And quite a ball it was. Blue, rubber, about the size of a large grapefruit; filled with sand, which made it rather heavy; and with the word CARNEGIE inexplicably printed in large white block letters on one side.
But the best part was when she handed it to me and I responded, "Toothbrush, hairbrush, BIG BLUE BALL!"
And her father instantly said, "Ah! In a People House!"
I looked surprised. He laughed. "Hey, I have a toddler."
Maybe I'm biased toward the book, but Adam S. gets my vote for best obscure literary reference recognition of the day. (Considering the eclectic group gathered, there were quite a few...)
27 November 2006
25 November 2006
Day after Thanksgiving: sales or adventures?
We saw the advertisements for stores opening at 5am on Friday and rolled our eyes. How addicted to consumerism do you have to be to brave huge crowds before sunrise? Sure, the sales must be good... but we were going to stay well out of stores. It just didn't seem worth it.
But then it turned out to be the sort of day where one is in the mood to do something daring and unconventional. Adventures were in order. Given that we are hobbits at heart, this still didn't mean shopping, but it did end up getting merged with plans for lunch. Why not explore a part of town we'd never seen, find some inexpensive and preferably foreign hole-in-the-wall cafe, and try to locate the offices of the C. S. Lewis Foundation of Redlands (which, by the by, owns and has renovated The Kilns)?
An hour later, having found the C. S. Lewis Foundation (in an unassuming storefront) and also what must be the biggest scrapbooking store in the Inland Empire, if not all Southern California, we were still looking for lunch. We had just climbed out of the car to wander around yet another plaza in search of the right cuisine, when a woman with two small children in tow asked us if we were going to Jo-Ann's Fabrics. (It was a reasonable guess; Jo-Ann's was the nearest big store.) Without seeming to hear my startled confession that no, in fact, we hadn't been planning on it, she handed me a 50% off coupon and said kindly, "I'm not going to use it, but I was hoping somebody could." She herded her little ones toward a nearby minivan as I called my thanks after her.
We looked at each other, shrugged, and decided maybe we could look for Christmas decorations after all. Thanks to a stranger's random act of kindness, we braved the crowds (which weren't actually all that bad inside Jo-Ann's, seeing as it was now afternoon) and found ourselves a Christmas tree for under $20. I wish I knew that mother's name; I would dearly like to thank her.
To finish our adventure, we finally found Rosie's Cafe, whose sign advertised
(quotation marks and all). It was rather a late lunch, but worth the wait. And they offered horchata, which, thanks to slowlane, is one of my favourites.
Adventures: not always nasty and cold, but occasionally late for dinner-- er, luncheon. But when luncheon is enchiladas, guacamole, taquitos, and horchata (which must be the SoCal equivalent of tea, biscuits, poppy-seed cakes, and mincemeat pies)-- well, I think that ranks as a happy adventure. Eh, Mr. Bilbo?
But then it turned out to be the sort of day where one is in the mood to do something daring and unconventional. Adventures were in order. Given that we are hobbits at heart, this still didn't mean shopping, but it did end up getting merged with plans for lunch. Why not explore a part of town we'd never seen, find some inexpensive and preferably foreign hole-in-the-wall cafe, and try to locate the offices of the C. S. Lewis Foundation of Redlands (which, by the by, owns and has renovated The Kilns)?
An hour later, having found the C. S. Lewis Foundation (in an unassuming storefront) and also what must be the biggest scrapbooking store in the Inland Empire, if not all Southern California, we were still looking for lunch. We had just climbed out of the car to wander around yet another plaza in search of the right cuisine, when a woman with two small children in tow asked us if we were going to Jo-Ann's Fabrics. (It was a reasonable guess; Jo-Ann's was the nearest big store.) Without seeming to hear my startled confession that no, in fact, we hadn't been planning on it, she handed me a 50% off coupon and said kindly, "I'm not going to use it, but I was hoping somebody could." She herded her little ones toward a nearby minivan as I called my thanks after her.
We looked at each other, shrugged, and decided maybe we could look for Christmas decorations after all. Thanks to a stranger's random act of kindness, we braved the crowds (which weren't actually all that bad inside Jo-Ann's, seeing as it was now afternoon) and found ourselves a Christmas tree for under $20. I wish I knew that mother's name; I would dearly like to thank her.
To finish our adventure, we finally found Rosie's Cafe, whose sign advertised
Homemade "Authentic"
Mexican Food
Mexican Food
(quotation marks and all). It was rather a late lunch, but worth the wait. And they offered horchata, which, thanks to slowlane, is one of my favourites.
Adventures: not always nasty and cold, but occasionally late for dinner-- er, luncheon. But when luncheon is enchiladas, guacamole, taquitos, and horchata (which must be the SoCal equivalent of tea, biscuits, poppy-seed cakes, and mincemeat pies)-- well, I think that ranks as a happy adventure. Eh, Mr. Bilbo?
24 November 2006
On the probable duration of authorship
Me: I woke up this morning with a great desire to try to write a fantasy novel.
My husband: You can do it. You've got the day off!
My husband: You can do it. You've got the day off!
15 November 2006
Neuroses
Last night, I apparently contracted a form of evangelistic and neurotic insomnia. I must have awakened three or four times between 1am and 3am, utterly and urgently convinced that it was my duty to wake my husband, feed him breakfast, and send him off to school. Despite the fact that it was completely dark. Despite the fact that the alarm clock was unarguably silent. Despite the fact that he sleeps very soundly between 1am and 3am.
For some un-reason, it was apparently very important that we both get out of bed and start the day at that hour. Until the voice of reason spoke (very kindly and patiently, I might add).
"What is it?"
But all my confused neurosis could find to say was "Uh... I don't know." And go back to sleep. And try it again less than an hour later.
All I can say is... I've got one amazing husband, if he can still have kind words after the fourth time of being nudged out of a sound sleep, for no reason, at an hour when no one should be up (let alone waking others)...
For some un-reason, it was apparently very important that we both get out of bed and start the day at that hour. Until the voice of reason spoke (very kindly and patiently, I might add).
"What is it?"
But all my confused neurosis could find to say was "Uh... I don't know." And go back to sleep. And try it again less than an hour later.
All I can say is... I've got one amazing husband, if he can still have kind words after the fourth time of being nudged out of a sound sleep, for no reason, at an hour when no one should be up (let alone waking others)...
12 November 2006
Graduating... to decapitating chickens??
According to a knowledgeable friend, one who watches anime has been elevated from being a "nerd" to being a "geek."
Who was it that decided bookish obsessiveness was hierarchical?
Anyway, we are apparently now "geeks." Except that knowing obscure derivations of words is apparently a "nerd" characteristic. Maybe we're some kind of weird hybrid.
And if the title of this post makes no sense to you... try this, or ask my original source...
Who was it that decided bookish obsessiveness was hierarchical?
Anyway, we are apparently now "geeks." Except that knowing obscure derivations of words is apparently a "nerd" characteristic. Maybe we're some kind of weird hybrid.
And if the title of this post makes no sense to you... try this, or ask my original source...
06 November 2006
Digital liberation
Walking barefoot can be dangerous.
Perhaps you will say that I should learn this truth by gazing upon two toenails, reproachfully and translucently displaying their respective spots of dried blood.
The only problem is that both injuries occurred while I was wearing sandals.
Come to think of it, the time they pain me most is when I put my work shoes on.
Free the toes!
Perhaps you will say that I should learn this truth by gazing upon two toenails, reproachfully and translucently displaying their respective spots of dried blood.
The only problem is that both injuries occurred while I was wearing sandals.
Come to think of it, the time they pain me most is when I put my work shoes on.
Free the toes!
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