My Father is David Sedaris' Mother

In Reflections: Letting Go He describes how she reacts when he takes up smoking:

My mother, however, looked at the bright side. “Now I’ll know what to put in your Christmas stocking!” She put them in my Easter basket as well, entire cartons.

My father used to buy me cartons (Benson & Hedges), cut off the UPCs, and then at some later time in the year, give me the gift earned by those UPCs. I got a wine and cheese set, and some lovely/futuristic coffee beakers and a French Press. Of course, when we cleaned out the house after his death, we also found that he was keeping the carton boxes from his own brand (rather than just UPCs) for the possibility of offers to come. He was getting rather hoardy after retirement. There were lots of birdless cages not-yet-cleaned-out, too.

When I'm pining, I'll try and remember Tina's words, from the end of Sedaris' essay.

Via Bitch, Ph.D.

I Think I've Got It

In the week before Mother's Day, the Possum asks what I'd like. "Well," says I, "I'd like The Golden Compass, and I'd like to sit down and watch it, together." And just to be sure, I told the Spouse.

Happily, for Mother's Day, I got The Golden Compass, and movie candy (my favorites: Junior Mints, Circus Peanuts, and Whoppers), and the leisure time to sit and watch a movie I wanted to see with my family on the enormous sofa under the faux-mink throw of decadence. If life gets better than snuggling with the Offspring while watching armored polar bears fight, then I don't think I'm ready for it.

Also, it turned out to be a good choice, because I was too ill over the weekend to do much else anyways.

Solar System Visualizer

Cool and sciency!

Thanks, Live Granades

Signs I'm getting Really Old

The Spouse forwarded this link to me.



Smells Like Teen Spirit

as performed by the Western Branch Freshmen Orchestra.

The WolfOwl Competes

That's her, the one in pink.

In April her tap/ballet class went to competition dancing to Waltz of the Flowers. As the only entry in their age group, they won first place. That's her, in the middle, in a red jacket, with her trophy.



I'm really impressed, because they had a lot of extra rehearsals. They worked hard (students and teachers), and I'm proud of her.

I'm also proud of the Foxcelot, who was patient and generous while her sister literally took center stage.

The recital itself is amazingly long. We stayed until the bitter end on Sunday, all four and a half hours of it. That's probably a bit much for a kindergartener.



She behaved better than I did. The Spouse and I tend to get rather punchy the last half hour or so. Fortunately, the balcony has emptied out by that time so no one was offended, except my beloved MIL.

Next year perhaps I'll remember that there is no where to eat after five. This is only my fourth recital; I can't be blamed. At least I remembered all the costumes, three this year: for ballet, praise dance, and tap.



The Offspring are amazing. Even when they aren't an image by Degas.



Because the recital is held on campus, I got to hear how much the WolfOwl is looking forward to attending college. Mostly for the cool gothic buildings, and the gargoyles. She's really quite thrilled at the idea of being able to take such specific courses as, say Pre-Columbian American History. They better be offering such a thing in twelve years, or there will be trouble.