Ed Roland

P.S. Adding Ed Roland of Collective Soul to the Sexy Men roster. He looks great, but it's his voice and his creativity that make him truly...well...sexy. I have most of their CD's. Click that link, it's excellent.

I know at least one person who will appreciate this post

Song of the Day: Perfect Day - Collective Soul

Btw, I love some of the words used to describe various numbers: perfect, sociable, amicable, deficient, practical, irrational, real, complex, transcendental. Many of those words I'd use to describe people I know, or even myself (ya, ya, practical does not describe me, nor perfect unless you subscribe to the paradox of perfection)

Sunday - ugh wth

If you're not in the mood for a rant, look at the pretty, happy daisy above and stop here.

Not sure what happened today but it went south probably around midnight of last night and just kept going.

Synopsis -Things that bug me today:
Men
The dog
Kids - wth, they're on a whole different page today.
Headaches
Weather
My Dad
Housework
Dating
My new cell phone - my god, it really sucks

Men - I unexpectedly ran into a guy I recently dated (it was brief, but I liked him, we had a lot of fun). He dropped contact for about a month, sans a few text messages here and there. I ran into him in a part of town I rarely go to, it was total chance. He lit up like sunshine, bear-hugged me twice during the course of our conversation, smelled my hair as he squeezed me for the second time and said feelingly, "God, I miss you!"

wtf.

Give me a real guy, a responsible, strong, warm, employed, plays hard, works hard, loves hard, sexy in that strong-capable sort of way, intelligent & curious kind of guy who says what he means and does what he says. I'm not hung up on appearance - bear-hugger up there is 5'9 and built like a bulldog (adorably so). Argh.

Kids - sons in particular - are making me feel like a piece of furniture. The LOVES OF MY LIFE are being obtuse, ungrateful twerps. Gah, being a mom is painful sometimes.

Dog - she's ok, she just can tell I'm annoyed today and won't stop following me around because it worries her.

Headache - self explanatory

Weather - sucks, and possible cause of headache

Dad - stress factor, possible cause of headache

Housework - not done (thanks kids!)

Dating - well, yeah, see above.

Cell phone - *tosses it*

I'm going out. Buh-bye housework, boys- feed yourselves, dog *pat*, pleasegodletthis headachestop, and men? I live in the land of men - there are 4(?) men for every woman here, but here's the thing: The odds are good, but the goods are odd.

Song of the day (Ignore vid, yadayada, just listen): Wolfsheim - Blind

What does one do at 1am when it's still daylight?

Listen to music, of course. Possibly one of the best songs ever: DMB: Lie in Our Graves , off the Crash album.

It really is still daylight - it's nearing the longest day of the year (June 21) and it's light all the freaking time here. It's amazing/crazy/wonderful/slightly disturbing even after living here most of my life. I love this time of year. After the Summer Solstice on June 21 we'll begin the slow shift back into darkness. We'll have dark nights by August, and it'll slip faster into dark days of winter. So we live a little differently for now, up at all hours doing all sorts of things. This weird time of daylight stirs me up, makes me restless. It's great.

Would you not like to be
sittin' on top of the world
with your legs hanging free?

Some people don't like Dave Matthews, but I do, though it's a particular few albums. Whether it's the stuff I like or the stuff I don't, there's no denying they're great musicians. I love the words to this song, but the music is amazing. I also love Crash Into Me.

Dave Matthews is on my list of Sexy Men, btw.

Meandering thoughts

I'm taking a page from a fellow blogger's book and throwing up one post to bump another that really shouldn't stay at the top of my blog for very long ;)

My family on my mother's side descends from clan Campbell of Scotland - a number of generations ago my greatblahblahgreat grandmother Margaret Campbell eloped with the estate gardener, who was also named Campbell. They left Scotland and headed for Ontario, Canada. When my kids were small I had time and energy to explore family heritage a little. I visited cemeteries and found headstones of my predecessors, read clan histories, and quizzed elderly family members. My mom gave me an old family bible that was her great-grandmother's - a big book, you have to sit it in your lap to leaf through it. It contained a wealth of information about my family.

Not being particularly religious, it's a little surprising to me that I have somehow acquired a small collection of old family bibles. They're old books, and that appeals to me - they smell good, and feel good. They've been passed down and held by many hands. But what's most to me interesting is that they also serve as a history of sorts.

Back then, the bible was a focal point of family life. In addition to the usual readings and lessons the family may have enjoyed, it was a place of record keeping that was handed down from generation to generation. This old bible of my grandmother's has a long list of births and deaths posted on the inside cover. Between the pages there are wedding announcements, birth and death announcements, notes, awards, newspaper articles, feathers, photographs, napkins, legal paperwork, and all sorts of other goodies that someone felt important enough to slip in this book that stayed with the family.

I learned a lot about my family flipping through those pages. When things happened, and to whom. What was important enough to keep or record. Most of the family tree I constructed was the result of this record keeping. Each time I perused the book I found something I'd missed; it was fun and intriguing.

I have an old wool tartan that my mom was kind enough to pass on to me - I don't know how old it is, but it was my great-grandmother's at one point. I curl up under it on cool nights - my kids have grown up knowing it as the 'precious blanket' and know that it never ends up on the floor or under the dog.

I love old things that have belonged to those before us, I hold on to them. I hadn't realized I'd instilled this sort of reverence in my kids to some degree - they each have a few 'precious things' they've already accumulated in their young lives, things that speak to them of family connections and their history. It's neat.

Derrrrrtay

Breasts heaving, body slick with perspiration, hair tumbling wildly about her face, she leans back and releases a content sigh. Her eyes close a moment, lips parted as she catches her breath, and she gives a small giggle, as she often does after the culmination of satisfying physical exertion.

She reaches over and wraps her fingers around the neck of a cool bottle of beer, frosty with condensation. She tilts her head back, the bottle pressed to her lips, and drinks slowly, hair falling down her back save for a few stray locks that cling to the damp skin of her neck. She relishes the taste and feel of the bubbles rushing down her throat. She turns to the one beside her, face flushed, eyes bright, and gives a languid smile accompanied by another small, satisfied giggle. She breathes, "Good girl."

That's right - I dug up my flower beds AND got them planted. And my dog, Ginger, "helped".

Now to get all the dirt out from under my fingernails. And hair. And wherever else I got it, I think there's some down my shirt.

Work Sucketh

Enjoy some Saturday for me.

I'm at work, it's gorgeous outside and I want to be home murdering dandelions. People ask, "why don't you have the boys mow the lawn?" but I actually LIKE doing it. We never had a yard growing up (all trees), and I love how fresh cut grass smells. And there's something about mowing that appeals to the OCD in me - I have this horrible feeling I'd enjoy being one of those people who mows baseball fields into neat patterns. I don't have a ridey mower though, just an old mower my Grandfather rebuilt that I have to talk to nicely to get started. It gets the job done.

It's good exercise, which I negate with the ice-cold Corona I savor after I'm done (oh that tastes good). Collapse in a deck chair, sip cold beer, gaze out over the fruits of my labor. Also, I figure if I do the mowing, they're stuck with dishes (hooray).

I saw "Hangover" last night - what a riot.