Rainbows

The sun has been noticeably absent the past few weeks here in the northeast. But it has made an appearance today. I was shocked to see it shining in the new leaves on the trees when I looked out of the window first thing. Even without my glasses I could see that it wasn't raining.

It's still humid though. I call this "Bad Hair Season". It's time to pull out the paper bag and put it over my head until sometime in September. I have a collection of summer hats. I wear them to keep the sun off my face. The fact that they cover up my fuzzy head doesn't hurt either.

I was aware of my bad temper the past few days. My alter ego, Cranky Bitch, came to visit for a few days. She, along with her friend Bad Mother, were extremely unpleasant to be around. Especially for the offspring. Guilty Mother has since driven away Bad Mother and has been trying to make amends, be more easygoing, laugh, and say "Yes!" to chocolate milk. Maybe Cranky Bitch just had too much caffeine which turned her into Bad Mother. Can't be sure. It's hard to tell them apart some days.

My office window is hung with my collection of prisms. When the sun comes out, there are dancing rainbows all over the place. I love to watch the dancing rainbows. They transform this drab, cluttered offcie space. And they drive Cranky Bitch right out of the house.

It's dorky, but it's true.

To Boldy Go

We have turned our 8 year old into a Trekkie. Or Trekker depending on what you view as the politically correct Trek terminology.

Last summer we watched the original Star Wars trilogy with him (Episodes 4, 5, and 6 for the purists). Then we moved on to Episodes 1, 2, and the animated Clone Wars. He opted out of watching Episode 3. He knew what Anakin's final outcome would be and I guess he just wasn't willing to watch the carnage. Not that watching the Clone Wars seemed to bother him.

What is it with boys and carnage?

For Christmas, the original Trekkie in the household requested the original series on DVD. Santa delivered, and we've worked our way through season one. Junior really likes it and is already on a first-name basis with the primary characters.

He likes to sit in the bathroom and say things like "I canna hold her together, cap'n", followed up by "that's Scottie."

He also refers to the Enterprise at NC-1701.

I think we may have created a monster. We were hoping for more of a thoughtful outcome. As in "let's solve our problems with ideas" rather than photon torpedos. He likes the ideas. He also likes the torpedos.

I didn't watch the original Star Trek. I was a Lost In Space kinda girl. And Bewitched. Who needs technology when you can just wiggle your nose to get what or want, or talk into the air to communicate, or say a little rhyme to summon someone. Calling Dr. Bombay!

I belatedly discovered Star Trek via the Motion Picture(s) and, of course, Star Trek: TNG, and subsequent iterations. So seeing the original series, mostly for the first time, with my Junior Trekker, is pretty damn cool.

He's already planning a line of costumes. And a life size model of NCC-1701.

I don't think the yard is big enough.

Tequila Days

Happy Cinco de Mayo! I'm already off to a poor start with nothing stronger than coffee. None of my tequila-drinking friends are nearby enough to join for margaritas for breakfast. It's just as well. I have some driving to do today and the weather is not conducive to tequila induced driving. Especially since, in my advanced age, tequila makes me sleepy.

I'm not really that old. I don't feel that old. My husband likes to remind me how old he is, thus how old I am by association. This is where my denial muscle kicks in and I refuse to accept the age thing. You're as young as you feel, right? Well, then I'm 23 and I'll be out until 10pm enjoying Mexico's holiday. I'd stay out later, but there's no place to go around here after 10pm.

We're in the middle of nowhere, remember?

However, if I provide some nuts, I'm sure I could get a group of squirrels together. With enough tequila, I could probably keep up with the conversation.