Off The Table

It is rare for my table to be cleared off.  Takes a large amount of work on my part to get it that way.  You'd think it would take a large amount of work to get it as cluttered as it always is, but really, it seems that that's the easy part.

Baby!  Whatchoo dooin on da table!?
Get yooself off da table!

I'm not talking about the physical table, though.  I know, you're on the edge of your seat, waiting to see where I take this metaphor.  Here's the deal.  Ever since RG was born, I've been flirting with the idea of not finishing my PhD.  I love love love being a Mama.  Were I independently wealthy, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't finish.  I'd stay home and be a Mama and sell things online and make butter and chat with you all on here.  It would be a lovely existence.  However, I'm not independently wealthy.  SURPRISE!  So while living the dream is all well and good, living in dreamland is not.  

Without further ado, I hereby take the Quitting of My PhD off of the metaphorical table.  Similarly to how, when I married Handsome, we took the option of divorce off of the table, I have to totally eliminate this option. Leaving it there, floating around in the back of my mind, would just be straight up torture.  It leaves the option of an easy out, and that's not okay here.  I have to fully commit if I'm going to make this work.  As I've said, I'm not 100% sure that I want to make this work, but there's a bunch of smart people in my life that are all saying that I'll regret it if I don't, and I'm just going to have to trust them on this.  

In case any of you were wondering, I did also take my daughter off of the literal, physical table.  Because we're all about safety first around here.

<3 M.

In Search Of :: a Web Developer

So...

I did not make this.
She did.
I'd like to, though.

A while back, AKA - when RG was born, someone told me they were praying for God to give me the desires of my heart.  In my sleep deprivation (which is not currently happening, since my little bundle of joy has slept through the night the past 4 nights in a row! Take that, jinx!), I was grateful, but realized I had no idea what the desire of my heart was.

So I got to thinking.

And wondering.

And finally, desiring.

I've got big dreams, now.  Desires of my heart.  And part of that dream is to be a stay-at-home mom.  I'm loving, LOVING mommyhood.  However, since my dream does not include my handsome husband working 4 jobs, I'm still likely going to need to generate some income.  Since I'm dreaming here, I've decided that I'd like to generate that income doing stuff that I love.  Ergo, I've been thinking about reopening an online shop.  However, I plan to go big or go home, and so I've decided its time for a blog makeover, as well as a logo and things like this.  Something that says (mostly to me, but also to the world at large) that I mean business up in here.

But I don't know how to do that.  Its not my gift.  Sewing zippers into the sides of a dress 45 minutes before a wedding so it can function as nursing-friendly attire, I can do.  Planning out and executing web design, not so much.

So...

Who's got some names for me?  People I could email, or who designed your webpage, perhaps.  Tell me about any successful experiences you've had, either in the comments, or email me at agreatandmanythings(at)gmail.com.  Alternatively, tell me who's logo/design you like, and why.  Inquiring minds need to know!

<3 M.

I have a Dream: Lawncare Edition

I have dream, that one day, this pile of dirt will rise above its circumstances and become something more than just a pile in the middle of my yard.  I dream that it may become a doctor or a lawyer or, most hopefully, a nice place where potatoes live and grow.

I have a dream.  Similar to the way that if you mow over poison ivy, you get it everywhere, I dream that mowing over honeysuckle will make you smell like honeysuckle, instead of just like mulch and grass.

I have a dream that the contents of my yard will not be judged by my neighbors and found wanting.  That someday, my yard will be filled-in to such an extent that I will be able to see where I have already mowed and not mowed, while the mower is still running, and not just after I've put it away.

Most importantly, I have a dream for my children, and my children's children.  I dream that one day, they will be accepted even if they are wearing an outfit similar to this one.  I dream that a painting of this picture will hang in a fine arts gallery.  I dream that this pose will become a symbol of hope for peoples everywhere, regardless if they are wearing pajamas in public or not.

A girl can dream,

TFW

What you Eat

If you are what you eat, then it appears that Sir Duke has eaten a big 'ole bowl of melancholy today.  He doesn't deal well with separation.  I drove the truck out to the end of the driveway today and sat in it for approx. 10 minutes (it was an impromtu mobile office to let me talk on my cell but still get my own internet service... my life, the never-ending adventure) and when I came back inside, he was all "Oh I'm so glad you're back Oh I missed you so much Here I am pet me Pet me here!"

At least, that's my interpretation.

Since our visitors left last week, he just hasn't been himself.

He keeps waiting for them to come back.

Really, I think he'd take any visitors at this point.

Veteran's Day and a List

Today is a list.  Or at least, I think it will be.  My mind is a little scattered, but if it clears up as my fingers keep typing, we might just have a true blue post on our hands.  Or not.

1.  Today is 11/11/11.  Yes, the repeated numbers are awesome.  But the first two, 11/11, mean that it's Veteran's Day, which is more important that six one's in a row.  I would tell you to thank a veteran, but I'm going to be honest and say that doing that in person makes me nervous, and I might not do it myself.  Don't get me wrong, I'm waaaaay grateful.  But I feel weird and awkward thanking them.  It doesn't help that Handsome tells me that when people thank him for his job, he feels weird and awkward.  So tell me, if you know a veteran, do they appreciate being thanked?  Have you thanked a veteran?  Have you bought their meal or picked up their tab?  Expand this out for me.  And because I'm too uncertain to say it out loud, I'll put it up here:

Thank you, veterans/current military personnel, for your service to and for our country.

And thank you to your families, who make your service possible.

Don't forget the families of these men & women.  As the family of a brave man in a dangerous service-type job (you know what I'm saying here, my fingers just aren't typing coherently), I know some of what it takes for him to do his job well.  Those families are doing a lot, and their sacrifices are on par with the person serving.

Photo Credit

Naming Privileges and Ugly Kids

Two events have precipitated this post:

1.  I had a dream the other night.  In the dream, I had a baby and Handsome & I named her Georgiana.  *Please note that I'm not in love with the name Georgiana.*  Anyhow, Handsome's cousin has a baby named Gianna, and we wanted to call our baby Gigi, but had to check first with said cousin to make sure she wasn't planning to call her baby Gigi.  Because, you know, Gigi is a popular nickname for kids these days.  And we wouldn't want them to fight at Christmas when the present says Gigi.  She did not, in fact, want to call her baby Gigi.  Imagine that.

2.  Handsome and I were on a long-ish trip (5 hours) and were talking about my sister and her soon-to-be-born baby.  While discussing names, we got caught up inside another conversation about adoption.  And it goes like this:

Handsome:  If you buy a kid (how he likes to rephrase the word "adopt") from Africa, deep in the heart of Africa, you can't just go and name him Bob

Me: Then what would you suggest naming a kid from "deep in the heart of Africa"?

Handsome: Ra-ki-ki-ki-ki.

Me:  And you think this would help Ra-ki-ki-ki fit in here in America?

Handsome: -ki.

Me: What?

Handsome: You forgot the fourth "ki".  His name is Ra-ki-ki-ki-ki.

Me: I'm done with this.

So, in light of these recent events, I thought I would pull a story out of the archives, dust it off, and share it with you.  The title of my story is, "Why Handsome had his naming privileges revoked".

Good Morning Wednesday

Good morning, y'all.

This Wednesday is starting earlier than planned.  Partially because of wanting to get things done, and partially because my wonderful husband, who has many other great qualities, is often forgetful when rushed and left his radios at home.  In the fire service, that spells disaster, and so I had to run them to him.  But really, what is marriage built on, if not job-saving interventions from time to time?