What does this look like to you?

Beyond the obvious, does it look like, say, three weeks of groceries for a family of nine? A posh weekend getaway? 48 trips to the movies? It is a beautiful faucet, but come on! I've learned a painful lesson. When a friend advises you to buy your faucets on ebay, just sit down, make a choice and do it. Don't piddle fart around over finish styles and handle shapes until the day before installation. Because hardware stores don't stock Roman tub faucets. They take 10 days to come in. If you wait until the day of installation and beg your plumber for a place you can buy one that day, he'll send you to some specialty showroom where even the tiny sink faucets cost $250. And you'll be stuck. As I made this purchase, I could see in my minds eye a future time when we get to the bottom of our last bucket of wheat. My children will come to me, with hollow cheeks and imploring eyes. "Mummy," (insert pitiful Charles Dickens English accent here) "is there any more gruel?" I'll blink away my tears and say in the anguish of my soul, "No my dearest, you know we spent all our money on the tub faucet." He nods, and asks, "can I at least go polish it again? It looks so pretty in the light." "Yes, love. If it makes you feel better."

Puberty Watch

"You've got a zit, go pop it." Thomas commanded my 11 year-old at the breakfast table this morning. He perked up right away. "A zit? No I don't, where?" Thomas pointed out the offending pustule, and big L was incandescent with glee. "A zit! My first one! It's my man mark!" He refused to pop it. He intended to wear it as a badge of honor forever. Thomas finally convinced him that he really did need to pop it, and all kinds of gross discussion ensued. I tried to tune out their talk of how long to keep and what to do with the pus. I have to pick my battles, you know. When the actual popping time came, I was ready. First the pin. Then the squeeze. No, not like that, there's a right way and a wrong way to do things. Yep, you've got it. Welcome to the adolescent world, my son.

It's coming...it's coming!

That's not a dog, that's his wife!

These are words you never want to hear coming from your child's lips in public. Believe me, I know. On Saturday, all the boys were piled in the van. We were sitting in the drive through at the bank. A man was crossing in front of us on his way back to his van- a van that happened to have a cute little dog hanging out the window. "Oh, what a cute little dog!" cooed my eight year-old. Out came the cursed reply, in a really loud, carrying voice. It carried his words out my open window, straight to the ears of the stunned man walking in front of our van. We were lucky he didn't do something rash. He just looked disgustedly at us, and went on his way.
Wit beyond measure may be man's greatest treasure,
but wit gone awry makes you feel like cow pie.

I'm a Little Stew Pot.

I'm a little stew pot short and stout,
Mama's little helper brought me out.
Damp cloth underneath me, what's that about?
Just pick me up and hear Mom shout: Aaaaauuugh!

Hello, Beautiful.

You come here often? What's a vanity like you doing in a warehouse like this? How about we blow this joint....


Come on back to my place. I have this really great bedroom I want to show you.

Coping.

I've found a way to survive the chaos of construction.

I grabbed some markers and made a fantasy bathroom. I made my own little world where there is a sink with soap for me to wash my hands in. I can brush my hair in front of the mirror adorned with a cute frame. It may not be real, but....So inside doesn't look too great yet, but look what's going on outside!
See the first blush of purple on this hyacinth? I love hyacinths. I have a history with them. When we were newly married and very poor, my husband bought me a potted hyacinth. The smell was heavenly! I kept that little bulb, during move after move, saving it for when I had a house of my own. I lovingly planted it here. There's a poem about having hyacinths when you're poor that's made my little hyacinth that more precious to me:

If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves along to thee are left,
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.
- Moslih Eddin (Muslih-un-Din) Saadi (Sadi),
Gulistan (Garden of Roses)

Hyacinths my feed the soul, but parsley rocks a salad! And it's great in the cheese of lasagna. Use that to feed your tummy.