I freaking love this song, y’all!
It’s bouncy and dance-y and just has a way about it I love.
Check out Portugal, The Man’s new ditty, What Me Worry and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
I freaking love this song, y’all!
It’s bouncy and dance-y and just has a way about it I love.
Check out Portugal, The Man’s new ditty, What Me Worry and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
A guy called Carlos showed up at our house Monday last.
His mission?
To trick out our closet.
He worked tirelessly over two full days.
And when he finished, we got a system as functional as it is beautiful.

(YBW’s wall, but my drawers and shelves at the end)

(YBW’s wall with comfy seat storage bench, he gets dressed here each morning)
Wednesday last I came home from school early (only had one tutoring session) and spent the entire afternoon in the closet.
The result?
Absolutely glorious closet porn!

I’m so excited I can hardly stand it!
It’s beautiful and perfect and I love going in there.
We’ve discussed a rug and new lighting fixtures, but I’m in no hurry…I want to live with it for a while and see what’s really important.
This was the last ‘big thing’ we had to do to make this house our home and we knocked it out of the park, y’all!
(a note about the wallpaper: it’s blue cherry blossoms and we put it up before Carlos came)
Welcome to Night Vale is a podcast written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor.
To say Thing 2 is a fan is an understatement.
She’s listened religiously since the beginning in 2012.
She turned me onto Night Vale. And while I’m not as deeply invested as she is, I too love this delightful podcast about a community radio show in a spectacularly weird desert town.
When they announced the 2020 Night Vale Live tour I bought tickets as a Christmas (2019) gift for Thing 2.
We all know the whole damn world shut down in the spring of 2020. The show was postponed twice before finally canceling.
Disappointment.
Sadness.
Especially because “The Voice of Night Vale” Cecil Baldwin announced The Haunting of Night Vale would be his last live tour.
But(!!!)
Two years later we found ourselves surrounded by a theater full of strange and wonderful people who like the same weird shit we do.
Cheers!

The story was well done, but the epilogue was everything.
(here’s a teeny glimpse)
We carry our ghosts with us. They don’t haunt us, they are a part of us. We are each our own haunted house.
Y’all it was an amazing experience!
I laughed.
I cried.
I cheered.
Standing O.
left to right: Cecil Baldwin, Kate Jones, Symphony Sanders, Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, Erin McKeown
I have such a grateful heart!
Thing 2 arrived on a morning flight Thursday last.
She let me know she landed safely and was waiting for her gate checked bag.
Then I got this message:

This is a perfect example of how I communicate with my daughters. I knew what and why she was actually asking. I answered the underlying question. It’s a silly thing, but I love that about my relationship with my grown girls.
After we brunched at First Watch we hung out at here at home drinking bubbly.
Friday Thing 1 and Baby K came over to play.
YBW came home from work just after they arrived.
Of course he and Baby K brought out the blocks.
Aunt Gaga built too!

Saturday we went out to Naked Mountain to pick up YBW’s wine and hang out in the barrel room.
Thing 1, Husband N, and Baby K met us there.
Baby K shared her snack with Aunt Gaga before falling asleep in my lap.

Thing 2 and I went through two boxes of photos from the great and arduous process. She asked questions, I told stories. We saw her grandparents and mine when they were children. We saw our own faces reflected in these photos. We sent quick snaps to Thing 1 asking if she saw Baby K’s face in certain photos of their Grandmommy.
Thing 2 told her own stories, shared her memories, and expressed her genuine joy and gratitude hold these photos in her hands. She created a pile of photos we wrapped up carefully, tucked into her journal, and packed in her suitcase.
We binge watched Our Flag Means Death holding hands and snuggling up on the sofa. Thing 2 was all about that “boy love”. I was all about the beautiful humanity of it.
We also went to see The Haunting of Night Vale. This was the reason for her visit. Tickets she received as a gift Christmas of 2019 for a show April 2020. (we all know how that turned out)
But, two years later there we were in the theater holding hands and being as SQUEE as only we can.
She flew home Monday afternoon.
I miss her.
But I’m not sad. There’s no room in my heart for sadness right now.
My heart is overflowing with love.
Overflowing with gratitude.
I’m grateful to have this time with my girls together. Grateful for this time with YBW and Thing 2. Grateful for time with my second daughter.
I’m grateful we went to see Night Vale together, something she’s absolutely adored for ten solid years. Something she introduced to me and I also now love. Aren’t we lucky we got to experience this together?
I’m grateful we went through two boxes of photos. I got to see my parents through my daughter’s eyes. She never her her great grandfather, but she knows she’s named for him. She knows he was my first true love. She sees his image and feels the strength of that connection.
I’m grateful for our silliness. Our seriousness.
I’m grateful to have a strong and healthy relationship with my adult daughters.
I love that girl more than the moon and the stars and I know how fortunate I am.
I discovered Erin McKeown Sunday evening at the Lincoln Theatre when she was ‘the weather’ at The Haunting of Night Vale.
She shared that pre-pandemic she had four dates with someone then never saw them again.
As we all went into quarantine, she found herself wondering how many songs she could get out of four dates.
The answer is thirteen.
Thirteen songs about four dates on her record Kiss Off Kiss.
Check out Go Along/Get Along and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
However…
I took some time to explore the good sprinkled within the madness and found myself feeling grateful.
So, I made a list.
I mean, of course I made a list…
Imma call it ‘Gratitude: get you some’ (or something like that)
With all sincerity I’m grateful for:
celebrating Thing 1’s birthday
freak snow storm
Baby K weekends (even when she doesn’t sleep and we switch to EDT)
being a helper (and earning money doing it)
the honor of knowing some seriously wonderful humans
peanut butter toast
black elderberry – echinacea – C vitamins – acetaminophen – ibuprofen – sudafed
vodka lemonade
warmer days
working well with YBW
Essie Bustling Bazaar polish
discovering The Bitter Southerner
being handy enough to patch and paint closet in preparation of new system installation (also grateful for upcoming closet porn but that’ll be it’s own post)
the group chat with Thing 1 and Thing 2
kick ass laundry machines
cleaning roof terrace and setting up rugs and furniture in anticipation of all the #porchlife
work schedule flexibility
air travel (Thing 2 arrives Thursday)
YBW’s nurturing and caregiving
driveway chalk playtime with Baby K
the ability to read
H2BAR box
orange juice (with calcium & vitamin D – no pulp)
AT&T offering FREE Samsung S22 devices (new phone who dis?)
Ryan Reynolds (we watched both Free Guy and The Adam Project this month)
Shuttle Art G-Line pens
my monogram hoodie
It took me an unusually long time to like this song.
But now I do, I have to share it.
Check out Chapstick by Coin and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
I’m at school more than I’m not.
How do kindergarteners know how to cuss?
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” when no one is even speaking.
Incident report because first grader beat me up.
Bite marks and bruising, but no broken skin – right forearm. Bruising from heel kicks – right shin. Redness from backhand punches – nose and left cheek.
School. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
It’s too much.
SPED class teachers and TAs are heroic.
Or crazy.
Am I a glutton for punishment?
I just wanted to help.
So tired.
Got sick.
Haven’t actually been sick in four or five years.
Worn slap out.
Sub job canceled today.
Sweet relief.
Can nurse this cold in peace.
No creative energy.
Literally just putting one foot in front of the other.
Fortunately it’s over now.
Rest.
Linger in steamy shower.
Write.
Rest.
Tomorrow brings something new.
Am hopeful.
I absolutely adore this song about old friends by this young man, Jordan Topf
This chorus though.
All of the friends I had before
Are raindrops just falling at my doorEvery word you said is just a memory stuck in my head
Like a videotape, it’s just a memory slipping away
Echoes in the dark fading where we are
Every word you said is just a memory stuck in my head
Check out Memory by Windser and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
Most of the time you’re happy to be a weirdo. Other times you’re ashamed.
I paraphrased a bit, but these are excellent lyrics of their own accord.
Weird is a blanket we all wear at one point or another. The trick is not wearing Weird’s miserable cousin, Shame.
Most of us outgrow our Shame blankie.
Some of us outgrow our Weirdo blankie.
Some of us grow to the point of letting our Weirdo blankie freak flag fly and giving shame the back of our middle finger.
I may not be the healthiest Weirdo in the room, but I left Shame at the door. I don’t have time for that foolishness anymore.
Check out Weirdo by The Charlatans and let me know what you think.
Please listen responsibly.
(...and some I have)
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