesterday:
Opie, to day care director: I’m going to see Dr. B___. He takes care of my whole body!
Opie, to doctor: I am getting a big boy bed. I am not going to get out!
Opie, to neighbor: My big boy bed is upstairs. It is a tiger cage!
Opie, to teacher: When you come to my house to a football game party you will need a ticket. [Note: There is no such party]
by mayberry on January 4, 2008
tiny angry zit
embedded in an eyebrow
how can I zap you?
crib escape artist
why do you choose the highest
end to crawl over?
daughter has cough drops
in pocket? fill out this form
in quadruplicate
feeds kids organic
diet, but leaves vacant car
running for an hour
need server for work
first email says it’s down, next
one says it’s stolen
by mayberry on December 7, 2007
Surely there must be
Someone on my gift list for
Whom I can buy this?
*
Local newspaper
Champion of the townsfolk
Exposes “deadbeat”
–Inspired by this item in our paper’s “From the archives” column:
1882: A man was in [Mayberry] to solicit advertisements for a card he said would
be displayed in all the railroad depots in the state. Inasmuch as he tried to
bargain at the newspaper office for only 150 of the cards, we are led in the
interests of honesty to declare him a deadbeat.
by mayberry on November 16, 2007
Roger: strange old coot
Jowls, limp, cranky attitude
Eyes crossed, heart mighty
When we lived in the city, like real city people we had a dogwalker. He came once a day to dispense biscuits and walkies to the dog and lots of opinions to the humans. That’s if we happened to cross paths, which we’d do our best to avoid. Roger was one of those people who’d just plunk down on a kitchen chair and rattle on about who knows what, oblivious to any signs that we were ready for him to move along. It was only the other “animal children” on his route that kept him from staying parked for hours. Once I came home from work early to take something to the post office and discovered he hadn’t yet arrived. As I gathered my things I heard him huffing up the front stairs of our building. Like a total coward I actually sneaked out the back door just to avoid being waylaid.
Still, he found other ways to dispense his wisdom. Three-minute long voicemail messages, say; or his daily notes reporting exactly what happened during the walk. Not just what the dog produced, but anything they saw or people they met. Once there was a page-long tale of a “Young Girl” who accused Roger of not picking up after our dog. He defended himself by pointing out that the “feces” she had indicated were not fresh, since they were no longer warm. To prove this, he wrote, he made her touch them (“I provided tissues,” he noted). I’m sure the Young Girl was sorry she ever tangled with Rog.
If only I’d saved more of those notes (or had a blog back then). We did preserve the final missive. Here it is, with only a few identifying details changed.
Well here we are! Down to the final walk. These past four (almost) walking F. have been good. She will be missed. The years go by as quickly as a wink. It was good to work with you & I tried my best.
Of course I knew Jeff from the times at [his former address] when he would take care of [a friend's dog/fellow Roger client] & I would travel down to walk the canine
Please enjoy the new page of your collective lives in [Mayberry]. I am very happy for you also especially Jo who will have a chance to attend good Public schools when she is ready.
Until we meet again
Roger
I do wonder about him still. If he’s still shuttling up and down the Boulevard with his animal children, living with his cats, complaining about his landlord, his neighbors, and most of humankind. I hope so.
by mayberry on October 26, 2007
Small boy up at dawn
Declares “Mommy, it’s oh-clock!”
Abandon all hope
by mayberry on September 21, 2007
Indian summer
Pool closed, sprinklers put away
Just soak up the warmth
Tell me dear husband
Why it’s so hard to grasp
what’s recyclable?
My scalp is itchy
Please don’t tell me it’s that–No,
It’s all in my head
by mayberry on September 14, 2007
Three free hours today
To-do list goes on for miles
Maybe I’ll just blog
It’s Haiku Friday again!
Now that school has started, my schedule has changed and I am giving myself Friday afternoons off from both work and kid care. That means they are on for freelance jobs, household stuff, and maybe once in a while even something fun. My plan for the next several weeks is to slowly, surely purge this house of about a metric ton of accumulated crap. I will pick one closet/storage area/black hole per Friday and devote an hour to clearing it out. Realizing I still had a 15-year-old dress in my closet was definitely a kick in the ass, as was the change in weather that arrived this week. This happens every time the seasons change: I feel like I have no idea how to dress. I need to reset my brain from “capris” to “jeans” and back again, to find the long-sleeved shirts that have been buried under the short-sleeved ones for four months. But since very few of my clothes would really pass the Clinton/Stacy/Tim Gunn test, I feel the need to start fresh.
Wish me luck — and I am counting on you to hold me accountable to my goal. Stay tuned for photographic evidence!
