Dogs and flowers and not much else.

Did you have a nice long weekend?  Despite our original plans falling through, we managed to have a lovely one.  We spent a night at my parents' cabin - the "cabin" that is three times the size of my house and has twice as many bathrooms, which is my idea of camping - and played in the garden a lot.  My husband has been trying to get action shots of Barkley to make me a "Barkley calendar", but so far the shots have been a bit blurry:

 

 

Besides "camping", I've been in a frenzy of gardening and yard work over the past couple of days.  I didn't get enough plants on my first trip to the garden centre:

Such a teeny cartful!  I headed out yesterday to stock up and also to enjoy that feeling of youth that only can be attained by being the youngest person in a place by thirty years.  I had to make TWO trips into the store, and it's lucky I drive a minivan:

But even so one of the containers had to ride shotgun.

I came home eager to get started, but just as I pulled into the garage, our arbourist pulled up, chainsaw in hand.  Our beautiful old hawthorn tree had contracted fireblight - which sounds dramatic, no? - and was, essentially, dead.  We'd been waiting for a couple of weeks for the arbourist to work his tree removal magic.  My plans had to be put on hold, on account of me not wanting to be crushed to death by falling branches; I went to go check my email, came upstairs, and the tree was now several piles of wood on the ground.  It was so fast, I forgot to mourn the loss of the tree.  On the bright side, our yard seems HUGE.  I feel like I'm living on an acreage.  In any event, I did get some, but not all, of the planting done.  Today it's pouring rain and it's forecasted to continue for a while, which is great for my new plants but puts a little cramp in my gardening plans. 

The house is dark, and it's dark and rainy outside, but it feels cozy, like a nice morning to get some writing done and drink coffee and bake something delicious.  And occasionally stare out the window at the plants on the deck, waiting anxiously to be put into the ground and spread out their roots.

Speaking of spreading out roots, my arbourist asked how long we've been in this house, and I realized with some shock that it's been thirteen years.  Thirteen years!  Long enough for us to renovate our house not once but several times, long enough for me to dig out all the old neglected gardens and replant everything, long enough for me and the boys to become fixtures in the neighbourhood, long enough for my next door neighbour to finally stop calling me "Michelle".  This same neighbour was out doing yardwork on the weekend, along with his wife.  His wife, who was mowing the lawn and wearing a man's oversized muscle shirt and NOTHING ELSE.  Literally, nothing else.  What has been seen cannot be unseen, if you know what I'm saying here.  And no, this neighbour is not related to the one who is famous for gardening in only his red cutoff sweatpants and nothing else.  Wow, what is going on in my neighbourhood?  Every day is interesting, let's leave it at that.

Naked Shuffleboard

My weekend plans got kiboshed, and so yesterday I decided that since we were staying home, I may as well get a little bit of gardening done.  It's too early to really plant anything, I thought to myself, So I'll just get a couple of really hardy plants.  I walked into the garden centre and immediately forgot everything except LOOK PRETTY FLOWERS WHEE.  Honestly, I almost forgot my own name for a few minutes as I meandered among the aisles, completely overstimulated and humming along to the Carlos Santana tune playing over the speakers.

I was flirted with in that jovial, harmless, elderly way by five - FIVE - old men while I filled my cart to overflowing with annuals and perennials.  It occurred to me later that none of the old men had carts of any kind, and in fact none of them actually appeared to be buying anything.  This indicates one of two things: a) the old men drive their wives to the garden centre, and then wander off looking for people to chat with, or b) the old men go to the garden centre to pick up women.  My god - is the garden centre the meat market for old people?  Think about it: who is actually shopping in a garden centre on a Thursday afternoon?  Me, a couple of extremely harried-looking moms with little ones in tow, and OLD PEOPLE.  The more I think about it the more likely it seems; after all, if an old man was there with his wife he would probably be choosing plants WITH HIS WIFE, no?  I wonder how many old people relationships start out in garden centres.  We all know that old men make out like bandits in retirement homes, almost entirely due to numbers being in their favour, but maybe garden centres are known for the place to meet the swinging singles.

I bought some eye cream a couple of months ago, given I am getting older and when one wakes up at 4:45 every day, one has a tendency to look like a crypt keeper.  I went out and chose this cream out of many others, thinking that this would be a transformative event in my life.  Eye cream!  You would think that two months would be long enough to make a difference, however, it has not.  This is probably because I constantly forget to apply it.  This is my evening beauty routine: remove eye makeup, use special exfoliating cleanser, rinse well, use tissue to remove what I hope is residual eye makeup but is often just an undereye circle, apply toner with cotton ball, brush teeth with whitening toothpaste, stare at teeth in the mirror and wonder if I should give up coffee, decide (related to undereye circles and waking up at 4:45) that this is not a feasible option, apply nighttime lotion, rub extra hydrating cocoa butter into my cracked, dry excuse for hands, fall into bed and pass out.  I seem to be unable to add eye cream to this routine. 

I ran out to the grocery store today to pick up a few things, plus some whitening strips (see also: coffee consumption.  And red wine.)  While looking for whitening strips, I noticed something extremely disturbing: right next to the denture cleansers and accessories was a display of condoms, lubricants, and medications for yeast infections.  Ew.  Now, the patrons of my grocery store are largely elderly, due to the senior's mecca of a neighbourhood that I live in.  I thought about the garden centre and felt that this was just too much.  The signs are everywhere.  KY jelly right next to the Polident tablets?  Ultra sensation-like wearing nothing- ribbed for her pleasure multipack of condoms right next to the Fixodent?  A whole row of Monistat next to the Seabond?  Do you see a pattern here?  Life, apparently, begins at seventy.

Nicole's Favourite Things - Spring Edition!

It was such a long, cold winter, wasn't it?  Snow on the ground from October solidly through April, but I tell you this: May has been absolutely stunning in YYC.  I keep expecting snow in the forecast every day, or at least hard frosts, and yet it's been warm and beautiful.  It feels like spring, but not Calgary spring - regular actual spring! 

And so it's time for the Spring Edition of Nicole's Favourite Things!

My Garden

On the fourth of May, this is what my front yard Mayday tree looked like:

This is what it looks like now:

Leaves!  Flowers!  All in a nine day span, which is not great for the allergy sufferers in the house, but it sure is pretty.  Speaking of pretty:

This is the prettiest the Nanking cherry has ever looked.  Usually the buds freeze before the flowers come out and/or the flowers get blown off by gale force winds, but not this year.  I'm soaking up every second. 

I know people in other parts of the world have had lilac bushes, the blooms of which have already come and gone, but look at the adorable little buds on my lilac:

There are many, many other exciting things happening in my garden right now, but if you are NOT a gardener, you may be falling asleep with boredom at all my squee flower talk.  Moving on. 

Embracing Colour

Well, kind of.  I was shopping with a girlfriend who just so happens to have gone to design school and has a fabulous sense of style, and she practically forced me to buy this top, which I was unsure about, but now I love.

IT'S SO COLOURFUL!  I feel a little bit peacock-y in this outfit, but my husband informed me that I am now no longer allowed to shop without my friend in tow.  Hope she doesn't mind her new career as my personal stylist.

I also wore a blue - BLUE - scarf to my 20th high school reunion.  I don't know if it's spring fever or what, but all this colour is going to my head.

Anyone else feel like I need to clean my bedroom mirror?  Seems a little dusty.

Mascara

I am a sucker for different formulations of mascara, and yet I don't actually notice a difference between any of them.  None of them transform me into a Megan Draper lookalike, possibly because I don't look anything like Megan Draper and also she has fake eyelashes and professional makeup artists and she's a TV character, not an actual person.  Anyway.  I did buy this mascara called "The Falsies" and although I was at first disappointed with it (see also: non transformation into a TV character) the more I use it the better I like it.  My husband snapped this picture of me on Saturday night and I can actually notice my eyelashes in it:

Spring Food

I am in love with everything berry and green these days, so I'm enjoying these recipes I have up at Yummy Mummy Club: Green Goddess Bowl of Goodness, Overnight Coconut French Toast, and Lemon Mini-Cakes with Whipped Coconut Cream.  Fun fact: that last recipe is a vegan riff on my dear friend Hannah's famed Lemon Muffins. 

Mother's Day

I'm not hugely invested in Mother's Day, but this weekend my boys gave me homemade cards and hugged me approximately one zillion times.  They also had a blast playing in the sprinkler, which NEVER happens in May! 

 

 

That series of photos just makes my heart happy.

Ground Control to Commander Hadfield

Commander Hadfield is the BOMB.  I have never been a person even slightly interested in space.  In fact, one of my strongest memories from Grade One is lying to the teacher of the gifted enrichment program about already reading a book about a dog who becomes an astronaut because, hey, books about space?  Snore.  I think they gave me an equally snore-worthy book about a dog who dug a hole in a garden but whatever.  At least I didn't have to read about space.

But here comes the amazing Canadian Chris Hadfield and suddenly I'm completely obsessed.  I can't wait to watch him come home tonight, with the kids.  Is there anything that man cannot do?  Plus, his song Is Somebody Singing makes me tear up every time I sing it (which is often, in the shower).  The kids sang it for Music Monday and it was just so special.

This Fabulous Spam Comment

Anonymous wrote: I don't even understand how I stopped up here, however I believed this put up was good.  I do not know who you are but certainly you are going to a famous blogger in the event that you aren't already.  Cheers!

Anonymous goes on to post his/her website entitled "tits movie".  Oh boy!  Thanks Anonymous!  I sure hope you're right, and I think I'll just go click that link now.

I AM living life to the fullest, dammit.

My friend Nan came across the "50 Ways To Live Life To The Full" on the Daily Mail site and described her reaction to each of those 50 ways.  I don't know, I kind of feel like I'm living life to the fullest right now, given that I had popcorn for lunch instead of my usual tomato/cucumber/hummous sandwich.  However, I am going to write about my reaction to this list of fifty events, and I encourage you to do it as well!  It's a fun Friday meme!  Memes.  Like it's 2008.

1. Stop worrying about money
Right off the bat, I find this annoying.  You know, MC Hammer stopped worrying about money and Hammerland was taken into receivership.  Did you know the vast majority of lottery winners are broke within five year?  Maybe you SHOULD worry about money, at least a little.

2. Stop worrying about what other people think
Well, that depends, doesn't it?  I don't worry too much if people think I'm a spoiled princess of a housewife, but I would be a little worried if people thought I was an asshole or mean to my kids or something.  We do live in a society.

3. Take two holidays a year
Oh, I've got this one! 

4. Enjoy little comforts in life
Did I mention I had popcorn for lunch?

5. Experience different cultures
This is an important point, I think.  I agree, Daily Mail!  But not to the point where I will go to a luau in Hawaii or anything; I have a hard time with the whole pig thing.

6. Work to live rather than live to work
But what if you enjoy your job? 

7. Pay off all debts
Done.

8. Be true to yourself
I am going to quote Nan on this one: "Unless "yourself" is an asshole. In that case, be better than yourself."

9. Concentrate on what you have instead of what you don't have
Yes, this is important.  I actually have to tell my kids this often.

10. Use money on experiences rather than saving for a rainy day
This is silly.  I strongly disagree, Daily Mail.  This kind of entitlement attitude is what leads to debt crises.

11. Make time for family and friends
Pretty much ALL my time is spent with family and friends.  I'm a stay at home mom who hangs out in the playground for fun.

12. Try all types of food
Well...no.  There are many, many things that I have no interest in trying.

13. Find true love
Aw, I totally have a Shmoopie.

14. Travel to at least 25 different foreign countries
These are the countries I have travelled to: US, Mexico, The Netherlands, Italy, Greece, Turkey, and Egypt.  So, I guess I only have 18 to go?

15. Go outside more
I am outside ALL THE TIME.  During the winter this is a major point of contention for me but yet the dog must be walked and the children must be taken and picked up from school. 

16. Learn a new language
I am currently learning Pokemon, and it makes me want to poke-my-eyes-out.

17. Be well thought of by family and friends
I think this is true!  Or at least everyone is too polite to say if it isn't.

18. Help a member of your family out when they really need it
I treated a wart on one of my children's toe recently.  I think that really counts.

19. Lose a stone in weight
A stone is seven pounds.  I am not going to lose seven pounds.  I lost five pounds when I had the norovirus in January and I looked like actual death. edited to add: my god, a stone is fourteen pounds, not seven!  If I lost fourteen pounds I would look like Skeletor.

20. Treat each day like it's your last
This is a terrible idea!  If it was my last day on earth I'd eat and drink like a Roman emporer, and cry a lot.

21. Visit all of Britain's historical landmarks
I would love to do that, actually.  But I think the Daily Mail is a bit biased.

22. Book an impulsive last minute holiday
This will never happen.  My husband is the holiday planner extraordinaire and he plans vacations a good two years in advance.

23. Volunteer for a good cause
I volunteer for so much stuff that I actually had to cut myself off from volunteering.

24. Take up a challenge
This summer I'm going to challenge myself to actually organize all the children's schoolwork that I have saved over the year, but if the past is any indication, I won't get very far because I'll end up reading a Mother's Day card from preschool and curl up in a corner sobbing.

25. Go on safari
Oooh!  I want to do this!  I always thought this would be what my husband and I could do on our 25th wedding anniversary.  I'll get him to start planning for that on our 23rd anniversary.

26. Blow a load of money in one shopping trip, just because you can
This happens every time I a) go to Costco or b) go to Lululemon.

27. Learn a new instrument
I already play the piano at a pretty high level, how much more do you want from me?

28. Be married for longer than 20 years
Talk to me in nine years.

29. Have enough money left for the grandchildren to enjoy
Oooooh, grandchildren! 

30. Start a family
Done.

31. Earn more than your age
What does this mean?  I have to earn more than $38 a year?  I don't understand this question.

32. Have a pet
Barkley!

33. Drive a really fast car
My husband has a really fast car; I am not allowed to drive it.  It's okay, I prefer rocking out my minivan anyway.  Windows open, kids in the back, with Gangnam Style cranked up.  LIKE A BOSS.

34. Travel alone
I went to Saskatchewan by myself last year, does that count?

35. Be able to keep the kids on the straight and narrow
So far, so good.

36. Meet strangers
I talk to people all the time.  In grocery stores, post office, dog park, playground...I think I'm good.  In fact, I think maybe sometimes people wish I talked to them less.

37. Move away from home to an unfamiliar place
I'd like to move to a warmer climate, but who am I kidding.  I'm going to be here until I die.

38. Have a one night stand
GROSS.

39. Pass your driving test
Yay, I got this!

40. Get a degree
I have two!  Extra points!

41. Rescue someone so that you're a hero for a little while
I'm rescuing you all from boredom by doing this list!  Does that mean I'm your hero?  It doesn't?  You're still bored?  Oh.

42. Date someone exciting but completely wrong for you
Well, I have done this, but not since I left my youth behind.  Thankfully.  I don't think my husband would be into this idea.

43. Get a promotion
What would a promotion BE for a stay-at-home-mom-blogger?  I mean, I have been promoted in my life, but not for the past decade or so.

44. Reach the desired career peak by age 40
I'm hoping to get my cookbook out before I turn 40, so maybe that will be it.

45. Have an all-night drinking session
I don't think I've ever done this.  I'm just not a night owl.

46. Perform something on stage in front of others
When I was in high school, I played Amanda Wingfield in The Glass Menagerie and it was the pinnacle of my acting career.  I really got that Southern accent DOWN.  I also, completely inappropriately, played Shelly in Buried Child.  In high school.  Incest and infanticide - the perfect high school play.

47. Snog a stranger
Snog means kiss, right?  Then I've totally done this.  Unless it means "have sex with" in which case I haven't.

48. Plan a surprise party
Hahahaha.  Surprise parties are the WORST.  The guest of honour almost always is totally humiliated by it, or is wearing sweatpants and has dirty hair, or something.  I was once at a surprise party where the guest of honour came into the house, totally bitching about his wife, who had corralled everyone into the dark living room, and...surprise!  Also - ALSO - my mom and aunts were planning a surprise party for my grandpa on the occasion of his 95th birthday.  I kept telling them that I strongly disagreed with this idea.  Surprising a 95 year old man is a terrible idea!  Yet, they still went ahead with it (and fortunately, it was a success, but STILL.)  Remember the surprise party Megan Draper threw for Don?  It almost ended their brief marriage!  Lessons to be learned.

49. Embark on adrenaline packed activities such as sky diving or bungee jumping
I am never, ever, ever going to sky dive or bungee jump, but being on an airplane with lots of turbulence on the way to Palm Springs was pretty adrenaline packed.  Especially since I was actually bouncing on my seat and thought we were all going to die.

50. Spend time with children even if they aren't yours
Two words: BOOK FAIR.

Sweep, sweep, hurry, hard!

You won't believe it, but it has been actually hot here the past couple of days.  Not just warm, but HOT.  It's beautiful.  Nothing teaches you to carpe diem like a hot day in Calgary.  It's like the whole city is well aware that such a gift may not ever happen again, and so everyone is outside frantically enjoying the sunshine.  Seize the day, goddammit!  I've noticed a lot of sunburned faces around, which is also typical of this city where people take a few weeks to realize that yes, there is such a thing as sunscreen. 

A lot of those red faces were at the school.  Yesterday was Music Monday and I went to watch 430 students singing on the hill behind the school.  It couldn't have been more perfect, and as a side note: is there anything that Chris Hadfield cannot do?  The guy is the whole package, moustache and all.  He writes songs, he orbits in space, he plays the guitar - seriously, what an amazing man.

I brought freezies to the playground yesterday after school and enjoyed feeling the sun while the kids played.  I checked Mark's agenda and in there was a note reminding all parents about appropriate clothing for warm weather, reminders about hats, sunscreen, and water bottles.  There was also a reminder about shorts - how short is too short? - and that there are no spaghetti straps permitted in the classroom; tank top straps must be two-finger-widths at minimum.  I'd never received this particular note before, and I didn't get one from Jake's class, so I have to assume Grade 3/4 is the age when these rules start to be enforced.  After all, I've seen plenty of kindergarteners in sundresses with skinny straps. 

It reminded me so much of Swistle's Middle School Dress Code post that I had to go read it again.  This is my very favourite paragraph from that post:

I can HEAR in the newsletter that the middle school staff does not WANT to make a dress code. They want to say, “Wear REASONABLE clothing, please, and let’s get on with the day.” But no: the children push and Push and PUSH, until the staff is FORCED to say things such as “Shoulders of tops must be at least three (3) inches wide.” I’m sure that in the beginning they were thinking, as I am, “What’s wrong with a tank top?” And many VERY HEADACHEY days later, it’s “three inches” and then needing to spell out that “three” = 3.

I just didn't realize I would be facing this in Grade 3.  Of course, I can be as flip as I like about it, since my own children are wearing t-shirts that have the 2010 Vancouver Olympic mascots on them and nearly knee-length cargo shorts.  I am not likely ever going to have to worry about them wearing spaghetti straps and short shorts to school, and because of this I feel very fortunate.

Slight digression: I've always found sleeveless shirts on men to be kind of vile, outside of a gym or yoga studio or athletic activity.  I think it's the armpit hair.  Anyone else feel this way, or is this going to be another of those issues that divides us, like shorts?  We can all still be friends, no matter what our view on shorts are.  This isn't O Magazine.

There is one thing that is very trying about this weather, and that is the very dry dead grass that is everywhere.  Green grass is only just starting to sprout, and so the dead grass is literally everywhere.  It was all over my blanket that I took to Music Monday, it's inexplicably all over the kids' clothing, and the dog, the DOG keeps rolling around outside and bringing in vast quantities of it.  The dog isn't due for his day at the groomer's for another two weeks, and so his giant fuzziness is constantly shedding dead grass all the live long day.  I cannot stand the sight of it, which means I am sweeping the floor constantly.  "I'm in a battle with the grass," I said casually to the boys, who immediately jumped on the word "battle".  They immediately began describing the video game that could be based on my life.  Mom versus grass.  My weaponry is a broom and sometimes the vinegar-and-water spray bottle and mop.  Level up!  I swept up the grass.  There's more grass!  I'm losing lives!  Get out the broom! 

Anyone want to get in on the lamest, most housewifely video game idea ever?  Anyone?  I was a little saddened by the apparent turn my life has taken here; I mean, my superpower is sweeping up dead grass with a broom.  This is what my life has come down to. 

More, More, More

Has it been a weirdly long week?  Not a bad week, but a long week?  On Tuesday I told Mark that he had better get his library books together for school, to which he answered that library was on Thursday.  I knew that but honestly thought it was Thursday.  Wednesday I was planning for Friday, which I thought was the next day.  The fact that it's the third of May is not helping matters either; I feel like I'm in a weird time warp in which I don't have any idea what day, month, or year it is.  I realized this morning that there is only seven weeks left of school, which was shocking.  Time is slipping, slipping, slipping into the future, my kids are getting older and I'm getting older too, and the cat's in the cradle with the silver spoon.

Speaking of getting older, I received - completely unsolicited - a copy of More magazine in the mail.  More!  The magazine for mature women.  I was very startled to see it in my mailbox, with my name and address on it, being I didn't subscribe to it.  I realized this must be some kind of promotional item; perhaps since I actually have a subscription to the mature suburban Canadian women's magazine Canadian Living I am actually on some kind of mailing list.  For mature women.  More magazine!  I scoffed a bit, picked it up, and then realized that I really am this demographic now.  Much more so than, say, Cosmopolitan.  Not that I've read Cosmo in years - I know all the sexy tricks, Cosmo.  I don't need any more lists. - but it is a little startling when you realize that you're more More than Cosmo, is all I'm saying.   

Anyway.  It's Friday.  I've been busy in the kitchen all morning, preparing for some girlfriends to taste test some new recipes.  I've also been doing a little bit of taste testing myself, in other words, I'm feeling a bit FULL.  There's not much that I love more than preparing desserts and appetizers for my open-minded girlfriends, while singing along to the station that plays all the ballads from the 1970s.  Cause I'm easy...I'm easy like Sunday morning. 

Segueing right into the eighties, I was heading into the grocery store (because where else do I go?) and I saw this amazing license plate.

If that doesn't immediately make your day just a little bit brighter, then I don't know what will.  That is the single greatest license plate/ car combination ever, better even than 1Bruce1 or HotCarl.  I wondered who owned this fantastic vehicle; perhaps a sexy, hirsute, moustachioed man.  I was not at all disappointed when the owner approached:

 

I kid.  I did not see the owner, mostly because I felt it might be weird and stalker-ish to stand at the car waiting for someone to bring out their groceries.  I did keep looking for Hawaiian shirts in the Co-Op, but alas, none were to be found. 

 

I have only ever seen one episode of Magnum PI.  I know!  You would think that I would be more up on that, but you would be wrong.  I'm sure there are reruns playing somewhere but I seem to be too busy these days watching and re-watching Mad Men episodes and making Tom and Lorenzo-like notes on the fashions.  How did Betty become so frumpy?  Is Megan wearing hair extensions?  Is it weird to have a crush on Henry Francis?  He's wearing a Christmas sweater!  What is WRONG with me?

 

But back to Magnum.  My husband watched it a lot in the eighties, and every time he hears Phil Collins' In The Air Tonight he says "Best. Magnum. Ever."  Then he explains the plot to me and I think it sounds interesting and maybe I should watch it, and then I end up wondering if I could wear a gypsy scarf as a headband like Megan did that one time or would that look weird.  So I will probably go through my entire life without actually watching Magnum PI but still enjoying photos like this:

 

 

Remember back in the day when men didn't shave and/ or wax their chests?

 

Somewhere hidden in a family album is a photograph of my mother in the late eighties, standing next to a life size cardboard cutout of Tom Selleck.  If I didn't think my mother would disown me I would blow it up and frame it, or at least post it here.  However, I like to maintain good relations with my mother and so I will leave that photo where it lies.  My mother is a big fan of the moustachioed man, given her penchant for Tom Selleck and the famously stached Sam Elliot.  But I shall not make fun of her mature women fantasies because I picked up a copy of People at my hair salon and flipped to the men who were deemed to be "Sexy at (fill in the age decade)".  I realized that the only appealing demographic was the Sexy at Fifty category.  HENRY FRANCIS?  I guess I am ready for More magazine after all.  

 

Taxidermy! Food courts! Ukrainian Folk Dancing!

Today I attended an assembly hosted by both Mark's and Jake's classes where there was a wide variety of Reader's Theatre (Mark was Narrator #3) and also Ukrainian folk dancing.  Really, you haven't lived until you've seen sixty five children wearing paper headbands and headdresses, dancing to Ukrainian folk music.  It was very entertaining.  I thought - unbiasedly, of course - that Mark was the very best of all the narrators, but also that he is most emphatically NOT a performer.  Or specifically, a dancer.  He seemed to gravitate towards the middle and back of the group, eyes on the ground, almost as though trying to disappear.  In fact, that was what he was doing, as he told me he was embarrassed to dance in front of the whole school.  Jake's role was to do a sort of squat-kick spin-your-partner, except his partner was absent, so he spun himself.  I thought it was excellent, in a most unbiased and objective way.

On Friday I opened the childrens' agendas and discovered that, for this assembly, they were required to wear dark pants and white shirts.  Now, I don't know about you, but I have a policy about white shirts, and that is that we don't have any.  I mean, my husband wears them to work, and I have a couple that I guard with aprons and extra care, but my children - no.  However, I didn't want them to be the only two children without white shirts, and so I resigned myself to a mall excursion.  ON A WEEKEND.  I felt that since I was dipping my toe in anyway, I may as well just jump right in and also get shoes for Mark, given that his feet suddenly had a growth spurt and he was walking strangely in his old shoes, probably semi-crippled with shoe discomfort.

So there we were, the whole family, at the gigantic mall just outside the city.  Like I said, go big or go home, and so we made the trek to the place that houses the Skechers outlet.  We fairly expediently obtained the needed items, plus less expediently obtaining others (not for me, sadly) and then we went to the food court.

What is with kids and the food court?  They think this is the biggest treat of all time.  Any mention of a food court and they get so excited I worry about their little blood pressures.  FOOD COURT!  When I am on one of my rare evenings out, my husband will proclaim "It's a BOY'S NIGHT!" and the children will lose their little minds with excitement, knowing that they are going to get to go to a mall and eat in a food court. 

After the super-exciting food court lunch, we started to head for the exit.  On the way, we passed Bass Pro and my husband asked the boys if they wanted to go in.  For those of you who don't know, Bass Pro is a wretched, wretched place filled with a myriad of taxidermied animals.  I cannot even step past the taxidermied moose that mark the entrance without feeling alarm, which seems to be the exact opposite of my children, who enjoy looking at the taxidermied animals, as well as the camouflage hunting tents and whatnot.  Both boys immediately said that they did NOT want to go to the store because they didn't want to lose Mom again.

Here's the story: the last time we were at that mall, the kids wanted to go into Bass Pro and look at all the (dead) animals, and also the gigantic fish tank.  I, understandably, wanted to pass.  I said I would wait outside, but I got bored and started to wander around.  I texted my husband to tell him I was going to Jacob to look at black sweaters.  I texted him that I was now in a shoe store.  I texted him to say I was buying some boots.  I texted him to ask where are you?  God, I thought, they are taking forever.  I wandered some more and ran into him, white-faced and frantic.  It turns out that my husband didn't have his phone with him, and thought I had disappeared.  Oops.  In any event, the boys were so traumatized that a) no one wants to ever go into Bass Pro again, and b) my husband doesn't leave the house without his phone.

The last time I was in Bass Pro - many, many months ago - I snapped some photos:

Sexytimes!  A camouflage lingerie section, to go with the camouflage quad/ hunting tent combination, in case anyone's in the market.