Category Archives: Diversions

The stuff that didn’t fit elsewhere.

Flotsam / Jetsam, Screen time

On movies, dishes, dads and seeds

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  • We saw “Up in the Air” last night. It was a well-made movie, I suppose, but I found it pretty depressing. Possibly because Rockford is on the road quite a bit, and now I’m going to have to assume he’s cuddling on a boat whenever he’s away. (Even if it’s Milwaukee in February.) It was, however, not such a chore to watch 1 hour and 49 minutes of the entirely dreamy George Clooney.
  • Wow, there are a lot of dishes sitting on the counter, waiting to be washed.
  • I’ve been having smoothies every morning for breakfast. My frozen fruit stock is down to blueberries and raspberries this morning, which means I’m having a Very Seedy Smoothie. Like, Harvey Keitel in “Monkey Trouble” seedy. In other words, way seedy.
  • My dad has been visiting this week, and this morning he left for my brother’s, to help him with the plumbing in his own personal, never-ending episode of “This Old House.” The upshot of this for me is that there is one melancholy girl here today (and one boy who keeps saying, “Papa? Where is Papa?”)
  • I read “Shutter Island” a few years ago, and I can’t remember how it ends. This is driving me a little batso. Enough so to read it again? Unlikely. And I’m not sure I want to see the movie, because the previews creep me out quite proficiently.
  • Also. I sent an email to Phillips last week, because a light bulb in a brand-spankin’-new package was useless and also dead already. (Yes, I’m a complaint-letter person. I’m crotchety that way.) I got an email back from them this morning. It said, “Dear [ButterscotchSundaeLastName],you will receive a refun within 15 buss.days.” Which is nice and all. I like refunds. But oh the humanity, at least run some spellcheck before you hit send, Phillips.
    • Reading

    A poem for the snow(em)

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    Forecast: Six to Ten Inches
    The snow’s falling again. (A lot!)
    Am I pleased about this? (I’m not!)
    If the power goes out
    I will stomp and I’ll shout.
    And I’ll wish we’d actually bought a propane heater the last time it snowed a foot.
    And I’ll put on a few extra socks and huddle under the blankets.
    Still, I’m pleased snow’s out there and I’m not.

    Poppy just looked out the window and said, “Why is it still winter? Winter is too long a season.” And how.