Fluid Pudding

After Harper’s orthodontist appointment this morning, the girls and I met my mom for lunch. On the drive to the restaurant, we listened to Christmas music.

At the restaurant (Freddy’s if you’re nasty) I ate a veggie burger wrapped in lettuce and it was definitely the right choice.

After we ate, we went to a store down the road and suddenly it WAS Christmas and so many people (not you, of course) are yelling about how it’s too early and it’s not even Halloween yet, but you know what? I would celebrate Christmas every day of the year if I could. (Clarification: Not the gift thing, but the feel of it all. The smells. Getting up at 5 in the morning to light the tree and drink coffee with the dogs before the craziness begins.)

Side story: Two years ago I got up at 5 and made coffee. While I was turning on the tree (maybe by dancing provocatively, but probably by pressing the light button), Henry jumped onto the couch and took a drink of my coffee. Instead of getting up to pour another cup, I decided to take a deep breath and just pretend it never happened.

Just look at that tree. It’s made of wood and I love knowing that it exists. Merry Christmas, you guys. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’ve been practicing my dip pen skills. Actually, I’ve been trying to develop some skills, but it’s harder than I thought, and I’m not sure it will become a thing for me. I’ll give it a few more days.

I guess the smart thing to do would be “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” I prefer “He’s dead and by dead I mean dating a stripper.” ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This evening was spent eating portobello tacos and street corn with a friend who loves words as much as I do. I then drove home, read a few chapters of The Miniaturist, and worked on the gusset of a sock. This week is our fall break and what a lovely way to get it started.

And then there’s this song. I love it just as much as my kids do NOT love it. (There will undoubtedly come a day when I no longer love it, but that day is not today.)

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(photo credit: Julie F.)

This is what happens when a bunch of talented and enthusiastic young musicians get together for several hours each week. They take charts and phrases and they rehearse and then rehearse some more and they fine-tune certain things and they maybe change up other things and they focus and they care and suddenly they’re a family and it all comes together and they win. And they win big. And so much pride. And so much joy.

Parade Awards:
Best Percussion
Best Visual
First Place in Class
Parade Grand Champions

Prelim Awards:
Best Music
Best Visual
Best Percussion
First Place in Division
Peoples Choice Award

Final Awards:
Best Music
Best Visual
Best Percussion
Competition Grand Champions ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I have local honey. 60 pounds of it.
I have jars. 72 of them.
I’ve been sterilizing those jars.
I’m going to heal our town.

I’m now the person who runs to her car to grab a sprig of sage when something stressful is happening.

Lately, I’ve been into circles. As a result, my ears are freshly hooped, with the latest addition being the sparkly one up top. (Just follow the arrow!) Also, you are in luck! The photo (miraculously) captured the rarely sighted banana-wielding Viking who lives in my ear canal! His name is Vestibulocochlear Svartkollrsson. Huge Björk fan.

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(My new journal has half-photos. It’s up to me to finish them.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Yesterday I went to the Central West End, where not all of the buildings are boarded up. I share this photo only because I love these boarded up buildings, and I’ve spent so much time thinking about the people who may have lived in them or the stores that may have once been open. Kate Chopin lived in this neighborhood. (So did Tennessee Williams, T.S. Eliot, and Joseph Pulitzer.) So much history, and now there’s an art store whose grand opening is this weekend.

I have a lot of artists in my life. I went to St. Louis Art Supply with one of them yesterday during the soft opening and suddenly I wanted to write and draw and carve linoleum and drink assam tea. (We drank assam tea, because the art store shares space with a café. Magic.)

Oh my Lord. Do you see the staff nib? I didn’t purchase it, but I wanted to. I still want to. I still might. Maybe. If I had a staff nib, I couldn’t just let it sit quietly in the dark. A staff nib requires commitment.

I love the spooked feeling I get when I look down an alley. Add snow to that alley and I think I see ghosts. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Tempe and Kristine are knitting these socks and wearing them on election day. AND, because I once purchased macarons at Whole Foods after participating in a wine tasting with Tempe and Kristine, I am knitting the socks (and wearing them on election day), too.

From the pattern site:

“If something needs fixing, lace up your shoes and do some organizing.” That’s what President Obama said, and that’s what we’re doing here at Little Skein.

We believe in kindness, lending a helping hand, and equality for all. If you believe as we do, please join us.

I partnered with designer Megan Williams to bring to life a sock design that could become an emblem of this idea: To stand up and be visible, and to encourage everyone who shares these positive values to vote left in the mid-term elections.

These beautiful Swing Left socks are the result.

These socks are for everyone who shares the vision of a more perfect union. Soothe your worries by knitting some socks and take action by Swinging Left in the upcoming election.

Look. It’s no secret that I’m one of those damned liberals. I have an Elizabeth Warren for President t-shirt (but I don’t like to wear it because the font is crap and I’ve moved on). My 2020 dream team would consist of Kamala Harris and Cory Booker. I am currently soft on patriotism. (I’m sorry, but it’s true.)

I am not an asshole. In fact, I’m probably one of the most harmonious people you’ll ever meet, because drama makes my life shorter and I’m already more than halfway done. You go vote however you want. Do your thing and maybe roll your eyes at people like me if it makes you feel good. Do this while knowing that: If I had a package of Oreos? I would offer one to you. EVEN IF I WORKED SO MUCH HARDER FOR THOSE OREOS THAN YOU EVER WILL.

Bop ba doop bop doop. Vote. Knit.

(If you haven’t registered to vote, hit that link over there on the right that says “Register to vote online.” What on earth are you waiting for? For what on earth are you waiting?) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

1. A few months back, I accidentally squirted this into my daughter’s eye, and then I laughed so hard that I doubled over and did the loud wheezy thing I tend to do when something kills me figuratively.

2. I own glitter pants, and I’ve never been to law school.

3. I once took the ACT for someone after being bribed with an amazing week in New York. Because I scored noticeably higher than her previous attempts, she was kicked out of the university and I stress-drank a stout while underage.

4. I made out with Harry S. Truman while I was on my honeymoon.

5. I’m not always Angela. Sometimes I’m Zach the Bearded Dorito-Breathed Paranoid Poet.

 

6. I looked at the sun during the eclipse.

7. I love Jesus and I dig his birthday, but I toyed with the idea of making this our Christmas card last year.

8. I can’t control myself during meetings, and it may be because my anxiety meds need an adjustment. Notice how I said anxiety MEDS. That’s right. Plural.

9. I gave my daughter these socks.

10. So many skeletons in my closet. And I’m not afraid to make out with them.

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What you can’t tell by looking at this photo: Yesterday’s marching band prelim competition was rain delayed for a few hours and eventually became a park-and-blow in the gym. It sounded incredible.

The bands who chose to stay participated in the finals competition outside. Once again? Incredible. In fact, Incredible + Ribboned Potatoes. Long day, but I believe everyone went home happy, and the girls’ former school won first place.

What you can’t tell by looking at this photo: Jeff went for a walk this morning and this pup was wandering around the subdivision looking dirty and scared. Because I know what it’s like to wander around the subdivision looking dirty and scared (long story), I knew we had to save her.

“Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I’d have the facts.”

We leashed the dog and took her to a clinic. She was scanned, but we couldn’t obtain her current information. I posted photos online and an angel stepped up with semi-current information. Meanwhile, the dog’s adoptive mother sent a message saying the dog had escaped during the storm. I delivered the dog to her home, and holy crap that felt good.

So, I drove home and hung lights on the ficus tree. (We now have two ficus trees in the house, and both are lit. I may never leave my house again.)

I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you why I should not be eligible for Supreme Court justicehood. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>