Today’s catblogging is devoted to the shapes that Fanty can turn herself into.
Round
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Archive for News from the Homefront
Friday Catblogging: Fanty Shapes
Irony
Irony alert: Last week when picking Arthur up at dance on Monday, the traffic in the studio parking lot was terrifying. It took me several minutes to be able to safely back out of my spot. When picking him up at his second class on Friday, I noted that being five minutes late was a real advantage; all the “drop-off” parents are gone, only “pick-up” parents are there, so the traffic is cut in half. I told him from now on, expect me to be five or more minutes late.
Irony alert #2: I was very, very tired yesterday. So tired that, after dropping Arthur off at dance, I went to the mall and ended up driving right past it. Just spaced and kept going. So I told myself to drive extra carefully; I felt so tired that I was at risk of causing an accident. So I was kind of peeling my eyeballs to make sure I was being a good driver. I felt really shaky.
Ironic results: Last night, after finishing up at the mall and the supermarket, I was miraculously still a few minutes early for picking Arthur up at dance. So I parked in the very same spot I was in last Monday and waited. And after Arthur got in the car (about five minutes late), while I was still parked, I got hit.
Crunch.
Big ol’ van trying to maneuver in the crowded parking lot, watching the moving cars and the kids walking around and not even looking at the car parked right next to him. A little too right next to him.
Crunch.
So. Fucking A.
An Urge to Invade Poland
I am pleased to announce that Arthur, after a hiatus of a few months, has found a way to add blogging back into his schedule and plans to blog several times a week.
Besides being his mother and proud and goofy and all that, I find Arthur’s thought processes interesting, and I enjoy reading his blog. Often, he’s said something on his blog, I’ve answered on mine, and then we’ve had a lively discussion of the whole thing over dinner.
There aren’t a whole lot of sixteen year-olds blogging about politics and the state of the world. So cool on him.
Filling in the “the”s
On the surface, I’m doing an acrostic puzzle. But really, I’m with Nana.
The acrostic is in a Simon & Schuster spiral bound book of “Crostic” puzzles edited by Thomas Middleton. I am doing this puzzle at the kitchen table, but the binding and the flat, hard cardboard cover make it easy to sit in bed and do these puzzles on my knees.
Like Nana did.
When Nana would come to stay with us, she would have a suitcase full of mysteries and Middleton Crostics. She would read and do puzzles. She used sharp pencils, deadly, blood-drawing sharp pencils, always long. She never seemed to have stubby pencils. And I would get in bed with her, and she would teach me how to do the puzzles. » Read more..
Bits and pieces from home
Mingo killed the shit out of a toy mouse this morning. Seriously, that jingle bell will jingle no more. His victory march was most extraordinarily prideful.
I discovered why I always need to buy socks. When I made the bed this morning, tucked into the blanket was every pair of socks I’ve worn to bed since the last time I made the bed. Verily, a cascade of socks.
Friday Catblogging: Under the Table and Dreaming
Fanty, who generally refuses to be photographed, was under the table at the foot of my bed this morning, and I managed to steal a snap:
Friday Catblogging: All Better
Some pictures of my able-bodied Mingo.
Now that he doesn’t need it, he likes it.
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