Snips And Snails, Sometimes Sweet

Heart Pops

Each morning I get up and pour myself a cup of coffee and look forward to sitting quietly and alone on the sofa for thirty minutes before the sun brightens the sky and unleashes a tsunami of crazy on the House of Antique. One recent morning as I sat on the sofa in the dim glow of the light of the day gathering my thoughts and my wits, I heard the soft squishy footfall of footsie pajamas on the tile. I looked up to see a teddy bear of a little boy with hair spiking out…

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Antique Daddy

Four Score and Seven Pounds Ago

When Antique Daddy and I married, we hired a free-lance wedding photographer. Her deal was that she would take all the pictures for a fee and then turn over the negatives. In the intoxicating afterglow of the wedding, I spent a fortune having pictures printed which I subsequently stuck in a box and haven’t looked at since. Wedding fever. It’s responsible for pens made of large white feathers and keeping the ribbon and tulle industry afloat. In the intervening eight years, digital technology has come of age. And so when I ran across the box of…

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Mildly Amusing

Pirates Need Groceries Too

Earlier this week, Sean and I were strolling into the grocery store from the parking lot when a pick up truck slowly passed us. We stopped and stood back and allowed the truck to turn in front of us into a parking space and come to a complete stop before we continued towards the store. Driving the truck, with the window rolled down, was a rough looking, weather worn construction worker kind of guy. He was wearing a red bandana do rag, had tattoos up and down his arms and wore a small silver hoop earring.…

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Always Real, Antique Crazy, Mildly Amusing, Reruns and Leftovers

Laundry Interrupted Again

(beeeeep!) Sean and I are busy playing in the sandbox and can’t get to the computer. Please leave a message at the end of this recycled post and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. (beeeeep!) In my washing machine right now, there is a load of musty-smelling bath towels that need to be washed. Again. For the third time in a row. You would think that a modern woman like me with the modern conveniences of a washer and a dryer in her home could manage to get a load of laundry…

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Mildly Amusing, Modern Medicine, Southern Living

Dr. Texan

When our health insurance changed a while back, one of the things I was required to do was select a General Practitioner. Prior to that, I never saw a GP. I have so many quirky medical issues that I employ an army of specialists and I have no need of a GP. I took a lot of time selecting my GP. I thumbed through the insurance directory and narrowed down the list to doctors in my geographic area that claimed to speak English as their primary language. From the long list of two, I settled upon…

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Always Real, Parenting Gone Awry

If God Didn’t Want Me To Be A Whiney Bed Slug, He Would Have Given Me Seven More Children

The other night, Antique Daddy took Sean off to read books and put him to bed while I went off to prostrate myself face down on my bed like a priest in ordination. Sometimes after the end of a day with a three-year-old, I feel like I’ve been riding the Kamakazi on the midway at the fair and all I want to do is lie motionless and alone upon my bed. As I lay on my bed encouraging and willing the scant remaining energy in my body towards my thumb that was working the remote, I…

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Antique Daddy, Faith

The Partnership of Marriage

Last night, a long-time friend dropped by the house for a visit. His wife had recently decided to end their marriage of 20-some years. He was hanging in there, but as we chatted with him, heartache just seemed to fill the room clear up to the ceiling. Photo Temporarily Unavailable And so today, I find myself thinking about the partnership of marriage. I think of my own parents who have been married for 52 years — all of their adult lives. I’m sure there have been times on their journey when either could have come up…

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Modern Medicine, Parenting Gone Awry

Wherein By Comparison You Feel Better About Your Own Parenting Skills

Two of the worst things that have ever happened to my child have happened when he was sitting on my kitchen counter and I was standing less than one foot away from him. Which is probably an indictment of my kitchen counter style of parenting. I wrote about The Goose Egg Incident recently. Apparently falling off the kitchen counter and whacking his head on the floor hasn’t impaired his memory as just yesterday when I hoisted him up onto the counter he advised, “You need to watch me better. I could fall off of here and…

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Mildly Amusing, Outsmarted, Use Your Words

Scorpion Bits

“Mommy I’m pretending this scorpion bitted me,” Sean says from the back seat. I look in my rear view mirror to see him stretch a sticky rubbery scorpion the length of his reach. “No, Sean,” I correct him, “I’m pretending this scorpion BIT me — not bitted.” “This scorpion bitted you too?!” Oh never mind.

Always Real, Reruns and Leftovers, Sometimes Tart

Cherries – Or Life Is But A Dream

Cherries are in season.  Cherries as gorgeous and red and decadent and as seductive as any apple in Eden there ever was. I saw them at the store and brought them home. I rinsed them under the cool water of the tap and then without even bothering to turn on the lights, I sat down alone in my kitchen and ate them one by one.  It was May of 1991. I was 31-years-old. My first husband and I, along with another couple, were in Europe. When you decide to take a two-week car trip with another…

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