The Puberty Chronicles

In the spirit of Get Mortified (worth the click), I have decided to do a series known as The Puberty Chronicles, for airing out some of the mortifying aspects of becoming an adult. If you would like to do a Puberty Chronicle of your own, please do. Or, if you would rather have me post it anonymously for you, I would be most happy to. (After I call all my friends and read it to them)


Part I: Middle School Moments
When I was in elementary school, I used to bite my fingernails. My mom painted my nails with some sort of stuff that tastes bad and is supposed to deter you from biting. The problem was, I used to like the taste, so when I was home I would suck the acrid-tasting stuff off my fingers, paint them again, and then suck them some more.

Just another saga in my endless stream of oral fixations.

Then came middle school and I had bigger problems. I forgot all about my nails and looking for pleasantly salty things to munch (I rediscovered this quest in college -- a tale for another day).

In middle school, among the mortification of budding puffies and glasses and waiting to menstruate, there were perms. Numerous perms. Once, my bangs were so hyper that I had to go in the girls’ room and wet them down. After I finished climbing the stall door a few times (for exercise, you know), I soaked my bangs completely and then headed over to the dryer to blow them dry. Alas, the dryer was not working, so I returned to class with soaking wet bangs, which I covered for the entire period with one flat hand. I’m sure nobody noticed.

Another thing I remember from middle school is that the basement level was called The Dungeon, and I never ever wanted to go down there. In fact, I’m rather certain I never did. My twin sister Twirling Girl had a class down in The Dungeon and that made her so very cool. And brave, too. She had all the cool stuff—classes in the scary part of the building, and a class trip to the World’s Fair in Tennessee! What did I have? An oversized dickie, a clog sprain, and an eraser I stole from Mr. Shaw.
I do recall that one of the somewhat exciting things about middle school, grade six, was that there were two eighth graders who would kiss (!) before they got on their respective school buses and went home. They were practically grown up, by the looks of them, and they would actually kiss goodbye just like adults! Wow! I used to time my bus platform arrival to try to catch this magical moment. More often than not, I missed the kiss and also my bus.

The low point of my middle school career was when I got caught throwing toilet paper at the girls’ room ceiling. I feel I have told this before … But anyhow, I had just discovered the joy of ceiling art via papier mache, when in walked the principal and caught me … wet-handed. There was no getting out of this one! Oh, the shame! The shame!!!!!!!!!!! I had to serve a school detention, and I was in this room with all these derelicts, people I had never seen before. Smokers, to be sure. AND the proctor read my offense out loud: Spinnerina M. Girl, throwing toilet paper at the ceiling. Vandalizing the school. Ah ha! Young lady, you may sit right here while you do your time. My red-hot face burned and my ears buzzed with the blood-rush of embarrassment and shame. I was one of them! These ... these animals! These bad, bad boys! I was deeply mortified.

But not as mortified as the time I heard that Beth, an eighth grader in my class, had gone to the movies with a 9th grade boy and he had stuck his finger in her hoo-hah! His finger. Fingers! Plural! Like you could even fit more than one up there, duh! EW! Why would anybody do that? Ever?!?!?!? Luckily, I was on to high school and I never had to hear the answer to that one.

I felt like a repost, so ...

100 Things


1. My first language was Estonian. I still speak, read & write it. All the time!
2. I didn't really speak English until I went to kindergarten,
3. where I learned the word "soon" and thought it meant one o'clock.
4. I thought this until I was 11 years old.
5. Because it rhymes with "soon", you see?
6. My twin sister Twirling Girl has always, always been there.
7. I don’t know what I would do without her.
8. My baby sister Tuuna Taco is my other best friend.
9. My parents are some of the best people I know,
10. And I don't tell them enough, so I am telling them now.
11. Since they read my blog.
12. Which sort of censors me, but that is probably a good thing.
13. I can be gross at your blogs, right?
14. I worry that if I ever meet any of you, you will discover that I am not really as pretty as the persona I have created
15. although I have begun to think of myself as "Spinning Girl" and would probably answer to it if someone called to me.
16. Sometimes I get terribly lonely.
17. Often, I love being alone & doing what I want, when I want.
18. I need to tune my piano so that I can play it.
19. I need to clean my chimney so that I can make bigger fires without fearing that I am going to start a chimney fire.
20. Some pieces of music are so beautiful to me that I cannot contain the emotion I feel when I hear them, and I just cry.
21. I can’t stand most of the music I hear on the radio.
22. There are some exceptions.
23. I have an almost unholy obsession with Yellow Ledbetter and every time I hear those first few hesitant guitar notes, I smile with glee.
24. I had a small alcohol problem once.
25. By small, I mean that it had a short life. Maybe two years of really drinking in a way I felt was out of control.
26. Plus 15 years of wondering if maybe I drank a little too much?
27. I gave up the booze on August 6, 2003.
28. In March of 2004 I drank 3 bottles of wine by myself and scared myself so much that I never want to drink again.
29. In July of 2006 I accidentally took a giant swig of my cousin’s vodka tonic, but only because our cups were identical and it really was by accident.
30. If I drink on purpose, I am afraid I will not stop, ever.
31. I still get mad that something so fun could turn into something so bad, but I’m OK with it and I don’t miss it. It just pisses me off that alcohol was such a mean trickster bastard.
32. I become smitten very easily.
33. Recently I was smitten with someone in my grad class.
34. But he never called when he said he would, so I had my answer.
35. That’s too bad, because I still find him really attractive even though I don’t talk to him much.
36. I am also completely infatuated with Jamwall, even though we have never met, because he gets me and we feed off each other’s sick humor in a truly exhilarating way.
37. Right now, I am imagining Jamwall naked.
38. Are you?
39. Someday, I hope to spend a weekend with him, romping through a condiment village that we have built together.
40. Sometimes I am perfectly happy with my life the way it has gone thus far.
41. But I am always ready for the next big, good thing.
42. I would like to be a mom, though not necessarily give birth.
43. Maybe I just need a pony!
44. Or a dog, a non-pooping dog.
45. Having to pick up shit is the one major thing keeping me from getting a dog.
46. Sharing my living space with a box of urine and shit and giant hair balls is what is keeping me from getting a cat.
47. I had the most amazing cat once, and he will never be equaled.
48. I fear the spider, but only once it has reached a certain size.
49. Spiders of Acceptable Size (SAS) are allowed to live freely in my home.
50. Spiders of Unacceptable Size – SUS-- are thrown outside, not killed, unless they are huge or move very fast.
51. I would probably go crazy if I woke up and discovered an SUS clinging to the tip of my nose with all 8 of its legs.
52. I can honestly say that I love my job.
53. It is like a dream. A job cannot be this perfect, can it?!?!?
54. I sometimes fear becoming debilitated and unable to teach anymore; what would I do then?!?!?
55. I don’t spend much time fearing the future though.
56. Most of my fears are fleeting thoughts, lucky me.
57. Maybe I am stupidly optimistic. That is fine with me.
58. I take life’s little luxuries very seriously.
59. My bed.
60. My coffee.
61. That’s a short list, but those are the two biggies.
62. When I was a child, my favorite place to visit was my grandparents’ house in upstate New York.
63. Sometimes we had to weed the garden, and we had to finish before we could swim.
64. This taught me self-discipline and delayed gratification.
65. I used to pretend I was a poor little slave girl, weeding my little row of carrots in the blazing hot sun.
66. Nothing equals the bliss of a cold swim after you have been sweating in the blazing hot sun.
67. There was (is) a spring-fed pond on my grandparents’ back property.
68. It is stocked with fish that were caught elsewhere & put there by my family.
69. They have lived & multiplied there for 50 years.
70. I used to catch grasshoppers in the meadow and then feed them to the fish.
71. I used to be very good at catching grasshoppers; the most I ever caught was 72.
72. Grasshoppers!!!
73. I fear that one day a swarm of locusts will land on me, as payback.
74. This fear, however, is fleeting.
75. When my family sells my grandparents’ house, I don’t think I will be as sad as I was over the past 10 years, watching it decline from what it once was.
76. Nothing gold can stay.
77. I hope that my parents’ home becomes that way for their grandchildren ... a really special place where you can always go and be happy.
78. I believe it is really important to listen to children and not try to spank too much of their personalities out of them.
79. Like the boy who made the grappling hook; it made me really happy to see that.
80. I can think of 5 teachers off the top of my head who would have said, “put that stupid toy away.”
81. Of course, I teach science, and can justify “allowing” a homemade grappling hook in my classroom.
82. It scares me how little science some people know.
83. I’m a little bit obsessed with Carl Sagan, and rightly so.
84. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is one of my favorite books of all time.
85. I should read it again soon. I tend to reread books I love several times.
86. I have read Lord of the Rings at least 22 times from start to finish, plus countless times of reading just certain parts.
87. For me, rereading a good book is like visiting a place that I love.
88. When I want to escape for a while, I go to Middle Earth.
89. I’m OK with being a total geek.
90. I have amazing tits, so I can get away with it.
91. Are you imagining my tits right now?
92. Go ahead, then. I am OK with being objectified by you.
93. Shit, I forgot about my parents reading this.
94. Sorry mom and dad, sometimes I say dirty things to be funny.
95. Dirty and funny is one of my favorite combinations.
96. Wow, 100 is a lot.
97. I might have dyslexia because I often reverse “tomorrow” and “yesterday” in my speech, regardless of what language I am speaking. I think those two concepts got stored incorrectly in my Wernicke.
98. I am a huge procrastinator, and I did this instead of grading papers.
99. I always feel better after a good day of procrastinating.
100. I’ll feel even better later when I get that shit done. Thank you for reading!

House of Toys

So what do you play with when you don't have a lot of toys in your house? Yesterday my niece and nephew came over, and while I have a few children's toys, they are pretty lame. We soon improvised!

Tupperware and spice jars

Spice rack

Acorns from the back yard

They are designed for lining up!

Buttons

Voodoo toothpick holder

Corks

Lunch at Chocopologie Cafe

Twirling Girl and I went to lunch at this lovely spot called Chocopologie in South Norwalk, CT. It is quite famous for the chocolates, produced by chocolatier Fritz Knipschildt, who has been featured on various networks (most recently a special on the Food Network) for his world-famous treats.

We sat in The Gallery, which afforded us a view of the kitchens, where Easter chocolates were being hand-dipped and boxed.


The Oompa-Loompas tend to be a bit skittish. They don't really like it when you stare, so it's better to look at them with your peripheral vision. Fritz himself was on site, but I didn't snap his picture. What am I, a freaking tourist?!?!? (yes)

The sale & awards shelf in the back. I think this is where they put stuff that they don't want to get rid of, but that would clutter up the front of the shop.

I ordered ginger ale and a pot of tea.

How lovely it all was!

This Oompa Loompa was dipping half-eggs and then sticking them together. This was a task that appeared repetitive and tiresome. I imagine even working with yummy treats gets old after a while.

The display case was tempting.

This lovely photo was in the bathroom.

The eggs were packaged in boxes for shipping.

Our meals were decent; TG had crab cakes ...

I had duck breast on mixed greens. It was overcooked, but the salad was delicious. It had a fig vinaigrette that I'd love to copy.

By far the best part of the meal was the dessert; we each ordered a truffle, and then shared this dessert. It was a crepe with vanilla ice cream, strawberries, and a green peppercorn sauce. If you think those three things wouldn't taste fabu together, guess again! It was unreal.

If you're ever in SoNo (South Norwalk), give me a jingle; we'll meet for lunch in chocolate heaven.

Meditations on a Fleeting Streak of Green (a.k.a. Reposting is in fashion)

I would love to see the Green Flash. Is that too big a request, sir? Hmm? Just once would be nice. One blink of emerald light to last a lifetime.

Is there anything lovelier than the chalk hopscotch scrawled on the sidewalk in front of the pizza place? Who plays hopscotch anymore? Somebody does, apparently … I love knowing that.

What is up with all the kids in wheelchairs in textbooks? I know it’s politically correct and all, but I counted 6 kids in wheelchairs in a textbook with 37 kids pictured. That’s like … a lot%!!!! In a school of our size (1100 kids), that would mean 178.4 kids in chairs. Come on now; let’s be a little more representative of the true population, people. And who wants to see 2/5 of a kid rolling around the halls? Not me. (I’ll explain the math later – shoot me an email and I’ll lay it out in color blocks for ya)

My friend B and I were talking about the childhood truths that come out in blogging, and then she shared that she used to make her boy doll and her girl doll hump. That would be OK I guess, if they weren’t Donny and Marie. Even though you know those two totally rode the pony. At least once.

I don’t really like the Beatles. I never have liked them. I know -- horrible. I have never admitted it before. Now please just punch my ticket so that I can go directly to hell.

My dad is so funny. And so very silly. He never says "bird". He always says "boid". He even went so far as to re-label the buckets of sunflower seeds for the birdfeeder. See? He also says, "when did you first loin of pork?" every time we eat pork loin. I scream every time, but I would miss it if he didn't say it, and wonder what was wrong.

On second thought ... there is no hell. Except the one we make for ourselves. Ditto heaven. This is what I think. Won’t I be surprised when I find out I was so so so wrong.

I think the line “driving the skin bus to tuna town” is one of the funniest euphemisms for sex that I have heard. Likewise, “laying cable” for pooping. Think you can do better?

I made up new words to the Nelly Furtado song “I’m Like a Bird”, and it went like this: “I’m like a turd, I’ll only float away-ayyyy … I don’t know where my home is … I don’t know where my bowl is …” I thought it was the funniest thing ever.

It may seem from this post that I love toilet humor, but generally I think that it is juvenile and I act very holier-than-thou when people break out their poop jokes in front of me.

Oh, and WTF?!?!? This just makes me angry. Ignorant assholes.

I decided it's childish and teen-like to have a crush on Johnny (that'll be Mr. Depp to you) so I have matured. It's all about Matthew MacFadyen now.
Is it me, or does Paula Abdul clap her hands like a goddam seal? I think she is a seal; I found photo evidence. [ps, It's sea lions that clap. not seals, but the word seal is just much funnier]

I sing in the car, but never the melody. I harmonize with every song that comes on. Such is the plight of the alto.

Every week I think, Oh …. I hope I make it to Friday. If I can just make it to 3 pm, I will be fine. Why do I think I won’t make it? Just what do I think is going to happen? I don’t know. I just need to hang in there, is all. Just keep hangin’ in there.

Sundays are for Dad & Daughter Projects

We installed my new chandelier today:

I think it is pretty.

Q & A. Whatev.

If you could choose one vice in exclusion of all others what would it be?
That would probably be gluttony. Or violent sexual love. Is that a vice?

If you could change one specific thing about the world what would it be?
The fact that I am answering these questions. Oh, and the disrupted ecological balance caused by overpopulation of certain species. And that there are Osmonds.

Name the cartoon character you identify with the most?
Calvin. Or maybe Opus.

If you could live one day in your life over again which would it be?
Each & everyone one, without changing a thing. OK, that is a lie. There are too many to choose just one. So maybe I'll just make tomorrow the one that makes up for everything.

If you could go back in history and spend a day with one person who would it be?
Probably this guy.

What is your one most important contribution to this world?
That I can reach out and wrap my hand in your guts, and pull.

What is your one hidden talent that nearly no one knows about?
I can lie backwards on a piano bench and play Bach's Minuet in G with my hands up over my head.

What is your most cherished possession?
Actual object? My treasure chest of photos. Intangible possession? My wit.

What one person influenced your life the most growing up?
My grandfather.

What one word describes you better than any other?
Temperamental.

What is one thing you lost or sold or threw away that you wish you could have back?
Every time you ask me this, I tell you the same thing. It is a secret.

Tits, Teachers, Tendons, & Turkey Chili

[*A highly caffeinated post]

So it's colder than a witch's tit out there--I actually had to wear a hat today! For the first time since last winter! Luckily, it is an especially fabu piece of knit-on-the-Fritz, so I felt extra purty.

Speaking of gifts, a most wonderful package arrived in the mail yesterday, from the Long Beach Sea Hag. There are so many delights within, that I must write a whole separate post about it, and as soon as my camera and my ass thaw out, I will do this. There are tufts of fur. (That's what we in the biz call a teaser)

I do believe I was a very cute child.

Quote of the day: A student told me I looked different today. I said, "Do I look tired and fat? 'Cause that's how I feel." This scored major laugh points, and we are now bonded forever. She'll have to make room though, because all my teats are full with the other 95 needy souls who are sucking me dry.

I love my job! You too can be a teacher, and fill young minds with your neuroses! I'd like to welcome Miss Tits to the ranks -- please do congratulate her.

Where is Monkey? Do you think someone forgot to set his alarm? Do you think he has enough nuts and berries to sustain him through these cold cold days? Do you think his cubs have been born, and have they learned to suckle?

Today I made an enemy at the grocery store. (I say this as if it were a rare occurrence). This lady was behind me, running me down with her cart, and I kept looking over my shoulder at her cart, and I finally stopped and moved over and let her pass. She looked at me as if I had just had a gastrointestinal blowout in church, and said, "Sor-REE!" with this gigantic sarcastic eyebrow. But you see, ever since Twirling Girl rammed my Achilles Tendon with a cart (circa 1975), I cannot have a grocery cart that close behind me. So it wasn't you, per se, whorebag. It was your whoring tendon-seeking cart and its warp speed that irked me.

Speaking of enemies, should I feel guilty about the homeless guy I pass every day standing at my exit off the interstate, holding a sign and staring into the distance as car after car passes him by? What would you do in this situation?

Lastly, I feel that my dad's chili is really the perfect food, and if I could only eat one food every day for the rest of my life, this would be it. Yum.

Morning Exercises

Sometimes in order to lubricate my writing bone, I have to do some sort of little exercise. I will journal at a mad pace for 3 pages (thanks Julia!) when I first get up in the morning. You should see the garbage that comes out (mmm good coffee crows cawing, damn it! Shut the fuck up. Black crows with orange eyes. Orange, I hate that color. I like blue. Blue green purple azure teal turquoise. Turquoisy. Noisy. Your beautiful lips & Oh your brown, brown eyes. Shit shit I have a zit.).

Another exercise is to do dic-flip. I take the dictionary, jam my finger in, and flip to that page. I write down whatever word my finger is on, unless it is a prefix or suffix, then I take the next nearest one. Then I write about it, or what it makes me think about.

You can see that maybe I need to get out more.



green around the gills
When I was younger, on weekends we would go upstate (NY) and visit my grandparents; often, this would include a fishing trip with my dad. We went one at a time, as the boat was quite small! He had a little rowboat. He would always row and I would fish. Sometimes, I would cast my line into a tree, but with experience I got really good at casting sideways so that it would just settle between the low-hanging trees and the water. the most exciting fish to catch is the pickerel. The hardest fish to catch is the American Eel, they pull like a motherf***er and Cannot be held onto, for they are so very slimy. You have to cut their necks and kill them in the boat, or they will wriggle out of your bucket and back into the lake. And yes, we eat them. Smoked! The Estonian word for eel is angerjas (UN-gare-yuz). The best part of fishing was coming ashore. I would have to stand and sort of lean forward so that the bow would elevate somewhat and my dad could more easily drive the boat ashore. We used to call it "the moon ship."



woody
heh heh.


percussive
Before I wanted to be a teacher, I went to school for physical therapy; one of the least pleasant types of therapy was for Cystic Fibrosis, when the patient has to lie on their chest with their head facing downward, and the therapist hammers on their back ("postural drainage and percussion") while they cough up all the mucus that has accumulated in their lungs.

I like the job I chose. Though at times, there is still mucus.



Österreich (Austria)
I had a stamp collection. It was a gift from my uncle, and it came with certain stamps and a huge book to put them in. I still have it! I think some of the stamps might be worth some money by now.

Here are the rest of the words that came up:
seize
tube foot
granary
con brio (with vigor!)
mask
soapstone

I was going to write about all of them, but I easily lose interest in things I begin, despite my best intentions. I need to wrap gifts and drink my coffee. Maybe you can write about them, or do a dic-flip of your own.

'Cuz I need to go out.

Spinning Through the Years: A Photo Journey

Sorting through my parents' and grandparents' albums, I found pictures that I want to share. This was in the days before my new scanner, so they are photos of photos. The technology is primitive, but the motive is grand in scope. Perhaps by seeing who I was, I can understand who I am.

Could my parents be more fabu?!? I love that my dad is wearing his Beethoven sweatshirt. We still have it, somewhere. In this picture they are about ... oh, 12 years younger than I am now. OK, that makes me sad.
1969. Shortly after the first picture, perhaps only minutes later, we two were conceived. I am on the right. Notice how I am always holding on to the things I care about. Also, I am always making a face.

Circa 1970. My twin sister Twirling Girl does not return my affection with quite the same zeal. I believe there may be about four bunny slippers in this photo. My mama has great legs.

Circa 1971. The baking begins. We are very serious about our little pies. TG always has a hairdo and I look like a wild little boy.

1973. There are many important things going on here. 1. My back is to the camera because I am steering the boat! This is a very important job! It is achieved by pulling to the right and left on the railing!!! 2. My mother looks like a movie star; also, these sunglasses, which she has been wearing ever since, are finally back in fashion. 3. Tuuna Taco has arrived, and looks like a little doll. 4. TG is biting her lip is angst, an expression that she still makes often, and it breaks my little heart to see that familiar expression on her tiny little 4-year-old face.

Here, photo evidence that I never brushed the back of my head; a fact I have alluded to but never shown. Do not be fooled by the jauntily placed barrette! Also, rubber boots and cats were important features in our formative years.

The small gnome in this photo is actually TT, my baby sister. I am clutching her because I am very protective and she is my special project (she still is). This birch resides at my grandparents' farm, and now that granny is in a care facility I may never see it again. I didn't know I would be sad about this until just now.

The Official Child Labor Uniform for lawn care is Toughskins™ and piggytails. I still wear both when I rake acorns in my new back lawn. I believe that in my lifetime I have picked up approximately 483,902,331 sticks.

The living room and basement were the main rooms for play and for photo-taking. Here we cradle our Child Comfort Objects of choice. I don't know why TG has that doll; she should be holding her koala, Nipitiri, which was her favorite toy. I am holding Lumimõmm*, a very special bear whom I still have (in a bin somewhere) and for whom I made a very small quilted vest. I know what you are thinking! Say it. Say it!!! TT of course has the omnipresent Dressy Bessy, who followed her (and I suspect helped take some of her tests through) high school. *Lumi=snow mõmm=the sound a bear makes

Christmas was all about singing carols with the cousins. This would be about 1975. Check the go-go boots on cousin #2! I am in the red shirt, flanked by cousin #3 and TG. At the time of this photo we have not yet discovered the game of John and Maria. That piano in the background is going to be in my living room in about 2 weeks.

We all thought my uncle was the greatest, funniest dude of all time! Cousin #2 struggles not to laugh, but cousin #1 is not amused.

Circa 1976. We are all wearing handmade vests and/or sweaters here. Wait ... I think TG might be wearing a vest made of the same fabric as the vest I made for Lumimõmm. Let me go check ... yup. Wow, I never realized that. [By the way -- that bin is full of some great stuff. Watch for a future post on it!] I also love that TT has her knees up inside her brand new sweater, and that my dad is dressed like Carl Sagan.

My grandparents' cider press was one of the best things they ever bought. There is nothing better than foamy cider straight off the press. Here, I am sampling for quality. TT watches my every move, for she recognizes that I am wise beyond my years.

All right, so I skipped documentation of middle school entirely. The Babe Years really do deserve their very own post, do you not agree? Here the three sisters demonstrate their love of all things furry; this is taken in the "back 40" of my grandparents' farm. Notice the similarity in posture between me & TG here and in photo 3. TT looks a little bit lost without me holding on to her. I must remember to make up for that next time I see her.

Harvest Repost

I reposted my piece called Feral Fruits on my story blog; it's one of my favorites and I'd love to share it all over again. Here it is.

Nostalgika XII: The Mighty Planets!

I found this picture that my baby sister (Tuuna Taco) made for me in 1981, when she was 8 years old. Notice the detail and accuracy of her depiction of our vast solar system! Pay particular attention to Jupiter's lesser ring, the mighty jewel Saturn with her majestic ornamentation, the dusty rings of Uranus and the blue methane atmosphere of Neptune. See lost stepchild Pluto in its errant orbit, and the distant nebulae and comets, viewed through the eyes of the astronauts in the passing spaceship. See the asteroids, clustered and crowded between rocky, canal-ridden Mars and the bloated sphere of Jupiter. The subtle beauty of a ring galaxy is seen in the distance, as the sun looms close to the inner planets.

No painter trapped on Earth ever imagined a world so strange and lovely.

A loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a sticka buttah.

A special flashback for my sister.

The things that emerge when I am left to my own devices.

Walking on the street in Manhattan (on the big night), I spotted this window. After urinating spontaneously, I snapped a picture so that you could share in my horror. What the crazy blue f*** is this world of ours coming to?!?

Why would anyone give a baby such a rattle? They are fuzzy amputees. Mockeries of the full-bodied animals they could be. That they long to be. Trapped in limbless bodies, to be grasped in a fist and shaken, gummed, lactated upon. It's sick!

I've been playing round after round of hold my pint. I can't get enough of it; it's the closest I can get to being drunk, myself.

By the way ... Estonians would never name a child Nina, because it means Nose.

I must learn to knit, if only to make these wonderful little egg caps for keeping my soft-boiled egg nice and cozy until I bash it open.


These are my mother's. A childhood memory emerges, of eggs in egg cups, each with its own hat; mine had the yellow; for it was my favorite color.


My twin sister's egg cap was blue. Later, when Tuuna Taco came along, she had red or green.


Now here's the best idea I've seen in a while. Wheelchairs for the beach! Check out those tires. Leave it to Coast Guard Beach to know what's what. Kudos to the Cape Cod National Seashore!!

Granny Girl [repost]

My Granny is just a Girl.

Granny is just a girl inside ... a girl who had friends; friends just like my friends.

Goofing around during school photos

Giggling in groups, drinking from beer steins

Playing on weekends ... living secrets, telling secrets.


The girl is in there, inside the old body with the creaky bones and the bewildered mind...

making daisy chains
laughing behind a hand
skiing through town
writing long letters
dreaming of a life ahead

The granny-girl inside is the one that loves me, that knows my soul and calls me friend.

Someday, I will be a Granny Girl, too.