Wednesday, September 03, 2014

From The Blog-O-Sphere

This is a bang-up edition of From The Blog-O-Sphere, if I do say so myself.

Let’s wade right in, shall we?

You need kids.

Did you read the Little House on the Prairie series when you were little? I read them over and over and over.  A new autobiography of Laura Ingalls is being published.

Note to self: How To Be Polite.

This is where I fess up to drinking box wine. And loving it. Bota boxes, wootThe Modest Pleasures of Drinking Boxed Wine.

Beautiful, amazing song/video of the day. 

Aww, newborns. They are so adorable. You’re probably not going to want kids after reading this blog post. Sorry, peeps.

Let’s hear it for the badass female viking warriors. How does this affect the ‘rape and pillage’ line of thinking?

Mermaids and sharks: when wildlife documentaries blur the line between reality and fiction. 

The dawn of the post-clinic abortion. 

I was super proud that our little Ben hiked 4.4 miles on Sunday. And then there are the folks that are in a whole ‘nother league: Maine family completes the Appalachian Trail. 

Chris could have written this article: Dear Person Seated in 6D

Reflections on the shooting range death from one who knows. 

Goo goo gaga: Pretending to understand what babies say makes them smarter. 

In our world, Emma is pulling herself into a standing position and this morning she taught herself the fine art of blowing raspberries. She’s been practicing. All. Day. Long. Everything is covered in slobber.

We also tried to get her a passport photo from our neighborhood shop. The guy gave up after 12 attempts. Fail. Can’t keep a good baby down. Or still, in this particular case.

She’s gotten pretty good at crawling too, and I’ve dubbed her our 'stealth baby'. Just when I think I have a few minutes to myself to check email, I’ll look up and she’s quietly and determinedly peering around the door jamb.  This babe can make it down a hallway in no time flat. You can almost hear her muttering: “Operation Find-The-Milk-Lady, commence!".

Last night I suited up and removed a low-hanging paper wasp nest from one of our trees. Usually I wouldn’t mind its presence, but poor R got stung twice while mowing the lawn and Bailey has been fastidiously avoiding that area. Sorry, waspies. They met a quick end in a bucket of water. I saw one insect forlornly circling the former homestead last night but so far she’s the only orphan.

We took Ben to my all-time favorite sushi restaurant tonight. He wanted none of it and had the gall (the gall, I tell you!) to ask for a ‘real dinner’ as we were driving home. Tear my heart out, kid.