My New Sewing Room

I am a terrible liar. I laugh when I lie. And I usually laugh when someone accuses me of lying, which of course, only makes me look guilty. My kids know that my "tell" is laughing. We have a friend who repeatedly nibbles at his lower lip when he lies, it's his "tell". He just doesn't try to lie to us anymore, which of course, is a good thing. It is surprising when I can prank one of my kids, because I usually start laughing the second they come into the room. They say, "What are you up to?" Which only makes me laugh harder. It's pathetic really. So, when I told my middle daughter who is going away to college (boohoo - all the way to Florida) that I was turning her room into a sewing room and I didn't even crack a smile, she believed me. She was very insulted that I already had plans for her room before she was even out the door. But I immediately felt bad that she felt bad so I confessed it was a joke and I started to laugh. She didn't believe me that it was a joke. You see, I didn't laugh when I lied, which I usually do, and then I did laugh when I told her the truth, which I don't usually do, so she thinks I'm turning her room into a sewing room when she leaves. Every time I tell her I'm not going to, I laugh, which makes me look guilty. . . I don't know why I laugh, I can't help it. Maybe I'm lying to myself and I really am going to turn her room into a sewing room . . . hahahaha . . . just . . . hahaha . . . kidding . . . hahaha . . . honey. . . hahahaha . . .

What Did You Learn In Kindergarten?

I have heard folks saying, "all I really needed to know I learned in kindergarten." Well, I have to say I disagree. In kindergarten I ate like a slob, I hated napping, I hit others when I didn't get my way, I made messes that I left for others to clean up, I didn't listen, I lied, I picked my nose and I forgot my address. In fact, my report card from kindergarten states that I knew my name and address the first semester, but not the second semester. Obviously, I needed to learn beyond kindergarten. And beyond that, I needed to learn some important stuff that you just don't learn in school. Did you know that when you throw a party for 65 people it's the coffee and cake that matters more than the dinner food? Did you know that honoring the "guest of honor" with an embarrassing but heart-felt poem is more touching a gift than a jewel? Did you know that greeting your guests with sincere enjoyment is better than sounding trumpets to announce them? Did you know that love is the most important ingredient in party preparation? Do you know where I learned all this from? Not from my teachers, not from my friends, not from Emily Post . . . I learned from watching my mother. Thanks Mom, I hope you enjoyed the party even though that monster moth seemed to love you as much as I do . . .

Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With Monster sunflowers!! I never understood why Mary was so contrary. Her garden grew well. She had someone care enough about her to ask her how her garden grew. She even had silver bells. What more did Mary need? Sheesh! My garden, as you can see, is growing quite well. My daughter is about 5 and 1/2 feet tall and the sunflowers tower over her. My watermelons are quite delicious and I have more tomatoes than I can handle. The green beans must be close cousins to Jack's magic beans because they are also giant. All these, plus some pepper plants, were planted in our community garden plot. Through the hard work of a very dedicated and loving family, a community is growing together. Literally. Naturally, we have the best plot, not because our garden is better than anyone else's (actually far from it), just because we are right next to the water spigot. Location, location, location. I have been tricking my kids all summer. I say, "Will you come with me to the store, I'll get you a milkshake on the way home?" They say, "Okay." And when they are belted in and we are driving down the street, I say, "Oh, I have to stop at the garden first." (hee-hee) Sometimes they are quite contrary. . .