.::still blinking::.

Have you ever blown up your vacuum? Me either.

But my mom told me around Christmas time she was vacuuming around her Nativities on one of her shelves and accidentally sucked up Baby Jesus.

Here is the part where I tell the truth. I actually blew up our vacuum on Friday. This was a new experience for me. We had had our vacuum since we had gotten married, so just over six years. It was given to us by my mom’s co-workers at Herriman City.

I was vacuuming the car out on Friday. I did not see anything large that I had vacuumed up, but I heard it. It was loud. I heard it make its way up the tube, clanking around and then it finally got to the actual vacuum part. I am making assumptions about the size because of the collateral damage. I don’t know what I actually sucked up, I am assuming it was Baby Jesus, because he was pissed.

The vacuum knocked itself over, blew a large piece (the size of my hand) off the back, shot the bristle cover up and off the vacuum and started screaming at the top of it lungs and spinning as fast as it could. I quickly turned it off and pulled the front off so I could see if anything had happened to the bag, there was a hole in it.

My neighbor was outside and came running when she heard it. It scared her as all our kids were out and we were keeping a lazy eye on them.

So we ordered a new one the other day, not the nicest, because $500 for a vacuum, is just sick. I would rather spend the extra cash on shoes. You know, important things.

We ordered seeds for our garden this summer. They have such happy, friendly names.

Empress Bean
Aunt Molly’s Ground Cherry
Two Inch Strawberry Popcorn
True Lemon Cucumber
Charantais Melon
Amish Snap Pea
Moonglow Tomato
Cream of Saskatchewan Watermelon
Sunberry

Don’t they sound like they are going to come out of the ground singing in harmony to “It’s a Small World.”

Today in church Gentry drew a picture of me and then quickly erased it. This is a picture of jj, they do look awfully similar. The hair that stands up. The long skinny body. That is definitely jj.

:: freedom to be me + friends who let me be that person ::

:: cracking the window at night to let in fresh + crisp air ::

:: being in love :: being loved in return ::

:: playing girl games with boy toys :: dancing cars :: kissing dinosaurs ::

:: lunching with family + friends ::

:: finding out people are better than I thought ::

Sometimes I fantasize about kicking people through the ceiling.

No one in particular. Unless you count those who punch me in the mouth while we are both sleeping.

jj broke my interweb last night.

So rather than be home today and have the shakes because I could not check this or the latest gossip here, I somehow managed to be gone all day long. That is a little exhausting and turns an otherwise semi-deaf man cub into completely-deaf man cub with super sensitive feelings.

I did however, get a bunch of these to put my new spice collection in. Also, two of these. One for the man cub and one for a singular friend. This brilliant purchase increased the chair count in our house from four to six.

Also, I really have no patience for other peoples children throwing screaming tantrums for fifteen or more minutes while the parents leisurely eat their lunch. Meanwhile, back in the real world the rest of us lunch eaters watch and shudder in horror as the offending child keeps going on and on and on. Screaming and screaming and screaming.

And screaming and screaming and screaming.

Um, I don’t mean to be rude or a child hater or anything like that but. um. obviously your child is a little bit tired/spoiled/naughty, I don’t know. Choose one. But then Gentry, the child authority on naughty behavior, started yelling at her in a british accent. Everything is much more proper in british, because that is obviously a different language.

“Young lady, you are being extremely rude and ruining lunch for the rest of us human patrons.”

I made him stop it because she obviously has parents who don’t notice fifteen minutes of screaming, and because no one needs a toddler teaching them proper behavior.

Eventually the screamer and her parents left. Gentry continued with the british accent and told me how naughty that girl was.

Indeed, she was.

Lord of reality
make me real
not plastic
synthetic
pretend phony
an actor playing out his part
hypocrite.
I don’t want
to keep a prayer list
but to pray
nor agonize to find Your will
but to obey
what I already know
to argue
theories of inspiration
but submit to Your Word.
I don’t want
to explain the difference
between eros and philos
and agape
but to love.
I don’t want
to sing as if I mean it
I want to mean it.
I don’t want
to tell it like it is
but to be it
like You want it.

:: Psalms of My Life :: Joseph Bayly ::
:: Tyndale Treasures :: copyright 1969 ::

I planted these in the fall. I am so happy to see them this almost-spring.

Me and the garden flowers, we are having a love affair.

Well hello new favorite friend?

What is that?

You want to follow me around today as I do utterly mundane things.

You don’t mind watching me scrub toilets and blow out my hair.

You will keep me energized while collecting masses of my hair from every corner of the bathroom, each and every bathroom?

And you aren’t going to make any comments about how my butt looks nothing like Cameron Diaz butt?

You know, diet pepsi, you and I are going to be good friends.

Today we had a new friend come over to play because the regular was not home, you know who you are.

Gentry and friend (I had two man cubs in the house) were so loud and wild. I was amazed. Gentry was good, for a while and then towards the end he turned into… Well a gelatinous ball of tears and stubborn buggers. He would not share. He would lay on his toys so the friend could not play with them. He was just a little meanie.

I started to threaten him that he needed to share or his friend was going to have to go home. The friend, not wanting to go home, started giving more toys to Gentry. He was bringing his sacrifice to the altar and the Gentry from on high was not happy with the offering.

To bad for Gentry the master of the house was not up for dealing with it. I slapped a pull-up on his little bottom and put him in bed.

Now I must go and shower and wash the grime off my body. I don’t want these ladies to throw up this evening from the lovely waftings of B.O. and buggers and tears.