Musical Monday … Everybody’s Talking

For this week’s Musical Monday, I’ve picked the Beautiful South’s cover of Everybody’s Talkin’ just because although it’s lyrically pretty deep, I think it’s a happy tune.  Plus it makes me think of my upcoming glorious summer!

Enjoy!

Everybody’s talking at me
I don’t hear a word they’re saying
Only the echoes of my mind

People stopping staring
I can’t see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Backing off of the North East wind
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

Stepping away from the Crackbook …

I don’t want to admit to being an addict, but I’ll go ahead and say it.

I’ve been spending just a little too much on Crackbook Facebook lately.  Maybe it was Small Town, Small Times that pointed it out to me with her lovely post … because ye know, if I was working I would be one of those business women sitting in B&N with my laptop open to my Facebook page.  [LOL]

So, I realise the time has come back away. Yes, the sun has set on this Facebook addiction.  It’s time for our affair to come to an end.

It was a love story that had very … erm … absent-minded beginnings.

I signed up on the social networking site before it was quite so popular.

But, then I kind of forgot about it … until I started getting emails with all these friend requests.

So, I added them, gawked for a bit and poked around some more.

I didn’t get it.  To me, Facebook wasn’t a very pretty looking website plus it was difficult to navigate and truth be told, there wasn’t really anybody on my list of friends to keep me intrigued.

So, I kind of forgot about it again … until people started discussing Facebook in excited, hushed tones around the water cooler which made me totally feel like I was missing out.  I quickly logged back on, did some more rubbernecking and even attempted to post a thing or two to my wall in order to feel like part of the gang!

More friend requests of the long lost variety ensued followed by some more gawking.

Guess what happened though?  I forgot about it … again.

Until I had the brainwave that was to be my downfall.  I would set Facebook as my home page.  Then, I would never forget about it ever again because as soon as my computer booted up and I got online … hey, presto … there it would be.  Facebook … in all its glory.

Then, I kind of got it.

Facebook was a like a party.  An ageless, timeless party.  And, I was the guest of honor.

Definitely a people-watcher, I was genuinely excited to see everyone’s status updates … from my cousin’s drunken exploits to the random adventures of a long-lost friend’s child.  I even added the Facebook application to my Blackberry to keep up.

Only it’s like a party that you get sucked in to and one that you never leave … there’s always something going on.

Farmville.

The quiz that determines what your theme song is.

Or, the quiz that determines what your redneck name is.

Cafe World.

You can even get your daily horoscope.

Bejeweled Blitz and we all know how that goes.

And, then take for example the past couple of weeks alone.  There were some very strange updates happening indeed.  Colours.  Inches.  Fines.  Post a retro profile photo … here’s mine …

Post a superhero profile pic … here’s mine …

Now, you have to post a photo of a celebrity you’ve been told you look most like …  here’s mine …

Ah, Facebook … you party animal you, I heart you, but all in moderation.  Facebook is a good way to stay in touch with family and friends by sharing  photos and memories, to experience the occasional Bejewled Blitz fix and to even pimp out my blog.

But, I’ve decided that it’s okay to step away from you because it seems there will always be something going on.

The one where her three-year-old told her he was free balling …

Oh, let me raise a glass to the joys of raising sons of varying ages … and while we’re at it, raise one with me.

*clink*

This morning, I was trying desperately to convince my three-year-old to put on his underwear UNDER his clothing when he turned to me and said, “No thanks, mummy … I’m free balling today.”

What, what, what?

Free balling?

Well, you can imagine my surprise, then shock and horror as I realised what he meant.

Free balling?

As in going commando?

I’m still in shock that my precious little boy uttered these words and once I picked myself up off the ground, feigned my ignorance and told him that we really should wear underwear … all … the … time, I silently cursed his brothers.

Oh yes, the joys of raising sons of varying ages indeed!

I wonder if this sort of thing happens in the Duggar household?

Get your game face on …

It seems like the kids were off school forever over the holidays.  And then they were no sooner back to school when they had even more days off. Seriously school officials, I know you like your vacation time, but this was a little beyond ridiculous.

So, what do with the wee scones on yet another day off?  We ended up at the Fun Zone for an afternoon of family fun where Mummy definitely got her game face on playing Dance, Dance, Revolution!  Oh yeah … the undefeated champion reigns!  What, me?  Competitive?  No?

See my game face?

Stopping for some root beer in the cafe, my sister and I posed for a sweet shot and my littlest one crept in to the photograph and posed like a pro.  Warms the cockles of my heart and makes a mummy proud!

Playing some crazy golf …

… with some crazy kids.

All ending with a lovely group shot … typical!

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Musical Monday … Don’t Stop

So, it all started a week ago when my littlest one got sick with a nasty bug.

This household has been sick, sick, sick.

He’s thankfully all better, but now it’s the hubby, my other boys and I feeling like we’ve all been hit by a great big double-decker bus.

Copious amounts of tea, fresh air and Fleetwood Mac’s Don’t Stop are getting me through it all.  Can’t wait to feel better so I can get back out in to the big wild world again.

You say sushi, we say shushee …

My mum, bless her cotton socks, has a new favourite food … and it’s called sushi or “shushee” as we call it in my family.  I’m not a fan of seafood, but the hubby and my boyz LOVE it.  This surprises a lot of people, but my two oldest boys have always enjoyed it even before they could pronounce it properly.  They would try so hard to say sushi, but it always came out as shushee.

When Grandma invited us out to a sushi restaurant the other night, we jumped at the chance.  You say sushi, we say shushee …

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RTT … The Gold and Chestal Region Edition

I’m back.  It’s been a while, but here goes my randomness …

• So, what’s with all the gold commercials?  It seems there’s good money to be made by selling off your gold, but why?  Who exactly wants to buy my gold?  There’s a conspiracy there somewhere don’t you think?  Or, it could be like something from an episode of Dr. Who?  Just wait and see … one day we’ll be attacked by some giant gold Cyberman!  Yeah, I think I’m going to hang on to mine.  Just in case.
• It seems poor Ricky Gervais got mixed reviews for his performance as host of the Golden Globes on Sunday night.  Personally, I thought he was fab … I mean … I would, wouldn’t I?  He is British, after all!  *grin*  I think some critics are getting a little too bent out of shape … it’s an AWARDS show.  And, some of these actors take themselves far too seriously and maybe need a little reality check every now and then.  Who better to do that than the lovely Ricky Gervais?  I thought he was funny and I am positive he did not offend too many stars.
• Well done to James Cameron on his wins, but I would rather have seen a mention of Haiti in his final acceptance speech.  It was a bit too narcissistic for me.  All these years I thought he looked familiar and it finally dawned on me that he looks like my o-level maths teacher Mr. Aspden.
• Poor Mr. Aspden … I think I shocked him the day I passed that o-level.  I remember walking in to the classroom to pick up my results where he was one of the teachers handing them out.  As soon as I walked in the door, he was like oh no, let me check it first … then he stood up and did the Rocky dance obviously indicating I had passed his class!
• I about spat out a whole cup of coffee in laughter after reading an email that a friend of mine sent … and I quote “did 20 pressups yesterday …  aching around my chestal region (is that a medical term – chestal? – have  {your hubby] ask the dr’s where he works )”  Seriously, hubby is NOT going to ask his boss that!  Anybody else have the answer for her?
• I’ve create quite the conversation with a Facebook status update of “Was forced to pay $5 for a 40-count of Yorkshire tea bags.”  It just makes me sick to think that over the summer I paid 99p for about 2oo bags.  I think I really need to go in to the import/export business because there’s money to be had in tea.
• Yesterday, I really felt the need to be by the sea.  Cue the music … “Oh, I do like to be by the seaside!”  Anyhoo, I took the boys off to our local beach for a couple of hours where they played and got lovely roses in their cheeks.  Let me just clarify … that’s face cheeks!!
• Afterwards, I took them to Panera Bread for some hot chocolate, but the boys tried to do a switcheroo right as we were ordering at the register.  The cashier must have sensed my frustration and calmly told us to take our time.  I wanted to throw my hands in the air and walk out, but ended up telling the boys … in no particular order … “no you can’t have a smoothie, no you can’t have a bear claw nor a cinnamon roll, well, unless you split it with your brother and no you definitely can’t have a salmon salad!”  We ended up with what we came in for and all in all it was quite lovely.
• Please, please, please do what you can to help the people of Haiti.  It honestly breaks my heart every time I watch the news …

Got Cold Cocoa?

Since the holidays, my little one has renamed his chocolate milk “cold cocoa.”

It all started one day at Starbucks when his big brothers asked for some hot cocoa.  He became a little obsessed by it, but didn’t actually didn’t try it till just the other day.  I made him a cup of it at home with luke warm milk and chocolate syrup, but hardly a drop got past his lips before he proclaimed he did not like it, adding, ”I only like cold cocoa.”

A literary genius in the making, but there you have it … cold milk with chocolate syrup is his cold cocoa.  Simply put, it’s chocolate milk.

Well, this past weekend with warmer weather on its way, my sister and I went to get pedicures this weekend.  I wasn’t long in to my pedi when my phone rang.  Sure enough, it was the hubby.

And, he was calling to ask exactly what “cold cocoa” was.

Apparently, when the little man had asked for it, Daddy had given him cold Ovaltine.

You can imagine how well that went down.  The little man no longer lets his father make up ANY of his drinks never mind his cold blooming cocoa!

Musical Monday… Ring on the Sill

For this week’s Musical Monday, I’ve chosen a song from a band the hubby and I are big fans of … it’s called Ring On the Sill by Cowboy Junkies.

There are only a handful of bands that we mutually appreciate and Cowboy Junkies has always been one of them.  We discovered them shortly after we were married and actually got to see them play in St. Petersburg back in the early 90′s.  Fabulous.  Busy, but good times!

This particular song has a somewhat haunting melody, but the words are beautiful, simple and heartfelt.

She placed her ring on the sill,
Dishes piled high
She’s on the front porch step
And the air smells like snow
She’s thinking of the siege to come
And how she’ll miss those weekends
In the park with the sun on her face
And her book by her side and that
Lingering taste that he left on her tongue

He lifts his glass from the table
It leaves a ring where it stood
He sees the light from the window
Caress her like he knows he should
He’s remembering the first time he kissed her
And how he’d wake
And immediately he’d miss her,
Like a spell, with each breath,
He’d taste her breath like a haunting,
Irritating as hell

Do you remember when you’d pray
To never see the day
When someone would make you feel this way
‘Cause you knew
They would cut right through you
And once inside, you were afraid they’d find
Nothing to hold on to

He puts her ring on her finger,
She brushes back his hair
He takes a sip from his glass,
She inhales the cold fall air
And they’re thinking of the long road ahead
And the strength that they will need
Just to reach the end
And there in the silence they search for
The balance between this fear that they feel
And a love that has graced their lives

Writing Workshop … Something I Miss

The other day I came home to a package sitting on my doorstep.

Fuck-a-duck, I thought and mentally cursed my husband.  What’s he been ordering now?  Visions of Christmas bills danced in my head along with one of my other half ordering yet another obnoxious bicycle shirt he doesn’t need.

On closer inspection, however, I was surprised to see that the package was in fact addressed to me.  It was addressed to me  in all too familiar handwriting that I recognized in an instant.

Beautiful, perfect, handwriting that unmistakably belongs to my father.

Looking down at my father’s penmanship, I sadly realised it is all I really know of him.

Besides the occasional phone call or visit, writing was how he kept in touch with me after my parents divorced, so I’ve seen it many times over the years.  I came to know it all too well in the letters, notes and cards that he sent me.  His small, neat, perfect penmanship that slopes beautifully to the right in all its cursive glory that would give me updates about his travels or wish me a happy birthday or a merry Christmas.

I’d read those letters and cards excitedly over and over until the paper was tattered and torn as if trying to connect with my father.  Trying to get close to a man who was always a million miles away.  In the long run, all I ended up getting to know was his handwriting.  Inside and out and back to front.

I don’t really know my father, but I know his handwriting.

It’s probably all I know of him.

And, I miss it.
Inspired by Josie’s Writing Workshop