Three Things (Okay - Really it's Four)

Because it's always fun to point out what bugs me around my parents' house.




They buy raffle tickets to win meat.*




They can live with curly carpet corners.



In late February, Christmas decorations are still up - on the toilet tank.




(*BONUS ITEM: The clear plastic tablecloth cover, protecting the polyester tablecloth beneath.)

Fore!

So, tomorrow is the day we are having a wee party for Josephine's Fourth Birthday. Smaller in scope this year than last, I still find myself making with all those last-minute little adjustments that mean I'll get to enjoy the day too. Because I just can't be happy unless certain things are taken care of, in order to make the day happen Just So. Things such as having a clean front door.

Clean in that I've cleaned it since this - this is not the way it is cleaned. Usually.



But still, the idea to have just the right little aprons for each guest to wear during the cupcake decorating means that I'm hunched over the coffee table snipping threads and cursing the bobbin and the birthday-girl-to-be is conked out on the sofa.



And I took a minute to look at her, and just...just...wow.





She is going to be four on Monday. How did she get to be four? I mean, one minute, she's this teeny weeny little...


...and next thing you know, she's a Fairy Princess Kitty Ballerina Bride, and she is marrying Boo Boo and those are their babies...


It's incredible. I didn't even feel my heart growing to accommodate all this love I have for this little person. But there it is.

Vintage Valentines - They're Special.

I love a grammatically challenged, forward-thinking go-getter of a girl who cleans up real good. Don't you?

Vintage Valentines...They're Funny Because They Make Me Think

Mostly about how different animals "do it". Because the four-year old is asking lately too. Like, we have a boy snake, and we did find out where his poop-hole is. But she also did wonder where his "penit" is. Also, how if Boo Boo is a boy cat, where is his penit? Is it tucked up inside like a bird?




Which makes me think about cat penises.



Which made me google that, and that made me think about a whole lot of things I never ever ever want to think about again. Like this, and this and this (dumbass).




But you know, it's better than thinking about date-rape! But that's also a really cute purse. I've been purse shopping lately, and am thinking about purses a lot too.

Happy Valentine's Day. Or Not.

Some of my favourite things in the world are my vintage Valentine's Day cards. I've had many of them for over fifteen years, and it's only now that I can share them. Why? Why, because my True Love guaranteed that I got an excellent scanner for Christmas as a present from his parents AND he hooked it all up for me, AND he didn't snark too much when I spent all morning on Sunday scanning them. You see, I was going to sell them at Winkel that day. But then, as I fondled them and went through them, I couldn't. They're awesome. They make me smile. I love them, as obnoxious as it is to give space in my overflowing heart to silly pieces of old paper. They don't take up much room, in my house or in my heart. Once each year, I pull out the Valentines, and admire their quality, and their humour.

For example - the look on this guy's face:


No! Stop! Don't go there! He never wants to know about the ex-husband and how he liked butt play - or the guy who knocked the contraceptive sponge askew and you couldn't grab the loop to get it out and Planned Parenthood was closed over the weekend so you tried to wait and went into Toxic Shock and had to go to the emergency room on a Sunday night and have a cute resident fish the smelly goopy disentegrating thing out...well...for example, I mean.


Oh...well...I see. That's kind of innocent...



But you're still going to push it. Do you think he wants to know how you kissed Guy Herr in the back of the schoolbus on the first day of kindergarten and made him cry and had to apologize in front of the whole class on your first day of school? Or about how you liked Marty Glomski for a whole year just because Julianna Fiddler did? What a waste of time! You didn't know it was okay if you didn't "like" anyone in that way yet! You were still young....hypothetically, I mean.


OH NOOOOO! While admittedly times were more innocent back then - do you really want to remind him of all of the horrible fumbling incidences, the "first" time/times and the sneaking around and "scares" and the desperate submissions in hope of love and attention? DO YOU?! Do you really think looking an a paper mirror with your "But..." is going to erase those thoughts from his head the next time you two get down to it?


Or, there's this one:


Well, now it's no wonder that some women would give cards like the former, if perhaps they were like the subject of the latter.



Especially if they're going to date He-Men...





(More cards tomorrow.)

*Blows Dust Off Blog*

With fingers that hover over the keyboard, filled with excuses or explanations or whatever you want to call them, I realize that simply posting the picture of Molly above, which so perfectly describes how I've felt lately, does not tell the whole story. And I think I always have a story to tell, and I think I probably use too many words to do it too.

But I also believe this will do, for now.

All is well enough - it's just that sometimes you want to curl up into the tiniest ball of Basset Hound that you possibly can, and enjoy that sunbeam, and keep your nose tucked in smelling your own popcorn paw doggie feet, and keep life as simple as eat, sleep, work and play. Don't you?