Breaking the silence

Hello blog world!

Well, I have been out of the blogoverse (did I make that up or is it something nerdy I shouldn't say?) for a looooooooong time.

Between work and Stephen and the holiday seasonsss, I have found very little time for blogging.

And, to be even more honest, very little to blog about.

The most exciting thing to happen round here in the last few months (besides my 2 year wedding anniversary and our trip to WA for Christmas, which, while blog-worthy, happened so fast and went by like blurs!), is that my best Anna is illustrating a silly little children's book I wrote.

I've never been great at writing.

Don't get me wrong - I could knock out a solid B+ or A- research paper or reading response or other academic type writing.

And I've always been good at noticing other's good writing (which is why I love to read).

While in college, the most creative writing I did was for my poetry workshop and then the poetry writing class I took.

Poetry was not my forte, but I was actually proud of a few of my poems.

But not real writing. Not like, sit down and write a story writing.

But one day, bored and bored and bored, I wrote a little story for Stephen about 2 monkeys in the jungle who become friends.

Like any good husband, he loved it! And encouraged me to write more.

So then I had an idea for a story about a shark.

It stank.

And then, my best Anna drew a picture of a penguin.

(For those of you who don't know me well, I LOVE penguins!)

And the story just fell into my head.

So Anna is drawing the pictures to go with my story and pretty soon, there will be a real live (not really published but sill super cool for us) book, written by Heather Cowden and illustrated by Anna Robertson.

Years from now, when there are little Cowden's running 'round, I'll have a little illustrated storybook to read them that I wrote! And that Aunt Anna illustrated.

The same goes for Anna when she's got some babies!

It's cool and fun and I'm excited to see the finished product.

Penguin in Love, not coming soon to any bookstore, but coming soon to live with me!

The vanity continues:

Once again, this post is dedicated to my sister, Sarah Lewis:

I was going through this box of old cards and notes and such, because I am a major pack-rat and I felt like purging.

So it was while rummaging through this random box of hilarious memories that I stumbled upon this note.

I am an avid note writer. I wrote lots of notes in high school to friends in different classes, I wrote notes to folks in college, and I continue to write little notes to Stephen every once in a while.

This is one of the few notes I've received from Sarah. And here is why I kept it-- on the back of this note, she wrote me a poem. It cracked me up then, it cracked me up 5 minutes ago when I read it again, and I am hoping it will make you all laugh as well.

I also hope she does not mind me sharing this.... But it's so much more amusing than anything I could come up with today:

A POEM:

20 minutes to go
Can I make it? Probably so.
I miss your face, but by God's grace
I'll see you soon.
Last night I had a dream
(not like Martin Luther King's)
In my dream I had a baby
She was tiny and lived in water
I know, I know it's crazy, but I
surely loved my little daughter.
Adina kept screaming about a man in her bed,
I just wanted to hit her in the head.
That was my dream-- crazy as it may seem.
I'll go... pay attention now
And I'm tried of rhyming, so I don't care.
Poem over.

(In case some folks don't know, Adina was Sarah's college roommate)

I hope you enjoy this poem. I do!!

And Sarah, if I had seen this note on Sunday, it would have made it into the top 25 list. :)

They call me Eeyore:

"I cannot blog tonight," says I,
For if I do, I fear I'll cry.

And then my blog would no longer be funny;
for crying makes my nose more runny.

I've no jokes to tell, or stories, or songs.
My brain is mushed up, like stir-fry in tongs.

I know that I vowed to blog daily until
"Regular work!" I could happily peal.

But, my dear friends, I spoke a bit too soon,
for my life is more dull than I once assumed.

Because I am too tired to actually try:

If only we were llama

No matter if we knew how to place a comma

Although we couldn't wear pajama

And have no fingers for Bowl-a-Rama

I'd be happy with having less drama

Can you imagine a llama Obama?

Oh the places you go...

I'd like to share a story with you. It's no secret I'm not a big fan of pets. Just ask my husband.
There are many stories I could tell about ill-fated animals that crossed my path, but I was reminded of a particular one this week.

So anyway, I was working at an apartment compound's office this week, and on the desk where I sat there was a beta fish.

This beta fish was so unhappy.

It didn't swim much or eat much. It's scales were droopy and changing colors.
It looked close to meeting the Great Porcelain Gate to the Watery Beyond.
(or something poetic like that...)

Luckily, it didn't die while I was there. But it did remind me of the escapade that occurred several years ago involving myself, my then-roommate Erin B, and two fish named Zolton and Komini.

Erin and I had moved out of Leslie hall and into an apartment several minutes from campus in Bolivar. We were really excited about having our own place. Sarah lived with us for some months in our new abode, and moved out in January. Our place seemed a little lonely after she left, so we decided there was room for a pet in our lives.

So to Wal-Mart we went! Fish, we decided, was a safe pet for us. We bought a bowl and rocks and a plant-thing and food and a net and these flower pods that grow in the water. Once we'd picked out all the accessories, we looked at the fish.

We decided we wanted to go a step above goldfish. So we purchased these fancy fish. One was gold and one was silver. We named them Zolton and Komini (cause we love Gilmore Girls). So we took them home and set them up and waited for them to be exciting.

(*Spoiler alert: FISH ARE NOT EXCITING)

Well, they didn't seem to like their new home. Within 24 hours, Zolton died. Then about 8 hours later Komini bit the dust too. (I even wrote a little poem about our dead fishes)

BUT: did you know that Wal-Mart will refund your dead fish within like 60 days??
So we took our dead fish back and got new ones.

We decided to go with the goldfish this time, cause they are a hardier fish and they are cheaper.

These little guys were named Copper and Boom (again a GG reference).

And they did pretty well. We kept their bowl clean and fed them.

Pretty soon, though, Erin and I became bored.

Cleaning a fish bowl is gross and tedious. And, again I'll say, fish are boring.

So we decided to liberate them into the pond at the Bolivar park...

We put them into cups and drove out to the park. We said our good-byes and released them one at a time.

Of course, something big and murky probably nabbed them as soon as they hit the water, but we prefer to believe they are still alive and well in the pond. Maybe they are even giant goldfish now!

This is just one of my many attempts at being a good pet owner. They have all failed.

I'm not a pet person.

But at least I didn't try to liberate a puppy into the pond at the park...

Well, since I can't think of ANYTHING else...

I am blank-minded today. I can't think of anything to blog about... How sad.

I could talk about how awesome it was to get to spend about an hour and a half with my Mom, who flew through DFW on her way back to WA today.
We went to Whataburger and it rocked.
But there isn't much to say about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm so glad I got to see her! But that's really all there is to that story.

I could talk about the drive to and from DFW with Stephen.
We listened to his Summer Jamz CD and rocked out. Um...
And I'm out. We like driving together, but we don't talk much, we mostly sing along to the tunes. Not too exciting for readers.

I could talk about how it's my sister Rachael's 18th birthday tomorrow.
But I won't get to be there for the festivities. And I haven't seen her since my wedding. And I am pretty sad that I don't get to be in Washington for her 18th, so that might just turn out sad.

So, since I have nothing new to spin funny for you, I'll share with you a poem that I wrote about a year ago for a poetry class I was taking at SBU. This poem was actually written for a 'workshop class, where I wasn't getting a 'grade', which is why it is one of the few poems I've written that I actually like. All the ones I wrote for credit ended up being lame-o's. True story.

I hope you enjoy it:

An Address to the Prince

Doesn't it seem risky?
To place your whole future
on the hope that a shoe will fit only one girl?
And foolish, I think,
to believe that this slipper's size is unique,
since Betsy and I have the same size feet,
and you could stop at her house before mine.
Doesn't it seem
like you should be able to recognize
the girl with whom you danced,
and talked and laughed all night?

Of course,
I have the other shoe.
And I could step forward and prove
that I am the girl, the cause of this search.
But, if you aren't willing to risk, to find
me on your own--
if you are really going to place
all the weight on this shoe fitting
and nothing else--
I shouldn't want you anymore.