loves my izzy!

...and my new adorable book shirt from christi! yay thank you! :)

Happy Easter!

Happy day before Easter! So...today, work was exciting. Because a HUGE group of mothers came (in the midst of our farmer's market crowd), to protest some alleged breast-feeding hate on the part of yours truly's coffeeshop. so we made them gingerbread ladies :) (cheri's idea. i cut the cookie dough. another baker decorated them because she is artistic :) they're totally scandalous.
the second picture is of this awesome shirt that D mailed me today! THANK YOU! :)
then some more pictures, food-themed...
Here is a random poem! have a wonderful easter!

A dollar for the debonair,
A thimble for my thumb,
A ribbon for a young girl's hair,
A word that goes and comes.
A twinkle for a blind blue eye,
New raindrops for the seed,
And that for which I never ask
But often am in need.

Moira Mushroom and her Unrequited Love

hello! what a great day for a nap! please? yes?
so, i was trying to multitask by listening to This American Life and writing a poem at the same time...which is silly, because i know i can't write while something listen-able is going on in the background. but...turning it off would've required movement, and i was comfortable, and...anyway, the poem suffered from my laziness i'm afraid. :) it's a totally depressing poem about a mushroom's unrequited love for a tree who doesn't even know she exists. poor girl.

Moira Mushroom had a crush
On Selwyn Sycamore.
"So tall and regal!" Moira gushed,
And loved him all the more.
"But will he ever notice me?
I barely reach his toes!"
She grabbed a handy, fallen leaf
And blew her sniffy nose.
She brightened up her spotted cap
And prayed that he'd look down,
But seasons came, and seasons went,
His leaves turned green and brown,
As Selwyn slowly grew and grew--
But Moira's height stayed fast,
Until she sighed, and shriveled up,
And found her peace at least.

new project! and something about vampires.

Here are some photos of my latest 'project'--magnets! basically i am drawing/coloring pictures, then going to cut them out, laminate, and stick magnets on the back. so easy! but incredibly fun :) a lot of them incorporate terrible puns, as you can see in the sample above. sigh...of course, my picture-loader was unable to figure out which way was north.

i dreamed about vampires last night...that i was being shown around a prison by a prison warden who was going on vacation, and i was supposed to substitute for him. but the doors to the cells were wooden, without windows,and there was a long long narrow staircase going down, with the doors getting narrower and i didn't know who or what was behind them. in my dream i saw that the warden got killed by a vampire-prisoner, who then escaped...but i don't think the self that was supposed to guard the prison knew that. that self had already gotten separated from the warden and found her way out of the building into the sunlight. for the time being.
but it was also kind of a movie in which i knew the outcome, and that Feist was playing the part of some vampire-prisoner who had a really good sense of smell and was hunting the other, mortal prisoners. what??
then i woke up replaying 'silence of the lambs' in my mind, which was the first time i'd thought about that movie since watching it (thank goodness!) and decided i'd better get out of bed and start the day before i scared myself silly!

Crazy.

The Forgetful Baker

Die Watchful Katzen! (that's pronounced "dee" not "die", and means "the" not..."die"...don't worry!)
Cake Decorating Class numero cuatro tonight! learning daffodils and other sundry flowers, yay! other items on today's agenda include: listening to today's New Testament reading, P90x, shower...eat...crafting of some sort :) listening to the sweet li'l birdies outside! promising! hope you all have a great day! today's poem needs no explanation i think...except that it's not autobiographical...thank goodness, although i don't usually wear an apron. oh, and update on the publishing...i still need to make myself go to the library and print things. sigh.



I didn't wear my apron, so
I'm fairly drenched in flour;
Nor did I wear my timepiece, so
I cannot tell the hour.
I didn't read the recipe,
Or measure anything
(Or cash my measly paycheck; now
I'm poorer than the King.)
I didn't turn the oven on,
Which may be just as well--
I prob'ly wouldn't turn it off,
But only smoke can tell..
My cake has fallen, I'm far more
Than fashionably late.
No thank you, turncoat mem'ry, for
Manipulating fate.

i've got landscaping!

Good evening!
Root beer is de-li-cious! and i made the world's ugliest gluten-free german chocolate cake at work. i think i was blushing as i carried the little horror out to the case "i didn't make this! don't look! it wasn't me!"...but oh, it was. thankfully, it was pretty darn tasty. actually, that's my second hideous cake in a row. yoikes.
eh, i don't know how this poem relates to me, because it has something to do with being content with where you are, and in finding rest in something (God??) other than whatever dissatisfaction may be driving you. or something. but i'm certainly not wanting to say, "don't strive for anything or pursue dreams". sorry, i'm distracted and not writing clearly. it seems to be kind of about aging and settling down, but i'm not settled yet :) so maybe it's not about me. here's the poem, anyway:

Once, when I'd more knowledge than
A shelf of brittle tomes,
My mind began to wander and
My heart began to roam,
Dissatisfied with "as it were"
And wanting to be "free"
I dreamed of dreams that took me
Where I wasn't meant to be.
Asleep among the hurricane,
Anticipating storm,
Mad-dancing when the daughter of
An avalanche is born--
A glare at danger, or a faint
Defiance of the sure,
I wanted to do everything
For which there is no cure.
But as I ran and dove and swore,
A peace replaced the ache--
At first I thought this signaled loss
And thought my heart would break.
But restless giving way to rest,
A void becoming full,
And beauty besting danger?
I'm contented. I am whole.

Days of Discontent

Good morning--
Today started off with coffee and getting to talk with a friend. Yay! That is a GOOD start, by the way. :)

Last night I was working on putting together a collection of poems from this blog, with vague ideas of sending said collection to publishers...What I came up with was 13-14 poems whose common theme is discontent. The working title of the collection is "Grumblings and Growings." :) which reminds me of Gurgi from the Prydain Chronicles. i don't know that that's something he'd actually say, but there you go. Anyway, the poems I have included are (and you don't have to remember these): the Nose Poem, the Scrawny Snail Poem, Silkie Shrimp, Smaller Sidney and Whiffle Jack, Orangutans, Little Lester Limabean, Fozzle Fox, Harold the Llama, Besty-Bonnie Bitty-Bat, Vernon the Vulture, Oracle (the song), The Dying Leaf, one other random poem that may or may not remain in the collection.
In the 'manuscript', I tried to group them together by: discontent with physical appearances (ex, the snail), discontent with one's character (ex, fozzle fox), and discontent with purpose/not knowing the future (ex, oracle or smaller sidney). Does that sound reasonable to you? Do you think that thirteen poems, which can be illustrated of course, is too few? I guess it all depends on what a company's looking for. and is 'discontent' too pessimistic for a children's book, even if some of the characters are just ridiculous? i don't think the collection leaves you without hope--the dying leaf comes to terms with his fate and is content, and whiffle-jack seems to indicate that you'll be better off if you just don't stress out too much :) Anyway, with that in mind, i wrote a sonnet on discontent this morning. it's from a child's perspective, but i think that it's autobiographical for me now, in many aspects...

I wish I were a different type of child,
Less-prone to fear, perhaps a bit more wild,
With deep green eyes that saw straight to the truth,
Past tricks and condescensions* to my youth.
I wish that it were easier to smile,
To drop my guard, and play a little while,
To dance outside in thunderstorms--to know
No harm will come from either friend or foe.
I wish I glared at Danger till it fled,
Instead of hiding underneath my bed
(Of course, I fear that refuge in the night
When sleeping monsters stir, and I've no light.)

I wish so much, and yet someday, I trust,
My fears and fear-born-dreams will turn to dust.


*how do you spell that?!