Bounty

Had a very busy weekend. Friday was one of my most favorite days in all the world, the Centenary Book Bazaar. Books, books, books! Cheap books! This is my loot.

I found many, many treasures. I'm trying to decide which one to start first and when I do, I'll change my sidebar. I haven't been curled up with Amy Tan's The Bonsetter's Daughter for quite a while...excellent book by the way.

Friday was also my grandson's birthday...9/11. It sheds a hopeful light on a horribly, tragic day. He turned 2! This is some of his loot.

A great time was had by all at the party on Sunday. When we sang Happy Birthday, he actually blushed and grinned a mile wide grin and put his little hands over his face. It was so sweet!

And now this weekend, I'm off to Talladega, Alabama for a wedding. As with any trip that involves leaving my children behind, I have mixed emotions. My girls are staying here so they won't miss school (and really, they don't want to go...imagine that?) so I'm a little apprehensive about going. Four days. I'll miss them! But I have to admit, it will be nice to spend a few days with Robert, away from work, away from Shreveport. And who doesn't love a wedding?

The Hater Blog

Every creative writing teacher that I've ever had, always says this one thing: Show, don't tell. I get that. I'm supposed to use descriptive language and imagery. Sometimes, though, I just want to tell.

Today, I'm a hater. I have a list of things that I hate. But don't worry or feel like you have to tell me all is well, for tomorrow, it could be completely different! I may love these things! That's how I am. I think I have a little bit of the schizophrenia (that's for you, Lisa).

Melinda's Hater's List:

I hate washing, loading, unloading dishes two to three times a day. Seriously? How many dishes do we need? I don't use that many, hell...I don't even have time to eat most days. Unless it's a handful of something...no dish needed.

I hate laundry. Not so much the loading the washer or the dryer, but the folding.

I hate cleaning. Seems like that's all I do, every minute of the day. But yet, at the end of the day, everything feels yucky. Maintaining. That's all I'm doing.

I hate my bedspread. I want a new one. But then I would have to paint my bedroom and buy new furniture and who has the money for that?

I hate flies. That's reason Number 1 that I won't be sorry to see summer leave.

I hate slugs (that's for you, Diahn).

I hate my pudgy stomach. Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but today, I'm especially unhappy with the pudge.

I hate that I'm a procrastinator. Thus, the pudge.

I hate dogs. Really, shoot me now, animal lovers. I'm not one. They're just someone, or something, else to take care of. Call the humane society.

I hate dust. Where does it come from?

I hate that we live in a country that absolutely idolizes sports. Especially the south. Sports are supposed to be fun. Besides, I feel left out on most Saturdays from late August to mid-January.

I hate the whirring sound that the ceiling fans in my living room make.

I hate door slammers. Easy does it, Bluto.

I hate those Progressive Insurance commercials with the peppy, heavy eye-lined saleswoman. Shut-up, already! It's just insurance! We know we're getting screwed! You can't make it cute! Hello?

I hate the Geico money stack with the weird eye-balls commercial...see the above.

I hate popcorn ceilings. My entire house has popcorn ceilings. Hello, 2009! What's new?

I hate complainers. Yes, I realize the irony.

I hate how some days are insanely busy from dawn to dusk, and yet, nothing feels accomplished. And nothing that was accomplished, has anything to do with me (that's for you, Crystal).

I hate my old, tired mattress. It's been moved so many times, and dropped on highways so many times from said moves, that it has more sags and tears than...well, me, I guess.

I hate people from high school who never, ever, ever, ever spoke to me and yet, keep requesting me to be their friend on Facebook. Like they're collecting snow-globes. Or moths on the ends of straight-pens. Get a life and get out of mine. That means you, Larry Bates!

I hate that my towels keep disappearing. Don't even get me started on socks.

I'm sure I could go on and on, but I hate when people do that (more irony). And besides, I think I've purged enough so that I can possibly sleep...on my tired, crappy mattress.

I promise to negate this list very soon with a things that I love list...I promise. Just not promising when. Might be a few days.

The tide always turns.

Transition

There's a slight smokey, smell in the air. The haze has lifted. Darkness is slowly devouring the evenings, earlier and earlier. I haven't heard the cricket's summer symphony in a week or so. I have visions of pumpkins and sunflowers in my head.

Bittersweet autumn.

Stay as long as you can...

September Rush

Brian and I have been cooped in this house way too long. The girls are back in school, which means evening homework, and ballgames and no more lazy summer nights. So today, after a stressful couple of weeks adjusting to the routine of high school, I decided to take Brian down to the riverfront.

The weather was perfect...felt like fall, but still a little bit of summer warmth left in the day. I thought he might like to play in the water spouts, but no...

It must have overwhelmed him a bit, so he was perfectly content to sit in the stroller and gaze at the dancing water.

Did I mention the weather was perfect? I did. I was so inspired (I love the downtown Shreveport area) that I'm kicking around the idea of getting up at 6:00am and heading downtown for a brisk morning run along the Big Red. For those of you who have read my past blogs vowing to get in shape, get up early, become a millionaire, etc., don't hold your breath. I wish I was that morning, jogger person...maybe one day, when my life is more my own.

Looks like a lovely place to run though, doesn't it? I think so, too. Hmmmm......

Next, we went to the Boardwalk to ride the carousel.

Now, my Little Brian loves horses. He also loves cows, sheep, chickens, goats. I think he's going to be a farmer. That's all he talks about, all day long. COW, he shouts, MOOOO.....HORSEY, he says, NAAAYYYY. Sheep, he bellows, BAAAHHHH.

All....day....long.

However, in spite of his love of farm animals, this is Brian on the horsey carousel...

Very, very skeptical. The whole time on the ride, this is what he looked like. As a matter of fact, this photo was the only time that he moved his head. The rest of the time, he was as still as a statue, only moving his eyes from side to side. When I stopped trying to convince him that was this was the most fun he had ever had in his life and laid my hand on his chest, his heart was about to leap out of his tiny chest. He was petrified. Literally.

But we had a great day.

I had a Grandma day! For the first time in the year and a half that we've been raising the little guy, I got to be a fun Na-Na. We even went to Build-A-Bear and built a H-O-R-S-E-Y, whom we created a birth certificate for and promptly took to lunch, at Fudruckers.

Don't judge me, people.

We had chicken fingers and french fries and H-O-R-S-E-Y had a place at the table. Brian high-chair-danced while he ate and fed his new friend. I did take pictures, but my camera died, so, you'll just have to use your imagination.

He's the coolest little guy that I've ever known...