Wednesday, April 8, 2009
once again with feeling, leisl!
Dr. Crog tells me that if I really want to collect readers like so many Pogs, I need to talk about relevant topics. Start debates, make social and political commentary, ask incisive questions.
He's Dr. Crog, so he's probably right.
But i'm me, so i'm going to keep doing what i'm doing, because that appears to be a hallmark of my character. Not outright rebellion. Just keepin' on with my own agenda to amuse myself instead of taking good advice.
So I thought I would show you a few of my favorite things, hence the "raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, etc.", on which i'm dreamily meditating above.
First of all, here is a new necklace that I just received from Etsy seller resolutetwig. It was a custom job combining two of her different designs, and I just love it. It goes with everything, except my weedwhacker necklace.
Next in the theme of trees and jewelry are my decorative jewelry branches. I suspect that Dr. Crog finds them hideous and feels that he is humoring me by tolerating their continued existence. Which makes me feel like Dharma from Dharma and Greg, and like maybe I should stand on the table more often and wear headbands. But I love seeing all my jewelry laid out in the open instead of bottled up in my hideous jewelry box.
It's jewelry. It needs air.
Hanging on one of the branches is this eclectic necklace of birth beads, all collected with love by some mamas I met on mothering.com back in 2005. We all have babies born around August 2006, and we built our own little forum so that we could keep trading baby pictures and swapping toddler stories and sharing very dangerous links to cute things. I had this necklace with me throughout my birth with t.rex, and it reminded me of their love and support, and how all mamas throughout the ages are tied together by screaming, gore, afterbirth, and spit-up.
And then, staying in my bedroom, we have one of my favorite paintings. Dr. Crog named it "Goodnight, Horses". I painted it especially for our bedroom to tie in the dark wood, beige walls, and goldy-tanny-coppery tones in the bedspread that we have used approximately twice in two years because Dr. Crog uses 7 blankets in August and we're usually cosleeping with a very small person.
But we still love the painting.
And moving into our bathroom, we have The Bamboo. Thor himself must have blessed this plant, because it's actually alive and thriving under my care. I'm great with animals of any sorts, but I am anathema to plants. So this bamboo must actually be an animal. Like, a chinchilla or something.
Next we head downstairs, where you can see this amazing rooster plate created by a fabulously crazy old dude named Ed Gilliam. Ed is in his 70's, and i've worked with him since I was 14. He has a marvelous accent that reminds me of the tall, creepy guy from Pet Sematary, but more grandfatherly and less the soil of a man's heart is stonier, Louis. Ed creates cool folk art, including lots of naked people and dead cats in the rain. He's an inspiration to me, and I hope that when i'm 70, i'm as bizarrely "out there" and talented as Ed.
Again, not Dr. Crog's taste. Now, if it were made of hamburgers, we could talk.
Lastly for tonight, because the camera is out of batteries and I am out of batteries and the baby is full of beans and fire ants, we have my cloth diapers. I adore my cloth diapers. I have some fancy BumGenius 3.0 one-size diapers, a Happy Heinies one-size, and a collection of prefolds and covers by Thirsties, Swaddlebees, and Imse Vimse. And I need more medium covers, because homeboy's a moose, but that means I need to sell more on Etsy to make more Paypal funny money.
Why do I love a pile of diapers? Because I despise the smell of disposables. Because they're adorable on his chunky bum. Because when I run out of disposables, I don't have to sacrifice kitchen towels. Because my dear friends threw me a diaper shower, and they all arrived new and shiny and soft, and they make my heart wink to see them all piled up like so much urine-soakable love. And because every time I use one, I hear a quarter click into an imaginary, metaphysical piggy bank.
So there are a few of my favorite things. As for the rest of the song, I like schnitzel but not doorbells. I will take a dozen cream colored ponies, please. And I've never seen a brown paper package tied up with string, but I'm pretty sure I would enjoy that, too.