Otter Pops. Sigh.

Last summer I wrote a post about Otter Pops,....

and then yesterday I ate twelve of them. TWELVE! I can't HELP myself.

They never make me sick, and they NEVER stop tasting delicious and feeling refreshing!

I am worried that this addiction that I have is what will send me spiraling down to the fiery depths of Hades realm for actively and willing participating in one of the seven deadly sins. GLUTTONY.

But even the prospect of that will not stop me because well.....it's really HOT down there, and even thinking about it makes my legs grow a mind of their own and walk straight to the freezer.

...THEN I have to throw my wrapper away, and the freezer is conveniently located just an arms length away from the garbage can. It's called feng shui people!

They EVEN crept into my engagement pictures!



* Three Otter Pops were consumed during the writing of this post. A Pink one, Blue one, and a green one. However, no otters were harmed in the making of this production.

Um.....not

This will be a short post, but it is long overdue.

Husband and I have been married for about 7 months. I swear, if one more person asks me when I am going to have a baby....

Or exclaims that I am probably pregnant when I feel the slightest bit less than 100%

I might....implode.

I truly do want children. I anticipate motherhood as the most glorious thing I will do. But really.

I do feel slightly guilty when my mother-in-law starts talking about how badly she wants grandchildren....Or when my own wonderful father talks about how awesome he will be as a grandfather.....poop.

Sorry. I'm not pregnant.

No Sidewalks

I have always had this thing for poetry. I love to read it, and I love write what I can. I am going to start posting a poem every once in a while. Here is my first attempt.

I grew up in a small town, a town with no sidewalks. I once had a friend who told me he never wanted to live in a place that was big enough to have paved sidewalks. "That's when people stop waving to eachother when they drive by," he said. It made me stop and think about what I love about living in a rural place, and this poem came out of it. It has a lot of revision to go, and I would love input from all of you.

No Sidewalks

I live in a town with no sidewalks,
And my bones have grown there as the trees.
There is a road that wobbles and winds
And stretches into infinite distance.
My feet have never found its end.

I walk on the road where broken
Asphalt meets weed; I can see
Mountain to mountain to mountain
To sky. A cradle of dirt and rock
Open up to bright swaggering blue.

I stop on the road to let a
Gurgling stream greet my thoughts. I lay
to look out of the mouth of the cradle.
On the horizon, cows and grass give
Way to pavement and glass.

The sky strains too heavy
With smearing, fading smog.
It rolls closer to my road
Every year. Closer
to my road, and my Feet.

Smog, sidewalks, and lifeless steel.

I. Love. Thunder.

and so these huge and dark thunder clouds pleased me greatly. Don't mind my grotesque face, and awkwardly stanced body. And also please disregard the fact that Ashley is enviably tan and adorable. We were the only people for miles, and these huge clouds were rolling in, and we were jumping off of pumice mountains. It was one of the best days ever of all time.

There is just something soul stirring about being in the open where there are no people, and heaven seems to reach down and tell you it is there. This was one of those days.

Awesome

I may or may not have blinded my brother-in-law's left eye with one of these last night. The dart that hit the aforementioned eyeball may or may not have been tipped with Velcro. The battle may or may not have gone on between four grown people for more than an hour. There may or may not be darts lost in every open crevice of my and husbands apartment. I may or may not wish I was 7 years old so I could carry one of these around in a holster at all times.