happenings in Preutopia
This weekend we found a rifle wedged up between the stone wall of the basement and the outer edge of the house foundation. Well, I found it, with my near-superhuman powers of observation. J unwedged it with his near-superhuman strength.
Turns out, it was a military-issue Italian rifle from 1886.
After a few minutes of dreaming of antiques roadshow fame and a bank-breaking auction at Sotheby's, we discoverd it is really quite common and only worth about $200.
go figure.
also, Baby Awesome ate carrots for the first time. And boy did he. Like a zombie pouncing on live brains, this kid ate carrots! well done, kiddo.
other than that, i spent the weekend doing some holiday baking and getting our ironic christmas sweaters together. hmm. sometimes i think j really wants this punk-as-fuck wife who plays derby and paints and thumbs her nose at life. but i wonder if he'd be really down with the reality of that. the reality of that is i wouldn't have time for anything else. the reality of that would be him picking up the slack for everything else. the reality is that our kid wouldn't know much of the wholesomeness of life, which can fall victim to the incessant irony and absurdity of it. the same wholesomeness that fills out the best of my memories of childhood, and that which was so fleeting and fragile about it.
yeah, being cool is great pursuit, but i'm a mom with bigger priorities now. i've got a home to create, a life with inherent meaning now. watching my baby fall asleep or explore his hands trumps spending my time perfecting rollerderby techniques. i'm an old-fashioned girl that way. i'm an old-fashioned mom that way.
1 Comments:
Ain't nothing more punk rock than a technical writing, black hair dying, elliptical prancing momma.
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