• Oscar Re-Cap
  
  Well, when I saw Rebecca's post reviewing the Oscars I saw no point at all in posting another one. Hers is spot on (for the most part anyway) and hilariously funny. I disagree on several incredibly important counts though. Issues that I feel compelled to bring to light given the seriousness of the occasion.
  
  Jessica Biel's dress: No, Bec, this is not a good look. I know you feel kindly toward Ms. Biel on account of her example of How to Get Ready For Your Own Action Flick, but really? This dress? This color? No.
• Gwyneth Paltrow's Acting Ability: Shame on you. I know you dismiss the likes of Shakespeare in Love and Emma as "chick flicks" and therefore only suitable for occasional viewing with your mother when she's mad at you and you want to extend the olive branch , but I feel you are far too dismissive of Ms. Paltrow's acting ability. AND while you may not appreciate her acting ability, it's beyond the pale to assert that she is an alien out to wreak havoc on humanity. I have it on good authority that she is not one of the Pod People. She just had the misfortune to employ one of the Pod People's hairdressers for the occasion. How silly of you to have fallen for their ploy.
• Penelope Cruz's dress: I know I'm in a minority among the family Oscar viewers (and probably among many fashion critics) but I liked Penelope's dress. I loved the color and while I agree that the train on the dress was a bit much, I thought she looked lovely. So there.

Since Rebecca did such a nice job with the Oscar review/recap, there's little more I can say other than to fill you all in on what she left about about the evening.

• She showed up late. Shameful.
• Because she and Bob showed up just as the show was starting they opted to share one ballot for their selections instead of taking the extra 3 minutes to make a copy. Apparently a mistake given the remainder of the evening.
• Because they shared a ballot, there were appalling altercations between the two of them throughout the night. Moral of the story? Don't attempt to fill out a ballot with another person, especially when a Barnes and Noble gift card for the person who correctly predicts the most winners is on the line.
• She found it necessary to ruffle her sister's hair numerous times throughout the night. This is definitely not a recommended practice. It annoys the heck out of Caroline, which means that the rest of us get annoyed at her annoyance, her sister's glee and Bob's egging on. Rebecca ended up getting kicked in the head though, so I guess they're even. (Caroline insists that the kick was an "accident". None of us are fooled. She's little, and looks lovely and sweet, but we all know better.)
• She and Bob drove well out of their way to bring me my glasses that I left at my parents' house.
• Bob purchased a darling little primrose for me to make up for his part in the Caroline Incident
• Spending time with my mother and daughters (and Bob too), even with the altercations and mussed hair, is absolutely one of my favorite things in the world to do.

Already looking forward to next year!

Oscar Anticipation

Ooh . . . tonight's Oscar night! I know, I know. Hollywood's superficial, artificial and Botoxed to the hilt, but I love it anyway. Well, except for the Botox. Lately every time I see actual laugh lines, crow's feet, or forehead wrinkles on an actor, male or female, I practically stand up and cheer. It's not just because I'm in my 40s now either, although that probably has something to do with it. I just appreciate seeing people who don't look like they've been abducted by Plastic-faced Pod People aliens in the middle of the night and set back down to star in the latest motion picture for a $20 million price tag.

While I love the Oscars, it isn't often that I get to see all of the nominated performances. This year was a particularly bad year for me. I only saw 4 of the 5 films nominated for Best Picture and few others. Regardless of my dismal movie-going habits this year, I will make my predictions for tonight's winners. With a bow of gratitude to Entertainment Weekly (my weekly Hollywood fix), here are my predictions for the "big" ones:

Actor - Leading:
Forest Whitaker
Actor Supporting:
Eddie Murphy
Actress- Leading:
Helen Mirren
Actress- Supporting:
Jennifer Hudson
Directing:
Martin Scorsese
Documentary Feature:
An Inconvenient Truth
Best Picture:
The Departed (please, please not Babel - what has to be the most dreadful film of the year)
Screenplay - Adapted:
Children of Men
Screenplay Original:
Little Miss Sunshine

Well, I'm off to get ready for a chocolate-laden Oscarfest with my mother and my girls. I'll check back in and give you my terribly biased and opinionated take on the evening's winners.

Have fun at your own Oscar party!

Old Friends and New Blogs

I wanted to take a moment and let you all know about my friend Kristin's new blog. Not only is she a lovely friend, quick with a warm smile and a ready ear to listen, she's an absolutely terrific writer. Kristin's equally at home writing insightful commentaries and laugh-out-loud anecdotes. Many's the time I've sat at my computer desk completely helpless with belly laughs.

Wondering why I used a vintage chocolate ad to showcase Kristin's new blog? Take a look at her blog and wonder no more. Country Mouse Comes Unhinged

A few other blogs that I've been really enjoying lately are:

SmilnSigh
A Happy Miscellany
Under a Blue Moon

Sooo many blogs out there to read! What a pleasure! I just wish I had the whole comment etiquette down. It still puzzles me. It's that New England Yankee reserve I think. I love getting comments so why I hesitate to comment on other's blogs never ceases to amaze me.

Off to read some more blogs . . .

GRRR!!!

What on earth is up with Blogger not letting me have paragraph breaks? This is unacceptable.

First it takes me forever to find time to post. Time where I'm not being badgered incessantly for something or another by someone or another. Then I have to find artwork. Why is it that I seem to have masses of clip art/image books and can never find what I'm looking for? I won't even tell you about my forays into Googleland for images. Those tales would raise the hair on your neck. Just a note. Don't attempt to look for "1940-50s Housewife images". Trust me.

Then, once that's done, I actually have to write the post. All very time consuming and labor intensive. Well, whether it is or not is beside the point. Blogger should make sure that the actual "new" Blogger actually works.

Sheesh.

Bliss

It's been a quiet day. One that has, for once, afforded me completely uninterrupted time. All of my children were busy and away from home. A rarity for this stay-at-home, homeschooling mother. My middle daughter worked today. My youngest daughter enjoyed the rare treat of time alone with my oldest daughter, watching a film at her apartment and playing with her kitten. Bliss for a 10 year old. Which allows bliss for the 40 something - time alone in a completely silent house.

Well, not completely since the dog WOULD. NOT. STOP. BARKING. TODAY. Of course, she might defend herself by saying that she was alerting me to (and of course, defending me from) terrifying and alarming things. Like the cat from two houses over. Or the car that had the audacity to pull into its driveway. Or, most infuriating of all, the beagle from next door. So, it was kind of, sort of blissfully quiet for me . . . Kind of . . . Oh well, I'll take what I can get.

Most of my friends would spend that time productively. Baking something luscious or crafting something amazing. I've told you all before how much I love those homey, crafty blogs out there. Those blogs filled with writings from those women filled with creative energy. I imagine myself in their homes. Seeing the moment that they arise to the lilt of songbirds. Watching them craft with the assistance of charming children and assorted animated animals who rush in with needle, thread or the perfect button. That is not me, I'm afraid. I might have the idea that I'd like to craft something, but the will to do so is often sadly lacking these days. Then again, if I had the assistance of charming children and darling animated creatures to do my bidding, I might feel a bit more inclined. No such luck, I'm afraid. The crafty, homey, cozy blogwomen, who look so nice, but obviously have nefarious intent, have absconded with all of the cheerful chipmunks, busy beavers, persevering porcupines (who also double as pincushions), and diligent doggies and have locked them away in their cottages. Probably keeping them from forming unions to protect their rights too. Ha! No wonder they craft so beautifully and prolifically!

Okay, so I'm reaching a bit for a reason that explains why they are crafting and I'm not. Time to put resentful Walt Disney images of little cottages scattered throughout the country with hard working animals and humans out of my head and concentrate on motivating myself.

It would still be easier though with a handy animal or two around to help though, wouldn't it?

Reading Challenges

Well, as difficult as this is, I have a confession to make to you all. I feel I need to come clean to you. For I have failed. Failed in a humiliating and deeply distressing way. A way that sincerely calls into question my intellect, level of conviction, and even my character.

It is with deep, abiding shame that I inform you of my neglect in completing my Autumn Reading Challenge. There I have said it. Failed. Such an ugly word.

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure why I decided it was a good idea to share with my readers that I was going to read books that, while edifying in the extreme, apparently held little interest for me in the first place. I could have just been reasonable and whispered the challenge to myself and been spared this public humiliation. As I did not do this eminently wise thing, I now am forced to announce my shame. If I am to be completely honest with you, not only did I not "complete" the challenge, I didn't read most of the books on that list. I did read several and I think I plan to read several more, but the full truth is that I am guilty of neglecting my brain.

I do read a lot. All the time. Voraciously. I'm an equal opportunity reader as well and read just about anything. Well, okay. That's a bit of an overstatement. I'm not terribly keen on comic books, westerns, bodice rippers, quantum physics manuals, or 20th century war chronicles. Other than that, I'm fairly open minded about what I'll read. I generally read a bit more nonfiction than fiction, but really enjoy a wide variety of fiction as well. So, while this whole paragraph sounds like a desperate attempt to redeem anyone's perception of my intelligence in the face of my obvious recent intellectual shortcomings, it is true. Really. Romances? Vampire novels? Some light travelogues? Well, sure. Yeah, I've spent a bit of time with those genres lately, but still. There are other things I've read to. Like that book on string theory. Of course, the author lost me on that one in the first chapter, but I did read it. Kind of. Well, I told you I didn't like quantum physics manuals. String theory's sort of connected with quantum physics, right?

Oh my. This is sounding just pathetic . . .

Here's hoping that the winter will hold many intellectual challenges for me in the guise of fabulous books. Here's hoping that I figure out what the definition of "quantum physics" entails. Here's also hoping that, at the very least, I'm wise enough not to issue challenges to myself publicly that myself likely won't complete.

The Perfidy of Weather Forecasters


Things are not at their best in my household lately. I'm at turns snappish and anguished. I'm frustrated and angry. In short, I feel betrayed. I've tried to ignore this desperate feeling, but it simply won't go away. I've tried to be reasonable and understanding, but it's no use. It's not a man that inspires such feelings in me, it's those damn weather forecasters. Oh, I know. It's a difficult profession. They can't be perfect. I get that. Intellectually I appreciate that the weather is a challenge to predict, especially here. Emotionally though, it's another story.

Last week was the absolute straw that broke the camel's back. The forecasters were sure that we'd have snow. Nice amounts of snow for this area. It wasn't a question of "if", it was a question of "how much". Bet you can guess how much we got. Nothing. Not a thing. Zip. The forecasters scurried about and published elaborate explanations as to why the "can't miss" snow missed, but their real reason for such hurried explanations was clear. They were concerned that the numerous disappointed residents of the state would revolt and storm the television and radio studios, demanding that someone, somewhere attain god status and accurately predict the weather.


I thought I was over my disappointment. I thought I was finally able to accept the bald truth. I live in an area that just doesn't get much snow. There. I've said it. The days of my youth spent in ice skates and on sleds are not going to be duplicated by my own children. Hot chocolate with marshmallows drank while your nose is red and your fingers begin to tingle as they warm up is just a nice story for my children. I've bravely opted to pretend that I like seeing all this green in January. Just as I felt secure in my acceptance, they did it again. They're calling for snow again on Tuesday. Ha. Yeah right. Sure. It'll happen. They won't get me to hope again. I'm rock solid.


Maybe though, just in case, I ought to make sure we have enough hot chocolate in the house . . .

Remembrances of Times Past
Or
What I Learned Over Christmas Vacation

1. Waiting until Christmas week to make Christmas treats (so they are nice and fresh naturally) is a recipe for a nervous breakdown. A breakdown with lots of tasty, fresh nibbles, but a breakdown nonetheless.

2. Nearly 10 yr. old child + American Girl requests = serious expenses.

3. Golden Retrievers never mature - no matter what the breeder tells you.

4. Blown glass ornaments are no match for a 4 yr. old "mature" Golden Retriever.

5. Elderly, portly cats often are displeased when baby cats come to visit and endeavor to show their displeasure in unpleasant ways.

6. Smoking chimneys need firefighters' attention.

7. Children, adult or not, who live in houses with smoking chimneys scare mothers.

8. Origami ornament kits meant to be made with nearly 10 yr. old child as gifts for the family that say "8 and up with supervision - 10 and up alone" lie.

9. Viewing A Christmas Story for the umpteenth time still makes me happy. Watching it with the nearly 10 year old baby of the family (who you know is taking notes on how to be precocious) for the first time is more than a bit terrifying. I'm expecting to be "triple dog dared" any day now on some consequence I've given.

10. East, West, Home is Best - especially one de-Christmased and clean!

We look forward to the time when the Power of Love will replace the Love of Power. Then will our world know the blessings of peace.
William Gladstone (1809-1898)

Global Observance of Peace
Before heading off to bed tonight, I decided to take the opportunity to catch up on some blog reading. I started off with Mrs. Staggs' A Happy Miscellany , always a pleasant interlude to my day. There I read of the What if For Just One Day . . . blog and was immediately compelled to write my own post in support of the effort to observe two minutes of silence on 12/30 in recognition of the desperate need for peace in our world. So, please take two minutes tonight and silently consider the need for peace, tolerance and understanding among us all. It's a small step for each of us individually, but collectively what amazing possibilities lie before us!

Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.
Buddha (560-483 B.C.)

Inexcusable Absence

Well, it's been a while since I posted and I'm afraid I have no acceptable reason to explain my absence. If I were Anne of Anne of Green Gables, I might be able to come up with a somewhat implausible, but highly entertaining, reason why I haven't. As you might have guessed though, I am not Anne so it will have to remain a mystery as to why I have not posted. (*hint - It might have just a little, tiny bit to do with laziness)

While I absolutely love the wonderful homemaking and craft blogs out there, and I do mean love, there are times when I feel like I have a bit more in common with the women in an Anne Taintor image than I do with Martha Stewart. So, I will leave you with a couple of images that are truly speaking to me during this festive, holiday season while I try and think of a decent blog entry to post next.

Enjoy.

King Kitty

My parents have been carousing out east coast way for over a week now and expect to be gone for another two. While I'm thrilled they are kicking up their heels at various east coast hot spots (you know how those relatives can party!), I'll be just as thrilled when they return. For one, I miss them terribly. I speak with my mother every day and it's hard to not be able to pick up the phone and chat. I do have to admit that my parents have called often since they left 10 days ago, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's not just to check and see how we or the children are doing. It's primarily to see how their very pampered pet cat is doing while visiting us.

We're familiar with pets around here. We have had a multitude over the years and currently house 1 fish, 2 gerbils, 2 cats, and a dog (you'll recall I discussed her here). We're terribly fond of our pets, most of the time anyway, but we're not what I would call pet obsessed. While I have to be honest and say that pet baby talk does often pass my lips, that's the extent of the pet pampering that goes on in this house. My parents and their cat however are another story.

You could tell when they brought him over that they had many things to say. Far more I might add than I did when I left my oldest daughter with them for the first time. First, he likes only one kind of litter. My parents didn't elaborate much here and frankly, I'm not willing to test this. He also likes his litter scooped right away (who can blame him?) and then smoothed out carefully. He likes his canned food damped slightly with a bit of water; just a drop or two. He also is very fond of running water and would appreciate it if we'd run some for him often. He loves hair elastics, paper balls and, despises most humans - when he deigns to notice them that is. My husband refused to believe this even after repeated cautions. One evening soon after Tigger was dropped off, my husband tried to cuddle and pet him. Tigger allowed this at first but kept up a continuous yowl and growl. I warned my husband that this meant he wasn't happy, but he blithely ignored me and insisted that even though he sounded vicious, he was obviously enjoying being petted. The next thing I heard out of my husband's mouth was - yeah, you guessed it - "OW!". While I acknowledge that it was unkind of me, I could barely breathe because I was laughing so hard at Tigger's show of "appreciation" and "enjoyment".

While Tigger is indeed large of girth, he's no match for our portly pooch, Layla. This however doesn't stop him from asserting his superiority and demanding acknowledgement of his illustriousness. This acknowledgement hasn't come easily to Tigger, but he is undaunted in his quest. When clear submission wasn't forthcoming, he waited until she was in her crate for the night, went up to the grilled door and lambasted her. The fact that she was sleeping was unimportant. He hissed. He growled. He batted at the door of the crate. This seemed to satisfy him, although to all who have witnessed this battle, Layla remains unimpressed and unlikely to call Tigger "Your Majesty" any time soon.

As Tom Petty said on his album "Wildflowers", it's apparently good to be king, even if only in your own mind.

Sisterly Affection - Part Two

Cast:
R- eldest daughter - 22
C- middle daughter - 17
M - delightful, engaging, and intelligent family matriarch

The Scene: Evening at a typical American family home. Light filters down over 3 people playing UNO at a dinner table while waiting for expected guests. Joyous laughter is heard and giddy happiness is evident on their faces.

R: C, it's your turn to shuffle.
C: I hate to shuffle.
R: Okay, it's still your turn to shuffle.
C: No. I hate to shuffle.
R (groans in an exaggerated fashion): Oh, please. Give me a break! It's your turn to shuffle!
C: (stubbornly) I hate to shuffle.
M (reaching for cards): Here. I'll do it.

M shuffles the cards in a graceful as well as adroit fashion and deals a hand for each player. Being that R is the next person clockwise from C, it's her turn.

M: R, go ahead. It's your turn.
R: No it isn't. C didn't shuffle, you did. It's C's turn.
C: I'm not going. Mom shuffled for me.
R: It was your turn to shuffle! You didn't. Mom did. Therefore, it's your turn to go first.
C: Mom shuffled for me, therefore it's your turn to go first.
R: No it isn't! You did not shuffle. Since you did not shuffle and mom did, YOU go next!
C: I'm not going to go next.

Let it be clear at this point that there is an innocuous UNO card showing. No "Wild Card Draw Four", no "Skip", no "Reverse" or "Draw Two". There is no harm evident for the player going first.

R: (R has what appears to be a teasing grin on her face, but it is belied by the cool, steely look in her eyes.) Fine. I'm leaving if you're not going to play properly.
C: (shrugging) Okay, go ahead. Whatever. I'm not going first.
M (Calm, collected demeanor starting to crack): What are you two going on about? Someone go next!
R: I'm not going next.
C: I'm not going either.
M: Who cares who goes first? Someone take your turn!
(M takes a look around the table at her daughters. She looks a bit wild and honestly can't even remember why they wanted to play this foolish game in the first place. She takes a calculated risk and, crossing her fingers behind her back, asks C for her cooperation) C? Why don't you go ahead?
C: (C looks over to her mother and decides to be helpful and gracious) Okay.

Play resumes - finally.

Scene closes (thankfully!!)

Finally!

Well, after weeks of procrastination, half pint jars of apple butter now grace my shelves. The house smelled lovely all day yesterday as the apple butter simmered. Quite a change from the smells I'm normally accustomed to facing each day. As a small sample of the olfactory goodness that is my home I give you two examples: the dog (please tell me why their breath smells the way it does?) and the shoes of the youngest (I'm sure I need say nothing else about that scent). Suffice to say, neither smell is quite as nice as the apple butter.

There's something so incredibly satisfying seeing those jars lined up on a shelf, isn't there? I've still got close to 20 lbs. of apples to deal with. I'm thinking that canned apple pie filling is next on the agenda. If I'm not ready to start chucking the apples out the back door for the raccoons later, I might try my hand at some applesauce too.

Laziness, as appealing as it generally is to me on a daily basis, might not be an option tomorrow.

Sibling Rivalry

Oh, how lovely the children at right are. Such a picture of sisterly love, affection and assistance! Of course, the minute the illustrator's back was turned, they began arguing over who had turned the rope enough times, who had the prettiest dress, who was spoiled and indulged, who worked the hardest, who never worked at all, and, of course, that perennial favorite - who was mother's favorite. At least, ignoring the jump rope for the moment, those are the arguments that I've heard my own three daughters engage in on occasion.

Early last week, I left my youngest at home with my husband and headed off with my middle daughter to visit the eldest, who has lived away from home for over a year now. It seemed like a good idea at the time. We'd head off to the local market, pick up something yummy for dinner and dessert, and head over to her place for a fun DVD. It sounds good in theory but . . well, you'll see.

First the market. We spent what felt like hours searching the market for something that everyone wanted to eat. While it didn't help that we were there around 7:30-8:00 pm and many of the "hot buffet" and soups were being put away for the evening, it still took far longer than it should have to agree on something to eat. Finally settling on fresh pasta, fresh alfredo sauce, and salad, we headed out, happy at last. That is, until we actually got there. Once we arrived, my oldest and middle decided to argue over who was actually going to cook the pasta and warm up the sauce. I kid you not, 10 minutes tops to "cook" dinner and they argued over who had to do it. Once I put the pot of water on the stove, difficult task that it was, we spent a blissful 30 minutes or so of argument free companionship. Of course, we completely forgot that the water had been boiling for the same 30 minutes - all alone, without pasta. Upon that realization, I, once again, put the pasta in the water. This made me somewhat churlish and irritated since I'd already cooked dinner at home for my husband and daughter. Heading back to the living room with the girls to await the pasta, I cuddled my oldest on the sofa. My middle daughter took one insulted look and insisted that it had been "ages" since I'd held her that way. Keep in mind we're talking about a 22 yr. old and a 17 yr. old, who, BTW, I cuddle and hug every single day. While arguing about who got the most of my attention, the pasta boiled merrily on, completely forgotten. No one had thought to set the timer.

With the preparation of dinner out of the way, (if that's what it could be called - tortellini that was practically bursting it was so overcooked) it was time to check out Rebecca's assortment of movies and make a selection suitable for dinnertime viewing. The girls insisted that the choice of "Resident Evil", "Resident Evil: Apocolypse", "28 Days Later" and other assorted zombie films were indeed appropriate for viewing while eating pasta and salad. I found myself less than enthusiastic at the prospect of such stellar storytelling and visual mayhem. I suggested "Die Hard". Now, at first this may seem like an unlikely choice, given that there is indeed mayhem, visual and otherwise. However, the film does have a decided lack of zombies - a significant plus in my view. No deal. Caroline was adamantly against Bruce Willis and Alan Rickman at their finest. Maybe "The Ref"? Nope. Bec had already seen it with her boyfriend recently. "The Matrix" (always a crowd pleaser)? Bec and Andrew just saw it recently as well (sheesh, don't these two ever do anything other than watch films that I want to watch???). How about "Monsoon Wedding"? Are you kidding? Subtitles . . . tonight?? And so on and so on. We finally agreed on - drumroll please - a Joquain Phoenix film called "Clay Pigeons". A sigh of relief was had by all . . . that is until we actually attempted to watch the film. Oh my. A worse film you couldn't hope to find. Ever.

With dinner completed and a film partially watched before being abandoned in disgust, it was time to head home. To say I was drained and cranky is an understatement. It appeared that the stars were simply not aligned for a stress-free evening with my girls. To add insult to utter injury, the following morning, my youngest daughter informed me that the dinner I'd made sure I cooked for her and her father the night before went uneaten. The two of them decided that they'd eat out.

Life remains seriously unfair.

Autumn Reading Challenge Update

It is with heavy heart and shame that I admit the "progress" I have made this autumn with my reading challenge. Apparently I have descended into whatever level of hell it is that takes away the ability to focus on anything edifying for any decent length of time but still allows you to devour a Nora Roberts book in an afternoon. With that insight into my brain (what's left of it), you'll understand why Devil in the White City is no longer one of my "current reads". While I know that my daughter and husband found the book highly enjoyable and interesting, I'm not feelin' it (as my oldest would say). The Portable Dorothy Parker is a better choice for me right now and I'm getting ready to start on Sailing the Wine Dark Sea.

Did I really say I'd read Walden???

Another Birthday!

We've been fortunate enough to celebrate another wonderful year in the life of my oldest daughter, now 22. 22! I still can't believe that number. I remember holding her in my arms like it was yesterday. I vividly remember all those feelings of being a brand new parent. Pride, worry, and confusion were rampant. Most of all though was the sheer sense of wonder that this small being had made her arrival and was now part of our lives. Forever. In our hearts, our minds, every fiber of our beings.

She's grown into quite a woman. Unbelieveably accomplished and competent, she's a bedrock for the small company she works for. I continually remain in awe of the scope and range of her abilities, both in the workplace and without. She has a wonderful sense of humor and fun hidden (only slightly for anyone who knows her) beneath a more serious demeanor. Her very tender heart is evident to anyone who spends longer than a few minutes in her company and her sense of loyalty and consideration run deep. She's extremely talented and creative, but has a strong streak of pragmatism running through her that keeps her grounded. She makes the world a better place simply by her existance.

I know that I go on and on about my daughters, but I feel so incredibly fortunate to not only be so proud of my daughters, but enjoy their company so much. They are truly the most wonderful friends I could have. It is absolutely impossible to sum up the incredible human beings they are with mere words. I simply know that I am beyond grateful that they are a part of my life.

Bad Days

The day before yesterday was a bad day. There are a myriad of reasons why that day was a bad day, but I'm convinced that it could have been nothing other than a bad day because of my choice of ill-fitting undergarments. I know of no woman who is happy the day she has to wear her "emergency" underwear.

Note to self: No matter how compelling "The Gilmore Girls" DVD appears to be the night before, it's important to put a load of laundry into the washing machine.

Back to School Week - Decorated Notebooks

Well, I finally had a day to myself and was able to decorate the notebooks that I wrote about earlier. I started with this one:

Just a simple one to jot down plans, thoughts, or other insprirations.

Then came this one:

I'm not necessarily crazy about this one, but I wanted to do nature notebooks this year and this was my attempt at using what I had on hand instead of running out to the scrapbook store. Susannah's nature notebook was next:

This one I liked. I hope she does too. Finally I did one for her just to have:

I still need to do one for her copywork, but I was done for the day.

Don't forget to check out Clarice's finished project and also take a look at my daughter Rebecca's finished projects here and here. What a fun project!

Not Back to School Week

We "school" year round here in our house, but as Clarice says about her family, even we feel the back-to-school vibe around this time of year. Generally this doesn't mean much more to me than I get to haul out the fall decorating things for the corner cupboard and heave a serious sigh of relief that the heat is over, but this year I want to make a few changes to our routine (or general lack of).

I don't often mark the beginning of the school year with any sort of tradition or celebration, but this year I'm thinking that a small gift or two might be a good way to help us incorporate some of those changes to our routine that I'm planning. Clarice has inspired many of us with her composition notebook redecorating. Since compiling and maintaining a nature notebook is high on my "to do" list for this year, I thought I'd decorate one of the many main lesson books that I have on hand for my youngest to use. Since learning cursive is high on her "to do" list this year, I thought I'd decorate a composition book for that purpose as well. How much nicer could it be than to do your work in beautifully decorated notebooks and composition books?

Now, if only my ideas for incorporating exercise, more vegetables and a cleaner house into our routine for the coming fall were as easy to implement, I'd be a happy woman.

Autumn Reading Challenge

I'm sad to say that I've spent the summer reading books that aren't exactly what I'd call intelligent, stimulating or otherwise scholarly. They've been lots of fun, and I think there's definitely room in a reader's library for "fluff", but with the fall coming on, I'm looking for a reason to push myself a bit more intellectually. While poking around blogland this morning, I came across this reading challenge from Seasonal Surroundings. This definitely intrigued me. So, with an aim to challenge myself a bit and clear off my "to be read" shelf, here's my list:

One Hundred Years of Solitude Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Sense and Sensibility Jane Austen
Sailing the Wine Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter Thomas Cahill
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America Erik Larson
Lipstick Jihad: A Memoir of Growing up Iranian in America and American in Iran Azadeh Moaveni
The Secret Life of Bees Sue Monk Kidd
The Razor's Edge W. Somerset Maugham
The Portable Dorothy Parker Dorothy Parker, Marion Meade (editor)
Walden Henry David Thoreau

Well, there's some intellectual stimulation there. If I were really serious though, I'd add some Aristotle and Plato - something I've been meaning to read or reread for years. I'd even add George Elliot's Middlemarch, which I've been avoiding for even more years. Oh well, maybe for a winter challenge??? :-)