Seven Quick Takes
1. I'm sure all of you have been on pins and needles -- waiting with baited breath, no doubt -- to hear the fate of my half-shorn eyebrow. First of all, let me state for the record that my friend Patti claimed it was not nearly as dramatic as reported. I beg to differ, but then I spotted it through a magnifying mirror. Anyway . . . it was all coming back nicely and then suddenly I had one stray hair jutting out perpendicular to my face -- a wild hair as it were. An interesting term that. I googled Wild Hair, wondering if it were Wild Hair or Wild Hare. I can imagine a Wild Hare, but, it turns out, Wild Hair is actually Wild Hair, and, oddly enough, it often times refers to a Wild Hair up one's, ummm, euphemism. I would make some flippant comment about how, exactly, this happens, but, you know, the more I strike a pose of revulsion and alarm, the more likely the object of my shock and horror is to come home to roost. Mostly I'm thinking about things in relation to my children, but still. A Wild Hair? I'd rather have a Wild Hare.
2. And what, precisely, does baited breath mean? I'm almost afraid to google that one.
3. So when we returned from Michigan, and I came to the realization that a) we had five (count 'em FIVE!) swim team free weeks of summer vacation looming before us and that b) Tim's lone prospect for late summer employment had turned to naught, well, I confess, I was more than a little worried. Five weeks later, it looks like we made it. And except for two particularly gruesome afternoons, it's been good. (You can say that when it's about to come to a screeching halt within forty-eight hours.)
4. I have one pair of shoes and a few boxes of Kleenex to round out the back-to-school shopping. My good friend Laurie generously offered to hem Kolbe's pants. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
5. So, we're in the midst of a room switcheroo that will take about two months to complete. That may be optimistic. I opened three boxes of books that have remained nearly untouched since our wedding, lo, almost seventeen years ago. Time has a wonderful way of winnowing the chaff from the wheat. I whittled three boxes down to one, and, in the process, found a pristine copy of The Screwtape Letters as well as a book by Saint Therese I was ready to order from Amazon. I sold one box at 2nd and Charles and, to my credit, left the store with just two small items -- far, far less than I brought in. Victory! We dropped a second box at Goodwill. While paring down and culling is an ongoing, job -- really, just part of household management -- I've sensed a unique grace on us this go around. Dave and I are both ready to purge, baby, purge. That's been nice.
7. Why is it that forts are so fun at 10:00 in the morning and so overwhelming at 6:00 in the evening? That, friends, is the question. And the answer is one small glass of wine and then lights out early for the Dolin crew.
Head over to Jen's to add your Quick Takes.