G is for Gardening

It’s no exaggeration that my thumb is mostly black. Especially when it comes to houseplants. I have 3 that I haven’t managed to kill in the last few years, which may actually be a new record for me. Most die a slow death.

That said, I still love the feel of soil in my hands as I put something pretty into the dirt. While my last few apartments had balconies that let me plant a few annuals each year (because I know that a perennial will never survive), I don’t have that luxury in my current apartment. Instead, I’m thinking of trying my hand at an indoor herb garden in my kitchen. I have a nice bright window. I would just need to get a few small pots and a shelf to give it my best shot.

Is there anything better than the taste of something you’ve grown yourself?

F is for Fiddler on the Roof

I love musicals. I blame my dad.

When I was little, my dad had a copper oil derrick music box that played “If I Were a Rich Man”. And he would sing the song. Then he showed me the movie.

A few years ago, I was able to attend a performance of “Fiddler on the Roof” with Topol performing as Tevye (reprising his role from the movie). Fun fact: Topol was 36 years old when he starred in the film version of “Fiddler on the Roof”. They did a great job of making him look much older. When I saw him perform, he was 74 years old. Watching him on stage was just like watching him in the movie. He’s been performing that role for over half his life.

When I was home sick over the weekend, I happened to turn the TV on in time to catch the very beginning of “If I Were a Rich Man”. I fell asleep again sometime between “Little Bird” and “Anatevka”.

I really need to buy that movie.

And every time I watch it, I think of my dad. :)

E is for Easter

I saw some posts on Facebook yesterday discussing Easter baskets and whether this person was depriving her kids because her family didn’t really celebrate Easter that way.

As long as it doesn’t involve anything that actually harms someone, I’m usually okay with celebrating a holiday any way you want to.

When I was growing up, Easter was a close family holiday. This was one that usually didn’t involve grandma & grandpa, the aunts & uncles or cousins. It was just me, my sister and my parents.

Saturday involved decorating eggs.

Easter Sunday always involved a new dress. Something pretty and spring-y. We usually tried to go to the sunrise service at church. Bonus points if it was nice enough out to be held outside.

We usually had an indoor Easter egg hunt and baskets from the Easter Bunny full of candy. Maybe a stuffed animal or something small. Easter was not a big gift-giving holiday, which is funny, because I also remember being taken to the mall to see the Easter Bunny in the weeks leading up to the big day. I can’t remember ever asking for anything. Maybe chocolate or jelly beans? Those would’ve been safe bets.

I always liked the jelly beans better than the chocolate. Unless I was eating jelly beans and chocolate at the same time.

Malted milk robin’s eggs are delicious.

We usually had a special dinner on Easter. I used to love it when dad made his special dinner rolls. Or mom got creative and our rolls were shaped like rabbits.

Now I totally want to go find a washcloth and make a little bunny…

D is for Disaster Area

Spent the whole weekend holed up in my apartment, sick as a dog. I’m hoping I’m still feeling well enough tonight to conquer some of those chores that got ignored this weekend – like laundry, dishes and cleaning up the living room after I spent a good 36 hours on the couch in a state of semi-delirium.

This started as the year of getting my act together and acting like a grownup. I’d been making good strides…until I got sick. Wish I had someone close who wanted to take care of me. Instead, the chain was on the door all weekend and I told everyone to stay away lest I infect them too.

It’s so hard being a grownup when you don’t feel good.

C is for Crafty

A few months ago, I started renting a small office with a couple of friends. We all like doing crafty projects and all have small furry animals that love to get into everything. Under most circumstances, pet fur and paint, or superglues, or both just don’t mix. So we’ve outfitted our little shop with most of our craft supplies, plus a mini fridge and microwave, and usually spend at least a few hours there every weekend. Here are photos of a few things we’ve made so far: