Friday, May 20, 2011

Just Hanging Around

Boo suddenly jumped, flew through the air and clung to the screen of the window....latched himself onto the screen. Hanging there, he seemed to be trying to prove to me that he meant to do that. Yup. Uh huh. Here I am attached to the living room window screen. Weee! Lookk at me Daisy, Fitzy, T.J. and mom! Now I'm really having fun. You bet! I'm loving it!

I sometimes feel embarrassed for Boo when he gets himself into this kind of predicament. Really. It's awkward! For all of us. HmmmmMmmmm...we' not paying attention Boo. It's. not like we feel your

He jumps up at the windows and doors when he sees a fly, a moth or a leaf. Sadly, he jumps up on the glass and goes plummeting down...bump. Oh sure, like he meant to do that. I wasn't born yesterday. Doesn't he have any dignity?

Frankly, I don't like to offer help in these situations. I mean, Boo is a may leave him feeling less than feline. It may diminish his confidence as a cat. Maybe we won't have to let the cat out of the bag....ssshhhhhh.

To Market, To Market

Here in Connecticut, spring is officially here when the farmer's markets fill the town greens. Each market has it's own energy. Staying at the local market or visiting out of town, it's a taste of the simpler life and natural goodness.

With folk music, flowers, herbs, fish, soaps, meats and cheeses. Folks of all ages bring lawn chairs, picnic blankets scattered all over green grass, toddlers dancing and spinning, babies in backpacks, grandparents with grandchildren, tourists and teenagers

Imagine how it was long ago...the town green...the meeting ...activities place to be. Now, some find it kitchy. Ironic. Everything old is new again.

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here We Come

Another gray day. Until it/ changes ...for awhile. I change my clothes. Grace and T.J. arrive home after school as the sun begins to shine. Yay! It's Friday. I love the weekends. Always have, always will.

The kids are exhausted by Friday. It's nice to have them laying low after school...relaxed having some "chill time"...for now. Grace has to babysit. T.J. has no plans...til tomorrow. After making some "indoor s'mores" and chatting, I was off to walk Daisy and Fitz.

We walked down to the sunshine. "Walking in Sunshine," as the song goes. Beautiful.

Kayaks are beginning to spot the racks...soon these racks will be full with colors like a pack of Lifesavers candy. The pop of color delights my eyes and reminds me it's time to get our kayaks to the beach...and the sailboat too.

Dogs swim and shake sell Who cares! It's sunny! Sea glass sparkles on the dry sand....heaven. Heavenly. Life is good. I'm grateful for the little things....I go home and change's a bit damp. Here we go again!

Mud Room

Yes, it's true. It's Connecticut after all. Everyone has a "mud room" at the back door. Well, almost everyone. We have the back door. Oh wait...sometimes the front door. There are mud rooms that are as formal as the Oval Office and there are mud rooms as basic as hooks and a bench with everything in between. I'm not sure when the mud room came into existence…it is definitely a New England thing…certainly now that our living is just a bit  more rural than suburban. Now we have dirt, boots, sand, sneakers, dirt, hiking shoes,  sand, sandals and shoes….and paws! Lots of paws…with dogs who could use their own mud room. For the dogs, we have the ever coveted Billy Maes ShamWow as seen on TV! Don't laugh! It works! I'm a real live testimonial!

Growing up in my lovely suburban bedroom community, we didn't have mudrooms...we kept our shoes on. There was a mat to wipe our feet, even in our upscale community...just a mat. Kids just kept their shoes on....unless a mom was the type that didn't want the kids in the living room. The front door was a clue, an unwritten kid code that signaled the type of house we were entering.

As we walked in the door, instantly we could sense the atmosphere. Shoes...on or off. Check. Everything perfectly in place with no sign of life. Check. Volume in the house. Check. Some houses were ultra quiet, uncomfortably quiet. Check. Whoop! Whoop! Playdar! Our playdar went off! This is a show house....this house is fun! The mom has lots of rules. Check. Playdar let us know how to behave. Tiptoe shoes off house or skip shoes on house? By the way, the skipping, shoes on house had better snacks too!

Houses are different. Families are different. Energy kicks in right at the door...or mudroom. Just wondering, is Martha Stewart reponsible for the mudroom? What kind of energy does your home have? Really, all that matters to make everyone welcome.

I try not to send the signal that I'm one of "those" moms. I don't want to be THAT mom, as Grace and T.J. say. Funny but I'm not thinking I stand a chance to be THAT mom. Byt thte way, THAT mom might run right out of our house without a specific place to keep her shoes….and we don't often wear slippers…we're not THAT family either! Don't get me started. Not that there's anything wrong with that.