"You know, in Werewolves of London, 'little old lady got noodle-ated late last night,'..."
Oh, honey, that's "mutilated" not "noodle-ated." Like attacked and hurt by the werewolf.
"Oh, ok, mom, thanks..."
Well, that's interesting.
Jeremiah had a good practice, and I didn't ask how old Sam the Skunk and Noodles are, because I didn't want to know how old stuffed animals have to be to kiss. Call me old fashioned.
The whole weekend seemed suffused with little miracles. Probably just because I was in a good mood. But on Sunday in church we reflected on what is sacred to us. And the answer for myself and many others seemed to be related to the science of life itself, or even just the very existence of life in this universe. "We are stardust, we are golden" in the lyrics of another song. And then I gardened:
These are the plants I bought with the kids Sunday afternoon, who PROMISED to help me plant them...until they saw the neighbor kids out playing when we arrived home from Casey's Garden Store with these beauties. They are all planted now (the plants, not the kids) in a small vegetable garden along the south fence, around the deck in flower beds, and in a pot (red petunias for Sierra.)
Then I soaked my morning glory seeds. Every year I plant morning glories. I adore them. To me, the great miracle of the universe is that you can take these:
and by August you get this:
times about 500.
And another gardening miracle this year is that my garden is planted before my neighbor has his planted. Gary is a great neighbor who is kind of obsessed with his yard and garden. He always has a fabulous vegetable garden in before everyone else and seems to be harvesting before I've even turned over any dirt. But this year Gary has a new girlfriend. So his garden looks like this today, while mine is actually planted:
And what's great is, we are both smiling about that!