Confessions: Bottomless Pit

You may have heard, there is a problem with hunger and starvation in many places in the world.

Well, I am embarrassed to admit: it's my fault.

I am 5 feet tall and I weigh 110 lbs. However, in the global rationing of foodstuffs, I eat both my portion and Ethiopia's. I kid not. It is really sad. I was reminded of this a few days ago when I went to have supper at a friend's house and while still trying to be diplomatic she commented casually on my consumption. ''Wow.. you are good to eat.. heh *awkward forced chuckle*,'' as I cleaned my plate, and Anna's and her daughter's. A shameful display.

I am reminded of a comment I received from the waitress at a truck stop once. Chris and I stopped at this same truck stop when we were still dating, 2 Saturday nights in a row. The first night I ate effortlessly and completely cleaned a full pot roast meal with rolls, salad and finished off dessert and coffee afterward. The following week I only had maybe a side salad and water, and didn't finish the hot chocolate. When she came to clear the plates she asked, ''Are you done?''
''Oh yes, thanks,'' I inattentively replied.

''Really?'' came her response, ''Cause I remember you from last week, and for a little one, you sure can put it away!''

Chris of course buckled laughing. My reputation precedes me. Great.

All my years growing up it was commonly accepted and referred to among my family and close friends that I had a hollow leg. That was the only psysiological answer they found for, ''where does she put it?''

People would refer to that Purina commercial years ago about how small dogs eat twice their weight or something, a bunch more than big dogs, and likening me of course to the small dog, that the same principle must be at work in my situation.

And it hasn't changed in adulthood. It has been excused for the last four-ish years under the clauses of pregnant and breastfeeding, but really we all know that it was no different before, and it likely won't be after weaning. My dinner plates raise the eyebrows of any unsuspecting visitor, and not because the pattern is striking: one would need GPS to locate the pattern under the mountain of food.

So Africa, India: sorry.

Autumn colors

Anna quote of the day, while all us girls were out driving together.
"When I grow up I'm gonna marry someone and I'm going to drive his car."
You go girl.

This "out driving together" was so wonderful. It was like going on vacation somewhere, but only 5 minutes down the road. The fall colours here are phenomenal. This area is known for them, and has a chunk of tourism based on them. Well, this year did not disappoint! MAN they are gorgeous! Yesterday we had rain all morning and then later in the day, we went for a drive. We saw two striking rainbows in the East, a patch of yellow trees that looked like they were spray painted they were so opaque, solid, intense yellow. No branches to be seen, nothing, just LEMON yellow! My favourite part of colours here however, are the cooler tones. When I think of autumn I tended to think of mostly orange and brown leaves. Not so here! Try FUSCHIA, purple, garnet, cranberry, salmon, coral, violet, and this neon red color that reminds me of Manic Panic. And all these fantastic colours in no small quantity!
It's like the angels had a ginormous paint ball fight.

I don't know how many of you share that frame of reference. Manic Panic is a hair dye used by punks, at least the ones at my high school. Does everyone know that brand or is it just me?

Anyway, we stopped by the beach on the way home, though it was too chilly to linger. The waves were high and rough and depositing copious burgundy seaweed onto the beach. The texture and shades of the clouds hold my attention totally rapped indefinitely. Some days they put on quite a show, and this was one of those days.

I always enjoy the perspective I find the sea gives me. I always feel in my gut this weighty sense of the profundity of God's work, of his majesty and miraculous creation. It quiets me (an accomplishment) and is like a touch of the Divine, untouchable, Infinite in a harried world.
I love it.

E-Props!

Here's a shout out to Eolaí for breaking the 8 post long, 2 month drought of comments! Thanks, Bud!

For all the lurkers, I know you are there, cause I see you on my Statcounter. You're not hiding completely. I'm left to my own conjecture however of what you leave here thinking. I of course turn it to my favor.

I choose to think you're not commenting because you are stunned speechless, in awe of my wit and wisdom. Every thought is so well laid out, so complete, self-evident and instrinsically understood to be true and universal, it leaves nothing left to add to it.

Oh, and you're all self-conscious because my coloured pencil blog banner is so much cooler than most other things on the web. That's what keeps you coming back, isn't it?I know. You just can't stop looking at my awesome creation. Who could blame you.

a day lakeside

My parents-in-law have a cabin on a lake. We went there this weekend and Anna pretended to fish.

It was beautiful. I do enjoy it there, as I do pretty much anywhere with water, I've discovered. If I was a moth, it would be my light. I am drawn to it.

Another Anna quote, from when she was colouring, and pretending to write.

"Hey Mommy, I'm writing you a message. Do you know what it says?"

"No, I don't."

She looks at me like I am crazy and answers:

"Of COURse not, ya Goose, it's just all wobbly!" Meaning, she is just scribbling, cause she doesn't know how to write yet, so how could I know what it said, since it says nothing. Silly Mommy! What were you thinking!

Grammarranter

I hate words like this.

littoral \LIH-tuh-rul\, adjective:
1. Of, relating to, or on a coastal or shore region, especially a seashore.
2. A coastal region, especially the zone between the limits of high and low tides.

Doesn't it sound lovely? Yes! Great! What a great word. Let's incorporate it into our vocabulary! NO! Because I will be the only one who does it, and then when I use it, everyone will think I'm dumb and mixing it up with literal and of course making no sense when I talk. And then I will get cross at them and they will be impatient with me and it's just not worth it. I have the same problem with consonance, which, as my high school English teacher taught, is alliteration just using consonants (assonance being alliteration with vowels). But not once in my life have I been able to use the word and had someone understand that I was not saying consonants. Spelling it out, and an extra 10 minutes of conversation to explain the one word you decided to throw out usually isn't a welcome addition to the interaction buffet, at least in my area of the world, so there's no point in knowing it. I'm stuck wanting to express myself with my colourful and specific word that is left itching inside me, trapped, unable to be unleashed and set free like the little bird it is and it causes nothing but angst and brain bruises from its poor beating wings. Excuse my overdramatism. I got caught up in the moment.

I had a similar problem that I am still bitter about when I wrote an article for an Irish magazine in Toronto, and I described someone (Paddy Canny, to be specific, if you know him, or of him) as having a snell sense of humour, which means acute, or sharp, but the editors changed it to swell without informing me and it got published that way.
I still haven't forgiven them for it.

Anna Quote of the Day

"Mommy, I smell something, and it ain't no angel mist either."

Context:
One of Anna's storybooks is about the night Jesus was born, written from the perspective of one of the shepherds. Angels come and leave angel dust on the ground and trees and angel mist, which apparently has this fantastic fragrance, that could only be angels, and all the shepherds pick up and go to Bethlehem to check it out.

This was her cute way of telling me that Niamh had pooped.