everyday is mother's day here at three day blog

Since I missed a good opportunity to post on Mother's day....I will inflict a post on you now. This didn't happen on Mother's day but it is about my mother.
I know...
I don't even make sense to myself.

The other day my mother and I were having a deep, earth changing conversation when it suddenly turned to poetry.
I won't say that my mom changed the subject to poetry so that she could share her own poems but when she said "hey, let's talk about poetry...want to hear mine?"
...the conversation naturally drifted there.
I was a bit hesitant to listen, so I tried to hint as gently as I could with: "mom please don't read me any of your poetry...you know I hate that crap."
My mom, who always tried to teach me perseverance, replied "you are my daughter so you have to listen to it...in fact if you don't, I may just read you some of my short stories as well."
So as she started in on the first poem I tried to be a gracious listener.
I really and truly tried.
I am just a terrible person though.
The more emotionally distraught the poems were, the more they made me laugh. These were written in complete desolation of mind and spirit...they were hilarious.
I still say she asked for it, though.
I warned her.
I noticed there where some recurrent themes that showed up many times in her work such as: emptiness, heartbreak, vacant souls, mirrors---both unbroken and shattered, lost sanity. Oh the heartbreak of a soul shattering loss of sanity.
Well... you get the idea. But just in case you don't, I would like to give you a sample.

I would die for you. Perhaps I already have. Slowly selling parts of my soul, the pain is unbearable. I am in ecstasy. I am in hell.

It goes on from there but I was laughing so hard at the first two lines that I couldn't breathe.
Let this be a warning to anyone who may want to share their poetry with me. Unless you are Edgar Allen Poe, I kindly say to you: shove it.
I tell you, my poor mom...she has to put up with a lot (with me being normal and all...hee hee...just kidding mom.) I ended up embellishing the poem a bit for her and even had her chuckling to herself about it.
Here is the first part of the poem once again but with my additions.
I personally think it lends something to it.

I would die for you. Perhaps I already have. wait.... let me check... nope... still here.

Anyway to make a short story long she doesn't really share her poetry with me anymore.
Sometimes Mom's can be weird that way.

gemelos

Is it just me, or does my son resemble
Gilbert Gottfried?

Siqueiros, Orozco, Tamayo and Anthony

My son Anthony, it turns out, is a genius. It is always comfortable to have at least one of these in the family.
And since it very apparently wasn't going to be me---I am glad that one of my children is.
I have for you exhibit A:


At first glance it appears to be the typical scrawl of an average 6 year old.

Not so, though. Take a second look and the genius of it gradually comes into focus.
First you have the main part of the picture which shows a painter--as evidenced by the objects I have pointed out.


Here I have circled the easel as to draw your attention to the fact the painter is at work on a self portrait.

In this other circle, which is rather difficult to see, there is a second painter painting his own self portrait. Now he is dealing with the subject of infinity... I know, right?


And if you notice on this last circle...all this genius can be had for a mere one dollar!


I bet you were thinking he wouldn't charge me, his own mother. But if you know Anthony then you already know he made me pay.
I think it might be because he loves sumbuty els.

go away

Two weeks ago I had an open house. It was wildly successful. Well... it was successful if you expect no one to actually buy your home... We did get quite a few people, though....and I am not even counting the neighbors or previous owners. We had a Realtor tell us that ours was the best home he had been in all day. My thought at that moment was "good thing he doesn't know that on any given day this house is typically held together by spilled cheerios and dirty laundry." I also would bet good money that it was the smallest house that he had been in all day, as well.

I thought it would be a swell idea to make my mom bake some cookies and brownies and offer coffee to lure in the suck---er I mean possible buyers. It worked like a charm. By the time that my mom and I had finished the last of the goodies--we were both committed to buying the house.

So since it was such a blast I am doing it again...this Saturday.

Anyone want any cookies?

They are free...

...with every house purchase.



The house of "Threedayblog" fame~




Nerds at work


Yes Susie...I know my basooms are having themselves a little peepshow...

--that's special, just for you.

oh...so that's what you needed them for.

Here is why I required corn torntillas.......





I don't know which was better...the tacos or the sweet taste of success, cooking an authentic Mexican meal....it was delicious... One out of 300 ain't bad, right?

say what?!?

• Edgard: Hi...so I am getting out of here. I'm on my way home.

• Me: okay...hey can you stop by the store and get tortillas? I would have picked them up but I thought we had some in the freezer....they must not have made it through the great freezer debacle of '07.*

• Edgard: Sure, I can get some corn torntillas.

• Me: What did you say?

• Edgard: Torntillas.

• Me: I thought so.

• Edgard: hee hee hee

*The great Freezer Debacle of '07: in which Edgard, in a fit of organization, threw out everything that was good in the freezer and left all the bad stuff.

double header

So I have been playing around with the header on my blog since , as everyone knows, there isn't much to do when you are selling your house. I would love some input on my new design. For those of you first timers to three day bloglandia, or the chronically unobservant---like me---here is a picture of the old header:




And for those of you who are serially unobservant or the people who are just too lazy to scroll up---like me---here is the new header:



So leave me a comment if you like it....or a comment if you don't. If you have any ideas I will take those too. Heck, if you want to talk about great aunt Marge's gout, I am up for that, as well. We take comments of all shapes and sizes...just not the prejudiced ones. We're kind of boring that way.

irene longstocking

I tried braids in Irene's hair and found that I don't need the wire for the Pippi Longstocking look.

...mugging for the camera...

quotage

I want my children to have all the things I couldn't afford. Then I want to move in with them.

~Phyllis Diller~

you know you missed it

Because I know how much you all must be lamenting the loss of book love weekend, I have decided to bring it back. Please, please...no tears. No amount of begging will talk me out of it...and you will just end up embarrassing us both. You will simply have to put up with it. So without further ado:

This is my bedside table. This is where I do the bulk of my reading...well...not on my bedside table. I usually do my reading in bed right next to the table. It's a bit more comfortable that way. If you are a reader, then you know why every time I see a pile of books like this, I grin to myself like an insane bag lady.


I wanted to address a request that I had in my comments from Rachel (who is heading up her own book club) over at Like a Star, as well as Ritamae at Ritaville Perspectives. They were wanting me to post a list of recommended books. I will defintely do that... as long as everyone understands that I am the oddest person alive in what I like to read. That being said...I will make one soon. I also had some nosy güey ask me what particular book I was talking about when I wrote that post.
Honestly, it was just a disconnected thought I had at that moment. It just really struck me how much you can become involved in a good book. I have had many that made me feel that way. If I happen to be reading one that I can't, or don't want to, put down I will lug it everywhere. Even if I know that I won't have time to read it. It is comforting just to know that it is there. See? I am an oddity.

now what?

I don't know what to do with myself now that all the hoopla from my birthday has died down. Life seems so flat and meaningless.

my turn

I am now aged and decrepit.
Today I turn 30.
I remember after my dad turned thirty, my mom would say that it was harder for him to get drumming jobs because he was too old. I am...now...too old to get drumming jobs. I don't play, but still...there is something that sucks about knowing you are too old to do something.

In actuality I do know how young thirty is. It just will take some getting used to...this knowledge that I sound old to anyone still in their 20's.

Young punks!

My mom got me one of those booklets that showed me what was going on the year I was born. I don't know about you, but my birth year (1978) was a bit hazy to me. She all but ripped the booklet out of my hands and kept saying "oh yeah, do you remember that?" ...no mom, actually I don't remember that...I was to busy processing milk that year. What they really need for those booklets is to go by decades. I needed a do you remember the 80's... That I remember all too plainly. And if I didn't remember them, my mom captured it all on camera for blackmail memories sake.

My dad got me several things...two of which are silent movies. (Broken Blossoms and City Lights) Do you think he is trying to tell me something? To be fair I had them on my amazon wishlist so no hidden meanings there. I don't know, yet, what Edgard got me but I know that he is taking me to dinner tonight. And my best friend, Susie, decided to shut my incessant, blatantly obvious, hinting up by taking me out to lunch today. I don't know how she happened to think of such a wonderful idea!

So you may have noticed that the last time that I posted was Edgard's birthday. Yes, it is true, our birthdays are exactly one week apart. It is like one long fiesta over here for birthday week.

...some obligatory birthday girl pictures...

My mother's description of me as a newborn was "a chimpanzee with a hangover"...I don't know what she was talking about...I look like an angel....


The first time that Edgard saw this picture when we were dating he started laughing uncontrollably. When he finally caught his breath, he told me he was laughing because I looked just like the character in that old Cher movie...Mask....



...while he was laughing, I was thinking: "yuck it up jackass, our kids are gonna look just like me."



Mask part deux

zapo verde eres tu

So it is the husband's birthday today. I mean my husband, of course. He will be the ripe old age of 33. He acts a lot younger though...like at least 31. I have tried all my feminine wiles on him to try to get him to stay home from work on his birthday. He really wants to, but he has a really good work ethic. It must be his advanced age that makes him this mature. I have a bad work ethic. But I am very good at procrastination. For example, the fact that I don't have a gift for my husband yet. Maybe I can make him a homemade card. He always seems really excited when the kids make those for him. I should be able to get away with that too, right?
Well whatever happens for his birthday I just want to say:
Feliz Cumpleaños y gracias por compartir un año mas conmigo.
¡Te amo!

rachel on reading

Every time I finish a book, especially a good one, I have a sense of loss. As if I just realized I am homeless and I look around in a daze, saying to myself "now what?"

Just thought I would share that.

Yeah...I don't know why, either.