Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Randomly Enough

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These days it takes us 5-10 minutes just to get out the door.  We live on the first floor (up one flight of stairs--21 to be exact.  I've had lots of time to count them recently) and Claire now insists on making the trip up and down all on her own.  She has one hand firmly on the rail and I hold the other.  She still teeters and falls and I have to catch her a couple of times going up and down.  It would be frustrating except that every time we do it I remind myself that I am just getting closer and closer to my dream of packing her with a little backpack so that she can help lugging the groceries up that narrow staircase.

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Do not buy this book unless you want to


1) Make amazing artesiean bread in no time and with little to no effort.  Delicious bread with a thick crunchy crust (On Saturday we ate it with homemade yogurt and it was like being in France)
2) Make the best pizza dough I have ever tasted and I have been to Italy more than once
3) Step on the scale 2 weeks after having the book arrive to find yourself 3lbs heavier than you were when it arrived.

Consider yourself warned.

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So remember when I went to the dentist and he drilled into my tooth and a stench like you would not believe filled the room?  And I was diagnosed with periodontal disease?  Well, this week I went back to the dentist for my checkup and things are going well.  Turns out my gums are reattaching themselves to my teeth.  It does show the sad state of things that I'm calling it a successful dentist appointment because the only super duper gross thing that happened was they jammed a slow release antibiotic under my gums to help with the reattachment.

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Two nights ago at 2 am when Claire was up for the 4th time and screaming and screaming and the only thing that would calm her was rocking and singing I busted out another and perhaps the most brilliant piece of my brainwashing repertoire.  For those of you who are not going to watch the video I'll just put the lyrics right here for you to commit to memory.  Somehow singing this as a lullaby makes 2 am way easier to stomach


First thing I remember knowing,
Was a lonesome whistle blowing,
And a young un's dream of growing up to ride;
On a freight train leaving town,
Not knowing where I'm bound,
No-one could change my mind but Mama tried.
One and only rebel child,
From a family, meek and mild:
My Mama seemed to know what lay in store.
Despite all my Sunday learning,
Towards the bad, I kept on turning.
'Til Mama couldn't hold me anymore.

I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.
No-one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried.
Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading, I denied.
That leaves only me to blame 'cos Mama tried.

Dear old Daddy, rest his soul,
Left my Mom a heavy load;
She tried so very hard to fill his shoes.
Working hours without rest,
Wanted me to have the best.
She tried to raise me right but I refused.

And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.
No-one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried.
Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading, I denied.
That leaves only me to blame 'cos Mama tried.


2 comments:

  1. I have to agree! That bread is the stuff that dreams are made of!

    ReplyDelete
  2. We love that book and the healthy bread companion book, and yes, my midsection is evidence that we use it a bit too.

    ReplyDelete