Bits and Pieces

There are no less than 38 single socks in my sock bin. I find it odd that I've counted them, and find it odder still that I cannot throw any of them out. I think I'm suffering from the phobia, "lostasockaphobia" - the fear that if you throw out a sock that has been missing its mate for 4 years, its mate will show up the next day.

I think 2 year olds should sleep past 6:15am.

I'm not a morning person.

The thought of a steaming cup of coffee in my hands is the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning, not the thought of lovingly picking up a 2 year old out of her crib. Some days I feel guilty about that. Not this morning.

I'm reading a book about how to become a writer, and it's really poorly written. I'm not just saying that. She lost me at the part where I'm supposed to lie down on the floor, cross my hands across my breast like the Lily Maid of Astolat, meditate for 20 minutes, then get up and write. "It really works." Uh, huh....

I have no idea who the Lily Maid of Astolat is, but I'm guessing I don't have the look or breast size to pull it off.

I recently finished reading, "A Thing of Beauty", by one of my favourite authors, A.J. Cronin. He writes the most brilliant descriptions of people. One of my favourites from this book -

"The drinks were brought by a strapping young woman with bare red arms and round full breasts which swung under her blouse like young coconuts."

You can't help but stop and visualize that. Come on, admit it, you just did.