Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Where your path takes you
We're still drying out from last week's flood. That picture above is/was my dining room. Somewhere in there a leftover Christmas poinsettia is being attacked by mold spores dragged up from our basement.
Just when I thought my house couldn’t possibly get more cluttered, my father stopped by. He lives in Mulletville Lite a few towns over, and his basement flooded too. While wading through the relics in his basement, he found some crap from my childhood—and decided to reunite me with it.
Some of the things are in good shape. Like this Fisher Price Play Family A Frame House, circa 1974.
Love A frames.
And the 1970 Fisher Price Parking Ramp Service center, now deemed vintage.
Junior's been having a blast playing with the legless family. They've been driving all over town. For them, life was new and exciting all over again.
Then, the inevitable happened. Junior inched them closer to the tracks. No! Not the tracks.
And announced that they were going to the Island of Sodor.
I can only imagine their disappointment. Thirty years in a basement only to end up there? Or maybe I'm projecting. Onto little plastic people with no discernible limbs or genitals.
Don't judge me. It's been a long month.
Our young neighbors Bob and Claire are wonderful —which is a fricken relief because we basically share a yard. A flat, treeless yard. When ...
Toddlers mispronounce words. It's just what they do, and it's what makes the toddler years so darn cute. "Lello" for &...
I’m finally back from the David Gray concert in New York City. Yes, that was Saturday night and today is Tuesday, but I fell so in love with...
At least I can admit that I'm emotionally immature, juvenile and unsupportive. Subtitle: Chuck could have done betterTry as I might, I cannot stop fantasizing about Chuck being creamed by a Mack truck (I know, poor Chuck, you must think I am the wife from...