Trashy taffy

Ginnie was hopping mad this morning. She’d visited Facebook and a friend posted a picture of their kid with an sexualized t-shirt. Grrr, who’d do this? What would it be like if you flipped the genders?

My argument: it’s all culture. It blinds you and binds you. We’re frogs simmering in our subcultures. I didn’t think the parents were even thinking about the message of that shirt.

To her: “This isn’t crazy at all. Have you ever visited /r/trashy? But I don’t have to tell you about that.

An awkward silence stretched out like taffy.

I wish I had a snappy comeback, but like the taffy I just slumped there.

Later on, we’re driving back to Virginia to see friends. Ginnie’s telling stories. Like that time her dad (an eager dumpster diver) had discovered a bag of clothes on the side of the highway. Just sitting there! He brought them home to us. I never wore them but Ginnie was enamored with one of the pair of pants she found. They were the most comfortable things when she was pregnant with Monkey.

Sometimes you just have to wait for that taffy to snap back.

More Tinkering

We continue to have a great time with our monthly tinker crates.

Yessa led the charge on electricity recently.

Multi-colored LEDs

Multi-colored LEDs

Preparing the lantern

Preparing the lantern

A beautiful flower

A beautiful flower

And she and The Buster had a lot of fun with the trebuchet. Even Buds had to get in on the action.

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The ping pong ball they were flinging got some great distance.

Science and laughter…a great combo.

I Thought You Said…

The children and I were visiting this evening, and I told them that Buds and I have two children’s story titles that we thought of years ago. I’ve started writing the stories, but they are waiting for time and effort to bring them to life.

The names of one of the books is The Day There Was No Breakfast.

After I shared the name, The Day There Was No Breakfast, Yessa said, “I’ll bet Daddy came up with that one.”

“I’m not sure,” I said, “He might have, but why do you think that?”

“Because of the title,” she replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The Data That Had No Breakfast!” she said, in a “duh” sort of voice.

This brought me to memories of speaking at my Aunt Sheila’s church where before she introduced me she led the crowd of women into prayer by announcing, “And now, lesbian prayer.”

It was a Methodist Church, so this was not inconceivable, but I was still surprised and made a mental note to ask her about it later.

“Did you really say, ‘And now lesbian prayer.’?” I asked her at dinner.

“WHAT?!” She was truly stumped.

I explained when I heard her say this, and the light went on in her eyes.

“And now let us be in prayer.”

Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.

Those “I thought you saids” are awesome!

Summer Nights

The Botanical Garden near us has Thursday night “Family Nights,” which are included in our membership.

I love going to these summer concerts. The sun is setting, Ben & Jerry are always there, there’s a different band or act each time, and it’s fun to wander around in the beautiful surroundings, enjoy the people, the sounds, and each other.

The sun and these sunshines.

The sun and these sunshines.

I think my camera lens was dirty, but I love this shot.

I think my camera lens was dirty, but I love this shot.

They walked all over the place.

They walked all over the place.

People watching

People watching

They told each other stories and shared ideas the entire time!

They told each other stories and shared ideas the entire time!

The crowd of us.

The crowd of us.

Great Minds

Guest post essentially written by Gina.

We were texting last night, lamenting our inability to find an opportunity for our two families to get time together before the jaunt to Italy. Not only do we love time together, but Gina is one of those friends that lets me indulge in my adoration of projects and getting things done. She always has a list of things I can work on.

Laughter ensued after this exchange last night when we discussed a trip she and the girls were taking:

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Friends who know you well and like you despite that…priceless.

Attached at the brain.

Attached at the brain.

Bee Farmer

A realization has been reached this week.

I’m not actually a gardener.

I wanted to be a gardener. I wanted to bring in buckets of produce like Buddie’s Mom does; Can tomatoes for the darkness of winter, or sit and visit with my granola friends in skirts and keen sandals while I snap a colander of green beans.

This isn’t going to happen.

What I love is to wander out and look at the flowers and herbs. The joy of seeing the bees buzzing around and the butterflies fluttering…therein lies my delight.

I went out to cut some basil for a meal, and when I moved the huge herb plant that is overshadowing one of the basil plants, I got stung by a bee I inadvertently grabbed. All I could do was smile because there were so many bees that I disturbed one I hadn’t even noticed.

How many bees can you spot in this picture?

How many bees can you spot in this picture?

I never think of cutting flowers to bring in the house. That might disrupt a bee or butterfly that needs the nectar. We have some goldfinches who have made their nest somewhere around the house and we spot them in the front garden or in the herb garden by the bird feeder. Yessa has named them “Goldie” and “Bob.”

When you come to visit in the spring and summer, you’ll be able to have fresh herbs in your meal, and you can wander out front and pick a salad of cherry tomatoes.

And in the winter you can look at the dead stalks that I can’t bring myself to cut in case there’s some small critter that wants to make a winter home in them.

Call me a bee farmer or a butterfly gardener and I think we’ll have it just about right.

The herb garden next to the deck.

The herb garden next to the deck.

The front bee/butterfly  habitat.

The front bee/butterfly habitat.

Beauty in a flower...this color has to make you smile.

Beauty in a flower…this color has to make you smile.

Buster’s a Quotician

I was scanning Facebook before dinner and came across Sir Todd’s post under “Observation Paper.”

It took my mind a minute to understand.

At first I thought, “I didn’t know that Buster was quoting a famous person when he said that.”

Oh, wait…

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Buster and I are hoping Todd will produce posters.

Thanks, Todd. You made his day!

Memory Jog

With our anniversary just past, I’ve been thinking a lot about our early days together.

We’d been dating not even two weeks and Buds was sitting in the living room of the apartment Ragsbottom and I shared.

“Hey, Ginnie,” said Ragsbottom. “I can’t go home with you this weekend.” Brief pause…”Buds, why don’t you go with her?”

Ah, Ragsbottom, in her sweet, kind, wonderful, interfering way, she was pushing us into new territory.

A time when Rags did go home with me.

A time when Rags did go home with me.

I gulped and looked at him.

“Do you have plans? Would you like to go home with me?”

He got that big, loopy grin on his face, “Sure!”

So, home we traveled after being together for two weeks for him to meet my parents.

Entering Iowa for the first time ever.

Entering Iowa for the first time ever.

When I first met him.

When I first met him.

How we looked before we left that first weekend.

How we looked before we left that first weekend.

The funny part of the memory, I had to introduce him to my family and friends as just, “Buds” because I couldn’t pronounce his last name yet.