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Junk Food
No, my dear readers, your eyes are not deceiving you: this is truly a brand-spanking new post on Frantically Simple! Contrary to what you may have suspected, I am not a) in a coma, b) touring with the circus or c) recuperating from a terrible accident in which has rendered all ten of my fingers useless for typing. I’ve just been juggling too many balls to keep the old blog updated.
Remember these:
They weren’t really for me – although a few of the boxes managed to find their way to my thighs cupboard. I am in charge of cookie sales for Newt’s troop. The last month I have been literally up to my ears in cookie sales. Thankfully, this is the last weekend. Many of our unsold boxes will be sent to soldiers serving overseas. Anyone want to sponsor a box for $4? Leave a comment or email me and I’ll give you instructions on paying via paypal.
One day, while driving to pick up even more cookies, Newt screamed at me to STOP THE CAR! Have you ever had your child do that? I almost pooped my pants. What was wrong with my little lovely? She had seen the great white whale this:
Do you find it odd that most people go their whole lives without ever encountering the WeinerMobile, yet we have seen it twice by accident? I guess we’re just awesome like that.
Newt has added Hotdogger to her career goals.
And can you blame her?
She has quite extensive plans including an education at Oregon State and dual triple quadruple careers in physics, zoology, linguistics (for the military), and hotdogging. When she likes something, she loves it. Can you tell?
It’s been so long since I’ve blogged that I can’t quite remember how to end. So I think I will just stop typing.
Now.
Wait – I almost forgot! I’ve got a great review coming up next week. Be sure to watch for it.
Okay, now.
A Recent Afternoon’s Conversation in the Car
Newt: [pensively] Do you ever think it’s weird that strangers read your blog?
Me: I used to, but I don’t anymore.
Newt: But why would they care about our family?
Me: I don’t know. I guess they read it because they think I’m a good writer.
Newt: [derisive laughter]
Me: [indignantly] Did you laugh? [turning to look] Why are you laughing? You’re mean!
Newt: [laughs more and spews Starbucks kids hot cocoa out her nose - then laughs harder]
Me: I am so going to blog about this.
Newt: Touche.
Rootin’ Tootin’ Valentine
The best most memorable Valentine I ever got was from Billy Sucow in the second grade. It looked something like this:
And said “Cowgirl, you’re terrific!”
Being the daughter of a “real cowboy”, I remember feeling so impressed. After all, how was Billy to know I was half-cowgirl?
What Valentines do you remember?
Public Service Annoucement
The American Red Cross recommends a 72-hour supply of nonperishable food for each family member. By having a supply of food, you can reduce the stress of locating food during a disaster.
Got mine:
And it’s portable:
Handmade by Heidi (except for the ones made by someone more talented)
#1. Dino-mite!
Thrift store jar + potting soil + moss from my yard + plastic dino held in place with a couple of staples = my own tiny Jurassic Park
Roar!
#2. I must embroider these:
But on what? Ideas, please.
Found here
#3. Newt (GW) is getting one of these in the mail for Valentine’s Day.
I can’t wait to see it (with the included magnifying glass, of course).
Order here
Warning
A few years ago, while driving through the Maryland countryside, I committed vehicular manslaughter rodentslaughter. Yes, I accidentally ran over a baby groundhog. As I felt the thump of its tiny body being crushed beneath the wheels of my SUV, I felt sorrow – grief even, at this senseless loss of life. A shadow was cast upon my heart.
This morning, when Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, my shadow was lifted. No more will I mourn the loss of that overgrown rat. And to all groundhogs everywhere, but most especially to Phil, I say: watch out when crossing the road.
Phil’s official forecast as read February 2nd, 2009 at sunrise at Gobbler’s Knob:
Hear Ye Hear Ye Hear Ye
On Gobbler’s Knob on this glorious Groundhog Day, February 2nd, 2010, Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Prognosticator of all Prognosticators awoke to the call of President Bill Deeley and greeted his handlers, John Griffiths and Ben Hughes.
After casting a joyful eye towards thousands of his faithful followers, Phil proclaimed, “If you want to know next, you must read my text. As the sky shines bright above me, my shadow I see beside me. So six more weeks of winter it will be.”
P.S. from Newt: Boo! I wish Phil was blind!
Fresh
That last post is way past its expiration date and is beginning to smell. I am feeling the need to replace it with something fresh, but I like to use photos (or at least drawings) in my posts and I don’t have any.
Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, I do have some newish photos, but they are still on my camera and I don’t feel like uploading them right now. So there.
Just for fun, I will be posting some old photos that have absolutely nothing to do with what I am talking about. But, since I am not talking about anything of importance or even general interest, feel free to use them to make up your own story.
First topic up for discussion: School Uniforms
What’s that you say? Homeschools don’t have school uniforms? Au contraire mon frere… if you believe that, you haven’t been around our studio table lately. Or at all, really. Because thinking back, the whole I-only-wear-one-thing-but-in-different-colors started long, long ago. Remember this?
Anyway, a post-Christmas trip the the Hanna Anderson outlet, followed by a post-post-Christmas trip has yielded my girl a total of six dresses. Four are long sleeved, two are short. Five are striped and one has polka dots. Wearing anything else is out of the question – that would be a violation of the dress code.
Nicknames
GW stands for Girl Wonder, which is not my daughter’s real name. My husband and I have chosen to keep her true identity a secret, lest some evil villain whisk her away to his volcanic lair and try to feed her to a tank of genetically altered goldfish. Which would be bad.
When I started this blog, I called her Abby, which is not her real name either. After awhile, I started to slip up and call her Abby in real life. That was weird so she became Girl Wonder. And then I shortened it to GW because I am lazy.
Well, I am most consistent at being inconsistent, so let’s change it up again, shall we? Henceforth and forever, or until I get bored of it, GW shall be known herein by a name of her own choosing: Newt.
Um, no.
Try this:
I, of course, will remain Heidi because goldfish, genetically altered or no, do not concern me.
The Weather
We have had no real snow to speak of this year. Perhaps, Oregon is repenting of last year’s uncharacteristic crankiness. I can’t say that I mind… I have just come through some of the most stressful months I can remember. We are all fine now, but the unblogable ugliness was just. so. hard. to deal with for awhile. I have come to refer to November and December as my “winter of discontent”. So now I say: bring on the spring! Yesterday I bought some primroses for a container on my front walk. They look so bright and cheery; I daresay it may be several weeks before I begin neglecting them and they die.
Survival Skills Yesterday the artist formerly known as GW Newt sported a jauntily perched coon-skin hat all day long. “Can a coon-skin hat really be jauntily perched?” you ask. Why yes, of course.
There was much discussion about whether the tail should hang down the back or over the side. Apparently, Newt preferred the look of tail-in-back, but felt tail-on-the-side to be more comfortable. The tail happily wagged back and forth through morning scripture reading, a spelling test, composer and artist study, science, and history and shopping for new jeans. For me.
Newt and her coon-skin cap practiced survival skills at Ross Dress for Less (like Marshalls, Dillions, or TJ Maxx for the uninitiated). Her crafty resourcefulness kept us both alive and laughing through the perils of dingy dressing rooms, smelly public restrooms, and a pile of 15 pairs of rejected jeans. In the end, we made it back to civilization (and a Jamba Juice) with our kill: two great pairs of jeans, a cute skirt, and some sassy new shoes. All for me. For less.
I hope they don’t violate the dress-code…
Heidi Will Absolutely, Positively NEVER (Do you hear me? I mean it!) Have a Facebook
I have never been quiet about my aversion to all things Facebook.
I don’t want a Facebook, won’t have a Facebook, because:
- I’ve heard about the farm game.
- I don’t care which Twilight character I am most like.
- I’m not interested in what kind of sandwich you just ate, nor do I believe that you really want to read that about me. (Unless you write it in a blog post, with the recipe. Then I’m all yours.)
- Someone might upload embarrassing photos of me, like these:
- I already spend too much time on my laptop. I am too busy volunteering at homeless shelters.
- If the people in my past were that important to me, they wouldn’t be in my past.
Wait, back up. What was that last one?
- If the people in my past were that important to me, they wouldn’t be in my past.
That used to be true. But recently I find myself losing touch with a couple of long-distance friends. I spend my days homeschooling, and my evenings with my husband. Long phone calls are becoming a rarity. And now that Oregon has passed a Don’t Talk and Drive law, even brief catch-ups in the car are a thing of the past.
It was the Christmas letters that did it. As I read, I realized that I like keeping up with what my friends were doing. I don’t want our only contact to be reduced to once a year.
Is Facebook the best solution? Probably not. The best solution would be to make real time for the people that I care about. But, honestly, no matter how good my intentions, that is just not likely to happen right now. My time is being spent on my laptop family.
So…
[deep breath]
I created a Facebook page.
But I will absolutely, positively NEVER (Do you hear me? I mean it!) Twitter.
Goodbye, 2009
2009 was a hard year.
2009 was a good year.
We have no choice but to take the bad with the good, but we can choose what to remember.
I wonder what surprises 2010 will hold?
Merry Christmas
Earlier this month, GW and I read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. If you haven’t read it, please do so immediately.
When GW got the part of an angel in our church pageant, I almost expected her to say “Hey! Unto you a child is born!” No such luck. I will admit that this was better, though.
Merry Christmas!
PS: I sewed that little white skirt for her over the summer. Thank goodness it still fit.
Once upon a time there was a Heidi…
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