Rosemary for Remembrance |
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May 31, 2002. Jonquil has moved, and so has the blog. You'll find updates at http://pages.sbcglobal.net/serpyllum/jonquilblog/blogger.html. See you there!
Yet another
stream-of-consciousness journal
Far, far more interesting people:
Rosemary
graphic taken from Mulberry Creek
Herb Farm, which has a wonderful
selection. If I still gardened, I'd definitely be
placing an order.
Comments by: YACCS
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Wednesday, March 20, 2002
My sixth-grade honor student's assigned reading: "Do you know me? I'm Huck Finn. I was in THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER. That book was made by Mark Twain. He told the truth, mainly. He did stretch some parts. That's nothing. I never heard of people who always told the truth." The first paragraph is annotated in pencil in my daughter's hand: "Stupid." My husband: "I can hardly wait until 'African-American Servant Jim' shows up."
The movers are coming Friday. The California purchase is supposed to close Thursday, 3/28. And the local sale, due to close 3/26,. seems to be falling through. The buyer and the buyer's agent and the buyer's mortgage company had neglected to inform us that the purchase was contingent on the buyer's husband signing a separation agreement. Which he has missed repeated opportunities to do, each time without explicitly refusing to sign or authorizing his lawyer to admit that he had not signed. So I am scurrying madly to attempt to preserve the purchase of our dream house. Sunday, March 17, 2002
Daughter stepping out of shower, dripping wet hair hanging to her knees: "I don't like to be vain, but I approve of every single aspect of being me." It sounds nice to be eleven. Saturday, March 16, 2002
We were planning a going-away party for both children. Our son's was a pizza party at home. Our daughter's was at a paint-your-own pottery place. One of her good friends lives in a homeless shelter (a secret only she knows). Me: "You should check if Friend needs a ride. She may not have access to a car." What a world. The good news is, that particular child won't be homeless for much longer; the relative who cares for her has found a job. Monday, March 04, 2002
We came, we saw, we bought a house. I cannot describe how much I love this house. Actually, I can, because I wrote a letter to the seller. (This is surprisingly common in California, although usually it's done when multiple people are bidding for the same house. Yes, they routinely have closed-envelope auctions of desirable houses. You submit your bid to the selling realtor, then the buyer looks at all the bids and decides which s/he likes best. If a house is being sold this way, you try to look warm and winsome, include pictures of the family and the dog (no lie!), and so on, because there will probably be multiple bids at the same price and you want to stand out.) The garden is a delight. The back garden is truly an extension of the house; the deck and the upper terrace provide as much sitting room outside as in. The plantings are cleverly designed to be beautiful both from above and at ground level. We love the combination of decorative and edible plants. If you accept our offer, Jonquil would like to talk to you sometime about what’s planted where and what needs special attention. We’ve seen a lot of kitchens in our house hunt. Many of them have been designed to impress – elaborate finishes, expensive tiles, granite counters. Your kitchen was obviously designed for a cook. The stove is a professional tool; the storage space is well-thought out, and the working space is comfortable. It’s clean, handsome, and inviting. We especially like the living space off the kitchen, because the people who aren’t cooking can sit in the dining room or sitting area and talk to the cook. And then there’s the view. When you look out the living and dining room windows, and when you stand on the deck, you can see the valley spread out before you. There’s a panoramic view of the sky at night. It’s exhilarating to look out at the world. The house itself is nicely laid out. The bedrooms are generous and comfortable; the living room and dining room are large, inviting, and take full advantage of the glorious view. We love your house, and we hope you’ll choose to sell it to us. Oh, also I learned to tat, and mostly learned to net. Tuesday, February 26, 2002
Me, on preteen daughter: "She's intelligent, beautiful, and emotionally volatile. I'm living with Dawn." Saturday, February 23, 2002
Christine Lavin gives wonderful concerts. She's constantly writing new songs and updating the topical references in her old songs. She's warm, witty, and spontaneous, and still has an amazing singing voice at 50. She sang two of my favorite songs, the hilarious "It's A Good Thing He Can't Read My Mind", and the serious "The Kind Of Love You Never Recover From". Happiness was had. Lavin gave away CDs to the oldest and the youngest person in the audience. Daughter was 11. Another little girl was 9. All was nearly lost when I piped up "My son is 8... but he's asleep." Christine decided he qualified. Son, on way to parking lot: "That's the first time I ever won something while I was asleep." I felt bad for the 9-year-old, but that's because I have a lifetime supply of Liberal Protestant Guilt. Son woke up in time for the fire-baton (okay, glowlight-baton) finale. Christine asked if he was still asleep. We said, no, he was awake. She said "He was probably dreaming he was at a concert... then he woke up and WAS at a concert! That kid's gonna need therapy!" |