I went into a used bookstore the other day. Painted green floors, taxidermy, folk art, and books, of course, a million-trillion books all under the watchful eyes of two sisters with gray hair down their backs. It was incredible; bizarre in the best of ways.

I put enough change in the meter to last me twenty minutes and walked through a courtyard, under a yellow awning, and across a threshold into Diagon Alley. I immediately started scanning books, but it was the type of place where you tell the shopkeeper what you need and she scans the catalog she keeps only in her mind and says, “You’ll find Chekhov on the third aisle, bottom shelf, next to the book on how to make dim sum.”

As practical as I am, there is a large part of me that is mystical, prone to woo-woo. This store brought out the woo-woo. I don’t know if it was the sisters or the smell of yellowed paper or the large set of antlers with the scalp and skull still attached under which I stood transfixed for five minutes, but the place vibrated with energy. Even Nicholas must have felt it because after he finished playing with the blocks in a woven straw bucket he put them all away before he started in on the puzzles. My only explanation is that we were somewhere magical, because the muggle version of Nicholas can only be bribed or threatened into picking up toys.

I bought Mikey a $4 hardcover of Lemony Snicket’s A Series Unfortunate Events and walked out to the car to find the meter expired long ago. I didn’t get a ticket.

B is for Books is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

B is for Books is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

I woke up early but had breakfast late. Later, I ran a quick errand.We read Rikki Tikki Tavi, Too Many Toys, and a two year old Spider-Man book from dollar spot at Target.

We ate lunch. I had kale and chicken, leftovers. He nibbled at his sandwich and fruit, congested and uninterested. I anticipated this and only gave him half portions. I’m glad; I hate wasting food.

On the way home from school, Mikey asked if I knew the proper way to kill a vampire. That’s the game they were playing at recess and he wanted to make sure he had all his weaponry straight. I told him there is nothing wrong with kickball.

He did homework, I sold a buffet we had in the dining room. A couple from Craigslist promised to come over and they did. I’m close to getting that china cabinet I’ve had my eye on. I’m excited.

We had tofu fajitas for dinner. Mikey continued his campaign against the lowly soybean. Nico made up for his missed lunch. It was delicious, even for Mikey. He stuffed two corn tortillas to overflowing with peppers, onions, and guacamole, then ate more without a tortilla. Nico did the same, with the addition of tofu.

At 7:30 it felt like 10:30. I decided to read this book before Rules of Civility. I considered it for book club, but thought it was one most have already read.

It was a quiet day, one spent looking at the clouds. Bright and white and cold. It was nice. It was Tuesday.

It was Tuesday is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

It was Tuesday is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

On marketing

“I can’t believe I was tricked into reading Beauty and the Beast.”

::::::

On sustenance

“I’m thinking…do I want to plug my arteries with a burger, or do I want Chipotle?”

::::::

On humor

“Of course I know you’re joking on me, Dad. You joke about everything serious or dangerous.”

::::::

On fantasies

“I’m having an awesome dream right now. It’s about Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Mary Poppins.”

::::::

On authenticity

“Never try to be somebody else, or else you will lose your magical powers.”

Stuff Mikey Says, Vol. 4 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Stuff Mikey Says, Vol. 4 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

On desserts

“Do you want to try mine, Mikey? It’s chocolate and flavored and good and sloppy.”

::::::

On dinner

“Look how much rice I ate, mama. I pound that down!”

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On head colds

“Am I ever going to feel better, mama, or is this how I will always feel forever?”

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On fortune cookies

“It says, ‘Dear Nicholas, I hope you get lots of ice cream when your mama says you are no longer sick.’“

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On careers

“I don’t know what a paleontologist does, but when they do it outside it’s called field work.”

::::::

On dreams

“Mama, can you put ‘Go to Super Bowl’ on my life list?”

Stuff Nicholas Says, Vol. 1 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Stuff Nicholas Says, Vol. 1 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

We are still having discussions on the Book Club and the William Morris posts, and this week has been quiet online in general, so I thought to keep it light today. Okay, we’ve also been sick all week and the boys have had fevers, which means they are piled on me like little koala bears. I love it, and haven’t done much more than sop up the affection with a biscuit.

I’m not sure what I will do with the Unstyled Life posts. They seem to have taken on a life of their own and morphed into something different than originally intended. I may keep them on Fridays or move them to another day, but I don’t think I’m ready to give them up.

A few of the plans I have for next week:

• Book Club: more discussions about what to read, deciding where to meet (it’s an online book club, so either here, Twitter, Facebook, Good Reads, etc.), creating “genre teams” to make the book selection process easier, and when to start. Some excellent points brought up in the comments so far include the ease of getting books from the library, page count, starting off with an easier read since we don’t know what we’re doing, and whether we should read a book at least one person has read and can recommend.
• William Morris: I’ll be posting something on Thursday, and hope you do, too. Feel free to leave a link to your project in the comments, so long as it is a new post inspired by the series. Some people have asked about link ups. If I get enough requests for one, I’ll do it. Let me know what you think.
•  Celebrating my anniversary on the 15th. Twelve years! (Thanks for the compliments on my wedding picture. I didn’t think you could see it clearly, but a few eagle eyes spotted it immediately.)
• Updating my Unread Library list. I have a ton of books to add. A few may make good Book Club material, like Skippy Dies, The Wildwood Chronicles, Book 1, and…uh, I can’t remember but I know there are a few. I need to think about how to add the books. The list is getting a bit unwieldy.

I really wish the boys were feeling better. The Mister and I can hardly wait to take them to this.

Until Monday is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Until Monday is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

I don’t remember how old I was, but we were still in the house in Laura Lane. I must have been six, then, when I flew down the driveway, did a triple lutz, and landed flat underneath a pile of Huffy. I picked myself up and with all the righteous indignation of Jan Brady vowed I would never again ride a bike. I mean, I really said that. I waved my fist in the air, stomped my way into the house, and over my shoulder tossed at my parents, “I will never ride a bike again!”

I wasn’t surprised to see Mikey take a similar attitude thirty-two years later. He may not have squalled like a bear in a trap the way some people did, but it didn’t take his then six-year-old mind long to conclude bicycle riding is an activity fraught with peril. He tried it; he wasn’t a fan. We decided to give him time. Since I eventually came around, I figured he would, too. I spent my tween years riding bikes (and creating jumps!) with the boys in my neighborhood. Surely Mikey would take a lap or two around the block.

A year came and went with no change in his opinion. He scootered. He folded his legs like a praying mantis into tricycles and Big Wheels. But under no circumstance would he ride his bike. Finally, with a two wheel bike from Santa to Nicholas on the horizon, we decided to push the issue. He pushed back.

“Mikey, I know you. You’re not going to like to see Nicholas riding a two wheel bike while you cruise around on a little kid bike. You’re going to be embarrassed.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, riding a bike is fun! Don’t you want to come out with me, daddy, and Nico on bike rides? You’ll be stuck at home. Doesn’t sound very fun to me.”

“I’ll ride my scooter.”

“We’ll leave you in the dust.”

The threat of being last place in anything was great enough for him to consider it, and after a minute he struck a bargain.

“Okay, I’ll do it. But the only way I’m going to ride a bike is if Santa brings me knee pads, elbow pads, and gloves.”

Millennium children are so different from children of the 70s. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for a security detail.

In the end, Santa delivered. Mikey rode. With heavy jeans and a long sleeved shirt, of course. He didn’t want to get “road rash.”

Mikey Rides is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Mikey Rides is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

My goal to have nothing in my home that is not useful, beautiful, or both is not going as well as it did in October. I thrive on assignments and move forward with momentum. October was the perfect storm of achievement. I had an assignment and I worked on it everyday. Things happened. Now, things are not happening.

Over the break, I debated doing my William Morris project for a year, five days a week with weekends off. I asked the opinions of family, friends, bloggers, and readers and 75% thought it was an incredibly bad idea. Family and friends reminded me how exhausting it would be. Bloggers and readers pointed out that I would, essentially, completely change the focus of my blog. That gave me pause. I don’t want to be a DIY blogger, and I suspect the internet doesn’t want me to be one, either. I can’t imagine tricking out my pantry with bunting, washi tape, and oil cloth. I lean towards the practical, and wipeable contact paper is fine, thanks.  Reading my DIY blog would be as exciting as reading a dental blog.

Your bicuspids are transitional teeth located between the canines and molars. They are also known as premolars.

See what I mean?

Right before I was supposed to make a decision about my William Morris goal, I decided to email my blogging mentor. While I was waiting for her reply, I found an inspiration journal from a couple of years ago. On the first page I had written a quote, one of my favorites. When Nester replied a while later, she quoted my quote back to me in a round about way. I took it as a sign.

What makes me come alive? I supposed everything I blog about here.

1. Reading. I love everything about it and am willing to read anything. Even Nicholas Sparks. (I haven’t yet, but I would.)
2. Writing. I’m good at it.
3. Learning. Jokes aside, reading about bicuspids was oddly satisfying.
4. Domesticity. The educated, girl-power attorney in me doesn’t always want it to be so, but I love keeping a home. I love cooking, baking, decorating, wifery-ing-ly(?), and raising boys. Actually, I only don’t want it to be so when I visit with friends from law school and feel like a boring country bumpkin. The rest of the time, I’m good.

So, it will be more of the same around here. More of my old fashioned, slightly quirky taste in things like roses and colors that aren’t mauve. More books, naturally. And, yes, even more William Morris. More me, that’s all.

What makes you come alive?

………………….

This post is linked up with Kevin and Layla Palmer at The Lettered Cottage.

Happy 2012 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Happy 2012 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

A very merry everything to all of you, from all of us. Thank you so much for making this year the best, most satisfying year of blogging yet. I will see you in a day or two or three, friends.

xoxo,
Jules

Merry Christmas, 2011 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Merry Christmas, 2011 is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

He said he wanted to look cool. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he flew past cool and sashayed smack dab in the middle of Village People.

Oh Chante is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

Oh Chante is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

I don’t even know.

On Saturday Buddy and Buster were rough housing, playing around. Up and down the concrete patio, sliding, rolling, nips and bites and soft growls in good fun. We are happy our dogs, both in their 12th year, are so healthy. (We spend a fortune on their dog food every month, so they better be.) But they aren’t invincible, or puppies, and all it took was for Buddy to step wrong and twist, turn, howl…there went his ACL ligament. Torn to bits, like a letter from an ex-lover.

We took Buddy to the vet on Monday, and he says surgery is recommended, but not necessary. As he heals, he’ll probably develop arthritis, which he does not have now. In fact, the vet couldn’t believe how strong and healthy Buddy’s joints are, and how healthy he is overall for his age.

The surgery is $2,000. We don’t have $2,000.

I’ve read on a few websites that the surgery is far from necessary, and that recovery really only begins after a minimum of 8-12 weeks of restricted activity. We need to give Buddy time to see if he stabilizes the joint on his own. Does this sound right?

We dropped the boys off with my mom so we could do some Christmas errands and found a lizard under her tree.

She said, “Why under the tree?”

I said, “Really? Why at all?”

I still don’t know what we are getting my father in-law for Christmas.

I may be in and out for the next couple of weeks. I’m working out what I want to do for the next year. You know how I love my assignments! Some ideas I’m considering, and will run by you for approval, include a book club and some intense William Morrising.

I’m going to go to the mall, throw darts in the air, and buy whatever it is they land on. Then I’m going to wrap it up and give it to my father in-law. I think I’ll use the same procedure on a gift for my dad.

And a Lizard in a Fake Tree is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries

And a Lizard in a Fake Tree is a post from: Pancakes and French Fries