Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay

I know that it is customary in the blogosphere to put a photo of yourself on your blog.  As I understand it, the reasoning goes that by showing the world what you look like, more people will be interested in what you have to say.  You will be legit.

[I have my doubts about the truth of this assumption, but that isn’t what I’m in the mood to talk about today.]

So, not wanting to seem standoffish or out-of-touch, I decided to look for a picture of me.  This project seemed easy enough until I realized that I have very few photos of me.  I think that I must have been Amish in another life because I don’t like to have my photo taken.  Ever.

Still, I persevered and eventually I found this photo of me, age 3 (maybe 4?).

I think that this photo is close enough to what I look like now to qualify as a current photo of me. I still squint when looking into the sun.  I still have short blonde, sometimes curly, not quite straight hair.  I still have a rather casual approach to everyday outfits.

However, there are two important things about me that have changed since this photo was snapped.  First, I wear glasses all the time.

[Feel free to print this photo and draw glasses on me.  Make them kind of rectangular, rimless, with no-line bifocals– and make them very expensive.]

And second, I no longer carry a toy gun with me wherever I go.  I cannot overemphasize this point enough.

You see, this photo was taken during my “Wyatt Earp/Dale Evans” phase when I was convinced that if I dragged this gun around with me all the time, I’d eventually get my parents to buy me a cute little cowgirl outfit.  My tactics failed.  I never got the outfit and at some point a few months after this photo was taken, my little gun mysteriously got broken and was thrown out.

While it’s true that I never achieved my cowgirl dreams, this photo of me and the toy gun remains today.  And because of it I can show the world who I really am.  Or was. And more importantly, I can show the world that I’m a serious blogger with a picture of myself clearly posted for everyone to see.

Pleasantly Surprised

We’re having a wood floor installed in our study this week.  Last June we had the same style of floor, 3.25 inch select white oak with a natural finish, installed in our living room and dining room.  We liked the look so much that we decided to put it in our study, which is across the foyer from the living room.

{At this point I know that it’d be very bloggerly of me to add a photo.  However, seeing as the study is entirely dismantled to allow for the above-mentioned project, I have no access to our desk top computer where all the little photos live.  Let’s just pretend that this side note is a photo, shall we?}

The things that I remember the most about getting wood floors installed are:  1) how noisy it is;  and 2) how smelly it is.  Well, guess what?  This time I’m not experiencing either of these phenomenon even though I am right here in the house with all the chaos going on around me.

How could this be, you wonder?

The answer is really quite simple.  I have a horrendous head cold that has muted my ability to hear much of anything and has clogged my nose to such a degree that I cannot even smell my morning coffee while drinking it.  This is one doozy of a cold which, if I may be so bold as to say, could be the best one I’ve ever had.

Think about it.  Here I sit in my physically diminished state while our house gets prettied up and I’m not inconvenienced one little bit.  Couldn’t of planned it better if I tried.  Which I didn’t.  Because who in their right mind wants a head cold– no matter how helpful it is?