I’m watching for it, that brilliant post. I’m waiting for it to arrive. I stare, purposefully if you wish, at the monitor. Here’s what I see. No brilliant blog post on the horizon. Rather, my head’s reflection, and the blowy trees in the back yard. This is the kind of mirror I can really mesh with, as it only shows the cuteness of today’s flip hair and the leafing trees out behind the patio.
I love it when the leaves come.
And they’re coming. Finally.
Also, there is a snowflake logo on my phone’s weather forecast. Twice. For today and for Thursday.
Update: I have just thrown away my phone.
(Don’t worry, Husband. That was a lie. Remember, everyone, that I lie? Well, I do.)
I’ve had ideas for posts. Isn’t that nice? And I haven’t written any of the ideas down. Hence, no posts.
I learned something, yesterday, though. Shall I share? I’m a much happier substitute teacher (specifically for the first grade) when I lower my classroom expectations just a smidge. When I don’t demand that everyone is actually LEARNING something at all times, everyone is a whole lot more glad. When I don’t expect all the kids to actually LISTEN to me, all is well. Shall I apply that to my life? No. I think not.
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I love the produce man at my grocery store. (Don’t worry. Not that kind of love.) Here’s what happened. I scooted over to the store on Saturday because I had a couple of hours. And so, naturally, I should make jam. Strawberries were on sale for $1.50 a pound or something, so I grabbed up a lot of pounds. And Mr. Produce Man saw me. And stopped me from buying the pretty berries. And handed me 5 flats of slightly less pretty berries, for which he charged me something like $20. Like $.63 per pound. And told me I’d have to throw away a few. Which I did. Maybe one pound worth. I made 14 batches of freezer jam (the less sugar kind, because that’s how I roll) plus had enough halved berries to fill 2 gallon sized freezer bags, for smoothies. All for $20. (And some slave labor by Kid 3, who hulled berries like nobody’s business. I could not have done that little project without her. What a Kid.)
When I scooted over to the store to buy bananas and spinach and watermelon this morning, he waved me over and asked how the berries turned out. He was glad I’d had some big success, even if he maybe-possibly wished I’d had to throw away a few more pounds. The berries weren’t as bad as he’d thought, apparently.
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WORD COUNT UPDATE:
I am more than half way to my word count goal for the current Work. (I like to call it Work. That makes it sound so terribly important. And prosperous, or something.) Strange things are happening on the pages (and off) in this story, and it’s fun to see it sort of moving along on its own steam, even when I ignore it for a couple of days so I can sub Kid 4’s class.
Which reminds me, I really should be writing at that story right now.
Instead of staring at my hair’s silhouette in the monitor.
(8) Comments for this blog
You have really cool hair, so it only makes sense you’d stare like that.
I want jam now.
You have really cool hair, so it only makes sense you’d stare like that.
I want jam now.
Awesome! I love those kinds of produce guys!!
Awesome! I love those kinds of produce guys!!
My produce guy glares at me for interrupting him to ask him questions like, “Are Roma tomatoes and plum tomatoes the same thing?” It’s not a stupid question.
My produce guy glares at me for interrupting him to ask him questions like, “Are Roma tomatoes and plum tomatoes the same thing?” It’s not a stupid question.
One time my produce guy told me he liked my hair. I bought an extra bunch of bananas that day, I tell you what.
One time my produce guy told me he liked my hair. I bought an extra bunch of bananas that day, I tell you what.