Bath Soup

Since I was feeling under the weather today, after I took my hike in the canyon to try and burn out any virus lurking in my aching joints, I made myself a hot bath. I put in:

1 cup Dead Sea Salts to try and draw out the achiness in my muscles and tissues
5 drops of Rosemary oil to help clear my stuffy head
2 tbs of olive oil to soften my skin

After I washed up with a bar of mint soap, I realized I could just as well as have been cooking a turkey as taking a bath.

Oh yummy bath.

I say, I say It's a Mosquito Hawk

It's that wonderful time of the year when you walk around the house picking up dead mosquito hawks off the floor. Four this morning. I think the mosquito hawks at my house are dying of gluttony.

I picked a mosquito hawk up today that wriggled a little upon hand to wing contact. I looked at him and said, well buddy, your time is almost up anyway. Then I threw him on the pile accumulating in the trash.

Your Mom's Day

My daughter Hannah and her friend thought they were being clever when they declared that mothers should give their children presents on Mother's Day because without the children, women wouldn't be mothers.

I said, well, with that line of reasoning then, Hannah should give me a present on her birthday. . .

They thought for a second and then decided to leave traditions the way they are.

Shout out to all you Moms out there!

Are you wearing your Freudian slip?

Last night I had a crazy snippet of a dream that was in the format of an ad for a new bank checking program. In this "commercial," the room was all black except for a spotlight on the main character who was a middle-aged woman opening up her bank checking statement. Once she opened it, the document spoke in a friendly, but pleading voice, "Please deposit money in me now," and gave a very sad face.

Words appeared that read -- Checking Personified.

Then a deep commercially man's voice overlaid the scene saying, "Some banks offer personalized checking, we offer personified checking."

And then I woke up, giggling.

I don't know where this dream came from. . . I worry about what my brain is up to when I am not watching it.

I'm not in Kansas anymore

As I am typing, ten of my 13-year-old daughter's friends are at my house. One tiny girl just shouted loudly through the living room "who stole my deodorant!"

I personally just came in the house from explaining to the neighbors down the street that it was a wildly careening skateboarder who hit their car, tripping the car alarm, causing them to come out of their house in their pajamas. They are both police officers.

These kids are funny and full of energy -- and I see my future for the next few years. They ate three large pizzas, watched Dodge Ball with pillows and cups left all over the living room as they raced outside to 1) roll down the street as though it was a grassy hill 2) take turns riding skateboards and scooters full bore down the street (thus one of them running into the neighbor's car) prompting me to hold the phone in my hand with 911 on speed dial 3) climb the tree in the front yard; one of the boys falling out of the tree, landing on the blossoming bush below and rolling out onto the street.

They have not stopped laughing for more than two seconds . . . someone just shouted "slow down Lassy!" More laughing, more antics . . . one of them, who was climbing the side of the house, just popped his head around the corner to say hello. . . more laughing, more antics. . . someone just ran through the house with a big smirk on her face. . . more laughing, more antics. I see a view of many Friday nights ahead.