Expletives deleted

My girls have potty mouths. Lucky for me, though, they've made up their own curse words that aren't likely to offend the random, non-family eavesdropper.

"Nah Gobbit!" the baby yells when she's upset. And then she stomps her foot.

"Quit off," the toddler says, in a voice dripping with contempt and worthy of the most sullen teenage drama queen. (Boy, it'll be fun when we hit that age for real!)

On the one hand, I should probably discourage all this salty talk: Even if the words are nonsense, the intent shines through in their tone; they ought to learn to speak civilly. On the other hand, I like that they don't hold things in. I always did.

Still. There must be a happy medium around here somewhere that doesn't involve swearing, lol.


~RCH~

Home On the Range

I dragged the girls with me to Cache Valley today for a little fake bridesmaid dress shopping, and we listened to their CD of old timey cowboy music all the way there. I got all misty eyed, thinking of my former home, at the following verse:

Where the air is so pure
and the Zephyrs so free
and the breezes so bonny and light
that I would not exchange
my home on the range
for all of your cities so bright!

Which is kind of funny, considering that we lived in a city of 200k before and we're in a rural county of 6k now. Still, my home on the range was there -- on the beautiful prairies, the high plains of West Texas -- however suburban it may have been. Not here.

Maybe someday songs about living in the Shadow of the Everlasting Hills will make me well with nostalgic tears for our current home. I do love it here. But right now I kind of miss Texas.


~RCH~

Lookin' for love in all the wrong places

I've found new art sites to pour over in my endless quest for the perfect living room adornment. Problem is, I'm looking at all the wrong stuff: DH (who wants mass produced religious prints handsomely framed) and I (who want original, unique abstract or non-literal paintings) have allegedly compromised; I'm supposed to be hunting up original, unique art that is at the same time religious or at least spiritual in nature.

But I keep getting sidetracked by the Natasha Wescoats and the Pamela Brookes and the adorable Wendy Ryans of the world.

D'oh.

And even that is me being restrained. There are plenty of non-figurative abstracts I'm drawn to -- huge canvases of color -- that I don't even stop to drool over because I know they won't find a place in my house. These, while they probably won't end up in my living room (hey wait, nuns are religious!) might someday find a niche here. Maybe.

*Sigh!*


~RCH~