Glory
Am I the only person in the world who thinks, "thank goodness it's Monday, I can sleep in"? Cause I do. I had this Sunday deliciously off, but of course any Sunday off still involves getting up to teach Sunday school. But Monday? Monday I can sleep in. And Tuesday, too. And so on.
I had a dream where, if I remember correctly, there was some connection between rubbing my feet together and turning pages in a book. I get weird when I sleep, and any repetitive motion like that (or tossing & turning) takes on added meaning.
I can't resist with the pictures, so there will be more, okay? Don't try to stop me.
Sunday afternoon my sister called me from Strawberry Fields. Someone was playing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" on his guitar, and when she heard "Lucy" she looked up before she realized it was just the song. Anyway, she called me, and I was at Saturday Market (and Sundays, too, don't you know) perusing some socks. The socks were intended for an internet friend. Don't make fun of me, I have internet friends. And we give each other socks. Anyway, I was suddenly overcome with sock altruism, and had Lucy pick out a pair of socks over the phone. The sister, she only wears Converse. She needs some good socks for the coming winter. So the socks are going with my mom on a red eye flight to New York, where they will grace my sister's feet. Ah, socks - how I love fall.
At the moment I'm celebrating the cool weather with domestic glory - pumpkin bread. My love of pumpkin bread grows by the season. I grabbed a bread pan off a high shelf (while wondering why the bread pan triplets had been separated) and discovered, to my shock and amusement, that it appears to have been unwashed after its last use. Um, Katy? I know you're engaged and all but I think we still need to wash our dishes...
Excuse me, but I must get back to my preheating oven.
I had a dream where, if I remember correctly, there was some connection between rubbing my feet together and turning pages in a book. I get weird when I sleep, and any repetitive motion like that (or tossing & turning) takes on added meaning.
I can't resist with the pictures, so there will be more, okay? Don't try to stop me.
Sunday afternoon my sister called me from Strawberry Fields. Someone was playing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" on his guitar, and when she heard "Lucy" she looked up before she realized it was just the song. Anyway, she called me, and I was at Saturday Market (and Sundays, too, don't you know) perusing some socks. The socks were intended for an internet friend. Don't make fun of me, I have internet friends. And we give each other socks. Anyway, I was suddenly overcome with sock altruism, and had Lucy pick out a pair of socks over the phone. The sister, she only wears Converse. She needs some good socks for the coming winter. So the socks are going with my mom on a red eye flight to New York, where they will grace my sister's feet. Ah, socks - how I love fall.
At the moment I'm celebrating the cool weather with domestic glory - pumpkin bread. My love of pumpkin bread grows by the season. I grabbed a bread pan off a high shelf (while wondering why the bread pan triplets had been separated) and discovered, to my shock and amusement, that it appears to have been unwashed after its last use. Um, Katy? I know you're engaged and all but I think we still need to wash our dishes...
Excuse me, but I must get back to my preheating oven.
posted by Jess at 12:25 PM
3 Comments:
I think the sock tradition is cool -- it's nice that you give each other socks. Pumpkin bread -- I haven't made pumpkin bread in a long time -- I need to find a diabetic recipe so my husband can eat it.
Well, the socks were part of the sock swap. But I do also have friends (not from the internet) who are part of our sisterhood of the traveling tights...speaking of, when do I get the tights, dear roommate?
Ah, but it was whoever made bread last who neglected to wash the pan. Or who took it out of the dishwasher but didn't notice it was dirty. I suppose it was from your pre-engagement period.
Post a Comment
<< Home