She Flew on a Fine Gander

What? Mother Goose did of course, don't you remember?

I grew up with a dear Mama that read to me endlessly and encouraged my appetitive for books as I grew bigger. I loved that thin paper of our Book Orders, Personal Pan Pizzas, the pretty displays at the Book Fair...I was definitely the child that felt a dizzy spell coming on when we got to go to the School Library as a class. I was not, however the sweet obedient one that sat in the circle and listened to some bologna about the dewey decibel system (come on, I eventually learned it!). I was the one that recognized an opportunity to escape, in the distraction of a lecture, into the mysteries of exotic places. One such place I remember was a full three book cases away from Teacher and it held the entire collection of Mr Men and Little Miss books. They happened to be so small that they fit in my hands perfectly.  There was also the turn-style where I was introduced to Greek Mythology, the very bottom shelf in the back where I found the first copy of The Secret Garden I had ever known, and the list goes on infinitely.

 Back to reality. And the reality is that Oliver couldn't care less about reading stories (well being read to). His passion lies somewhere between crawling up and down off the rocker as I sit in it and yanking all the books out of the self; sometimes one by one, sometimes by the arm-full.  I don't mind this as much as one might suppose-I'm reading children's books after all! Instead of getting frustrated that he slams the book closed and waddles off to destroy something nearby, I just continue reading. He will walk by occasionally to look at the pictures I'm ranting on about, give me a look like "Hmm, its OK I guess" and walk off again.

I'm not sure if he is destined to inherit his Father's Condition of un-voracious-reader-ness, but It might be possible.  When we got pregnant, it seems, was when I started to quote Mother Goose. It was at this moment that my eyes were opened to the fact that maybe not everyone was brought up with these classics, but I'm not fully convinced. Andrew would stare and I'm fancied him thinking,"What on Earth could she be saying now?" When Andrew reads to Oliver it seems like Old M. Goose usually makes an appearance. I can't hold back giggling as he insists on exaggerating how horrible they sound without an English accent.
Here are some facts about the old girl:


1) The first book published with a title of "Mother Goose" was by Charles Perrault in 1695 and was French.
2) In 1729 it was translated into English
3) Some stories originally included were: Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots, and Cinderella
4)Obviously Charles Perrault was freaking awesome
5) "Mother Goose's Melody" came out in 1781 and changed the focus from fairy tales to rhymes and is how we know the collection today- more or less.
6) The year we signed the Constitution, the first American edition was printed (1787)
7) Old women in Wales used to dress just like this

Oliver's style of "active storytime" suits me fine, w/ or w/o Mother Goose.  The moments where he seems really interested are just plain exciting and one day I know that he will either become interested or that I can always know I tried. As for right now I'm satisfied. Rocking Chair, sweet stories, beautiful pictures, a cozy room, and a freshly bathed fat little boy to keep me company- that sounds like the makings of a good children's book to me.

Honey, please drink this.

I told my husband last night that we are officially in the nerd category (yeah, I know you already knew that). He said no, no we're not Paige, and something else defending us, but really we must face facts. Those are:  Both of us are suffering through some very endearing symptoms of allergies and I can't stop drinking Honey-Lemon Tea.

Remember Sleepless in Seattle?- I'm talking Bill Pullman Meg Ryan and not Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Well thats us. You can read right below if you care to know what triggered this romantic scene. We are just not pretty.

Well, the point is that the first thing I think of when I have a throat in need of some love is that delicious tea. My English-blooded Mama used to make it whenever I felt yucky and I swear by it. It has been a mission in my life since we got married for me to open Andrew's eyes to this light.  Nope. "I don't like it" he says. "Yuck" he says. "Go drink it yourself" he says. On and on like this you see...meanwhile his poor throat is just getting left out until...

Today was a new day, obviously but you know what I mean. I am still patting myself on the back as we speak b/c apparently my very appetizing descriptions, endearing pleas, and regurgitation of the medical benefits of this elixir combined to get him to drink an entire mug- full.  I think you'll like it too.

Honey-Lemon Tea

1  Mug
Water
1  Lemon (bottled juice will do-but its another ball game)
1  little plastic bear full of honey
spoon

Get the tap running as hot as it will go and fill your mug. I find I feel much better if I use an especially pretty one.  Cut the lemon in half and squeeze half the juice into the water (1 tbsp?), don't fret about the seeds you can skim them off with your spoon.  Pour about 3 think swirls of honey in (1 tbsp?) and stir.

This is obviously a loose recipe as it's all to taste. My mom made it a little weaker and I like it pretty strong. After I researched why this stuff works (especially for colds or the flu), I don't think twice about loading it up- HELLO delicious! Here is what I learned:

1) Both Honey and Lemon each have anti-bacterial properties
2) Lemon acts as a pain reliever
3) Honey is a natural energy booster (it's glucose gives you quick energy and it's fructose sustains blood sugar over a long period)
4) Honey creates a moisture barrier preventing drying (poor throat!)
5) Honey and Lemon are anti-oxidant rich and boost your immune system.
6) It is tasty, tasty, tasty. especially when some lemon pulp is in there- but thats just me.


I don't think that Andrew will be joining me for high-tea anytime soon, but at least now we can enjoy a delicious cup in the midst of our allergic nerdy-ness.

About a Bed

Now, last year we had a baby. So this year we had tax return to speak of and after all the neccesities (I know I'm not the only one who actually LOVES paying off debt-yipee!) were taken care of we thought of a treat. "Lets go crazy", said He. "Yeah, something totally wild!" She exclaimed. A bed was the decision. A memory foam bed to be exact. Now here is where our journey with fumes begins.

If I'm in the market, I scour. Every article, every review, showrooms, shop window you name it and chances are it's been part of my homework. If you too are thinking about purchasing a bed of any kind this was in my opinion the most concentrated body of info- quick, to the point, clear.

In the end of course we yearned for a Tempurpedic (I do believe it is the best), but werent willing to put the money on that yearning. We opted for a Spa Sensations model (which ranks very very high etc etc.) for a steal at ...GASP...Walmart.com. Alas, it is too pleasant a night to get into anything depressing about Walmart and I'm sure we can handle just letting that shock pass. It was 325.00$ people, and we were in it for the money. It arrived (compressed in a bag) and b/c we had heard it let off an odor for a short time after all the packaging came off we left it in the garage for 48 hours.

The joy- pure joy- we felt as we lept into...ok no we thudded into our new bed. Just like a Tempurpedic this bed is firm to the touch and then, when warmed by your body heat, molds. so after the initial weirdness wore off it was pretty much divine. It felt just like the expensive models at the showroom.

2 days pass and this story ends abruptly. We carted the bed away in the middle of the night just to get it out of the house in fact.

Why? Both my husband and I woke on Sunday feeling like total crap...after a nap even worse...and then the next morning still worse. The funny part is that we both didn't want to tell the other we felt bad or that we thought it was the bed! I had the bedroom door closed for a day and when I walked in the fumes were asphyxiating- the bed was nasty piece of work in the end. We might just be extremely sensitive, very possible. I personally would not recommend it in good faith to anyone, mostly b/c China is not exactly known for their strict product safety controls.

So we decided that just b/c it is possible to "get used to" second hand cigarette smoke it doesn't mean the problem goes away even though your perception of it might. Exit poison bed. Enter old bed which now feels pretty darn good since we just laid it on top of the solid platform the foam thing needed. It lives again!

I suppose the moral of the story: if you have a crappy bed, stick some plywood underneath before you decide, "Hey I might like to die in my sleep tonight:)".

But that bed sure was sure comfy...

Maybe the moral is really: Listen to my 93 year old grandmother, and never buy Chinese.

One must begin at the beginning, no?

well. its you and me computer. im venturing out into the net-web all alone just hoping that i dont have a sandra bullock moment. but honestly i was never fantastic with journaling in the first place, so the ambition of a blog is over the top. like way over the top. however i am determined to at least dabble (which is never my problem...its the enduring after the novelty wears away that is my problem); so here is me, dabbling. two things first:

Item #1) I will be more correct in my usage of proper punctuation. Somewhere in my education I became "poetic" and cannot get that leech off my back when it comes to typing. Maybe I'm sticking it to The Man. Maybe The Man's Cousin, The (Grammar/Propriety) Woman. Whoever I have been sticking whatever to, I promise to cease.

Item #2) I will post before I feel like a complete barnacle at the end of the day. By this I mean that there must be some time after the rush of life, and the baby is sleeping, and before I become listless and lifeless and non-coherant clinging to the computer/book/knitting/husband trying not to go to bed. Childish? Uh huh. Other non-flattering adjectives? Uh-huh.

And so I have begun. No promise to make sense. No promise to be concise. Just a promise to myself to capture my thoughts right here.

I suppose it could be appropriate to show some of my little world.

Tonight: Spinach Tortellini Soup -you complete me.

Happy Baby. Stoked-on-Compters-and-Learning-about-Them Husband. Tired Self.

Now it's off to bed on our mattress that is not emitting noxious fumes. More on that later. I promise.