I have tried to convince myself of this since I was a child. Now, as an adult living with four sticky children, "a wanna be full-time farmer" husband, and a sometimes sticky dog, I still don't believe it.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Sometimes all it takes to remind me that it ain't that bad where we live is:
A walk down the lane with my four-legged friend,
while ignoring the museum that is somebody else's pride and joy,
a quick check of this year's wheat crop,
seeing old things in wild places,
stopping to appreciate the wonder,
from a view we don't typically take the time to see,
As a child I would sit on my hands, palm side up, to try to get the sticky off them. This was especially important to do after eating an orange. Then in the next breath I would pour Elmer's glue all over my palm, spread it thinly, and wait for it to dry. Once it was dry I would carefully peel it off and then bury it in the flower pot outside. I've learned to use soap and warm water, my oldest son has a fascination with glue, I still can't find pants that "fit", I would like to burn all socks and bras (except of course those that I wear to run), and if I didn't run everyday I would need to be medicated, heavily, with either Prozac or chocolate. Then I really would have a difficult time finding pants that fit.