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Quit'cher bellyachin' and write! is what my inner author keeps yelling at me. All day I've been ignoring it, trying to cover it over with one part of my mental mantle. If you want to write, just write. Put your (figurative) pen to (virtual) paper and let come what may. As a wise commenter said (short of slapping me and yelling "Snap out of it!"): Words are never wasted.

There were these things today, things I noticed: the way the water cleared and cleaned the pot I made soup in, the scarlet strip of sunset out across the fields. Pheasants with a death wish on the long hill up to Lund. A perfect avocado: sliced in half around the pit, pulled open to reveal pale tender fruit, the pit popped up and a spoon to scoop, the lingering creamy taste of summer salads.

There were these things, too: that my daughter's head under my chin tilts it very slightly up; that my son stops in to give me hugs when he's been away from me for a few hours; that my husband laughs at my comebacks and moves his feet to make room for me on the couch.

I'm re-reading a humongous fantasy series (Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover books) which contains OVER 40 books in total, including anthologies. I don't have them all and am not planning on reading the short story collections, but am a little torn about the time commitment that this requires. I just started the 9th book and it's taken me about a month to get this far (with one interruption for a book club book) and at this rate it will be summer before I'm done. The reasons why I am re-reading the whole series are 1) it's been a very long time since the last time I read them and I've been wanting to immerse myself in comfort reading old favorites for awhile and 2) I have one of the latest books in the series and have this obsessive need habit of re-reading all the previous books in a series before I can read the new one. It's okay when it's 2 or 3 books but when it's 30+ it suddenly becomes a bit more problematic.

Things that are occupying brain-space lately: 2 people I know have died recently and I am scared about that stupid "comes in threes" superstition, despite knowing that it's all coincidence. How we can possibly afford to add a short trip to Chicago into the middle of our already expensive summer vacation to the States. My weight, again. My tendency to live in the much-anticipated future so much that I forget to enjoy the moments of now. (I need that Field Guide, please go pledge, won't you?)

Reasons why I am evil and mean, according to my children:
  • I often tickle them into submission when they won't do what I want
  • They can only have 10 pieces of candy on Friday for myskväll—and sometimes it has to last all weekend
  • They can only have soda on Friday and Saturday unless we're at a party at someone else's house
  • Even on Friday and Saturday, they have to drink their milk first
  • I make them go to the grocery store with me
  • I rarely fetch things for them, even when they ask nicely, since their legs ain't broke
  • I kick them off the computer to check email IN THE MIDDLE OF A GAME
  • Homework first! Then games
  • I cheat at yellow car with gold ones
  • I say "Use your head!" a lot
  • I don't give in to puppy eyes or blandishments or begging
  • No one does Muahahahahaha! better than I do
On Friday I'm hosting the Wonders and I'm debating about what to serve: Artichoke-baked chicken or steak with Karl Johan mushroom sauce and roasted almond potatoes. Eeny meeny miny mo!
mood: tired
music: Beangrowers—Waiting

From Megsie

This song has been in my head for a week or more. It has been my companion when I go on my morning stroll, when I sit down to post, and when I go through my day. Did I tell you that I re-read Harry Potter after I finished my master's last summer? Best reward for completion EVER.

Re: From Megsie

I had never even heard that song before (or that band) last night. Good stuff! I love :)

Did I ever tell you that I've never managed to get past book 3 of Harry Potter? I even considered putting the books in my book-sale bag, but Karin told me she might read them later so I didn't.

Mmm, roasted almond potatoes sound good.

I noticed a moment when the early morning sunlight crossed the room to unfurl the tightly spiraled fern frond tips, just a moment. Birds, feathered suits smoothly groomed and distinctly patterned, leisurely munching millet, beak moving in and out of the small feeder opening.
My tongue, bursting with it's own joy, seemingly apart from ME, at the taste of veggie curry and ginger plum sauce. How does a tongue do that?

Love your list Liz! (from one list maniac to another)

They don't actually have almonds in the recipe...the name in Swedish for the kind of potato is almond potato. I'm not sure why, nor am I sure what they would be called in English.

What a beautiful moment you noticed! Thank you for sharing!!

Edited at 2010-04-07 08:07 pm (UTC)

First of all: those first three paragraphs. Sheer beauty. I loved the lines about the pheasants followed by the perfect avocado...

And then: *gulps* I know that worry about things in threes... but maybe the third can be a magpie, or some other small thing the universe can take? I want to say I'm sorry--because it's the thing people are supposed to say--but it never comes close, or does enough. Know I'm sending love & hugs.

And finally: GOD I want to be exactly like you as a mama when my kids are M&K's ages... You are a BRILLIANT mother. Seriously.

Brilliant, schmilliant. I really AM evil and mean. Muahahahahaha!!


I love the reasons why you are evil and mean! Although I do wonder how it can be that you never give into blandishments, etc when they never seem to give up on trying that tactic! And, I wonder do you ever hear them echo "Your legs ain't broke" when you ask them to do something? I think their list only speaks of a loving parent - which they'll see the wisdom of in another dozen years! SO- be patient! HAHAHA! Love, Lizardmom

Har! No way, jose! I try not to abuse my parental privilege by asking for kids to fetch for me too much :D

The Tolkien fan in me is in love with this entry's title.
The starving bookworm in me is agog at your reading ambition. (I don't think I'd have the fortitude to start a 40-book series!)
The worrywart in me knows how very much coincidence can feel like fate and wishes she could mail you a little package of peace.
The therapy-wary mother in me is giggling at your evil list. (Insisting they drink their milk first? How can you sleep at night filled as you are with all that EVILNESS?)


Actually, I took the title from a song in Santa Claus is Coming to Town XD haha!

oh. how happy i am that you decided to write. YOUR words are never wasted on me. the little things you notice are the makings of life and it is beautiful. sorry to hear of your losses, by the way. hugs to you.


What kinds things you say, thank you :)


Maybe you've already thought of this (or someone has suggested it) but what about a house trade for the time in Chicago? Maybe someone from Chicago is dying to spend time in Sweden this summer?

And I, too, am so glad you write. Your humor, descriptions, fieldnotes from life touch all of us.


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I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Abraham Lincoln

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