I am not sure why we call it a "dining table." It implies limited function, and on any given day, our dining table is definitely not limited in function. The class rat is sitting there now, so is the power drill and all of Maria's Valentines from her classmates.
The Gathering Table. Nice.
Where we play and work. Where our work is play. Where we eat and make.
Anyway.
What is he doing?
Alex asked, "May I go to the fancy ball?
And since I know Alex, I thought it best to ask for a little clarification.
And he took me to see Isaac's email with all the pertinent fancy ball details.
The Sky Consortium, a school club founded for the benefit of Steampunk and Airship enthusiasts, is having a dinner, dance and movie screening. (Rumors of this event have been going around for some time and I was on the verge of offering our backyard, but apparently they do better without my generosity: The fancy ball is at a country club. ahem.)
This will be Alex's first "fancy ball," or dance, or friends from school gathering for purely social after-school interaction with formal attire suggested. Which is why he immediately scrambled to find his goggles, magnification attachments, a led light and other mods. He wants to be appropriately fancily attired. And his every day goggles were not sufficient, I guess.
Drill.
Wire.
A willingness to take things apart, and modify common household items... it's pretty typical stuff at our gathering table.
Didn't you reach in to the tool chest when you were getting ready for your first fancy ball? I thought so.
ooh. Fancy.
There wasn't really any question about letting him go. Those Sky Consortium members are great. Really, the only bummer is that I know better than to ask if I can come too. Not cool. But do you know what is cool? They wouldn't mind, not so much. They have a mature perspective, a broader view of the world, which is what makes them such a cool bunch to have around. At least I get to hang out with Robotics, an overlapping school club.
Ah. Very nice with the green led he affixed to the goggles. I don't know if he needs a dinner jacket, or whether we should shine his shoes. I do know that time passes... Oh dear... overwhelming sentimentality and emotional mom sensations. This is a good life.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Kiss and Make-Up
Yesterday, when I needed five do-overs to produce one Valentine, I was a bit stressy. I am in awe of the scrap booking sect of our universe. What they do with paper and glue, glitter and graphics... I am not worthy. I thought playing with hearts and participating in Bitter Betty's Valentine Swap would be good, clean fun. But somehow, I managed to make a complicated mess of it.
Corporal cuddling and humor got me back on track. And in spite of my gluey fingerprints all over everything, I did have fun making Valentine cards after all.
And who mentioned glitter glue? I was trying go all Martha, like the big kids do, but no more. I broke out these glitter glue tubes for Maria and discovered there is an economical, user friendly, sparkly world out there. I still have a long way to go in the greeting card department, but glitter-glue saved my crafty caboose.
I also got super amused and inspired by Erin and her two daughters, who were inspired by this creative woman. I find no end of good ideas on the www, but when I have the supplies on hand (and a willingness to pop over to Trader Joe's for dye-free lollipops)... it's golden. Easy, funny, fun. Fun. Even with my lethargic-temperamental printer, I was able to crank out just enough prints for both Max and Maria to make these:
It's Max. And he's handing out giant lollipops.
Camera. A smile. Printer. Utility knife. Trader Joe's. All the tools you need. Max and Maria added their signatures. I did the exacto-cuts.
Some glitter hearts would look really cute on these.
Corporal cuddling and humor got me back on track. And in spite of my gluey fingerprints all over everything, I did have fun making Valentine cards after all.
And who mentioned glitter glue? I was trying go all Martha, like the big kids do, but no more. I broke out these glitter glue tubes for Maria and discovered there is an economical, user friendly, sparkly world out there. I still have a long way to go in the greeting card department, but glitter-glue saved my crafty caboose.
I also got super amused and inspired by Erin and her two daughters, who were inspired by this creative woman. I find no end of good ideas on the www, but when I have the supplies on hand (and a willingness to pop over to Trader Joe's for dye-free lollipops)... it's golden. Easy, funny, fun. Fun. Even with my lethargic-temperamental printer, I was able to crank out just enough prints for both Max and Maria to make these:
It's Max. And he's handing out giant lollipops.
Camera. A smile. Printer. Utility knife. Trader Joe's. All the tools you need. Max and Maria added their signatures. I did the exacto-cuts.
Some glitter hearts would look really cute on these.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
We Can't Even Be Friends
Glitter does not love me any more. Glue and paper laugh in my face.
The sparkle is still there, but I can't make anything work.
We are getting a divorce.
Carried Away
We can hear them lifting. They fire up, pulsing burners.
Silence, almost. Color and inflated mass moving the invisible world of oxygen and nitrogen, moving clouds, and it is audible.
Then the burner rips the almost silence.
The basket rises, scrapes the roof and treetops, almost. Touches my daydream daze.
My thoughts, something, gets carried away.
We can hear them lifting. They fire up, pulsing burners.
Silence, almost. Color and inflated mass moving the invisible world of oxygen and nitrogen, moving clouds, and it is audible.
Then the burner rips the almost silence.
The basket rises, scrapes the roof and treetops, almost. Touches my daydream daze.
My thoughts, something, gets carried away.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
I Wore It :: Earring Edition
This is a gratitude post, more than a fashion-faux pas episode. My mother read my post about how I look most mornings, what I am not doing to make myself presentable, and naturally she was shocked in to action by one particular tragedy. I know she loves me, but when she sees that I am going without earrings, I think it must stun and devastate her.
She ponders the forces in the universe and asks, "Why? How can my own flesh and blood, my daughter, greet the world without earrings? Why does she disrespect the lessons I have taught her? Where is her dignity?" Then she probably suspects that I am not taking vitamins, that I leave the house with wet hair, that I keep shabby panties.
And she's right. How does she know these things?
And so, not for the first time, a package arrives and it is full of her wisdom and love, her concern, and her stern warning to get my act together. She sent earrings. Lots of them.
And in honor of her beautiful art, I bought two tubes of lipstick. I brushed my hair too. She didn't run to the bedazzle kiosk at the mall. She makes these earrings. She makes many delectable jewelry pieces. With the exception of my engagement ring and wedding band, I think all of my jewelry comes from her studio, which reflects how much I like what she makes and especially how generous she is. Lucky me.
Self portraits always look like self portraits.
I like this lipstick shade :: Blushing Berry-L'Oréal.
I hope they are a decent company and don't use enslaved chickens to make this stuff.
If a person is thinking of coloring their hair, should they consider a color that complements their lipstick?
This is what I wore to pull weeds for 5 hours. Maria and I found about 42 big earthworms. We need about 900 more for our worm farm.
Thank you Mommy. I am wearing the purple ones today, and I took some vitamins this week. I also got help pruning all those roses. Yesterday I planted a third apple tree, so now we have three apples varieties, a plumcot, peach, Santa Rosa Plum, pomegranate and lots of grape vines planted. I still need to dig holes for the blackberries. Thank you for care packages and jewels, for loving me and calling me, for knowing me. I love you.
This is a gratitude post, more than a fashion-faux pas episode. My mother read my post about how I look most mornings, what I am not doing to make myself presentable, and naturally she was shocked in to action by one particular tragedy. I know she loves me, but when she sees that I am going without earrings, I think it must stun and devastate her.
She ponders the forces in the universe and asks, "Why? How can my own flesh and blood, my daughter, greet the world without earrings? Why does she disrespect the lessons I have taught her? Where is her dignity?" Then she probably suspects that I am not taking vitamins, that I leave the house with wet hair, that I keep shabby panties.
And she's right. How does she know these things?
And so, not for the first time, a package arrives and it is full of her wisdom and love, her concern, and her stern warning to get my act together. She sent earrings. Lots of them.
And in honor of her beautiful art, I bought two tubes of lipstick. I brushed my hair too. She didn't run to the bedazzle kiosk at the mall. She makes these earrings. She makes many delectable jewelry pieces. With the exception of my engagement ring and wedding band, I think all of my jewelry comes from her studio, which reflects how much I like what she makes and especially how generous she is. Lucky me.
Self portraits always look like self portraits.
I like this lipstick shade :: Blushing Berry-L'Oréal.
I hope they are a decent company and don't use enslaved chickens to make this stuff.
If a person is thinking of coloring their hair, should they consider a color that complements their lipstick?
This is what I wore to pull weeds for 5 hours. Maria and I found about 42 big earthworms. We need about 900 more for our worm farm.
Thank you Mommy. I am wearing the purple ones today, and I took some vitamins this week. I also got help pruning all those roses. Yesterday I planted a third apple tree, so now we have three apples varieties, a plumcot, peach, Santa Rosa Plum, pomegranate and lots of grape vines planted. I still need to dig holes for the blackberries. Thank you for care packages and jewels, for loving me and calling me, for knowing me. I love you.
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