Not much, you?
Weekend was good, if busy. But a good kind of busy, not the crappy kind of busy that makes you wonder where the hell your weekend went and if you really had one at all.
Stef came Saturday, and I took her to the Lodge, where I sweated my arse off while she, well, didn't. I'm not sure what it's going to take to out-athlete Stef, but I'm pretty positive I don't have it in me. I, at the very least, held my own.
Saturday afternoon I cleaned the house (wahoo!) and I don't remember what I did Saturday night. We went to 5 p.m. mass, which was an exercise in trying to teach a two-year-old to whisper. She knows "shhhhhh," and does that well, but she thinks it's hilarious and then cracks up laughing, not in a whisper. In our case, it shouldn't be called the "cry room," it should be called the "party room."
Sunday I dug into my laundry room, which has slowly been disintigrating into a massive mess over the last few months. It's all cleaned out now, and everything organized (bins for tissue paper, wrapping paper, gift boxes and gift bags, with subdivisions within the gift bag bin for girls, boys, holiday, kids, and specialty). Sigh. I know, it's a sickness, but dang it, I'm prepared for any sort of gift wrapping emergency.
Today it was back to work for me, and work around the house for M. He repaired the beam in the garage (good-bye 2x4 support tower!) and the light in aforementioned laundry room that's been broken for many moons now. There's just about nothing I like better than throwing a bunch of junk out and getting a bunch of repairwork done.
Okay, this post sucks. It sucks bad. I've fielded about 400 phone calls though, since I started writing it. It's hard to be witty when you keep getting interrupted.
Plus, I'm tired. Today was very busy and I got a lot done there, too, and then tonight was running around with Zozo (and by running I mean literally, running around the house, which she likes to do right at bedtime), and now I'm just tired.
Fun fact of the day (before I retire): I share a birthday with Tina Modotti, whom none of you know unless you happen to share my adoration of photographer Edward Weston. She was his muse, his student, his partner. She joined several different revolutions and was kicked out of a few countries before meeting with a sad, tragic end. I don't know much about her past her relationship with Weston, but the last time I was in Ann Arbor and Stef took me to my favorite used bookstore there I found a biography of her. I love biographies, and especially biographies of photographers (and the founding fathers, but that's another subject entirely). Last night, while reading it, I learned that we share August 16 as a birthday. Not sure why yet, but for some reason, that's important to me.
Stef came Saturday, and I took her to the Lodge, where I sweated my arse off while she, well, didn't. I'm not sure what it's going to take to out-athlete Stef, but I'm pretty positive I don't have it in me. I, at the very least, held my own.
Saturday afternoon I cleaned the house (wahoo!) and I don't remember what I did Saturday night. We went to 5 p.m. mass, which was an exercise in trying to teach a two-year-old to whisper. She knows "shhhhhh," and does that well, but she thinks it's hilarious and then cracks up laughing, not in a whisper. In our case, it shouldn't be called the "cry room," it should be called the "party room."
Sunday I dug into my laundry room, which has slowly been disintigrating into a massive mess over the last few months. It's all cleaned out now, and everything organized (bins for tissue paper, wrapping paper, gift boxes and gift bags, with subdivisions within the gift bag bin for girls, boys, holiday, kids, and specialty). Sigh. I know, it's a sickness, but dang it, I'm prepared for any sort of gift wrapping emergency.
Today it was back to work for me, and work around the house for M. He repaired the beam in the garage (good-bye 2x4 support tower!) and the light in aforementioned laundry room that's been broken for many moons now. There's just about nothing I like better than throwing a bunch of junk out and getting a bunch of repairwork done.
Okay, this post sucks. It sucks bad. I've fielded about 400 phone calls though, since I started writing it. It's hard to be witty when you keep getting interrupted.
Plus, I'm tired. Today was very busy and I got a lot done there, too, and then tonight was running around with Zozo (and by running I mean literally, running around the house, which she likes to do right at bedtime), and now I'm just tired.
Fun fact of the day (before I retire): I share a birthday with Tina Modotti, whom none of you know unless you happen to share my adoration of photographer Edward Weston. She was his muse, his student, his partner. She joined several different revolutions and was kicked out of a few countries before meeting with a sad, tragic end. I don't know much about her past her relationship with Weston, but the last time I was in Ann Arbor and Stef took me to my favorite used bookstore there I found a biography of her. I love biographies, and especially biographies of photographers (and the founding fathers, but that's another subject entirely). Last night, while reading it, I learned that we share August 16 as a birthday. Not sure why yet, but for some reason, that's important to me.
posted by Amy at 8:30 PM
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