The Next Generation

My sister and I have been on a kick to be as weird as possible...not on purpose, unfortunately. It began, as Mel says on her blog www.pat-and-mel.blogspot.com, with us spontaneously texting in Olde English for an HOUR. (Attempt at a reason: Melanie was at Shakespeare in the Park in St. Louis at the time). We then began wondering what was wrong with us and we blame it on Dad. So this weekend, we were all alone in Atlanta, and could do whatever we wanted, and we spent an hour or more taking weird pictures on photo booth.

The evidence:



So today, the next generation has joined our ranks:



We are so proud.

And, Mel, here is our Olde English conversation which is clogging up my phone. Using Dad as our reason for being so weird (love you Dad!) or not, it still begs the question: What is wrong with us?!?!?!!!??!?!? :)

Mel: "Pat is ignoring my chatter, and a friend said I should speak to him in olde english the rest of the night...hahahahaha"

Me: "What be thou address numerals? I knowest well the code of zip but hast forgot the rest"

Mel: "Streams of water escapeth me eyes. This I cannot halt. Disgruntled are those surrounding this person. Ohh how I longeth for time with my beloved sister. When shall I be graced with thou presence!??

Me: "I cannot bear such humor! How my breath doth also escape me! methinks my libations maketh me a trifle to merry! Ah, if only I were with thee what mayhem we would make?! In but a weeks time, fear not dear sibling. My fingers doth protest at my disgraceful abilities upon this miniscule machine."

Me: "I cannot still this new speech. It pours forth like the fountains of wine from which we partake. Oh dread...I find myself thinking in such verbosity though quite alone...I fear the permanence of such dialects."

Mel: "i hath not felt so much cheer in many changes in the seasons. Oh how thou hast restored laughter in my heart..."

Me: "I have just let a gutteral laugh escape my girlish mouth, akin to a man with a robust middle...I fear I may wake the sleeping babes with my frivolity?!?!"

Mel: "how dost they sleep through such laughter? I musn't stir to hastily...insects are stirring as though my flesh is but a stream of honey"

Mel: "woe is me...I wish to retire to my abode. Locked into this hellish weather, I must stay as this entertainment doth continue..."

Me: "Yea it will continue for many more bites of the mosquito and loathsome flying intrusions. But take heart! Thou lodgings are but a jog away?!?!!"

Unfortunately, it didn't stop there....days later I receive another text from my Olde English sibling:

Mel: "Dearest sister, I pray this letter finds you well. I am to board the strangest of contraptions. Hast thou heard before of an aeroplane?? It shall deliver me to a destination shortly. My heart overfloweth with the joys and anticipations of our travels."

Me: "Of such a strange innovation I have heard tale! In truth I have witnessed this mythical metal beast but this very morn. I write you with all warmth of eager expectation of your long awaited arrival"

So ends the tribute to my singular sister, whom I cherish with all love and doth hope with all my being to see again in the quickest of days.

There's no rage like the rage of a two year old

Oh, a new stage of fits has hit the Ingram household. Too bad Stephen is missing this one.

The raging Patrick.

A fit over what, exactly, remains to be discovered. But the fit is still raging. Can't keep him in his room because he bursts through the baby gate; he proceeds to ram into the kitchen wall, ending up with a fleck of paint on his tooth and a mark on the wall. Does that stop him? Oh no.

So I try to hold him and be nicer...help him to calm down, you know. The Dalai Lama says "parents should be calmer."

Then he bites me. My first child bite. He BIT me! on my arm! I am still a bit shocked. And it still hurts. Those were sharp little teeth! So much for being a calmer parent.

So the backwards-underwear clad little monster is now in his room, still crying. After the biting incident, he has ceased storming the blockade and is just wearing away at my sanity a bit at a time with his half-hearted screaming. Oh, Patrick.

There is no rage like the rage of a two year old.

Garden Casualties

Curling pea plants climbing gracefully up my wooden fence, colorful leaves of Swiss Chard bordering the garden bed, pumpkin vines stretching around the mounted bird feeders with mini pumpkins beginning to grow, big red onions being pulled from the rich soil, bountiful squash and tomato plants, the smell of herbs wafting from my brimming herb garden...me relaxing in my little private garden surrounded by the colors of my labors.

or not.

We've had some garden casualties. A lot in fact.

1. birds ate my tiny lettuce plants
2. peas think it is too hot, therefore only two wee plants have sprouted and are pecked by birds
3. topsy turvy tomato planter hanging from a shepherd's hook is so heavy, it crashed overnight; cherry tomato plant is still intact, but the bent pole is now duct-tape-roped to a crepe myrtle tree
4. squash disintegrated due to some disease/pest I am unaware of
5. big pumpkin plant now taking its turn to shrivel
6. red onion above-ground growth has now collapsed...not sure what's going on there. I found the little onion under the ground and he seems fine, but only time will tell
7. only 3 carrots grew out of the 15 or so
8. basil looks like sticks (now being salvaged) because I didn't know you are supposed to pinch it off to make it grow...oops. thanks to my smart neighbor, we're back on track.


the sad half-empty garden


no more squash


what happened to the onions?


ah, the duct-tape rope...still hanging on

On the bright side, so as not to be a glass-half-empty kind of girl, I have a lot of radishes. (wait, is this a bright side? do I eat the radishes? not so much. turns out, they do sort of taste like poo) My tomato plants are happy and I have two ripening tomatoes, lovely and unpecked. My beans are also happy (I even have some to eat!), as are my bell pepper plants and other herbs. Tons of oregano, but don't know what to do with it except smell it; lots of mint, blooming lavender, flat leaf parsley, chives and thyme. Half the garden is now empty due to the above casualties, but to reclaim this lost land, I think I will plant something easy, like flowers. They should cheer me up. And maybe the birds won't eat them.


abundance of radishes...any takers?


my herbs (hhhherbs as Mel might say)


happy bean plants


and beans!!!

Farewell Dress Up Box (sort of)

Last weekend on a particularly drippy and dreary afternoon, we decided to clean out the house (again). I sat on my bed looking into my closet, trying to pick out what could go, when my gaze drifted to the left corner of the top shelf. There sat a beat up cardboard box which has not been opened in a very long time...

oh yes, the dress up box.

My family will know exactly what I'm talking about. Little costumes picked up during childhood and adolescence (or so I claim) that I just couldn't part with...a tinkerbell costume (grown up size), clown nose, purple cape, elf shoes (?). I took the box down and called in MC, knowing she would love to inherit some of this nostalgic loot. Of course, dressing up ensued. As we put on giant hats, angel halos, some killer teal and yellow clip-on earrings (kept of course), and some sticky, old and very bright red lipstick, I tossed out the junk (note: some of this is not considered junk?) and Mary Clare magpied a few items. I hit a bit of a snag, though. I mean, how can you part with such a marvelous wig and moustache ensemble, especially when it brings to mind me dressed as Sonny Bono!? And Lip-synching "I Got You Babe"? Ah, the memories...



To be fair, some of the retained items are actually Stephen's dress-up box additions: Thai kickboxing shorts and a very un...I mean attractive 70s outfit. So fortunately (or unfortunately?) it is not just me with this weird collection.

Take that Stephen.

And I don't know who that crazy guy is in this picture.