I always think of tatoos when the weather gets warm. I've decided what I want, finally. Sort of. I just need to figure out what it will look like and where to put it. Unlike men, we ladies have to consider aging skin/muscles, etc. That sleeve that looked so sexy at 25 will just be a wrinkled, saggy blur at 80. Think about it, honey. Ankles, inside wrists, shoulder blades, the cliche "tramp stamp" on the lower back - these spots are pretty good cuz the skin doesn't get so saggy. But - less fat/tissue = more pain. I don't like pain. So. There's that.
Anyway. Spring. Newness and life.
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Speaking of newness and life - its all babies, babies, babies right now. Three expected in my social circle. A girl and two boys. Yippee! I've got one quilt started and need to buy fabric for two more.
And, there are now giraffe calves in my neighborhood zoo. This morning I walked past their enclosure and visited with a mama and her young one. How beautiful are giraffe eyes. Those lashes!
(I will not be making the young giraffes quilts.)
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On a whim, last night I grabbed Anne Morrow Lindberg's Gift from the Sea for my bedtime reading. I've always enjoyed this little gem of a book. Such lovely language to adjure us toward simplification, solitude, investing in deep relationship, growing into each season of life, etc. But now that I am married, and middle aged (ahem), I just get it so much more.
And really, this bit makes the whole book for me:
Before we sleep we go out again into the night. We walk up the beach under the stars. And when we are tired of walking, we lie flat on the sand under a bowl of stars. We feel stretched, expanded to take in their compass. They pour into us until we are filled with stars, up to the brim.
Spring/summer always stirs up the longing in me for that bowl full of stars. I want to be filled up to the brim with starshine. The beach is calling me.
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The other book I'm reading, as a followup to Merlin, is my King Arthur and His Knights - Selected Tales by Sir Thomas Malory. Here's the deal. We've romanticized and idealized these guys, but truthfully, they are all a bunch of selfish, immature, ding dongs, getting their feelings hurt and lopping off heads or stabbing each other or doing some pointless feat of arms to no good end. Grow up, guys.
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This week in paleo eating: Plantains. Yum. We dice them like potatoes and fry them up with onions, bell peppers, and spices. They are weird, and they are awesome.
Also awesome: GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES ON PALEO BREAD! Oh, Lordy. One lament we've had is our loss of grilled cheese sandwiches. There are just times when that is what a person needs. Period. I do a lot of paleo baking, but bread is expensive and time consuming and tricky. So, I just haven't tackled it yet. Someday I will, but I've got bigger fish (plantains!) to fry right now.
Our local gluten free specialty market mentioned in their latest newsletter that they had paleo bread in stock. Yippee! I saved some of my "entertainment" money from our buget and got a loaf. (Pricey stuff.) I also threw caution to the wind and got Trader Joes tomato and roasted red pepper soup and some olive oil potato chips.
We ate our sandwiches. Freaked out. And watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And it was good.
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We watched the Johnny Depp version. Weird and fun. I don't remember much of the original one. Only that it scared me. Creepy Gene Wilder, scary Oompa Loompas, kids dying in horrific ways, freaky LSD colors. I don't know. Maybe its awesome. As a kid I didn't like it at all. We may put the old one in our queue just to compare.
This one had little Freddie Highmore, who is just the cutest, sweetest little English boy. I teared up more than once at his little self. He reminds me of my nephew that I took care of as a child, so I think he stirs up maternal nostalgia in me. The freckles! And those ears sticking out of his head! Gah.
My nephew is now a giant, hairy fire fighter man, and father to the expected baby girl I mentioned above. But my heart remembers him as a little boy, and when I see Freddie Highmore, my heart just squeezes tears out of my eyes.
Also, loved all the grandparents. Three sweet, one cranky, and one with dementia. I smiled at her exchange with Willie Wonka at the end:
Her - "You smell like peanuts. I love peanuts!"
Him - "You smell like old people... and soap. I like it."
So yeah. Freaky. Weird. And oddly heart-warming. Plus fun music. (Go Danny Elfman.) Cute, non-scary Oompa Loompas. And little Freddie Highmore. (Who is also now grown into a nice young man. Oh, Time. Just stop already.)
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And that's all I have to say about that.