Wednesday, March 11, 2009

guest book review: Don Quixote

This is for Rebecca, who's been taking stabs at reading this.

D. read an abridged version of Don Quixote for school, and here's his assessment (and I quote):

"I can tell you the entire story in very few words.

He reads too many books. He becomes a nut. So then he gets a squire, and he trains his squire to become a nut. Eventually he dies because he's a nut."

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

context, context, context.

A and I are enjoying a quiet evening in the living room. He's reading, I'm playing games on my laptop. Here's the conversation:

Me (playing Scrabble online): "I'm only coming up with four-letter words."

A: "Why? Are you in that bad of a mood?"

Monday, March 09, 2009

spring is not icumen in

Spring is not icumen in
Lhude sing poo-pooh!
Snoweth snow and Bloweth nose
And Groweth impatience anew...
Lhude sing poo-pooh!

**edit** Apparently my song reference above is too obscure. I based it on the old Madrigal song written in Middle English, "Sumer is icumen in." Here's the original poem with a performance of the song. Enjoy! Now, back to your lives, citizens!**

I awoke to a winter wonderland this morning. Late this morning. I had to recover from a long, busy weekend and a lack of sleep following the time change.

3 inches is usually more than enough to keep the Puyallup School District from functioning--however, school was NOT cancelled. I learned this AFTER D. missed his band class. He was truant - playing in the snow.

A. figured we might as well let the kids play outside - it'll be the last snow of the season, likely. So, no school today yet. Instead, I'm cleaning house and doing more vacation planning. Road trip!!

Friday, March 06, 2009

mother hubbard

A, just moments ago, commenting on his inability to find a suitable lunch:

"I'm beginning to understand why tigers drive away their offspring from their territory... otherwise, there's no prey left."

He further queried:

"What do you call something that just lies around, causes trouble, and eats food?"

(Me: "A cat.")

"No. A parasite. A lawyer."

He'll change his tune once I rustle up some suitable grub. Seems I'd better get to it.