This post has no point.
There. I warned you. Read on if you dare. It’s simple a smattering of thoughts, pictures, and what nots. I believe all of these items deserve mentioning, but none of them can form a post all their own. They’re not strong enough, so I’ve banded them together. A conglomeration of smatterings that have no point and no purpose… but they have each other.
Every boy should be so lucky as to holster his squirt gun in his cowboy boots.
Here’s the girl. Apparently, she’s been eavesdropping on my piano lessons.She told me they were Middle Cs. I was so stomping proud that I didn’t dare correct or refute. They look like Middle C’s to me!
If you’re looking to take a gander at some clever craftiness, please click
and take a look at the cards my cousin made. I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love (with a wonderful guy) (props to the one who can name that quote) and I ordered some from her. I get giddy just thinking about getting original tweets in the mail. Squealing giddy.
While driving the other day, I snapped a picture with my camera phone. Camera phones, as we know aren’t all that amazing. Keep that in mind when you look at this picture. Try and see what I saw. The sun was beginning to set, and just as I came over a hill, the sun hit that PERFECT place on the horizon where it illuminates everything with gold in what feels like an instant.
Nothing gold can stay. That’s why I snapped a crappy picture.
Isn’t that NICE? Look at all that! Miles and miles and MILES of just… fresh air. I love the feeling of being able to breathe. It’s all very Dixie Chick.
I wanna be the only one, for miles and miles. ‘cept for MAY-BAY you and that… simple smile.
I love where I live. Desert? yes. Ugly? absolutely not. The only downfall in having miles and miles all around is that I can’t take a fencing class or live out my whacky dream of playing Miss Hannigan in a stage production of “Annie.” But I’ll live. The fresh air is rather a great comfort.
Here’s another to add to the “She Posed Like That” pile:
Here’s them by a mural that I love on account of my obsession with history.
Please note the way my son is clutching his behind. He lives with his hand attached to the back of his pants to hold them up. You should see him run sometime.
Next to the mural were some tiny purple flowers (weeds) and Lacy put some in her hair. Not to be outdone, my son asked if I might put one in his hair. He gave me the flower he wanted in his hair, and like a good mother… I obliged. I mean, as best I could, I obliged.
Yesterday, I sat down at my computer for just a few minutes and ended up running into a thousand great things. Two hours later, I emerged a changed woman.
I wanted to share part of it with you. I already did, if you clicked the link to my cousin’s cards above. Here’s a little something more in the form of my friend’s labor story. If you’ve ever had a child, you’ve got to read it. If you’ve ever been bothered by a dirty shower, you’ve got to read it. If you’ve ever done squats, you’ve got to read it. If you’ve ever seen “Oklahoma!” you’ve got to read it.
And the last of all the smatterings is a couple pictures of my Beehives. We had a little out-of-the-box talent show on Wednesday with all of the young women. A few examples of talents include: toe popping, back bending, baton twirling, and pogo stick hopping. Our beehives did a “magic” show where they performed obviously not-magic magic tricks. They wore matching pink capes and they looked adorable.
One of the girls sang along with Miley Cyrus to that party in the USA song (my finger slipped just now and typed “USD” I laughed for a good thirty seconds over that). Because I forgot my camera (like a FOOL) I was forced to use my delaying camera phone, but I did get this picture:
And it makes me happy every time I see it.
Thank you, thank you.
*bowing*
Also: South Pacific. Not my favorite R&H, but still a good one. And it’s the only film I’ve ever seen that made me want to sport a pair of white booty shorts.
White booty shorts?! Haha! That killed me! South Pacific doesn’t have my vote for favorite, but I give it props. It is quotable. And I do happen to sing “I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair” at least once a week. Get the picture?
Darn. Laurie beat me to the quote. That was the play that Steve and I did when we started dating, so although I still don’t love the show (pretty boring, that one), I do have a soft spot in my heart for it.
And: I need your real address. I have something I want to send you for your “funny bone” posts. I tried to take a picture with my camera phone (again, like you said–not good), and it wouldn’t focus enough, so I’ll just send it to you–along with a real live letter–if you give me your address. You have my e-mail, no?
And: (sorry, I guess this comment is kind of my own little “smatterings”) I loved the picture of the golden time of day. Living up here is just–wonderful. In it’s own desert-y, open way.
How funny that Trenton holds his pants when he runs! Dusty used to do the same thing! That is why the missionaries used to call him “No Butt” Deets. Ha!