Later, gator

We're off to Disney World.

Catch you on the flip side.

Take the week off from Monday Missions on March 2nd, hopefully I'll come back with a fun slate of ideas for the rest of March (ideas always welcome...)

And for your sing-along pleasure here's a little ditty from an old post....

To Disney World
or MQ's Lament
sung to the tune of Part of Your World, from The Little Mermaid

Look at this stuff
Isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl
The girl who has everything?
Look at this trove
Treasures untold
How many princesses can one bedroom hold?
Looking around here you'd think
Sure, she's got everything
I've got dollies and stickers a-plenty
I've got storybooks and underwear galore
You want videos? I've got twenty!
But who cares? No big deal I want more

I wanna be where the princesses are
I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'
Walking around on that - what do you call it? Right- Main Street!
Wearing plastic shoes, you don't get too far
Rides are required for fun and squealing
Monorail, Dumbo, It's a Small World - they all sound so NEAT

Out where princesses walk, out where princesses run
Out where princesses stay all day in the sun
We'll catch a show - if we can go To Disney World

What would I give if I could live out of this suburb?
What would I pay to spend a day at Disney World?
Don't need to fly, we could just drive
We could even pack our lunch in a cooler
Not too expensive, I'll donate my piggy bank
When can we go???

I'm ready to know what my friends all know
Walk up to the princesses and get some answers
I'll take a pen and get the autographs for which I yearn....
When's it my turn?
to stay out past dark, exploring the world's most famous amusement park?
Don't tell me no! When can we go?? To Disney World

fightin frightened

One of the many high school marching bands we saw parading this weekend billed itself as the "Fightin Wolves." That's right. No G at the end of that first word. Call me crazy, but it seems our high schools should teach their students the correct spelling. If they persist in this slogan, I propose the above as their new sign. As Bill Engval would say... Here's Your Sign.

__________________
This post has been a Monday Mission. This week's mission should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)Create your own sign and leave a link in the widget below.

Beggers

There's something odd about Mardi Gras parades. (Okay, there's a lot odd about them, but...) I find them quite fun, and as Jen pointed out in the comments about the parade we attended last week, we have really embraced this whole thing. True, in a lot of respects. But sometimes it's hard to stand there and realize that we're on the side of the road begging for a bunch of plastic beads and cheap stuffed animals that will end up in a closet and, at a later date, will be given away to visiting friends and family. I'll even pay to get rid of the stuff, mailing it to friends and family across the world.

(It must be noted that the May Queen is happily sleeping with several new stuffed animals she caught today, and will play with them for quite some time to come. She does also play with the beads...)

We try to be frugal. We try to teach the May Queen to not ask for and expect gifts. We are careful about excess at Christmas and other gift giving occasions. But put us on a parade route and we encourage her to aim for all the loot she can get.

You get swept up in the moment. In the culture. In the expectation.

There's more to it, of course. The parties beforehand are a great time to get together with friends and eat wonderful food. There's a whole social aspect to it that is becoming more and more my favorite part of the parades.

Sometimes I just stand back and wonder at it all. It defies simple explanation.

But I know that there is joy in my daughter's eyes. There are smiles on our faces. I know that there is community and friendship and, of course, food.

And I know that in my guest room closet there is a box of beads that weighs more than I.

------
This Monday's mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)

Long lost kitty?

Last night a calico cat sat on my front porch, looking inquisitively in at me. For a brief moment I honestly wondered if the cat knew our cat Shakespeare, that perhaps they had been friends before Shakespeare came to live with us and this kitty had just managed to track Shakespeare down.

Perhaps I've watched too many Disney movies.
-------

Next Monday's mission is to write a post in the style of a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)

Ready to Roll: not quite wordless wednesday

I'm really not an over protective parent. I would probably let her ride without a helmet at all. But after a spill off her bike last week (which didn't harm her AT ALL. She picked her face out of the leaves in the ditch and hollered "I'm OK!") the May Queen was nervous about getting back on two wheels. She wanted protection! So we bought her a helmet and she insisted on gearing up in these knee and elbow pads AND fingerless gloves. With fairies to guard her head and unicorns to pad all her joints she and her daddy went for a bike ride around the neighborhood.

Of course, she didn't fall at all.

Project Clean Closet Complete

Because I know you were just DYING to find out if I ever found the floor of my closet. Yes, yes I did. I even vacuumed it. I gave away 2 big bags of clothes and found new homes for lots of stuff. I folded and stacked and put things away. Not perfection, but pretty darn good. I walk in my closet and it seems so spacious and nearly airy. You'd even be proud of me - I was at my favorite thrift store last week and had two cute tops in my arms, and then put them back. I really didn't need them, and they didn't quite fit in with the "purge and clean" I was in the middle of.


Now... how long do I think I can keep it like this?

(I did NOT clean and organize the craft closet - although I did make SOME progress in there as I got craft supplies out of the main closet. It's just not a top priority. Maybe when I'm not working on a show. So... April?)

Introducing Mr Chicken...

Rubber Chicken

Rubber Chicken was discovered by talent agent Painted Maypole at a Mardi Gras parade. Mr. Chicken was noted for his flexibility in a variety of roles, as well as his unusual gift of laying an egg, and was immediately cast in the lead role in the suspense/comedy I'm Going to Steal your Applesauce, directed by the May Queen's grandfather. Applesauce was such a hit around the Maypole that Mr. Chicken is currently filming its sequel mmm... cookies... Both films are being turned into lunchbox books, premiering this week at a lunch table near you.

Production photos courtesy of Maypole Productions

__________________________

This post has been a Monday Mission. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of a brief biography (like a bio in a theatrical program or the back of a novel...) If you write a bio, please post a link in the widget below:

Next Monday's mission is to write a post in the style of a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)

Let's see...

The May Queen is up past her bedtime eating Moon pies and drowning in stuffed animals....We're encouraging her to beg....
My husband has a pair of panties on his head...

I'm sending people into hysterics with my (really awful) imitation of Beyonce's Single Ladies dance (sorry, no photo)...


MUST BE MARDI GRAS!


(note: It is not technically MARDI GRAS, that would fat Tuesday, which happens 2/24. But down here Mardi Gras is a season, and starting last night the parades and parties are in full swing)

____________________________

Throw me something ladies! Like an entry in the upcoming Monday Mission. This week's mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of a brief biography (like a bio in a theatrical program or the back of a novel...) Does not have to be a biography of YOU.

Playing with memory

Sunday evening I sat in a lawn chair around the dying embers of a fire. A marshmallow roasted while The May Queen and one of the girls from next door raced around the backyard making bat noises and insisting that I pretend they were wearing all black and I couldn't see them. "My, it sounds like there are lots of bats out here," I said.

A lamp glowed through the back windows and I looked inside to my living room, at the blankets tossed over the chair and the pictures above the couch, slightly askew. It felt as if I was peeking in a window at our lives. I wondered what it will be that The May Queen thinks of, when she is older and peeking back through the windows of time, as her fondest childhood memories. Will it be swooping and screeching through the dark night? Spinning herself silly on the creaky swing set? Watching the hummingbirds, and cheering them on? Endless games of Sorry at the kitchen table?

What will be the things that remind her of home? Will it be the smell of chai tea, like I drank every morning while I packed her lunchbox? Will it be a string of white Christmas lights, like the ones on our porch that we turned on whenever we ate dinner outside, accompanied by the singing of frogs in the "bog?" Will it be cluttered counter tops or colorful walls or a refrigerator covered with pictures?

Will she remember her home as nurturing and welcoming, or chaotic and unsettled? Will her strongest memories be of fun times with her family and neighbors, or the loneliness of being an only child?

I can't control her memories, of course. If I could I would sear the backyard picnics into her brain and erase the memory of the light that I accidentally knocked onto her head, cutting it open. But I can purposely create more opportunities for good memories. I can say yes more often to climbing the tree and no more often to the television. I can create an environment inour house that will, hopefully, one day be remembered as a place called home. A place where we laughed, we played, we sang, we created, we loved.

What are your strongest or fondest memories of your home and growing up? What triggers take you back?

Ode to a hand-me-down two wheeled bicycle

Oh neon pink plastic, scraped and warped
silver spokes go round
Dirty white wheels turning turning
passing o'er the ground
Pedals spinning, back to brake
basket hangs from bars
Staying upright more and more
watch out for the cars!
Carry safely, bright pink seat,
your cargo oh so dear
Off she rides on down the street
swallowing her fear

Guess who learned to ride a two wheeler this weekend? I'm so proud! (oh, you can hardly see it, but my favorite thing about this picture is how her tongue is peeking out as she concentrates)

***************
This post has been a Monday Mission. Your Mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of an ode (perhaps to your valentine? here's a definition of ode that I liked: "lyrical poem exalting someone, often in a formal and dignified style"). Idea courtesy of Mary G. If you play along post a link in the widget below:

Upcoming Monday Missions:
Feb 16 - a brief biography (like a bio in a theatrical program or the back of a novel...) Does not have to be a biography of YOU.
Feb 23 - a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)

Keeping me honest

When Chantal posted her corner of shame I thought maybe I should do the same thing for my closet of shame. Maybe showing you how disorganized it is will help motivate me to actually do something about it. Because I'm having a hard time getting to my clothes. (and do you think I have enough? egads! And this is only MY half of the closet. My husband has is own, VERY VERY NEAT half.)

And while I'm at it, maybe I'll tackle this tiny closet off of my closet (yes, we have an enormous closet. be jealous. it's OK) that I used to scrapbook in, but it's just too dang small, and now it just holds piles of crafty stuff.

Will Painted Maypole be able to walk through the closet floor once more? Will she purge some clothes? Will she do anything about the boxes of stuff she meant to organize last summer?

Stay tuned....

____________________

Monday is fast approaching. Your Monday Mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of an ode (perhaps to your valentine? here's a definition of ode that I liked: "lyrical poem exalting someone, often in a formal and dignified style"). Idea courtesy of Mary G.

So you wanted to see me sing and dance?

The real dancing starts about 3 minutes in. I'm wearing the orange dress and the curly red wig. As it begins I'm sitting at Gaston's feet. (It takes a few seconds for the lights to come up... be patient... if you've got the music there's nothing wrong with the video feed)

Not Exactly Hallmark

Inside Text:

Get some sleep you fool!

This has been a Monday Mission. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a post in the style of a greeting card. If you play along, please put a link to your post in the widget below. (Closing night last night...out late dancing... sorry I didn't get this up earlier)



Upcoming Missions:

Feb 9 - an ode (perhaps to your valentine? here's a definition of ode that I liked: "lyrical poem exalting someone, often in a formal and dignified style"). Idea courtesy of Mary G

Feb 16 - a brief biography (like a bio in a theatrical program or the back of a novel...) Does not have to be a biography of YOU.

Feb 23 - a sign (street sign, business sign, airport sign... you decide...)