In case you all didn't know already, I've got a thing for Motown, soul and crooning. I've got the blues these days and I'm just going to drown my sorrows in some good old fashioned ballads.
Thank you to all you sweeties and your birthday wishes.
It's odd, this turning 46. I mean, it's a pretty much "nothing" kind of birthday because yes, I'm middle aged and yes, I have no real problem with it but it's not a Big Birthday. You know? I mean, would I rather that it be my 36th birthday? Duh. But on the other hand it's not a super special one like I imagine my 50th will be.
50. I hope I'm somewhere marvelous for my 50th. That and that I'll be financially able to get that cosmetic surgery done.
Anyway, thank you again Jill for pointing out that I'm still OLDER THAN ALL OF YOU.
My house now smells of poo, pretty much all the time. Yay. How ironic, that my biggest bugaboo is now a constant presence in my life.
We had friends (thankfully, really good ones) over for dinner this past weekend and we noted that being in the room with Stenchy McFarty is almost as bad as being stuck on a transpacific flight with a bunch of Japanese tourists. Good lord, those folks can stench up an enclosed area to the point of gagging. When we used to do a fair amount of business travel the worst scenario would getting on a JAL flight with a bunch of Japanese guys who would then proceed to smoke incessantly and fart (silently, because to make audible flatus is the height of rudeness, according to them) for the entire 14 hours. The women were less offensive only in that they didn't smoke but just chatter and giggle, loudly, non-stop for the entire time.
So, I was opining on how it was surprising that the Japanese didn't have special underwear for this particular pastime of theirs and behold, an American has filled that particular niche. I thought it was a joke site at first, but no. It's real. They even make them for those of us who wear thongs. Oh. My.
We've had an entire five hours without rain. There's some blue sky and bright light and not a moment too soon or I would be sleeping. I watched a fair amount of my topsoil wash away this week and was thankful that it was only that. The river is rising still, to the point that it's just about touching the underside of the bridges and I know that there's been some serious damage in the county. Rain. We need it, we've been short of it the last couple of years, but it's unfair that we get three year's worth in less than a week.
At least it forces me to stop it with the chronic weeding and planting. I can't stop myself, it's a tic or something. I went out to Oley (the real middle of nowhere) with Bill this weekend to "browse" around a nursery. Right. We ended up with enough plants to fill the entire back of the wagon, seats folded down, and justified it by telling each other "what a bargain! forty dollars for all of that!" Then, as we were loading up the haul we looked across the road to the daylily farm. Yes, we did. We spent the next two hours there deciding just which ones we needed. The names of them ranged from the prosaic "Hazel", the practical "Repeating Gold" all the way to the almost-poetry of "Awakening Dreams" and the romance novel titles like "Scintillation in Pink". It was actually a wonderful afternoon spent in the misty drizzle.
Mister Charlie met his first cows and had one that was stalking him down the fence line, much to his terror. He warned and warned and warned Miss Bossy to "Stay! Away! From me!!" but she was just too enamoured of his cuteness to pay heed. He ended up hiding behind my legs every time we were near her and the rest of the time he was trying to convince the farm cat that she would love his licking her all over her entire body, really. Kind of like certain types of men who hang out at bars, as I recall. The cat, not convinced in the least, and it's a good thing that she kept her distance or I would have had clawed puppy to tend to.
I spent several hours afterwards in the rain getting everything into the ground. I know, crazy lady gardening in all weather, that's me. It's just that there's something so incredibly soothing about digging and planting and weeding and seeding. I could spend my entire life outdoors with a trowel, a spade, some dirt and the deciding on just where to place just one more plant ....
Waking up to a house full of children (we had mass sleepover last night) with the giggles and then breakfast of bacon, eggs and yet more giggles.
Jake and his friend were cracking up about Jake's snap! at the teenaged jerk at baseball clinic. The big kid was trying to tell a joke to the 7 year olds in his clinic, "Do you know how a gay guy walks?" and Jake overheard and said "Yeah. Just like YOU." whereupon all the boys lost it. They were further thrilled by the fact that the big jerk obviously wanted to punch Jake but had to behave and my son's justification was "he has no business teaching the little kids to be hateful to gays."
I love the fact that I've managed to brainwash my kid in a lot of the right ways.
It's summertime but we're evidently not due for our laziness yet. Today is for taking John to Philly and leaving him there for the week. That's right, when I tire of a man I don't just break up with him. I take him to another city and leave him there. (I actually did something very like that but nevermind) In fact, he's got a week of courses that he has to take in order to get his commercial license. Blah blah, business, boring, not rich yet, blah blah. The thing is, the thought of driving in and out of that city twice daily explains a lot about why the citizens of Philly are so ... not full of brotherly love. So, we're taking a day trip and then leaving him there for the week.
It's Sunday so there's nothing really open by way of tourist-y sights so we're just gonna hang out and swim in the hotel pool and wander around while trying to avoid the rank odour that seems to permeate most of the city. You know, they really should hose down the sidewalks and the metro so that the urine and vomit doesn't just sit and fester. (I love Philly, can you tell?)
Let's see, I'm rambling because of the heat and the having to be busy on a Sunday. Jake made the Little League All Star team this year so that means lots and lots of practise this week before the Big Game. We went and spent a few hours at the batting cages and the driving range yesterday in an attempt to boost his skills. We got sidetracked by the go karts and the mini golf. Oh well. He's also honing his foot speed by spending a couple hours a day on Dance Dance Revolution. God, I love the cheesiness of that thing. "You are not an ordinary fellow!" it yells at him while he's stomping on it.
I'm signing Sophia up for some private art instruction this week and a new piano teacher. Various dinner parties are planned. Three sleepovers this week. Hannah is coming for a couple weeks in July. Um, windows installed in July? and fence installed in August, hopefully.
I want summer to be at least one month longer so that we can get some lazy time.
Just discovered that I've managed to put my pants on. Backwards. Been wearing them like that for a few hours so not really any point in switching them right way around.
I love that song, especially the Sam Cooke version. It's one of those that my father used to listen to and it's all wrapped up in my best memories of childhood and my daddy. I haven't heard it in years but it plays in my head whenever it's like this outside. Sunny days, cool nights, lazy afternoons.
I hope your daddy is rich and your momma's good lookin'.
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