Lovelihood

The Boy came home from school today with a month's worth of construction paper-based projects, some of a more cryptic nature than others. Judging from these materials, their topics ranged from winter artifacts to an abstract study of positive and negative space.

The flare of this leek suggests that I might have done a poor job of produce selection, perhaps picking out one that was a touch past its prime. It's a neat herringbone effect, though, like the top of a pineapple, or, to my catholic school eye, the fronds of a palm branch the week before Easter.

Through the combined miracles of instant video streaming and a week-long school break, The Boy has made himself a fanatic of that television awesomeness known as MythBusters. He spent his days off engineering Rube Goldberg contraptions (mostly involving balls bouncing off multiple surfaces), discussing how a postage stamp could not possibly take down a helicopter, pretty accurately describing the science behind the Mento in the soda trick, and declaring, at odd intervals, the Busted!-ness of things. Of course, no theortical discussion of science should go without a practical examination of the subject, so that's what we did today. The science of the matter might have been lost on Bear, but she does know that it's fun.

The latest issue of my favorite magazine arrived in a manila envelope warning of dated content, looking very much like a prospectus for some investment opportunity. I really can't oversell this publication. That is, if you're not averse to the idea of eating or looking at pictures of animal flesh, and don't mind your food writing punctuated by lots of profanity and references to genitalia.

Looking for a new way to abuse plantlife, I picked up one of these DIY terrariums in male from Fab. How perfect is this, like tilt-shift up close.

In the waning hours at work tonight I decided to take on a great email upheaval that has carried over into the post-work hours. I tend to get a tad testy when it comes to computers being less than completely cooperative, a trait that can be a bit of a liability considering that my workdays are filled with computers being less than completely cooperative. And so I've taken a few steps back from the screen so that The Mr. might resolve some computer strife for me.

I know that hot dogs wrapped in puff pastry aren't going to garner me any mother of the year awards. But sometimes you find yourself with a package of the dough in the freezer, and some hot dogs in the fridge, and you go for the thing that might just make the kids' day.