robot•jumping•rope

pieces of french toast I cooked this morning: 15

pieces of french toast I ate this morning: 1

loaves of bread my family consumes in one week: 3

gallons of milk my family consumes in one week: 3

peanut butter sandwiches my kids eat per day: varies, average is 2-3 each

days I have been waiting for my passport: 87

dollars in my checking account: 297.74

colors of nail polish I hate sitting in a basket in my bathroom: 11

songs on my nano: 349

songs on my harddrive: 2277

months left until BSG Season Four: 8

times I re-watched La Femme Nikita Season Two, Episode One: 4

PBS Kids® programs my children have viewed this morning (so far): 3

questions posed to me this morning concerning birds, coffee and gum: 6

questions posed to me this morning regarding this possibility: 4

pairs of flip flops I own and wear: 8

sunflower seedlings coming up in the bed outside my kitchen window: all!

Lego pieces that have fallen into air returns in our house: infinite

plastic horses in my daughter’s Breyer® collection: 22

plastic horses on the floor of my daughter’s room: 20

plastic horses with broken legs awaiting repair: 1

books checked out from the library at this moment: 26

books from the library on the living room floor: all

amount in fines the library collected from us this week: $19.55

frozen pizzas in my possesion: no comment

cobwebs I can see from where I’m sitting: 5

cups of coffee enjoyed this morning by me: 2

hours until I get dressed: unknown

When I was twelve years old
I came upon the paintings
Of one who was a misfit like myself
A lonely, awkward man

He painted shaggy whirling stars
As big as suns
And sunflowers with tawny manes
As fierce as lions
He painted fields ablaze with yellow wheat

And then his narrow bedroom
His bandaged face
And some old work-boots
That he portrayed with reverence and care
Like one who is transcribing
A letter from the Lord

He painted portraits
Of his village neighbors
In order to belong to them
To be enfolded in their life
Like the village doctor

He painted them
With his most radiant colors

“I wanted haloes for them”
He told his brother.

- from Living Things
by Anne Porter, b. 1911

more

and even more

I STILL DO NOT HAVE MY PASSPORT IT’S BEEN 12 WEEKS AND NOTHING AND I AM LEAVING FOR MEXICO JUNE 17 PEOPLE THIS IS NOT GOOD NOT GOOD AT ALL.

where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plains….

I can’t help it - when there is blue gingham about, my thoughts turn to Shirley Jones, surreys with fringes and fields of corn as high as an elephant’s thigh.

too small dress from last year lengthened with stuff from the stash, embellishment applied using fake!applique aka zigzag stitch.

and a kerchief!

~chicks and ducks and geese better scurry~

(or not)

If I have people over every week it motivates me to keep the house clean. 

so, the bbq invite (nice deck, huh?  I had fun googling for that pic) happened 2 weeks ago, I just liked it.

HOWEVER, I think the KCASMACBA (kansas city and surrounding metro areas crafty bloggers association, or “Kcas-Macba”) needs another soiree, and I think it should be at my house.  My husband makes the best mojitos on the planet, ladies.  Not kidding.  And we should get together before the weather gets ungodly hot (which we know could be ANY DAY NOW).

What say you?  Sunday afternoon again?  3-??   May 27th works for me…

(unless you’re in the southern hemi - sorry!)

summery goodness is almost upon us…

so open those windows and TURN IT UP

and COME ON OVER

shirt and shoes optional