my loveys

Don’t mind me, I’m just breaking up the Random with a random post.

I was going to do the Reading List for March, but to be honest I haven’t taken any photos for it, and the last three books I’ve read were on the Kindle, so I didn’t have anything to shoot anyway. You should read Don’t Vote It Just Encourages the Bastards by P.J. O’Rourke. I love him. That’s what I’m reading right now. Which I think is the Squirrel Report’s book club read this month, which I think is why I had it on my list. Yes, that sounds right.

Go read. Or don’t. You could go shop instead. Have you visited my new shop? So many cool things to buy there …

But also read, because books are good for your head. And P.J. O’Rourke is funny. And I’m bossy.

Being a big sister is tough.

We got this great onesie from my friend Amanda. (Actually we have two of them, because I ordered one also.) It says “My mom doesn’t want your advice.” I told the Mister on Sunday that we need another one that says “My mom doesn’t want your advice, and neither does my sister.”

Miss W has been overjoyed about Stormageddon’s arrival from the very beginning. She cannot wait to be a big sister. She can’t wait to help out with everything (except diapers, she does not do diapers), to teach the new little one all about the coolest, grossest things in the world, to read stories, and go on adventures. She already knows Stormageddon is going to be so overwhelmingly CUTE she is going to just literally cry.

The problem is the getting there. Miss W is finding that all kinds of well intentioned adults have all kinds of well intentioned life lessons to teach her about being a big sister. What well intentioned adults don’t remember about being 10, is that all these well intentioned lessons come across as criticisms to a girl who didn’t know she was supposed to know these things. And why would she know these things?

So when a toddler gets his hands on a candle and W happens to be sitting nearby, maybe she doesn’t catch it. But maybe she has no idea she’s supposed to be keeping an eye on this toddler in a room full of responsible, well intentioned adults, because no one asked her to. When an adult points this instance out telling her she “will need to be paying attention to things like this and be responsible because she’s going to have to help her mom!” it comes across a little harsher than people intend. And maybe she doesn’t think about the fact that toddlers think differently than she does, so when she “shows” someone a toy and then takes it back, it isn’t her intention to be mean or to send the toddler into a meltdown. She’s just showing something off. But she’ll learn that lesson too.

There are so many things that well intentioned people have said, and it’s becoming just the tiniest bit overwhelming. People need to relax and give this phenomenal girl a chance to learn how to be a big sister as she goes. Stormageddon isn’t even here yet! Did any one of us get a manual on how to be sisters before our siblings arrived? Or parents for that matter! We know you mean well, but just like with new mothers, when tempted to offer unsolicited advice, perhaps you should instead consider biting your tongue. Please don’t take this personally. You shared with us, so we wanted to share with you.

Miss W is intelligent, kind, generous, and so full of love. Anything else can be learned along the way, just like the rest of us are doing. So thanks, well intentioned adults, but we don’t need your advice.

Miss W had 4H auction duties Saturday, so I snuck (not really) out of the little community center and across the street to shoot the abandoned service station. Happily, the door was wide open. Had there been any climbing, shimmying through lean spaces, or crawling, it would have been impossible right now. I’m pretty pleased with what I shot in there. I love exploring abandoned spaces, and it’s not something I get to do often (mostly because it’s more fun with a co-conspirator).

I was thinking you needed a monthly reading assignment. Like an informal interwebby book club. But no wine, cos I don’t drink that stuff. We can have Scotch though. Or Tennessee whiskey. Maybe some bourbon. Or tea. Tea is good. Especially since I can’t even drink Scotch right now. sigh. You drink some extra for me. I’ll have tea and these tiny cookies. Because who doesn’t like tiny cookies?

But back to the bookish point! We’re starting out on a short month, so here’s a long book: Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry. I’ve heard nothing but good things. The first time it was recommended to me was by Fee Waybill many years ago, though I have no memory of how we got on the topic. (Here is a terrible photo of Fee playing with our dog. She was a good dog.) He counts the series among his favorites. Since then, several other people have mentioned it. I got my copy from Alibris for 99 cents. Plus shipping. Which, all together, was still less than $5.00 total.

So skip a trip to Starbucks and pick up a copy. Or don’t. I don’t care. It’s not like there’s going to be a quiz. Sheesh. I’m going to read it, with or without you. Just as soon as I finish Hidden America, which I’m reading for work. (It’s OK, not great. Mike Rowe did it better on Dirty Jobs. mmmmmMikeRowemmmmm)

You’re balking at “assignment”, aren’t you? I understand. Let’s call it a suggestion. I suggest you read this book. There. I have to go stir the chili now. Happy reading.

I love this from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, change the hes to shes. My girl is pretty extraordinarily wonderful.
“I’d think, maybe he truly is something extraordinary. He’s what he is, that’s it. Maybe that makes him strong enough, being what he is.” ~Ken Kesey

These are from our Christmas card shoot. That’s my very first ever pair of Doc Martens she’s wearing.