Moving right along....

and so, you see, after t.v. entered my life i was never heard from again.  pathetic. let's take a new direction, shall we?  perhaps a blog of images instead....an online catalogue.

ugh.....

that was a short run.  bought a t.v. on monday.  it's hugeness looms in the living room....dant dant dant dant, danaaaah.  (that's supposed to be the music from 2001: space odyssey where the monkeys bash on the big black thing....you know, right?....whatever)

i was kind of excited to get the t.v., and now i'm really disappointed that we did it.  feels like a bad decision, an impulsive move, an unsavory one-night stand.  yick.  i can't even look it in the eye now. and it won't leave. it keeps calling and "dropping by". gah.

wowwee!  still tv free!  i miss movie night sometimes. i think we're going to try to borrow a projector that can hook up to the laptop...might be fun to have popcorn and watch a movie all big and wavy on the uneven plaster! 

aint it the troot

"children go to sleep just in time to save their lives"

just read that on another blog. such a welcome chuckle in this day of whining and complaining from all sides...husband included. they sleep as i type; the kids that is. and the inside of my head is mine, mine, mine...if only for a few minutes more. wonderful.

< = >

been thinking of this minimalism thing for a while now; and i'm having trouble resolving my desires with my reality.  to wit; i have kids.  am i damaging them psychologically by throwing away all their stuff?  NO!  whoops, that was my inner voice. shut up... 

i'm sitting here in my living room, surrounded by books, throw pillows, toys, curtains, doo dads, cast-off clothing (not mine; it's freezing in here!), art, cat hair, electronica, dvd's, plants, and i ask myself; where the hell do i get off claiming to be a minimalist???!!!

first of all, i have more than one kind of salt....that's probably the first clue that i'm no frikkin minimalist. better to call a spade a spade and admit i have sentimental attachments to all kinds of things.  i have mugs from 20 years ago that i can't bear to part with. i have old baby clothes, i have busted-down dolls and toys from 40 years ago. what the hell?  how can i point a finger at my own mother when i'm still harboring all these bits and pieces myself? my only advantage is give or take 25 years....then we'll see just how many boxes i have in my garage.