Holding pattern


Allow me to treat you to a cellphone photo of one of my all-time favorite pursuits: a hardware store visit with one or both of the offspring.  Consider it a humble place-holder here ’til I round up time to actually write something.  Always easier said than done.

We are in aisle 51B: garden implements.  Baba’s in 7th heaven.  Boychild is too, since we are scooting through the store with him head first, me piloting (or rather careering) the craft from its nose end.  He’s kind of like the decorative object at the prow of a ship.  It’s the preferred mode of hardware store locomotion, if a bit unpredictable, since the steering mechanism of a grocery cart is basically the omnidirectional front two wheels, rear ones fixed.  Whatever.

Whenever there’s an empty aisle, he announces, “Ready… set… GO!”  And of course off we go.  Unless Baba finds something she needs to examine, and she stops the craft.  This is a high-risk activity (browsing), since in such cases he is nearly always struck with the impulse to lean over, pluck something out of the cart, and fling it. As depicted above.

Fortunately for us, he’s still in diapers.  His sister and I let ourselves be a bit too carried away with the hardware store fun one time, and I have lived to regret it.  Details here.


New Year’s portrait


Courtesy our chum AnnZ.  We had a groovy light bouncey jobbie off to the side, catching and reflecting the late afternoon sun on our porch just now.  Other than that, nothin’ fancy.

Yes, that’s a roof in the background there; yes, we live in an attic, what of it.  We like to call it an atelier, anyhow.

This is posted for no other reason but a sense of joyous celebration that I fixed the broke sidebar (simply add “/div” and stir!).  Goddess knows how it happened in the first place, but it happened from up in the mountains, and the mountains are a mysterious place.

When time permits, and I hope it does tonight or tomorrow, I’ll share an account of my blackeye peas buying junket last night, and how it renewed my New Year’s optimism.  Which has sorely been in need of renewal.

May you all be suitably renewed, too.  No time like the present.