I’m moving. AH! I’m lucky I still have a functioning blog after this week of painting. I currently have stains on the crack of skin between nostril and nose neck, thighs, finger nails, splatter spots across my feet. It’s a bit wild here. Let the photos commence:
When my mother isn’t singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow to my nephew before bed, we’re thinking up bath songs that she used to sing to me. He’s adorable, but he’s known to act obscene in public places and then get snotty sick afterwards.
Day 200: (Holy-wow, Day 200)
Who says you have to grow big and stop eating green eggs and hearing little songs coming from dandelions? WHO SAYS. This is my classroom map of all the places we’ll go in our readings. Hooray, 9th graders!
I will give gold stars to writers who use stamps with writerly faces. Who knew Geraldine Brooks could look so witty through the post.
I thought it was a woolly mammoth. We spent a summer living in the same room with ten kids. I threw a water bottle at his head. Don’t worry, there was hugging and making-up-ing.
See that pink scar, he got it fighting bison with his bare knee. He also bought me that couch for my new house! (Excuse me while I squeal: I have the best daddy ever).
Sometimes when your head is overwhelmed, you just have to peek out into the darkness and notice the color of rain.
Begin with the bookshelves.