Patience is its own reward

I so wanted to get this picture. My son, paragon of patience here, indulged his momma. This fun picture is my reward. I took many pictures that afternoon, some amazing, some beautiful, one in particular, practically miraculous, but this one was what I wanted, and he was a sweetheart to patiently bear it while I shot and adjusted, adjusted and shot.


a little whimsy in thirds

Getting around to a little spring clean up with this little guy. Reminds me to enjoy the moment. What tickles your whimsy bone?



speaking of hope, fear, and daring…

nanoThis is what NaNoWriMo looks like around here. You might see the text in the background — but what I’m talking about is the stress eating.

Ice cream.

For when nothing else will do.

I’m not going to lie; that sad little block of Heath Klondike has nothing on this.

What’s your poison?

laundry, and a therapeutic poem

I’ve got a new poem up at Catholic Lane. This one is about the laundry. I whine so much about it that I vented about the procedure, especially a little honesty about having to reset the dryer because I forget the clothes. Do you ever do that? I admit I suffer moments of homemaker angst when I acknowledge I’m not Suzy Homemaker. And then I get over it, believe me.

Anyway, there’s ultimately a little joy in the task, even if it does come at the end when I roll around in the freshly laundered towels.

You can read it here.

in which I celebrate Pat, Mad Housewife wine, and roses

This afternoon I teased Pat Padley because he was excited to appear in a blog post today. I told him that he appeared in my blog months ago, and nary a peep from him. Here’s the picture:

I asked these goobers to pose for me, and this is what I got

He claims that I called him a goober and that doesn’t count, so here’s another one — one of my favorites from the CNMC MMX. Pat and Steve were having too much fun:

So there, Pat. Now you just have to find someone else to post your mug, and you’ll have a hat trick 🙂

In other news, I picked up a bottle of Mad Housewife Cabernet Sauvignon the other day. I totally did it because of the name and a timely visit by my mother-in-law. It was supposed to be funny…ok. Whatever.

Anyway, a sudden storm and frankly, a lack of interest in anything other than fooling around on Twitter led me to popping the cork. Oh! It’s actually pretty good. I paid about $9 for this bottle, and it’s just fine, thankyouverymuch.

too hilarious
the cork says "dishes can wait! dinner be damned!"

So the wine is pretty good, for a cheap wine (defined by Rachel Balducci as anything under 10 bucks, but not quite the 2-buck-chuck that seemed to appall the distinguished Sarah Vabulas). CatholicDrinkie should take notice: it’s not a bad little table wine.

So here’s to the ladies and gentlemen (and Jerry) who drink virtually with me on Twitter. A toast to getting together in real life and clinking the glasses!


And finally, the rose explosion continues in the back yard — there are tons of little buds celebrating their own little porch party this fall, and so I’ll take advantage of the title of the post and present this to another Pat, who often makes me smile, kind of like the rose explosion.

October 12 of 12

Here’s my day. Uneventful, I know. It started off with some laundry and coffee while watching the woodland creatures in the back yard (note the deadheads on my roses — can’t remember the last time I weeded). Then went on a wacky adventure with the teens after church. Ended up at some Children of the Corn maze in the middle of nowhere. Tried desperately to be annoyed and put out, but had a delightful time. Click on the pics to see them bigger.