I call these my Titanic Headaches. The reason is because I had my very worst headache when Bo and I went to see The Titanic on the big screen for the first time. It was winter, snowy and blustery. We'd been in and out of shops, cars, and the theater. Therefore, I think my headaches are caused by sinuses. Only Motrin for Migraines and a sinus mask will help. I've tried drinking caffeine, not drinking caffeine, taking hot baths, going into cold air, sleeping, eating...nothing works except the Motrin and a sinus mask, heated up muchly in the microwave and placed directly over my eyes.
I finally made it downstairs to the kitchen, which was partially a mess, but not bad. We've been listening to classical music during meal preparations and, sometimes, into mealtime. I took a vote...Johann Strauss won. We started out listening to one of my very favorite pieces, Tales from the Vienna Woods Waltz, Op 325, which most people know as The Carousel Song.
When we first bought our property on which now sits our house, we would drive about an hour and a half to spend weekends at the cabin which sits nestled down in the thicket here (thus the name "Thicket Dweller"). On the ride, and often walking through the sun-spotted thicket, Bard and Houdin would sing these words to the tune of The Vienna Woods Waltz:
Hurry then away with me
To the forest pathways, free
Oh, the green world
Oh, the green world.
With the pretty wildwood flowers
Let us take the happy hours
And we'll crown every moment a queen.
I threw together my own fresh greens for lunch to
day with grape tomatoes, cukes, broccoli, onions and sunflower seeds. I made an equally good salad for our Saanen
goat, Snowday, out of all of the peelings and stalks I didn't want to eat. A nice handful of shredded cheddar, and a nice dallop of bleu cheese dressing, and I was happy as rabbit. Are rabbits happy?
The Baby and Sweetheart were playing, dancing, singing about The Baby's approaching birthday, and then The Baby saw me. All smiles and running like her little life depended on it, she made her way straight into my arms, and we enjoyed sharing a good salad and some cottage cheese together. She's my cottage cheese eater. I'm so proud.
Monet sat at the table looking through the presidential flashcards. He determined that Abe Lincoln is his favorite. He seems to be popular in this house.
Sweetheart has asked me no less than eighty-two times when we're going on our date. I have to eat, I say. I have to clean the kitchen, I say. PATIENCE! I say.
I'm not sure what we'll do for our date, yet. I'm still thinking.
I was thinking about Racing Stripes, about my decision not to go see it because of the "crude humor," when I heard this exchange between my children.
Monet: "Sweetheart, are you wearing underwear?"
Sweetheart: "Yes. They're pink."
Houdin: "HO-okay. That was too much information."
Me: "Well, he did ask."
Houdin: "He didn't ask what color underwear she was wearing."
Me: "Yeah, but when you start a conversation, you have to realize that it's in motion and you can't always control it."
Houdin: "Monet, are you wearing underwear?"
Monet: "No. I don't have any."
Houdin: "HO-okay...you should have just said they were butt-colored."
Maybe Racing Stripes would be an improvement over the language here.
