found this description of a shoe in a catalog:


Pared to essentials, our sublimely spare sandal is handmade in suede
with a tan leather sole molded to hug your foot. Rubber pancake heel.

….I couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly hungry.

It’s an experience!

Especially if you go with me when I’m overtired.  I
should always watch movies in the theater when I’m overtired. 
Ha! 

Bill and I took each other out for early birthday presents to see Pirates 2,
and I can’t remember ever enjoying a show more.  I laughed SO
much.  And cringed and ewww-ed, and cowered in my seat, and
covered my ears, and pulled my feet up off the floor, and rolled my
eyes, and said “of course!” more than once, and laughed and laughed and
laughed.  It’s fun being in a somewhat responsive audience–at
least I’m not the only one reacting out loud.  Not that it would
have stopped me…    Anyway, I loved seeing it
with my cousin.  He told me when a jump-scene was coming, laughed
at my frustrations over the characters’ decisions, teased me later
about screaming over something small, and whispered comments back and
forth.  (Our cousins will be to-die-for husbands for some
lucky girls…I’m just glad I get ’em by default.)  It
was fun to go to a movie with a guy, too, for once.  And it
was fun to connect with him; see things at the same level.  We
talked about it all the way out and all the way home.  I felt like
a kid, gushing over a movie.  And I felt like an adult,
recognizing the moments for what they were.  Those
wouldn’t-trade-it-for-anything kinds of moments.

So, yes, the movie is excellent.  I’m impressed.  (More
importantly, Bill was impressed, which is hard to do.)  It has a
great new organ theme added for…oops, can’t tell!  And a
very, VERY well placed waltz.  Yes, a waltz.  In a
pirate movie.  And no, it’s not a wedding waltz.  And anyone
who can coordinate a three-way sword fight in a rolling mill wheel
deserves a medal.

Oh, and stay for the last scene…at the end of the credits.

Today we went to the beach in the pouring rain, when everyone else was
leaving, even the lifeguards.  It felt so crazy, and I could
hardly stop laughing.  Sophie and I played
“ship-wrecked.”  And the rain cleaned our faces and stung our
eyes.  And Sean tried to feed the seagulls a dead fish we found on
the jetty (with the barbeque tongs we found  next to it).  We
like having unusual adventures.

have ya’ll ever heard the last verse of our national anthem?  as best I can remember…

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and the war’s desolation!

Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto:  “In God is our trust.”

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

My sister just pointed out how interesting it is that rain comes down in drops.

Since mcforeign posted about our new carpet, I shall, too.



At least once a day, I think to myself

as I walk up the stairs,

This carpet is so wonderful

it almost solves all of my problems.
I can’t seem to keep a bad mood

on when I walk up the steps.
It makes our house actually look good,
feels heavenly,
makes everyone smile.
That’s what new carpet with

extra dense padding can do

on a stairway that kept the original

carpet–nearly 25 years old, until

two weeks ago when it became bare wood.

New carpet will make your life better.  (Home Depot should pay me to say that.)

Who knew.

I can’t stand to walk on it in shoes.

My life is barefoot…

Out of the whole world, we chose each other.  And the power of that choice, that promise, has kept us.  There is no question in either of our minds that we could find a “better mate.”  Does that surprise you?  It shouldn’t.  There is always someone out there better than you.  There will always be someone more beautiful, intelligent, wealthy, witty, competent, sensitive, or sensual.  But that’s a non-issue to [us].  The toxin of comparison has been utterly neutralized and washed away by the sacred anti-toxin of a promise.
~Stu Weber, Tender Warrior

That was a long post.  This one will be shorter….

umm….yeah.  much shorter.

addled, that’s what i am.
or at least that’s how i feel right now. 
no coherent thoughts,
i can barely spell.
not enough sleep, probably.
too much junk food, definitely.
i wonder if my clothes will still fit me when i get home.
i miss my munchkin.

but i wouldn’t trade this time for anything.

---

::edit::
10:00pm

observations from evenings at the park…

two different nights,

two very different fathers.

one who’s tone of voice never changes

from simple conversations with his children

to instructing a crying young son on getting his knee unstuck.

another who alternates between normal instructions as he

hits baseballs out for his boys to practice fielding,

and scoldings and criticisms for not throwing far enough

to get the balls back to him.

(“If you can’t throw past your noses…”)

some of it’s the example they had.

some of it’s personality.

a lot of it’s ego.

i’ve been noticing the issue of ego

everywhere lately.

the man i observed on my first night at the park

had very little ego involved in parenthood.

he ignored the fact that there were people around,

remembered how young his son was,

and never minded that his son might be making him look foolish.

it’s amazing how parents sometimes feel like their kids are

making them look bad, and they handle it poorly at great cost to their

child’s best interest.

this father enough humility, at least at the playground,

to speak gently but matter-of-factly to his unwise offspring.

(unwise because first, he got his knee stuck, and second, it took him too long to listen to

the one person around him with the information he needed to free himself.)

it was the best handling of a crying-in-public child i have ever seen.

the second father seemed nice enough with his boys.

they were obviously having fun with him.

but occasionally ego reared it’s ugly head.

when they didn’t perform up to par,

he used words that would tear them down rather than

accomplish what he wanted–which was for them to do better.

whether it was because they were making his performance at bat

look poor, or because they were embarrassments as his sons because

they couldn’t do better.

either way, i was ashamed for him.

i was suddenly grateful for my own daddy,

who never scolded when we were trying to learn something new.

i never noticed it then, but humility is like that.

to quote,

“Humility is like underwear–essential, but indecent if it shows.”

television example: David Palmer in the last episodes of 24, season four.

now there was a man who could put his country before himself,

the good of a nation before his ego.

he was willing to look like the fool–or at least not like “the man”–

so that people would follow the designated leader.

he did what had to be done, he allowed others to do it to him,

regardless of what people might think of him.

he is my latest hero.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

i sat on the swings at the playground of an elementary

school near my grandma’s

(i think my uncle went to that school)

and watched a full moon rise.

perfect, dry evening.

marvelous breeze–rare for this part of Austin in the evening,

sunset over my right shoulder,

moon shining on my face.

i could swing forever.

(if only it didn’t hurt my seat so much after an hour.)

there’s a small tree recently planted near the tall

swing-set at the far end of the playground.

only about five-and-a-half feet tall.

and about four inches below the branches

is one small branch, like a twig

that has exploded with leaves.

when the wind blows, all the other branches

wave about, like hands, but it’s so natural

you hardly notice.

but that one little bottom branch,

so alone,

bounces.

i swear there are fairies jumping up and down on it.

it won’t make my life easier
it won’t make me easier to live with
it won’t make me more cheerful
it won’t make me speak kindly

it won’t get me in shape

or make me thinner

it won’t make me prettier
or make me more talented

it won’t give me more time

or make me more organized

it won’t make me a better person

or give me better habits

it won’t make me happier
(by itself)