- First, summer lasted forever this year. Global warming and impending doom of the earth aside (which actually does alarm me), this sounds like a good thing, and it is, but it's also a little unsettling because once again, you feel like the seasons broke and someone forgot to turn on the new one. It was bothering me for a while, especially with the extreme desert dryness and miserable fires going on over here, but then I had a comforting thought: If summer lasts until mid-October, then maybe winter won't feel so long! I can dream. (I'm actually freaking out about going into a mild, dry winter. But that's a post for probably never)
- Do you have a favorite font? What am I saying, of course you do, everyone does. And I know we all have phases of favorites as well-- Comic Sans, Arial, Wingdings, some kind of cursivey handwriting one. Right now mine is courier. It's a classic typeface and one as old as time, or at least as old as type, or pressing print. I love courier because it looks old timey and like I used a typewriter, which is another cherished favorite. I love fonts so much that I try to write them longhand. Like this:
You do not know how much I practice this.
- About 20 minutes ago, a horrifying event took place for what I think is the 3rd time in my life but perhaps it is more. What was it, you ask? I went out to the garage to do something and when I returned I almost walked RIGHT into a spider dangling down at face-level from the doorframe. "NO, SPIDER, NO!" I immediately spat-breathed out (so as to avoid accidentally inhaling the spider as it gets sucked into the vortex of my intake. Why do i think I take great gulping breaths all the time? I don't. Not all the time) which totally worked. It floated away from me, and then I recoiled and shouted at the spider, shaming and repudiating it. Why does this keep happening? Is it a joke? I guess it is Halloween. Good one, spider.
- Today's the last day of fall break, and I made Julian do odd jobs with me all morning, like dusting the blinds, which is the worst. Sometimes he makes fun of when I talk to him like what he would call a "typical mom." I had him begin and reminded him,
"Ok, now be sure to get every slat. Do a good job."
"Ok, Mother!" with a grin.
And then we laugh and I call him Cinderulian.
We also cleaned his room and i made him watch me closely to learn how to clean. For example, I had him go fetch me some dusting wipes and we stood at his bookcase and I told him, "Now listen up. I am a lazy cleaner. Am I going to pull out all the books to make sure I get ALL the dust? Heck no! You just dust where you can see. So go in and out and dust all the spaces between the jutting-out books, like this. There you go."
I also taught him how to clean up all the crap on his dresser and desk. He complained about not having anywhere to put anything.
"Sure you do! See your cute little wooden box? Anything in there? No? Great, put all your metal knick knacks in there. Your little pocketknife and leatherman and all these random keys. Do they even go to anything? Whatever, doesn't matter, put them in the box! See? Organized!"
He wanted to keep some piece of junk "for the nostalgia!" --a small plastic gold trophy-- but didn't know where to put it so first he just set it down on his dresser which I rejected, as that was where it had been, and next he suggested atop the corner of his closet door which is just ridiculous. I told him, "ok, you need to put it in a place that makes sense and is also out of the way. Like, see how you have projects and awards on your bookshelf? Put it with that, up high, so it's out of your way and can collect dust that we won't notice as much."
I motioned to a shoebox full of a hammer and junk ("it's my toolbox!" taking up a good 15% of his desk space and said we needed to do something about that. Thinking it unsolvable, he refused to try, so I showed him how you can rearrange things so that the lid will close. I then gave it to him and said, "ok, now find a place in your closet to put this." A minute later I turned around and he had placed the box on the floor BARELY inside the closet doors, so thy couldn't even shut. Like it was almost the closet guard, standing afoot the citadel. "What?? No! Someplace else!" "but there IS nowhere else!" "Ok, well, at least put it on the floor up against the back of the closet. There, now the doors can close." See, Julian? Problem solved.
I am so good at cleaning and even better at teaching others how to clean. This comes after Julian was digging around in the kitchen junk drawer and exclaimed, "I LOVE this junk drawer! It is the best!" to which I emphatically agreed.
Happy autumner, friends. Fallsum? Sumtumn? Ha ha, we have a winner. Anyway, may your October be whatever temperature you desire and may you find your life as rich and exciting as mine.