A Full Quiver: February 2012

Okay, maybe it's not still January, but it's barely February! And I started WRITING this in January. So see, SO not a slacker ...) :)

Random updates and thoughts for your perusal. Or avoidance. Whichever.

- With our most recent move I am officially back to my first name. Do I regret the experiment? No! It was a lot of fun and I'm glad I had the guts to do it. Was it confusing and strange and even after a year I was still wondering why people were calling me by a strange name? Yes! But it's also fun that a handful of people will always call me by my middle name.

- We had a lovely Christmas, and thanks to my in-laws an even lovelier 15th anniversary. My hubby and I abandoned all of our little people and ran away to the coast of Maine for three days. It was nice to realize that we still really like hanging out with each other, and it ended way too soon. I contentedly walked the cliff walk with him and watched him take audio and video recordings of the waves, while he happily (mostly) wandered through outlets with me and suffered through countless kitchen supply stores. (What is it about those stores that I love so much? They are among my favorites to peruse.)

- I love the BBC and have decided I need to move to England.

- I. still. like. my. hair. I know! Amazing. Yes, I still get minor pangs of jealousy when I see silky straight manes, but people - my HAIR DID NOT DO THAT. Ever. Okay, maybe not ever - it did that twice after I had been to a hair stylist, but I have neither the time, products, nor dexterity to recreate that silky smoothness. And I like my curls. (Of course, if you ever comment on my hair in any way positive, I will love you forever. Just FYI.) AND ... finally there is a TV show that features a curly headed actress! Well, there was. It was cancelled. But did I watch it despite the poor acting just because of her curls? Yes. Yes I did. (Okay, I also like cats.)

- My four year old sounds like a Kid History episode. I love his little gravelly voice saying the most preposterous things. I get giddy every time he says the word "adorable". The other day, in an effort to avoid soup for dinner, he told me "Jesus made me and said 'He does not like soup, like me!'" Who knew soup avoidance was hard wired? And who knew He dislikes soup! Good to know, people. Good to know.

- I like YA books. I like paranormal books. Therefore (geometry, people!) I like YA paranormal books. (Along with many, many other kinds of books, but I digress.) But I have to admit I am a little sick of the whole cute-girl-meets-strange-mysterious-of-course-gorgeous-guy-and-falls-instantly-in-love. Poor, deluded teens. You don't even KNOW each other! Get over it! I have a feeling this makes me old ...

- By default I am in charge of our little non-human critters (I guess I'm also in charge of our little human critters too ... but not the point.) Last Monday I fed Roger (our kind-of-grows-on-you-painted-turtle) by putting him in his feeding bucket (turtles are MESSY eaters and my life is easier when he eats outside of the water he lives in) and left him for a bit (totally normal). I checked on him after a few minutes and he was DEAD. Full on, shell-belly up, bottom of the bucket, not moving. I KILLED THE TURTLE! I am wicked squeamish when it comes to dead pets (I can handle fish and that's about it), so of course I called my hubby and he said he would take care of it when he got home. Hooray for non-squeamish-except-when-it-comes-to-vomit hubbies. I peeked on what-used-to-be-Roger a two more times and he was still lifeless and icky. So hubby comes home, we eat dinner, we break the teary news to our children, and we decide we will bury him for FHE (I know, wicked exciting. We are ALL about wholesome recreational activities). Then I hear my hubby from the mudroom, which I have avoided because of the dead turtle. "Um, honey - Roger's fine ..." Yep. NOT a dead turtle, it turns out. Hmm, should we change his name to Lazarus? Or Possum?

- All five of my little human critters, from age 4 to 14, love to sleep in the basement together on Friday nights. I. LOVE. THIS. I know they mostly do it because they can watch TV/Play Wii early on Saturday without us knowing, but I like to pretend it is also because, despite the quarrels and sibling choas, deep down (deep, deep down sometimes) they still like each other.