Just Another Day

When I first began blogging, I didn't tell anyone but my husband. In those first heady years, I didn't feel the need to share what was my supportive, lovely blogging community with my family. I remember being rather obsessed with blogging, the writing, visiting other blogs, and getting to "know" people. As much as anyone can "know" people online, although I have had the privilege of meeting many of my bloggy friends, and they are every bit as fabulous (usually even moreso) in person. But still, for some reason, I never told them. I very recently told my sister, who I pretty much tell EVERYTHING. I think she was a bit shocked to hear of my secret online life, which with being Captain of the OC Metblogs, writing professionally for my other site, and this lil ole thing that started it all, was pretty large. Sometimes I catch myself starting to talk about the things I've written or read on the blogs when I'm with my family, and I have to bite the wo

My sister had told me that she was going to visit a yoga class with her friend, you know, the kind where the friend wants to drag you along because it's free and supposedly more fun than sitting at home. Although most of the time, I would beg to differ. Anyhoo, she was thinking the whole thing was going to be pretty funny, because even though she has always been active, she is not flexible. And by that I mean even in her physical prime, she could never touch her toes. I was talking to my dad and mentioned my sister's impendeng embarassment experiment in yoga, and reminded him of how unflexible my sister is. "Oh," he said, "She's not unflexible, she just has short arms." It took me a minute to process that and I dedided to spare my dad a disagreement and moved on. However, I told my sister what he had said, and of course we couldn't stop laughing because who ever heard of someone not being able to touch their toes because their arms were too short

Spring school portraits were taken a while ago, and I had allowed Mr. P to choose the background he liked best to pose with. I figured that if he were enthusiastic about the fake location he was supposed to be in, he would not have as fake a smile as he seems to be displaying in photos lately. Ever the lover of the outdoors, he wanted the scene of him standing ostensibly on the shores of an unnamed lake, with blue sky, mountains, and grasses rounding out a very pastoral setting. When we got the pictures back, I showed them to Hubba-hubba. "Why is my kid standing in the middle of a swamp?" I guess we won't be ordering any.