ImPerceptibility

Archive for July, 2009

[Playing around with Photoshop today.  The kids are playing golf with MyHusband and my father-in-law and the house is quiet. Here's a couple of the images I found on flickr and decided to messed around with today. Anyone except Anthony know the musician? Hope everyone is doing well.]

It’s nights like these, that make me sleep all day
It’s nights like these, that make you feel so far away
It’s nights like these, when nothing is for sure
It’s nights like these, I don’t want you anymore

Yet I’ve only got this one wish
That I was good enough to make you forget
The only boy, who ever broke your heart
Cause nights like these tear me apart

It’s nights like these, the sad songs don’t help
It’s nights like these, your heart’s with someone else
It’s nights like these, I feel like giving up
It’s nights like these, I don’t seem to count for much

Yet I’ve only got this one wish
That I was good enough to make you forget
The only boy, who ever broke your heart
Cause nights like these tear me apart

The beer tastes like blood, my mouth is numb
I can’t make the words I need to say
She had a weakness for writers
And I I was never that good at the words anyways

Well I’ve only got this one wish
That I was as good enough to make you forget
The only boy who ever broke your heart
Cause nights like these tear me apart

One of my pet peeves is when people dumb down what they are talking about when they talk to little children. This irritates me the most when they talk about science topics. Sure you can simplify the explanation but why not use proper scientific terms? Why teach them one name and re-teach them the correct name a few years later. Honestly, when your four-year-old falls down and asks Grandma if she thinks her patella is cracked, you’ll appreciate the effort.

When my youngest was little she asked me about the parts of a flower I told her the proper names. Stigma, pistol, stamen, anther, sepal, ovary. Why not? She was curious and she’d learn it one day. No day like the present. So, when she was reading the children’s menu out loud at a local restaurant I got a little irritated when it called the flower parts “male parts” and “female parts” Why didn’t they just name the parts?

“Male and female part?” I questioned her. “What are they called for real?”

She looked at me and told me the the female part was the stigma. I smiled. What are male parts called I asked with a smirk on my face. No one was gonna dumb down my kid.

She thought about it for a minute then a flash of memory came across her face. I waited anxiously for the response.

“Male parts are called the penis!” she said loudly, excited that she remembered.

A few heads turned and I turned red.

They are, Mom! Male parts are called the penis!

Yeah, I taught her that too. What was I thinking?

“Hey! Who wants ice cream for dessert!” I shouted.

Just because I’m sure you care, here are my last five Google searches :

wife spanking legal in Virginia – Leesburg, VA
someone spank me – Coshocton, OH
I want my husband to spank me – Arcanam, OH
getting my husband to spank me – Houston, TX
drywall bucket potatoes – Manteca, CA

Umm…? Is there something going on that I don’t know about? I guess the person from CA didn’t get the memo either. And MyHusband, looks like you might have a new career option.

[Update: I just went and refreshed my stats and I have a new one. My husband spanked me last night - Denver, CO  I was wondering why he came to bed so late! ]

I was feeling it and I guess it showed in my eyes. I could hear a voice from the past, “Damn city people”. It was right there in my head, someone else’s words but they were taking form in my own voice. I did that redneck thing with my eyes and mouth then I started picking up my own corn. The difference was, I didn’t feel the need to shuck my corn. I just grabbed and filled my bag.

I’m not sure when I first saw someone standing at a small farmers road side stand inspecting and shucking ears of corn. I’m sure I was shocked. When I was a kid we use to get corn from Farmer Brown. His name was actually Mr. Wilkins but for some reason I called him Farmer Brown. I’m not sure why. He didn’t mind. Thirteen ears of corn went into a brown grocery bag from the A&P we paid and went home. There was no shucking. No inspecting his corn to make sure it was good enough. You got what you got and most of the time it was good. If it wasn’t there was always an extra ear to make up for it.

That was his corn from his family farm. It was his hard work, his lively hood, and his reputation. You don’t shuck something like that. I don’t know for sure but I suspect that had I been rude enough to start shucking his corn right there at his stand I would have been picking myself up off the ground rubbing the red hand-print on the side of my face. It would have been for my own good because you just wouldn’t do something like that back then.

I guess times change. Now corn is shipped in huge boxes on tractor trailers from farms so large that no one knows or cares who planted it or where it came from. You can stand in your giant grocery store and shuck until your hearts content. It doesn’t mean a thing. The corn is so far removed from responsibility maybe shucking is a good thing. Maybe it’s even necessary.

However, when you decide to go to a small farmers road side stand and buy corn for just a little more than a quarter an ear you should not shuck. That’s just rude. You can if you want. I’m sure the farmer will let you. But when you do, expect the contempt in my eyes. Expect my kids to watch you like you are an animal a the zoo while they wonder about your manners. Expect me to laugh as you drive away. Also expect me to get 13 unshucked ears for the same price you paid for your six carefully inspected shucked ears. Damn city people.

I’ve decided that today is my day off. Everyone else gets them, so should I. I’ve been sitting on the couch most of the day.

I should probably go grocery shopping but there’s a box of spaghetti in the pantry.

Probably should vacuum the floor but there are Legos everywhere and they make a terrible noise when you suck them up in the vacuum

Might be a good idea to weed the other half of my garden but the weeds will be there tomorrow.

I haven’t throw a ball for the dogs in awhile but they just keep bringing the durn thing back. They’re never satisfied.

I cooked some wheat berries for a loaf of bread last night but they’ll keep for a few days in the fridge.

I did get dressed today, around noon.

I did get a new high score on bejeweled blitz.

I did tell my kids they could have popcorn for lunch.

A few minutes ago I opened my new pack of fine point markers that I bought yesterday. Then I found my tiny little sketch book with the black cover. I’m going to draw all kinds of little things, naughty secret things in it. Then I’m gonna hide it back where no one will ever find it. (In the oatmeal container)

But I’m not going to do that right now. First I’m going to take my youngest to the skate shop so she’ll stop coming in every thirty minutes and reminding me she needs to get grip tape. Then I’ll stop at the grocery store on the way home and pick up something for dinner. Then I’ll finish weeding the garden while dinner is cooking. On the way back in I’ll throw the ball for the dogs so they’ll stop acting stupid. The bread dough will get mixed up while I’m cleaning up the kitchen. It can rise overnight in the fridge.

I am not gonna vacuum though. I’m just not going to do it. It’s my day off!