A long time ago, I realized I couldn’t really boss my kids around. Oh sure, I could, but I’d be annihilating their spirits in the process. I’m not that kind of mom. There are probably a lot of parents that do a great job being the boss all the time (I doubt it), and it’s good for the three of us to remember that I am the boss. But, there is a lot of truth in being selective about which battles to pick.
THAT is why I love this blog.
I can boss it around. I can ignore it. I can feed it or not. I can tell it how to look, and what to wear and what to say. And I can tell it when to shut up. I can tell it when it’s getting too big for it’s britches. I can comfort it when it needs to be comforted. And I can ignore it when it gets whiny.
Ultimately, I am the boss of where this blog goes. Cool. Scary. Fun.
So far my battles have been with the tech aspects… css, downloading files (where do they go?), and all the behind the scenes stuff. Perhaps I could/should have been more selective in what I’ve written, but then blogs are like TVs. The reader holds the remote. (Is that the faint sound of clicking I hear? The sound of someone moving on to another site?) Continue reading →
A good friend is a connection to life —
Sunday is a great day to pound garlic. I probably pound garlic at least three days a week, but Sunday seems to be all about pounding garlic. I’m not rushing to put dinner on the table; I have the time to create in the kitchen, and I’ve got the time to vent and visualize while I cook.
a dream… Every so often, one of us would lose grip on our side of the table, and the legs would scrape against the sidewalk. The scraping sound seemed to echo in this warm, starlit night. It was close to midnight, and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze. I found myself wishing for a wind that would muffle the sounds of our shuffling and scraping. The three of us were carrying a large picnic table from house to house, sneaking into garages, trying to find a can of paint.
Hola Friends,
Another one for the “If All Else Fails” File. Make cookies and have the girls over. I had to follow the last downer of a post with something happier. Will and I scooped the chocolate chip cookie dough, and Jen scooped teensy tiny cookies for Barbie and Sophie. She baked them off in the toaster oven and invited me and Will to a party. That’s a miniature bowl of frosting next to the plate of cookies.
“And that is another great example of how there are so many different ways to make a living.” My grandfather used to say that. He’d had his share of different careers – mechanic, draftsman, lumber yard manager and more that I can’t remember. We’d be playing Yahtzee, visiting about someone we both knew, and he’d marvel at how the world was changing and people were finding new and interesting ways to make a living.
