Original Haiku on Picture I Didn't Take

I worked really hard on this.  I googled the image and everything.  It's a poor substitute for the yarn I planned to spin, but since my audience is limited to a grand total of two people, and you've both heard the story, I didn't see any need to post it yet.

Fun with Picnik

My sister, who's blog is filled with wonderful stories and great photography (which can be found at http://agritslife.blogspot.com/), introduced me to Picnik.com and I admit it's loads of fun.  Peppy and I created the masterpiece above just by goofing around.  It helps someone like me who's not very talented take some dinky shots and make them look less shabby.  It also gives me a chance to be random when it won't get me into trouble.  Like this little picture of our poodle's seldom seen eye.

Usually his Fro is covering his peeper.  I also decided to doodle a crown on our mutt.  As you can see, I've found a nice tool for expressing my "unique" style. 

I think tomorrow, since I've almost completely recovered from my stomach virus, that Peppy shared like it was an mp3, I'll tell you the legend of Mommy Bear.  It's a story of mystery, intrigue, suspense, and will make you sob with it's sappy sweetness.

Actually, it just might make you a little misty-eyed, but I'm trying to create some excitement.  We all need a little excitement.

Face of Death

I took this photo one night of the cat using my cell phone. When I saw it, I thought to myself that it looks like something that could be the inspiration for the next big thing in horror movies. It's scary and unearthly. It's what I might see before I take my last breath. I don't know why I felt like blogging about this, but it just seemed like just the type of randomness that people have come to expect from me.

Also, I just like to humiliate the cat.

A tale of two hands

Normally that deathly pale hand in the picture is busy on the weekends, along with it's equally dealthy pale partner. Those pasty hands cook meals, do laundry, pour sodas, start baths, and in general take care of the kid that belongs to the beautiful golden brown hand. However, this weekend those roles have been somewhat reversed and that sweet brown hand and it's partner have been the busy ones. Those brown hands have started their own shower, cooked their own meals, let out the dogs, let them back in, fed the cat, and fetched warmer pj's for a very sick mommy. The size of those hands indicate that they belong to a growing boy. What isn't obvious in that picture is that those hands are strong, caring, delicate when needed, animated, and independent of the pale one attached to it. I remember when that brown hand was so small it could only grip one of my fingers and today that hand nearly covers mine. I pray that hand will find the hand of that one true love that fits just right. I hope that one day that hand will grasp the tiny hand of baby and know the love a father has for it's child. I hope that hand works hard and is rewarded. I hope it give many pats on the back and friendly waves. I hope it gives a reassuring squeeze to someone in doubt and a lift up to someone in need. For today, I'm thankful that hand has been so helpful and that it belongs to my sweet boy.

I don't know what they are, but I'll take 5 of them.

Just as I was leaving the office today, I realized that I had missed multiple calls from my son. I checked the voice mail and received an urgent request that I stop by a local store, Smith's Variety, and pick up "animal bracelets." I needed a pack for Peppy and a pack for Ginny and Annieboo too. I called him back to confirm exactly what I was getting. I was told, "They'll know. Just tell them you need animal bracelets." So I waltzed into Smith's Variety where an exhausted looking clerk was resting against the main counter. I asked for animal bracelets and was told they were all sold out. A little girl next to the counter looked up as if she'd just been told that The Jonas Brothers would never sing another note. I think I could almost hear her heart break. I was offered a chance to put my name on the waiting list for when the next shipment arrived. I signed my name, listed my phone number and then told her I would take 5 of them. "Five bracelets, five packs, five...?" the cashier asked. "I dunno. I don't even know what I'm buying, but I know there are three children that want them desperately and if there's a waiting list, I'll ask for two extra. For all I know these bracelets are made of live snakes and leak lead into the skin, but I do know I need them." The cashier shook her head like I was crazy and I thought to myself, "One day you'll have kids and you'll know the drive to provide things of which you have no understanding, just because a child is counting on you to get them." It doesn't matter if it's Luke Skywalker action figures for your two sons, a giggling Elmo doll, or the newest gaming system. At some point the reward of being a hero in a child's eyes will overwhelm common sense and good thinking and you too will ask for five of who-knows-what.

A Fairy Told Me

I have what some would call a "vivid imagination." This has come in handy on multiple occasions when parenting Peppy. As a child, I could create fanciful daydreams that would keep me occupied for hours. As an adult, that same imagination gave me the ability to answer questions far too deep for my child's understanding at the time he asked the questions, ease his fears, distract him from the misery of illnesses or pain, and escort him on his journey to the Land of Nod on more nights than I care to remember. Although Peppy and I are very much alike, we differ in our need to understand. Sometimes I can content myself that there are some things that cannot be explained or understood. My son, so much like his step-father it's almost eerie, needs to see and comprehend the reason behind everything. So there were many times that I would spin a yarn, only to have my serious-minded only child fix me with his soft brown eyes and say, "Mom, is that true?" The first time I encountered this question I debated telling him, "No, Mommy makes things up because you're too young to know how babies are made, too scared to spend the night away from home, not mature enough to understand the workings of a virus, and too darn stubborn to fall asleep without a different story every night" or coming up with something cryptic that would allow his own developing mind to determine truth from fantasy. I went with the road less travelled and said, "I don't know if it's true or not...a fairy told me." One dark eyebrow quirked up and he waited patiently while I told him the following story:

When I was a little girl I would play alone behind the azalea bushes next to our house. One day I saw a tabby cat twitching it's tail back and forth and stalking something in the bushes. I watched as wiggled it's haunches and then pounced on it's prey. Then I heard a little voice calling for help. I peeped under the bushes next to the cat's body and saw in it's paws a tiny little woman with wings so shimmery they reminded me of a bubble. She was not much bigger than one of my dolls and I thought for a moment she was a doll, but I knew she was alive and very afraid. Although I could tell she was beautiful, her face was terrified as she turned it to me not knowing which was a bigger danger...me or the cat. She promised me that if I would free her from the cat, she would grant me a wish. I told her I would help her, even if she disappeared as soon as she was free. Not knowing the best way to get the cat to leave her alone, I decided the best thing to do was frighten the cat into letting her go. So I barked. I barked like the most ferocious dog in the world and the cat took off like her tail was on fire. The little woman then said, "I'm a fairy and you just saved my life. I was here in this bush gathering petals to make a pillow for my bed when the cat attacked. I will keep my promise and you will have your one wish. What do you want most in the world little human girl?" The first thing that popped into my head was that I wanted a friend. I wanted a friend to talk to and play with. One that could stay up late and whisper to me in the dark when I couldn't sleep, or join me in my pretend games and not think I was silly. So I told the fairy, "I want you to be my friend." She laughed and said, "No wish for more wishes? No wish to be rich? No candy? No toys?" I told her that wishes were nothing without some one to share, money didn't stop the scary things in the night and I was certain candy and toys were better when shared with a friend. Then she promised that although she might not always appear to me in her fairy form and we couldn't play every day, she would love me and be my friend forever. For many years my fairy would appear and tell me wonderful stories about her magical home. She would answer questions that the adults around me were too busy to answer and she would keep me company when I was frightened, sad, or hurt. She was my most treasured friend and I love her still to this day.

Then I told Peppy that the stories I told him, and the explanations I gave, were hand me downs from my wonderful fairy friend. I told him that while I didn't know if things I was told were true, I knew they came straight from my fairy. My fairy named Vivid Maggie Nassion.

Long time no see

I had barely started this blog when life brought this fledgeling creation to a screaming halt. I'd really intended to keep a nice running record of my random existence, but a new job, a breast cancer scare, a busy kid, fried laptop, crazy dogs, long summer, flying monkeys, and overwhelming forgetfullness got in the way. But I'm back and hopefully my little blog will be better than ever. Solomwi bought me a camera with some of his hard earned money and I've managed to take a few halfway decent pictures with it. Hopefully, I can share a little about life as it shapes me now and has shaped me in the past. I'm sure life will get in the way again, but as long as the flying monkeys don't steal my new laptop or camera, I'll come back...eventually.