(An explanation, of sorts, for the lack of any real blogging lately, including my neglect of Poetry Friday):
"Why is life always such a mess?" I said just a few minutes ago. "And my kitchen counter? Why are life and my kitchen counter always so messy?"
"You should use that as a title for your memoirs: Life and My Kitchen Counter," said Anne-with-an-e.
I love that girl.
Recent messiness is nothing of import -- more busy-messy than bad-messy, scary-messy, or tragic-messy. Not really messy, in the existential sense. Just messy-busy-messy. But, as long as I'm here, I'll take a moment to catch up with you on a few things, including a couple of recent Ramona Moments:
* You know Ramona's behind it when you can't find your wine charms. (She's been wearing them as earrings.)
* You know Ramona should have been born into a family more like the Magical Mrs. M's when this happens: Ramona and I recently entered Hobby Lobby and she stopped, held her hands out as if to become one with the store, breathed in the artsy, craftsy, potpourri-laden air and pronounced, "Ah. Yes. These ... these are my people."
What will I do with her?
* Betsy apparently inherited a bit of her father's Marine Corps essence. She, Anne and two of their friends are writers/directors/set designing-builders for the parish youth choir musical. The choir director recently commented that Betsy does her military heritage proud, and one of the little girls in the cast was heard to whisper breathlessly to a friend, "Miss Betsy is scary!" during a rehearsal. I went to observe yesterday, though, and she must be exerting the right combination of authority and affection for her charges -- one of the kids ran to her and delivered a sweet, spontaneous hug before she left. So cute.
Finally, the much-neglected Poetry Friday:
I got nothin', but there's a great round up happening over at Robyn Hood Black's place.