It’s nice to have a quiet moment. To sip some hot tea and nibble on a leftover brekkie and share with people what a small fragment of my day has been like. Do people look over this and think a lot has gone on or only very little? Do I really care? Only because I’m paranoid lol.
Today is the 21st. It’s Friday. Monday is the 25th and release date for Mass Effect II or whatever they’re calling it. Wednesday is the 27th. I must have repeated these, apparently little known, facts a thousand times this morning and it’s not even 9am. Well, the Mass Effect thing is more a mental tally. Report cards need to be signed, permission slips need to be returned and one of us (us being parental units) needs to say we’ll go to the science fair thingie at the Elfling’s school. Apparently it should be a male…cause, of course, only guys can show girls the fascinations of science. That or the school finds mom’s do most of it so make the male side of the clan get off their arse and do something with the kiddies.
Conversation while I tried not to scald myself getting hot soup together for lunch seemed to focus on…of all things…owl vomit. The Diva was convinced that owls were first imaginary – like vampires, she said. And then her big fear was that they were human eating birds. I really should look into the games E’s played to see where she got that idea from. The Elfling is fascinated by the opportunity being presented to dissect the stuff at the above mentioned science fair thingie…god I hope E decides he can go to it instead of me. I dissected rat balls in high school and really don’t know I want to continue the legacy by deviling into puke to see what bones I may find.
Stepping out for the walk to school was a shock. I don’t know I’ve seen fog this thick since
Out of nowhere she mentions that chickens can lay regular eggs, a statement that left me amused as I had no idea what other eggs they would lay. She went on to explain that regular eggs are what chickens lay when they have no husband rooster. We wound up having an interesting conversation in regards to chicken families. I about fell over laughing when she declared that chickens are wives, roosters are husbands and baby chickens are called chicklips. It wasn’t till I saw the red light of brakes that I made out the car ahead. The mom of one of the Diva’s friend offered her a ride to school and let’s face it – who really wants to walk?
Taking on my confused dog, I took the long way home which cheered her up considerably when she realized we weren’t going straight to the house. The downside to the long way home is we have to pass this strange house that seems to always have the weirdest garbage out...well…I don’t know it’s necessarily garbage but food remains on their front lawn. It’s usually been like, bones (like chicken or pork) and bread…that’s all I really want to remember. Didn’t really notice what today’s mess du jour was but it left me dragging Freya to the next yard as she frantically sniffed and licked the grass. Making my way home in the still quiet, foggy neighbourhood I have to say one thing that really surprised me is how few people use their headlights in this weather. It reminds me of this one foggy day when I was a young driver. At an intersection I looked for oncoming traffic before making a turn only to just nearly miss getting hit by a speeding truck that blended perfectly with the fog. Scared the shit out of me.
I was in a bit of a rush this morning so I didn’t get the kitchen tidied up as I usually do before heading out on the walk to school. Checking the water in my electric kettle I decided it was hot enough for a cup of tea and set it brewing while whisking up dishes into the dishwasher and wiping down counters. Pausing at my tea cup, I couldn’t help but wonder if the water was hot enough given its incredibly slow fusion. The heat at my pinkie suggested otherwise as I contemplated the remnants of the Diva’s brekkie and set her piece of toast aside. Adding a spoonful of sugar to my tea, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. Even now I type between battles and sips of cooled tea I feel it. I remember tea as a child – early mornings with my Madrinha; those hard, ever so slightly sweet cookies I call biscots with o chá com açúcar e leite. I can almost hear her voice as I type that…see the look on her face as I’d finally succumb and take milk in my tea.
Ah well, as my friend’s blog goes – where there is tea, there is hope. Gods know, I could use a lil of that.
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