so many things to love...: 7 Quick Takes

1. Let it be known that I've finally figured out, in a rush of understanding, that 'gormless' means a particularly dopey kind of stupid. Because I am the sort of person who yells at a child to "get me the thing...gah! You know, the, the thing in the thing! IT'S PURPLE!!!", I function almost entirely via a complicated set of rules and mnemonic devices. Did you know, for example, that 'etymology ' and 'entomology ' can be differentiated because in Tolkien the Ents were alive and entomology is the study of insects, which are alive? Although likely not as many as were alive before the entomologists got their hands on them. Etymology is the study of words, btw, but that's not particularly important because really, if you say etymology in most circles you either have a group of people who already know what you're talking about, and would be just as happy if you said something else, or a group of people who have no idea what you're talking about and then you sound like a real drip. Whereas entomology is a very useful word and you can use it all the time. "Boy, that's a dishy entomologist on the BBC, eh?" See? Just used it.

2. Last Friday we visited my mother. My mother is ill, and it is not the sort of ill that will get better or go away or anything like that, but is the sort of ill that just is, now. It is reality. I've become a little obsessed with taking my mother on walks and asking her if she remembers various pleasant memories from my childhood and I tend to wrack my brain coming up with them. Did you remember a particular walk we used to take, or a funny thing a long dead childhood pet did, or a specific flower that grew in the garden. And while this exercise seems somewhat pointless (she always smiles and says yes) it has brought up in my mind how very many happy little memories I contain. So many. And I believe this is God's grace to me, right now, that my mother will not get better, but that I will be blessed with a fountain of happy things to remind her of. A fountain that will never run dry.

3) I suppose it's official that we have a dog. The dog was dog-sat, then the dog stayed, as dogs often do. Mind you, my husband and I are a pretty soft touch for such a disagreeable looking duo. Actually, that's not fair, we have a certain panache. Under kind lighting and on a good hair day I can manage Brittle '50s Italian Housewife, although my standard look is a little more Especially Poor Oxford Undergrad circa 1918. But often with pants. My husband, on the other hand, is 100% Absent-minded Professor. Except, and I take full blame for this, in a giant, oversized pea-green outdoorsman coat made out if what appears to be sail cloth. I bought him the coat to replace the coat he refused to part with, lovingly nicknamed 'the homeless person coat', which sported a matted fake fur trimmed hood, a partially ripped off pocket, and a giant ink stain. In my defense the ruse worked and the homeless person coat, which no self-respecting displaced individual would willingly wear, went to the dump. And now he wears the huge green tarp everywhere in blatant disregard for style, fashion, social acceptibility and the formality of the occasion. It doesn't bother me, except for when he broke the zipper and hired the town seamstress to fix it and she inserted a zipper that only zipped down to the end but then wouldn't detach, which meant my husband (who refused to complain or ask for it to be fixed) just stepped into the coat, and then zipped it up. Challenging to do in dress clothes, as you might imagine. Not that he'd care if you stared. But then one day a few weeks ago the zipper just unzipped all the way, just like a normal zipper! After five years of stepping into the coat! Will wonders never cease.

4) The dog, anyway, likes to always be touching me. She likes to sit beside me and put a paw on my foot, or follow me from room to room. Since the cat also does this, the children have taken to referring to 'the parade', which is me, two animals, three children, and the weight of my to-do list.

5) Last week my husband's aunt passed away, which is sad. She was the last of that clan and had been unwell for quite a long time, but none of that really matters a bit in the end when you're mourning death. However, the opportunity rose for me to send flowers to the funeral, and I have to admit I haven't really had to do this before. Usually we're either performing the funeral or we're there because the person was close family, but I have never sent flowers in lieu of my presence before, and I have to say it was a mixed experience. For one thing, if you haven't got at least $100 don't even bother. Plus, the arrangements are almost all hideous. And forgive me, but M. was a vibrant, creative, interesting person and I'm not sending a big ol' pile of baby pink carnations. So I ended up picking an arrangement of shocking orange 'Asiatic Lilies' which honestly appear to be what we know as 'ditch lilies' that grow in such profusion here that some people mow them down. I'm not sure if this will cause some talk because I don't think this is likely an acceptable funeral arrangement, but fortunately I think M. would have liked it so I don't care.

6) No, I tried, but I have to be petty and show you some of these horrible arrangements because I'm not a nice person...

This one: