Olivia goes down the Slide

Here is the long awaited video of Olivia going down the slide in January. Sorry the video is so dark.

The indistinct high pitched noises and crazy laughter in the background are coming from me.

An Unexpected Taste Of Heaven

Today I joined the whole foods revolution...accidentally. I went to the fridge to get what I thought was a pear. I noticed that this particular pear was a bit oddly shaped, with a bright yellow hue; but there was no question that it was a pear, right? Wrong.

As I bit into my fruit, the first thing I noticed was the extremely thick rind. There was also an abundance of seeds; and a fresh, but not really sweet taste. "This is Not A Pear, This Is A Summer Squash" my brain stated the obvious. "This is not a pear, not the sweetness I expected, but I like it a lot."

I continued eating, rind, seeds and all. It was delicious! Even now, I am craving a healthy bite of raw summer squash. The freshness of cucumber, combined with the texture of jicama come together to create a little taste of heaven. I have to laugh at this experience, but at least I can say I learned something new today...

Yet Another Reason Why I'm A Dog Person

Modern...I suppose

I have a love-hate relationship with Face book.As far as I am concerned, Facebook is just another tool of social one-upmanship rather than social networking. Sometimes I stay far away from everything Face Book "on principal" and at other times I find myself framing my thoughts in terms of status updates. I admit my weakness. However, the quizzes are always fun. Today I took a quiz which told me the type of writer I am. I was horrified with the results, and thought the readers of this blog should be warned.

You resemble Joyce, W. C. Williams, and Woolf. The culmination of the Enlightenment and the nation-state has literally blown your mind: you represent consciousness in a stream, but this stream is fragmented (somehow). You're a big fan of Picasso, and it shows in your prose. People think you're scatterbrained and indecisive, but you know better! If you ever pause, paralyzed in print, it's because you're pinioned between the Great Wars, between old religion and modernity -- and because you ask big, perhaps impossible-to-answer questions like "Suppose there is a pigeon. Suppose there is" and "do I dare to eat a peach?" Fare forward, Modern Period! You are full of passionate intensity.

Joyce, and Woolf, Really?? That means my writing is equal to the mental wanderings of a depressed maniac. Read at your own risk.