Saturday, April 4, 2009
Remember back when Saturday Night Live was not only watchable, but GOOD?
Oh, those were the days. Chris Farley was alive and pole dancing with Patrick Swayze. We were all wearing Hypercolor shirts. Dr. Crog had braces. I was pudgy and miserable. But SNL was good, and Weekend Update was funny, and everybody wanted a Happy Fun Ball.
So here's a little Weekend Update for you, full of fascinating minutiae. And moss.
GOURMET Chia Herb Garden
Growing well! Except Parsley, which went moldy/fuzzy, so I scraped off the traitorous seeds and planted some Lavender, which is coming up nicely and will make lovely garnishes one day. You hear that, Parsley? WE DON'T NEED YOU!
Dr. Crog smirkingly suggests that they'll be dead in a week. I suggest Dr. Crog is a stupidhead.
Our Beautiful Birdhouse
(Which You Don't Know About, Because I've Never Mentioned It)
Actually has a nest in it! Yay! Lazy internet research suggests it could be some sort of chickadee, or possibly a titmouse. Whoever it is, he likes moss. A lot.
I've never owned a birdhouse before, and this one was given as a "We don't want this stupid gift, do you want it?" sort of thing. A free, handmade, beautiful, artisan birdhouse? I guess I can find room. Somewhere.
Like near the hand-painted pirate ship birdhouse we got for Christmas two years ago from our niece.
It's even got a little cannon. I ache to make a chipmunk walk that cute little plank.
If cute little eggs or the yawning, ugly maws of baby chicks show up, you'll be the first to know.
He's large, in charge, and screeching like a velociraptor on crack, as the previous post's video shows. Today he met his new best friend, the exersaucer, which is a little bit like a baby's version of Captain Kirk's chair on Star Trek, except slightly more colorful.
His shirt says "Mommy's Little", and then has a picture of a devil, but I told my grandmother it was a monster so that she wouldn't start throwing holy water at us.
Homegirl's in a difficult phase. She's very clumsy, very curious, and very emotional. Parenting her at 32 months is like running in a maze towards cheese that you can't find, and all the hedges keep moving around, and then the hedge lions are attacking you, and then you're holding Cedric Diggory's cold, dead body and crying.
I mean, it really keeps you on your toes.
So I instituted "quiet time" today, which meant she shrieked for 5 minutes and fell asleep with the covers over her head, and then woke up a much more reasonable child. We later had a picnic on the back porch. Here she is, multi-tasking with her laptop and discussing the finer points of broccoli.
I taught her how to stick bananas in your sunbutter sandwich today, because I believe in education.
Tomorrow is my grandfather's 80th birthday party, so that should be fun. For his birthday, he bought a new Infiniti that has thousands of dollars worth of luxury features he will never use. Like the fancy GPS. Which will probably never be turned on, because he never leaves his hometown and shuns technology. All his favorite foods will be served, including ribs, macaroni salad, potato salad, and banana pudding.
I will be brown-baggin' it.
And now I need cereal. Quaker Oat Squares in Cinnamon, in case you're wondering. Nosy.
And you can fall asleep blissfully secure in your knowledge that even an idiot like me can grow Chia plants. That's got to be pretty comforting, right?