I love watermelon. It’s one of my favorite things about summer. When I was pregnant with my last child I had a major craving for watermelon…in February which made things difficult.
I suck at picking watermelon.
Every watermelon I’ve chosen this summer aside from one hasn’t been sweet. Some have even been icky inside.
I need help.
If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…
If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!
- Invitation by Shel Silverstein
I love this poem. I have from the very first moment I read it when I was but a wee lass!
We presently live about an hour away from my husband’s work (a.k.a. civilization) and although we have really enjoyed the small town we currently live in we miss being closer to the city (both of us having grown up in Miami-I don’t think we can help ourselves very much.) So whenever we want to do anything other than going to the movies or Wal-Mart we’ve got to make the trek into the Metro D.C. area.
We recently did just that in order to have a fun summer afternoon at a local water park and because the drive was over an hour my boys can get bored and are notorious for getting car sick. I’ve learned to be prepared for both situations. Continue reading On The Road Art
I didn’t even have to think about this one. I’d rather fail a thousand times then never try something because I was afraid I might fail. That’s not to say that things I want to do don’t scare the crap out of me sometimes and that the fear of failing isn’t there-I am an over-achiever at best-one of those people for whom a “B” isn’t a good thing. We can’t be ruled by our fears, we must rule them and to do so is to try and do the things-that if we succeed would make our lives that much more richer-not necessarily in the monetary sense either….but would fulfill us and add meaning to our existence.
I’m into list making these days….here are nine things you may not know about me. Feel free to join in and share your own nine either in comment or blog post.
I love poetry. In school dissecting a poem to reveal its true meaning was actually fun for me…Today when I read poetry I focus more on the feeling it evokes within and what the words mean to me, rather than what the author meant when it was written. I think on one day a . . . → Read More: Hope is the Thing With Feathers