cut your mullet

at eight o'clock the four of us were in the bed and the babes were the only ones who were supposed to fall asleep. the boys had a good wrestle and run-around with ernie while i did dishes and set the timer for tomorrow's coffee. then while i straightened the covers on today's unmade bed and changed diapers and zipped jammies ernie went to my mom's house to retrieve henry's gary-hippo. jude was tired and kept nuzzling my neck. henry was wiggly while whispering "you're the best" and "i love you, jude" in our ears. it was a perfect evening together. enough of everything for everyone. so we piled up in our room of blue to put the boys to sleep.

ernie and i woke up at ten o'clock with those heavy fingers of sleep trying to hold us cozy in the bed. it was all we could do to get up and out of it. ernie was still wearing shoes and all that goes with a body still in shoes. i had already brushed my teeth once and as ernie jumped up and stretched i imagined how nice it would be if i just stayed in the bed until morning, sleeping for ten hours with boys in soft pajamas.

but i got up and filled tall glasses with ice and grenadine and coca cola and passed one off to ernie who was already working on finishing his "be thou my vision" composition that is due tomorrow.

sitting at my paper-pile covered desk i'm wondering why it is that ten hours of sleep doesn't send me running through the house half-naked and laughing like it does henry. so much joy in that kid. we could all use a little more, methinks.



let's hear it for boys in coats.

if i threw my guitar out the window

ben gave henry this gas station guitar last night. henry likes to practice and ernie taught him how to say "virtuoso." i wonder if there will be too heavy an expectation on henry and jude to be musicians. they'll certainly be expected to practice -- lots and lots of practice, hours of finger burning practice. i don't think anything bad will come of that, will it?



i have a hard time imagining having a child who hates to practice. i practiced until my mother made me stop. my brother would tell the teacher "whatever" and she'd cut his lesson short and make my lesson longer. that first teacher was a glossy self-tanned woman who didn't know much about music at all. she kept copies of "teen" magazine in her waiting room and while my brothers took their lessons i would read the magazines cover to cover. and during my lesson i would play the music perfectly. sometimes she would leave the room for one reason or another and i would sneak sips of her iced coffee from the sweating glass on her filing cabinet. she was angry when i quit taking lessons from her to move on to the hotheaded polish teacher who had a real tan and glossy short fingernails and a gleaming black piano on a floor of white carpet.

i wonder if there's anything i can do *now* that will "mold our young breed" (mrs. banks) into musicians. not just musicians, but lovers of practice.

it's still snowing. i crept down the stairs with the boys at 6:30 this morning and the snow itself had already been creeping across the lawn.

i said, "be careful his bowtie is really a camera"

my birdfeeder was heartlessly knocked from the tree by the wretched squirrel who chewed a scar in the side of the feeder the other day. i am so annoyed with this squirrel. he scares the birds away and eats all of the food. he looks at me through the window with little eyes, switching his tail and rudely splaying his crotch my way. i'm about to perform a random act of violence on said squirrel. my brother shoots the squirrels at his feeder with his paint ball gun. i'm not *that* annoyed. but something must be done. the cardinals are hiding in the neighbors bushes watching me through the leaves and twigs and windows as i stand and watch the squirrel munch away.

henry painted yesterday during jude's first nap. he started with the paper and ended with his body. he didn't know he'd been wearing a blue moustache for half an hour until he caught a glimpse in bedroom mirror much later. it was cute to see his surprise. then he asked to wash it off. funny kiddo.



the weekend is upon us.

it's you i like

so henry and i have started watching mr. rogers religiously. he sits in my lap and does not get up until fred has tossed his shoe for the last time and slipped it onto his slender foot.



yesterday the thermometer read a breezy sixty degrees. henry marched in the mud wearing pirate boots two days in a row. jude was rosy cheeked and happy outside watching henry run in circles around my legs.



but it's cold today. my fingers feel it through the window glass.

i should have books coming in the mail today.

ernie is working on an arrangment of "be thou my vision" on a commission for a tuba and euphonium choir. the second verse is stunning and quite impressive. i like to hear him buzzing around in his studio late into the night, humming and plunking out notes on the keyboard. the sounds are muffled through the dining room floor and i can hear him talking to himself but cannot make out the words.

i've decided to teach kindermusik this summer in an attempt to keep my mind working and to make more money to spend garage-sale-like at bradley's bargain barn. there is some interest in this town and if i can get six students it will be worthwhile. henry will take, and jude, if i can manage two kinds of classes. it will be summer and they will be 3 and 1 so the idea is more manageable in my back-flipping brain.

tina come get some ham.

if you've not seen it yet you need to strap on your shoes and winter apparel as necessary and head for your local family video store.



napolean dynamite is my new favorite movie.

"Tina, you fat lard, come get some DINNER!... Tina, eat. Food. Eat the FOOD!"

where'dya get them peepers

i don't know where we got these beautiful kids. i really don't.





it was a lazy weekend. nothing was done at all. maintenance of this house was barely accomplished. we went nowhere, saw no one.

we did eat cheesecake. dad cashed in on the january cheesecake coupon. it was turtle cheesecake which was easy enough to accomplish. next month is raspberry lemon and i'm feeling anxiety about making it. grandma said they used to call cheesecake "idiot cake" for reasons for which we are still scrambling. she kept saying "idiot cake" and "pudding pie" while dad was trying to talk. she belched the words out loudly between bites of the cake/pie/idiocy. she's old now and her skin resembles cheescake, soft and pale and squishy.

stay awake don't go to sleep

yesterday's late nap made for a late night for henry. jude sleeps no matter what (shouldn't jinx it by saying so, i know...) but henry runs until he drops. he was so cute last night, though, bouncing gary in his pouch and singing to him. he's so gentle with gary saying, "oh baby, mommy's here." and kissing on him. i love when henry kisses things, people. they're just about the best kisses on this planet. jude's are a close second but jude's kisses mostly consist of gnawing on my chin or nose while holding my cheekbones in his hands.





my mom and i junk shopped today. we went to "brandon's bargain barn" which is a new place and there had been a break-in so we couldn't rummage. so we went to another spot in town that is more of a consignment shop than a junk heap and i bought a cool indian lamp to hang here or there but most definitely outside in our summer tent. i'm very excited and the thing was only ten dollars so there's really nothing more to say without taking a jump around the living room.

it's the weekend at last. henry cries when ernie leaves for work. it's sad but very cute. i lock the backdoor while reassuring him that poppy will be home tonight, that i know he loves to keep poppy here to play. then we make toast and coffee while jude sits on the kitchen floor gnawing on a spoon.

she said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy

so the boys sleep at once and i choose to sit at my desk, drink coffee and sail the e-bay sea in search of something i probably don't need in the first place.

henry loves to take pictures with the digital camera. he puts the strap over his wrist as instructed and says, "sit here, jude" as though jude is capable of anything else. "sit here, mommy -- hold this." he is very serious about the whole affair and stands still and silent as he waits for the photos to upload and present themselves large in the slideshow.







So I bought me a ticket
I caught a plane to spain
Went to a party down a red dirt road
There were lots of pretty people there
Reading rolling stone, reading vogue
They said, how long can you hang around?
I said a week, maybe two,
Just until my skin turns brown
Then I’m going home to california
California I’m coming home
Oh will you take me as I am
Strung out on another man
California I’m coming home --joni mitchell

while riding on a train goin' west

whisk it and go.



i get the news i need from the weather report, or so it seems. the snow is going, going gone and everything is brown. brown and windy and maybe a little blurry.

the neighbor speeds down the drive in his blue jeep. he knows it's too cold for little boys to be scooting down the alley on blue scooters but he should be more cautious. i think he's the same neighbor who had the freezer full of rotting meat sitting in his yard. ah, america, home of the free (free to be a wreckless driver and a slob to boot).

i took the christmas wreaths off of the balconies last night after my last student skipped down the sidewalk in her pink sparkle coat. in doing so i did something to my right hand that caused my finger to grow a small purple blood-blister, the first of my hand's life, of my life. i obsessively poke at it to see if it hurts yet.

it's wednesday and i'm glad of it. we've no students tonight. we've black beans to be crock-potted and quesedillas to butter and assemble and fry and spinach salad to chop and grate and toss. maybe the boys will be tired tonight and will sleep early so that i can make coffee and eat ice cream on the couch in silence.

blackbird singin' in the dead of night

henry has been pulling his three to four a.m. "let's wake up because i want to run amok through the house" routine. eerrgh.

you'd think he would be tired. you'd think he would crave sleep after a day of movement that would rival an olympic triathlon.



after an hour of rolling around whispering to himself he at last went off with winken and blinken only to wake up at 6:30, his usual perky self. i woke up when he flipped the light on and said, "it's morning, mommy."

and morning it is. sunny and silver. it snowed again last night leaving a smoothness down the driveway and atop the creeper, who sits in the drive, "old and cold and settled in its ways", not to mention a faded, grayish blue. we need to clean out the half of the garage for the creeper so he'll live longer than these eighteen years.

the few talkative birds have spread the word about the new feeder in the neighborhood. i cannot peek out my study window without seeing someone hopping in the feather-printed snow.

it's time to being plotting for a summer garden. it's time to sketch it out and think about seeds and small plants in plastic containers. and when it's time for small plants in plastic containers it will be time for yard tents and night feasts under trees and candles and fly-fire.

this winter funk, snow birds notwithstanding, is starting to get me down.




he would drive down the street in his el dorado

lazy day. we read a lot. henry wore clothes all day, not stripping down at all. it is colder than usual and i think his goose bumps have had enough.

henry colored more than usual. he is obsessive about having me watch him color. he is selective, hunching over the box to find the right crayon. using his left hand he colors from the center of the page outwards with a crayola tornado movement.

tuppence a bag

finally, we've a bird. and fresh snow to boot. it's been snowing since this morning's first cup of coffee and continues through string cheese and crackers, one bottle of water, and four strawberries. it's a cold one, the hot water rushes through the copper pipes in a gurgle. the heat pumps out and i put the kettle on for tea. it's good day for a bird to find henry's feeder.



in hopes my afternoon student will not venture into the blizzard of today i plan a snowy hike with boys and coats, mitten strings and red rubber boots.