Pumpkins

This past weekend, T and I made trip to one of our favorite places in New Jersey.  On the way home, we stopped by the madness that is a New Jersey apple and pumpkin farm on the weekend before Halloween.  Amongst the chaos, the pile of pumpkins charmed me.

That’s happy!

Real Live Conversations with T: Garage Sale edition

The backstory:  T and I occasionally enjoy checking out garage sales and swap meets.  Though we’ve never found anything of real value, we do bemoan “the one that got away", a rotating list of the ridiculous things people try to sell.  Most notably, we regret our that giant bag of clown doll heads that we failed to snap up at a garage sale in Pennsylvania last year.  This weekend, my town had a town-wide garage sale.  That’s a lot of junk to check out and in one driveway we found a collection of glass specimen jars.  I was horrified but T could immediately see their value.

T:  Is your parole officer hassling you about urine samples?  Good news…..with these jars you can collect your urine when it’s convenient for you!

We didn’t buy the jars and if the rest of the weekend is any indication, T is having a hard time swallowing her disappointment.

Bucky!

One of the things that T and I have on common is the fact that we both lived in the Midwest.  Among other things, that means we both have some experience with the Village Inn.  Having a stock of quality Village Inn stories is an advantage when it comes to winning my affections.  And being able to produce Bucky Cakes doesn't hurt either.

Sunday

On Sunday mornings at my house, T and I wake up but don't leave the bed, instead bringing books and computers into the fold.  I drink prodigious amounts of coffee, read, and troll the Internet.  T plays computer games.  We check out Post Secret together.  We whisper our conversations and laughter because JT is still snoring away in the room next door.  Inevitably, the cats join us to get some petting and affection.

It doesn't last for more than an hour.  Invariably, the cats leave or the boy wakes up and the rest of the day begins. But in that hour, I am reminded that all is happy in my world.  The people I love are nearby, the coffee is warm, and the living is easy.

Real Life Conversations with T: Condemnation edition

The backstory: I have a neighbor who sets off his car alarm nearly every Saturday morning.  And it's not a quiet alarm.  No, it's a honking, blaring, 8:10 am call to arms.  And the car's owner seems stunned when it happens, so we hear the alarm run through the cycle a couple of times before the offender finally manages to turn off the noise. We heard it this morning.

Car:  Honk, honk, honk.

T:  Damnit, that alarm goes off every Saturday. If that guy can't handle the technology,  he can't have a car.  He goes back to a horse and buggy. 

And then we're laughing while the horn is still screeching.  And I'm reminded why this girl won my heart.

Home Improvement Weekend

The charming T, who seems to be a glutton for Sassafras-style nonsense, was a home improvement machine last weekend.  She installed a new front porch light fixture.

The old one was well beyond repair, not to mention modern electrical safety standards.

The new fixture features clean glass, less bugs, and both light sockets work!  Fancy.  Also: not a fire hazard. Ahem.

She replaced some window screens torn by certain feline attackers.

Let the record reflect that I wasn't completely useless.  Home improvement efforts always earns a Sunday supper.

And a tasty one, at that.  We plan to take it easy this weekend.  T has earned a rest.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Donner Party Edition

The backstory: In recent weeks, JT has been involved in a trifecta or physical activity-eating-growing that strains the boundaries of my grocery budget, not to mention the length of his pants (let me just say it now: thank heavens for the coming of shorts season). The result is that life in my home is accompanied by the constant sound of a basketball being bounced in the driveway. Except when that sound is interrupted for the sound of the pantry doors being opened and closed as a hungry boy seeks sustenance. Saturday morning his baseball team participated in the Little League opening day parade. Afterward, we got breakfast at a local diner and then returned home. Mama took a nap (that parade started at 8 am on a cold Saturday folks, cut me some slack); JT went outside to play basketball. Two hours later found me still tucked under the covers of my bed, having this conversation with the boy.

JT: I'm hungry.

Mama: Ok.

JT: Will you make me some lunch?

Mama: You had pancakes and bacon just two hours ago.

JT: I'm hungry. Can I eat your ear?

Mama: All right, I get the point. I'll make you a snack.

JT: Well make it snappy, lady, or I'll have to eat your leg.