Possible serendipitousness

We stopped by Savers yesterday, as one does, to peruse the riff-raff and see if there was anything we needed to take home. Upon entering I forced myself past the book section, knowing that the time it would take to properly assess the shelves would be too much for baby patience. So we went straight to accessories, because I knew without doubt I would be able to find a braided belt like I'd been wanting. And of course we stopped by housewares to quickly browse the sheets, because one almost always finds a pretty sheet there (and one definitely always has use for more of those at home. You know, fort-building and such.) And then we had to pass by the books again, but by then James had a belt to chew on so I thought heck, might as well.I decided to rope myself down tothe shelves labeled Literature (isn't it all?) because there are some classic-lit-type books I've been wanting but haven't been able to find at the libraries. As I started scanning the spines I had the distinct feeling that the book I was looking for was there. A premonitiony feeling, if you will. A twinge of excitement purred across my brain as I continued to scan. Still, I am doubtful about such feelings and didn't really expect to find it, that one book in all the universe, nestled in there with all the rest.

Yet lo, and behold, there on the third shelf down way on the right hand side, she lay. Granted, it's not the exact one I wanted - I'd have preferred to find the version translated by Tolkien - but who really complains when the universe bends realistic expectations for you in the first place? And now I get to chase myMerlinbinge with some anonymous Arthurian prose about chivalry and such, deliciously punctuated by the mental images ofBradley JamesandEoin Macken. No complaints here.

Is that serendipity? I can never keep the definition of that word in my head.

On inner beauty and frugal wall art

Sometimes I feel like I never learned how to be a real girl. My beauty routines and decisions are all guesswork, which is kind of exhausting. I've been watching YouTube hair tutorials (don't judge) trying to figure out what I do wrong when curling my hair, and apart from a few useful tips and a lot of self-deprecating introspection, what I've come way with is the powerful feeling that all girls are beautiful. I would never put a video of my mirror face out there because I am not that confident. But the mom and the woman in me wants all the other girls to do it so they can see how lovely and perfect they are, just being so different and themselves and wonderful. And I want everyone to redo high school with new confidence so maybe we can all have a better time there.

This post is brought to you by someone who is having a bad hair day and needed a pep talk.

And also I wanted to show you this. I got the idea fromNat the Fat Rat(I swear I read other blogs too). I think hers are metal. Mine are cardboard spray painted with shiny metal looking paint, and I kind of love them for it. I have them above my couch on a wall with lots of glaring negative space. Someday my house will be completely decorated. And then we'll move.

The butt-end of winter

So I'm trying out a new iPad app for blogging, and it ate an entry I just wrote so we're trying this again. It's just as we'll the post got eaten, because it was really whiny and I'm sure I would have regretted it had it actually been published. As it is, my more rational self has emerged. You're welcome.

I was whining about being sick of winter, because I am. Sick of it. We got through January which I think most can agree is The Worst, but February has its own shortcomings. Namely the mud, and the cruel way it teases one about spring only to throw snow around for a few more weeks. But it can't last forever, so that's what I'm holding onto.

I was also whining about being stuck inside with two kids who have naps perfectly aligned so as to never be awake at the same time. Which in many ways is a blessing, but it also limits our goings out. And we have cabin fever, you know. So today we're doing some water play to distract us.

James was interested for about 5 minutes before remembering he's trying to solve the puzzle of how to open the gate so he can fall down the stairs.

Lauren however is much more into it. Washing plastic giraffes with purple water must speak to her.

So anyway, that's what we're doing. Now if this post doesn't get eaten, I may start blogging a little more. I've now officially missed another of James' monthly photoshoots, because I'm really good at not doing those.