a bunch of rambled thoughts because i can't figure out how to form them together into a coherent post.

Last night, while driving through town with my mom, we came across a couple of cars pulled over to the side of the road. A few men were hurrying around, shining flashlights into the nearby woods and shouting to each other.

My mom slowed way down. "Uh oh. Do you think someone lost control and went off the road?"
It sure looked like it could be something serious. The sight of beams of lights jumping off the trees and lighting up the men's faces made me think of some crime TV show episode. Maybe they were searching for a body or something.

We were wrong. It was a stray cow, escaped from the farmer's pasture and wandering the roadside, eluding the men's grasps and causing obvious frustration. One man even had a huge branch he was trying to herd it with. My mom and I laughed so hard our bellies hurt.






MH (my nine year old sister, for those who don't know) is getting to that age where she's really starting to care what she looks like. And usually, that involves looking like me. When I got bangs, she wanted bangs. It's actually kind of comical.

Her new thing is wanting to wear my clothes. My clothes. And headbands. And shoes. And she's about . . . sixty-five pounds and I'm about . . . a little more than sixty-five pounds. Needless to say, she's been grasping at straws.

Today, she left the house for school after shopping through my closet. At first she wanted to wear this long, olive green, toggle-buttoned sweater--you know, one of those "dusters" that were popular when I was about thirteen and now just functions as my bathrobe. "All the girls at school wear long sweaters though, Ruth--and with leggings! I can just roll up the sleeves!" I politely declined, deciding not to tell her that said "girls at school" were probably fourth-grade brats who would make fun of her for showing up to school looking like a stocking-ed hobo.

Instead, I pulled out a blue and white striped button-down and asked her if she wanted to try that instead. (Hey, I know what it's like to be a little sister that just drools over every single thing your older sister owns, just because it's an older sister's. I'll placate her.) She readily agreed, put it on over a little-girl t-shirt (remember those?!), tied a white belt around it, and paired it with white leggings that had lace at the bottom. I think she even posed in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes, clearly happy with her decision.

Of course, she ruined it by wearing clunky white sneakers with it all (this little girl's got big feet and spindly little legs, and she is just nine), but it still made me smile. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?




Today is my boss's birthday. I made a card and had all the other teachers sign it, and my kids made her their own card, and I brought her these cherry-red alstroemeria all wrapped up with a bow (even though I would loooove to have them on my own desk!).

She said in the past she hasn't ever really worked on her birthday, always taking the day off. Today though, she said her boss remembered her birthday, everyone at Central Office was wishing her a happy birthday, and now she got flowers and cards.

She said maybe working on your birthday isn't so bad, after all.

I hope my birthday won't be so bad, after all, either.




Happy Tuesday!




(Photos via ClothPaperString)