I was sitting on the back stoop with Brody in the backyard. I’ve sat there every nice day (and a few rainy ones) for weeks now, and not noticed these rocks to my right. I mean, I saw the rocks, they help cover the runoff from the eaves and where the grass won’t grow up near our woodpile. So, I’m sitting there watching Brody and eating a handful of almonds and then I started noticing all this . . . Seems the kids at Tiller’s backyard birthday party took a sharpie to our rocks and I didn’t even notice.
You can’t help but smile when the rocks are smiling back at you.
Rock art by Liliana, Tristan, Tiller, and Trinity.
and Brook, Scarlett, Leah, and Milo. . .
And Emmy, Mia, Ingrid, Rollie, and Sydney.
There are moments, when you have children, that you want to capture in time like a fossil. You want to be able to pull it out at a moment’s notice, hard and solid, and still exactly like that moment you experienced, suspended in time. I had one of these moments tonight. I drank wine and played ZZ Tops’ “Tres Hombres”… Read more →
Clairee: “Why do you give all these to me?” Ouiser Boudreaux: “Somebody’s gotta take em, I hate em, I try not to eat healthy food if I can possibly help it.” Anelle: “Then why do you grow them?” Ouiser: “Because I’m an old Southern woman and we’re supposed to wear funny looking hats and ugly clothes and grow vegetables in… Read more →
You may remember a while back when I wrote about that time I talked to my 6th grader about strip clubs over dinner. It’s always something at the dinner table. So, tonight, I came home after a canceled therapy appointment. Thank you therapist, for canceling after I’ve already driven from my office in Cumming all the way down 400 and around… Read more →
I know I already posted the snake thing, but this requires it’s own discussion, because kids starting middle school is like some kind of hyperspace/warp speed shit. . . all of a sudden all this kind of serious stuff starts whipping by and it’s all a blur. Dinner table subjects tonight included: – How babies are made – Sperm (with… Read more →
Dogwood Girl needs your help. Decorating is not Dogwood Girl’s strong point. Mr. Dogwood Girl complicates matters by being color blind. Read more →
Todd and I call my home office in the basement “The Hatch.” Cracks me up. Read more →
Day 2 of Todd Johnson’s two week absence: # of hours slept last night: maybe 6? #book reports completed: 0 # cat poops cleaned off carpet: 2 # cats still living: 2 # pissed off neighbors: 1 # of favors owed Lauren Sullivan Shankman and Scott Shankman: 4 # times i cried about 9/11: 3 # of nights i’ve gone… Read more →
This morning, I miraculously got the kids up and ready for school today with time to spare. I sat sipping my coffee on the couch until time to get the kids in the car, with Tiller, Rollie, and Brody (the dog) all sitting beside me. I checked my email while the kids read Rollie’s Encyclopedia of Immaturity, Vol. II. (Because… Read more →
Ooooh. . . Really, really, really want one of these prints from Old Try. There are different prints for different Southern states (Mississippi and Arkansas‘ are best, but I have no connection there), and then some that are just generally Southern. I want this: Or this: But most of all, this: I want it bad. Via Garden & Gun, which… Read more →