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We've been met, measured, linked, hitched, tied, joined, tangled, chained, anchored.The Mother Runner
Loose Ends
We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
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Saturday, June 3rd, 2006
First Tomato
posted by lizzie « 7 Comments » tied to Uncategorized
So red. So juicy. So delicious. Never has a tomato tasted so good. Too bad it was so small.
Nice. Growing tomatoes is like having kids, except you get to eat them.
Maybe we should adopt Mr. Swift’s “Proposal” and then growing tomatoes would be exactly like having kids.
That put a rather disturbing image in my mind. Eating your own kids? Makes me not want to eat tomatoes anymore. Oh, and who is Mr. Swift, and what did he propose?
Jonathan Swift wrote “A Modest Proposal.” You’ll read it next year in Mrs. Drake’s class when you study satire. He proposed that, in order to keep the population under control and to prevent the people living on the streets from starving, they eat their own children. Kind of a killing of two birds with one stone idea. I don’t think it caught on.
This reminds me of how Mom used to say we were so cute she could eat us. She doesn’t say that anymore. Take that last comment how you will. I take it to mean we are all ugly (sarcasm).
Maybe it is because our flesh is too tough now that we have grown up. We’re not as soft as we used to be.
So fun you’re tasting the fruits of your labor already! We finally just finished planting our little growboxes. Lots of tomato plants, some tiny tomato nubbies, but that’s about it.