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Archive for July 30th, 2010

I ordered the backpack and lunchbox Rowan picked out today and I didn’t even cry. TAKE THAT, Kindergarten you ASSHOLE.

Also: Aren’t they cute!

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Then I started her birthday photo montage and so commenced the WAHHHH!!!!!!

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Internet I grew something! Rowan and I planted some wild and fragrant flowers this spring and BEHOLD!

No plants...

Some water, sun and a good story or two later and...

They growed!

Who cares if they are mostly weeds, everybody’s gotta start somewhere and not killing the shit out of these was a great first step for me.

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All of us except for Bill seem to be slowly recovering from The Great Vacation Cold of 2010. You’ll be happy to know my snot production has slowed down considerably and I only wish for death 3 or 4 times a day instead of 25-30. Unfortunately for Bill, it seems to have traveled to his chest and when I say “unfortunately for Bill” we all know I mean unfortunately for ME because at night his cough sounds like what I imagine a dying, tuberculosis-ridden rhinoceros sounds like and HOW CAN A PERSON SLEEP UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES? By smothering their beloved husband, that’s how.

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We’re done with all camps for the summer, so besides swimming and music class, Rowan has the rest of the summer to kick back and do what she wants. She gleefully proclaims every day jamma day, though she comes downstairs in an outfit of her own choosing at least 4 times a day. It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve had days stretched out before us without any plans and we’re eating it up. This week, due to all the sick, we really did absolutely nothing, but next week we’d like to get out to the zoo and the museum and maybe even do some raspberry picking.

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We attempted to got on the little trail by our house a couple of night’s ago. This trail is just a smallish loop around a prairie field, which Rowan has dubbed The Butterfly Trail. In truth it is a historical marker of an old homestead cemetery…It’s a beautiful, overgrown fenced in area encasing about 5 headstones of the Boutwell family. I love to go there to look at it, but the kids are obviously more interested in the butterflies which normally are everywhere…

Except this time the only thing out was rabid mosquitoes, one of which got ahold of Keaton's eye again and not only did his eyelid swell up but his whole body is covered in lovely red splotches.

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There is a fly in my house and the kids won’t let me kill it. They’ve grown very attached. I’m considering paying a hit man do to the job.

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And speaking of hit men! You guys, something terrible has happened. Lofty, literature obsessed me, whose bookshelves are home to only the best of Willa Cather, Toni Morrison, Margret Atwood, Virginia Woolf, Poe, Dickens, Rushdie, Shakespeare, Rowling (she counts, dammit) and volumes of poetry by Frost, Dickinson and T.S. Eliot and countless compilations of short fiction has fallen head over heels in love with true crime books.

It started after I read The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which is fiction. I was surprised with my “eh” take on it since I heard it was supposed to be the best book ever. I decided I needed a break from over-active, violent imaginations so I went to look in the memoirs sections and it was there that I ran into the true crime books, which were shelved close by. Nothing like true heinous crimes to de-desensitize you to what some humans are capable of.

(!TANGEANT!

I can’t read bad books. I just. can’t. do. it. If a book doesn’t grab me within the first 40 pages I will put it down without regret. I get so invested in the writing and the characters that if I read a book with a crappy ending I can’t take it and get very WHY GOD WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?

(And now I hope you understand why I refuse to read any more Jodi Picoult, because the woman does NOT know how to finish a book. Marginal writing, pretty good stories, TERRIBLE ENDINGS.)

I seriously wanted to stab someone after I read Big Fish (AWFUL book, great movie, though I could probably sit through anything with Ewan MacGregor). And I’m not kidding you, STABBY. Someone who also does this to me? Mitch Album. A freaking 1st grader could write better than this guy and I’m sorry if you had a religious experience when you read The Seven People You Meet in Heaven but I WANTED TO PEE on that book after I read it.) Anyway, this is why I usually stick with The Greats, because I’m mostly guaranteed not to murder anyone afterword. No one wants to die because I was subjected to the Sookie Stackhouse atrocities (which DON’T EVEN INCLUDE LAFEYETTE WTFBBQ.)

So. No one was more surprised than me when I picked up a true crime book at Half-Price and blew through it in a few days. I’ve read more in the last month than I have in the last 3 years due to Ann Rule. If you need a good summer read, might I suggest Green River Running Red, If You Really Loved Me and And Never Let Her Go and god reading these titles makes me want to punch myself in the face but seriously these things are like crack and I totally can’t help myself.

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I had great hopes of launching the new site on Monday but we’re still running into pageload issue from the images. If you’re interested in helping me test how long it takes to load on your computer, e-mail me or leave a comment and I’ll send you the link. It’s cached on my computer so I need to know how many lightyears it takes to load on a Mac and a PC with whatever browsers and connection you have.

Have a good weekend, Internet!

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