Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop writing prompt #3: Write a haiku about what you see out your window. Haikus are like potato chips. Of course, I couldn’t write just one.
The Great Lakes equal grey skies
In winter, moods dip
Time for a Florida trip?
Enough snow to make things slow
Not enough to play
Still better than Buffalo
Starlings here to roost again
Fun to watch them fly
Ew–what’s that stuff on your head?
This is definitely a day to be okay. And by okay, I mean this is totally a coping mechanism for all to enjoy. Well, all two of you reading this. Whatevs.
You can find similar (read: exactly the same) fun over at Airing my Dirty Laundry. I may even have lifted this idea from her (read: I totally did). Feel free to add your two cents in the comments or write it on yer dang blog and link up!
*clears throat and shakes hair back in confident manner*
Hey, it’s Okay:
That I got a speeding ticket today for the first time in years. The sad part is, I wasn’t even in a hurry. I was just lost in thought and didn’t see the dang speed limit sign. I saw the cop and THEN looked around for the speed limit sign. Pretty sure slamming on the brakes never makes the cop change his mind about pulling you over. *sigh*
To have very sweetly asked the officer if there was any chance he’d consider just letting me go on my way. Nope. Can’t blame a girl for trying.
To be not all that excited (read: very displeased) about the frigid temps that have settled in our area so early in the season. Wind chill has brought it down to single digits at this point. Brr.
For me to hope my new WARM winter coat arrives soon.
To be relieved that we’re not in the heavy snowbelt areas:
To be glad I didn’t have to be on the NYS Thruway today–much of it was closed because it looked like this:
To remember the days of growing up in that same snowbelt:
That I forgot to set our white trash DVR to record Revenge last night and now I’m tip toeing around online hoping to avoid any spoilers.
That I’m totally wild about the Netflix series, Derek.
To be a bit surprised that the show has such a sweet, innocent main character. I am always surprised by how many episodes produce tears.
To recognize that he kinda offsets the tender moments with one of the most crass characters you’ll ever see in a TV show–Kev.
To be reduced to tears of LAUGHTER every time Kev delivers one of his epic lines.
For me to wonder what the weather’s like in your neck of the woods. Share at least that much in comments, yes?
Great googly moogly. Is it really Monday already? I started my week getting a filling and meeting my huz for coffee. You?
Last week I met a couple friends out for movie and dinner (seems backwards, no?). It was the night my friend and I chatted in my car and my battery died. He got to be all knight in shining armour and werk those jumper cables for me. I was very grateful. Since then, I got a new battery and a tire rotation, so my car’s all ready for winter, which, it seems, missed the memo about starting December 21.
So. Movie. We saw Bill Murray’s most recent flick, St. Vincent and all seemed to feel roughly the same about it. It was good, but not something I’d go telling everyone they had to go see.
It was nice to see Melissa McCarthy playing a dramatic role after what seemed like a neverending string of similar comedic characters. Bill Murray’s character was a curmudgeon you want to hug and swat alternately, but he played it like a finely tuned violin.
Newcomer cutie Jaeden Lieberher knocked it out of the park. Murray remarked in an interview that he typically doesn’t care for working with kids, but this little dude was awesome. I concur.
Should you wait for the DVD? Probably, but it’s fine for a matinee. Especially if you go to one of the recliner theatres. Holy cow are they nice. Even though they totally make you feel like the lazy people on the Axiom from Wall-E. But I love them.
Here’s a preview of St. Vincent. No real spoilers here:
I think we all put on our judgy pants now and again when it comes to other people’s parenting skills. I know I’ve definitely uttered words about requiring couples to take a test before being allowed to procreate.
Thing is, we all parent in our own way. It’s entirely possible that other parents would judge me for teaching our kids the taco-burrito song from the SNL Spartan Cheerleaders skit. Stuff like that just kinda happens.
We were watching Tanked on Animal Planet the other day, and The General (Brett’s dad) was wearing a Speedo at a beach party they filmed. It’s a Pavlovian response for me–I can’t hear the word “Speedo” without singing that song. I started doing the cheer and Mr. Wombat joined in (audio clip below):
We were amused, the kids were amused, it was some good old Wombat family fun. I know SNL was on when I was young, but my parents didn’t watch it. Even if they had, I can’t imagine their reciting something from a sketch and teaching it to us while we all had ourselves a hearty laugh.
This left me thinking either there is huge shift in parenting styles between generations, or maybe I should have grabbed a copy of that parenting test for myself. I’d like to think it’s the former. Because Speedos are funny.
Except for this one. This one’s just plain oogy and totally not cheer-worthy:
I’m so sorry to have subjected you to John Mayer’s unmanscaped Borat adventure. Please allow me to erase that image for you. Feel free to do the taco-burrito chant or any cheer you see fit while admiring Mr. Nathan Adrian:
I meant to type blob, but my fingers wanted to say “blog.” Then I realized just how fitting it was and added “blob” after that.
Because that’s kinda how I feel sometimes trying to post every day. Friday night we took some of our Girl Scout troop to an indoor water play place, and that was huge fun, but made for a late night and cranky kids (possibly adults) today. Rummy, of course, was happy as usual, and wanted nothing more than to play with her beloved princess kickball. Video forthcoming of those shenanigans.
Today we went to a few stores in search of a second dog bed for Rummy for our bedroom. We can’t decide if she’s old enough to graduate to sleeping upstairs with us, but she loves to hang out up there when we’re upstairs. I had a quilted doggy blanket thing up there, but we tried it out in her crate, and she didn’t eat it, so yay for her. Comfortable sleepies. I can’t imagine that hard crate floor was comfy at all, but the lady we got her from cautioned me to not put any fabric in there with her lest she should get bored and eat it.
Didn’t find a bed we liked, so I may bust out the material and zipper I bought when Annabelle & Sophie were young and make it myself. I just need to find a decent insert.
So that’s the extent of the excitement at Chez Wombat. I feel like I owe you something far more exciting than this, so here’s a video of dogs and cats who don’t like being kissed: