I'll do this and I'll do that. . . .

June 25, 2011


Thunder and lightening.

In the early morning.

80 pounds of Tikka trying to crawl into my lap.

Is that a haiku?






My books from the British Film Institute arrived.

The top four books are being supported by Stephen's legs. If he's going to be in bed he may as well be useful.

Sadly, not all of the books I wanted were available.

However, Silence of the Lambs, Thelma and Louise, The Godfather, The Shawshank Redemption, Double Indemnity and Taxi Driver were, and they were packaged in a box in the office of our departmental assistant, waiting for me to collect them.

Also in the box of goodies sent up hill from the bookstore, My Life with Bonnie and Clyde by Blanche Caldwell Barrow, wife of Buck Barrow, who was Clyde's brother.

A rainy miserable day.

No children to drive to work until supper time.

And seven new books waiting to be devoured.

I know how I'll spend at least a couple of hours today. . .[insert semi-contented sigh here]. . . .






But only a couple of hours.

The always-present Sword of Damocles is dangling just above my head.

Grocery shopping.

Admittedly, of late I have been somewhat lax in my grocery shopping routine.

Just Em in school, no teaching, trying to establish a new routine that does not include trips to the grocery store. . .

Sending Stephen out once in a while to pick up the necessities, milk, yogurt, Em's gluten free cookies had become the norm.

But now, the revolt has begun.

Children who are not happy with the state of things in Denmark.

My being forced to listen to the whining "there's nothing to eat in this house. . ."

Apparently, fruit, almonds, chicken and sweet potatoes are not enough to sustain my little ones.

And they were so happy to see Stephen's chili sans chicken that it was devoured in less than 24 hours.

At least Keith was.

Em wanted some, but her food issues of late and the ultimate repercussions of experimentation prevented her from trying Stephen's heat infused concoction.

It was good.

But it was also lethal.

As Stephen found out later in the evening.

So my maternal guilt has been switched to HIGH and its off to the grocery store for me this afternoon.

I'd much rather be in bed reading my books thank you very much.

Instead of jostling, navigating, maneuvering, fighting my way through the people packed aisles of the Superstore, feeling like a quarter back on a football field.

While Stephen ambles and meanders happily amid the stocked shelves, feeling as if he's walking through a field of flowers, picking all the ones his little heart desires.

Social construction of reality.

Whose is correct?

MINE!






Alas, book reading won't happen after the grocery store either, as I am resuming my
Saturday-suppers-at-the-nursing-home today.

I haven't been for a few weeks.

Lunch time BBQs at the Nursing Home, granite bench dedications, shopping with Mum on a Saturday afternoon all prevented me from dining on homemade brown bread and baked beans.

I am taking Mum shopping tomorrow, but, this evening we will visit over plates of bread and beans.

So maybe, just maybe, I'll get to my books later this evening, after I return home and before the kids need to be collected from work.






In case you couldn't tell, I am really enjoying Stephen's camera.

I has allowed me to take pictures of the favourite things in my life.

Family.

This was my family in 1980.

Keep your comments to yourself.

Bunny and Reilley in their special place.

Tikka and Frankie playing together, happy because Mummy and Daddy have come home from work.

My houseplants, of which there are many.

Too many if you ask Stephen.

Frankie playing with his football.

His squeaky football.

He's only allowed to have it for brief periods of time.

It's all our collective nerves can stand.

Reminders of what's important.

Gifts from friends who are no longer with us.

The odd things around our house. . . .

Goblet.

This is how she looks at me all the time.

Stephen's Snoopy lunch box. The one he thinks will make him thousands on ebay but I refuse to let him part with it.

 A bizarre blue fish passed on to us by Stephen's parents.

Our house is full of weird, wonderful, and in some cases, prophetic things.

I picked this up at a craft fair years ago.

Stephen felt the need to edit it when we got together.

A sadly empty whiskey jug.

Anything and everything is fodder for me and the camera.

One day, maybe Stephen will be allowed to use it.



Title Lyric: This and That by Michael Penn