Tag Archives: photography

♥ The Weekend Adventures of Chandler Bing ♥

28 Jun

“Mommy, I’m not scared of heights,” he says…

I say, “Mr. Bing, I know.”

“Mommy, but I like the cat grass,” he says…

I say, “Mr. Bing, I can see that. You killed it.”

“Mommy, I want a nap,” he says.

“Thank Goodness,” I say.

“Mommy, Chandler Bing is an idiot…”

“I know, Mr. Wee. I know…” I sigh.

A Room Fit For A Pixie…

3 Jun

Once upon a time, there was a room…

 

It was a basement room where travelers once stayed, but after the travelers left to find a home of their own, the room sighed with loneliness and longing.

“I’ll fix you!” I exclaimed. “You will be fit for even the pickiest of guests! Even a Pixie!”

The room frowned, doubtful of my abilities to breathe life back into his lonely walls – his bare, dented being.

I just shook my head, using the room’s doubt to fuel my ambitions.

All day I worked, lathering the walls, scrubbing the floor. Soon, soft surfaces began to appear within his bare heart: fabrics, curtains, and plush pillows for warmth.

I saw the room grin, though he did not mean for me to see it. He did not want me to know that I was right – I could fix it!

When the work was done I stood back with a sigh, admiring the beauty of the rooms new heart.

 ♥

The room caved in. “Thank you,” he breathed happily, a glint of a giggle in the voice.

I nodded with satisfaction. It was indeed a room fit for the pickiest of Pixie’s…

My mother.

I.O.U. Greek Salad Recipe: A Parody on the Economy…

12 May

After a satisfying italian meal on the deck last night, my husband turned to me and said:

“Man, I’m craving a Greek salad, and not just any Greek salad, but an I.O.U. Greek salad.”

My brows stitched together. “What’s an I.O.U. Greek salad?” I asked.

A half smile crept across his face. “What, you don’t know?”

I shook my head, feeling dumb for asking.

He sat up, placed his plate on the table and took a sip of wine. “Well, First you take over 100 billion American Tax-payer dollars and put it in a I.M.F. blender and blend until you can’t tell its American Tax-payer dollars anymore. Then, you mix it with a couple billion European Tax-payer dollars and you sprinkle it over a mound of Greek I.O.U.’s with feta, tomatoes, and cucumber, then garnish with a toasted pita.” He sat back, rubbing his tummy and licking his lips. “Sounds good, doesn’t it? Sure to be a global blowout.”

My eyes grew wide. “It does! But… it sounds a bit scandalous.”

He chuckled. “Well of course. That’s what makes it so tart and delicious, but I should warn you, though it looks healthy, it’s crammed with fat.”

I frowned. “Well, okay then. I’ll make it, I suppose.” I rubbed my tummy, not wanting to gain the weight of it.

He chuckled again, this time in a darker tone. “It’s not like you have any choice.”