Monday, April 27, 2009

The Writer Goes Off Sugar

Run for your lives! Head for the hills! Every cat and stuffed animal for himself!

What are you talking about?

The Writer gave up sugar, haven't you heard? Life in this house will be utter misery. The crankiness. The moodiness. The yowling. The tantrums.

Sounds like one of your typical days. Yes, The Writer has made the brave decision to give up sugar and refined flour. That means no "cookie" for you when The Writer used to have her evening sweet treat.

She always broke off a little piece for me--I like angel food cake the best.

Funny, I think of you as a devil's cake type. Anyway, she needs our support.

But I can't beg for any of this stuff she's eating now. Sprouted wheat bread. Flax cereal. Crackers covered in birdseed. Did you try one of those? It's like eating a poker chip. All her food is brown.

All your food is brown.

Yeah, but I like human treats. High fructose corn syrup . . . dextrose . . . yum! The good thing is it probably won't last. None of her diets do. And when she falls off the wagon again, I'll be there, waiting for my angel food cake.

You're so loyal. So faithful. I'm all teary-eyed.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Writer Needs a Wardrobe Makeover

Will you look at this hideous thing? It's a disgrace.

That's The Writer's favorite sweater. She wears it every Easter and to spring school visits. What's wrong with it?

Stacy London and Clinton Kelly would scream if they saw this on their show What Not To Wear. This sweater would be the first thing they'd throw in the trashcan.

What do you know about that TV show? We don't even have cable.

I saw a little when I was at Becky's Book Reviews (yes, Becky Laney actually watches television). This sweater is BRIGHT pink and has strings of blue and pink pearls, appliqued carrots and eggs, appliqued bunnies with fluffy tails, and buttons covered with seed beads. The Writer is not seven, she's fifty--
A gentlemen never reveals a lady's age.

Anyway, Stacy and Clinton would tell her to wear bootcut jeans, jackets nipped in at the waist, pencil skirts, and knife-point spike heels.

Winchester, The Writer sits in her office all day, alone. Why should she dress up? And when she visits schools, she often has to stretch cables for her equipment or sit on the floor with children. A pencil skirt and pointed-toe high heels aren't very practical.

All right. Let The Writer stay dowdy. Don't say I didn't warn her.

Friday, April 10, 2009

The Easter Basket

I see The Writer has fixed an Easter basket for Her Husband, like she does every year. With a bunny a grown man wouldn't want and all her favorite candy.

Well, it's a tradition. The Writer loves Easter. The basket is over 100 years old. It came from a general store that had been closed for over 50 years. And she's had it for many years herself.

She had a little problem with the candy this year, didn't she?

It wasn't her fault. The stores put the candy out right after Valentine's Day. So she began buying creme-filled eggs and other goodies. But the candy kept calling to her and she nipped in the bag every day until it was empty. So she went out and bought more candy.

And ate that.

I'm afraid so. Finally, she bought two of everything. One chocolate egg for her, one for the basket. Then she hit Mary's Cakery and Candy Kitchen. She had to have those creamsicle bunnies.

Should we mention the jellybean meltdown?

Oh, that's so embarrassing. In one week The Writer ate four pounds of jellybeans.

She didn't look so hot. I thought we might have to enter her in a twelve-step program for Jellybeans Anonymous.

The basket is beautiful as always. And in the The Writer's defense, she bought Her Husband several DVDs.

Now she can eat his candy and not feel guilty.

Happy Easter, everybody!

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Becoming Real

What's all this stuff?

Just looking at one of The Writer's Easter displays. She loves Easter and puts out vintage postcards and greeting cards and books about bunnies and duckies. And this book.

The Velveteen Rabbit. What's that about?

This is my favorite book of all time. I'm reading it again because of something The Writer said when she came back from her last school visit. She shows slides of you--

Always a crowd-pleaser.

--and me. One of the kids asked if I had eyes. The Writer forgets that to other people, I'm this shabby old thing.

Compared to my youthful good looks and exuberance, it's not hard to see why. Did you have eyes?

Of course I had eyes! Nice gold ones. But they fell out, one at a time. And my red velvet-lined ears and feet got rubbed away. And my plush is worn down to the fabric. But I'm still me. In fact, I'm more than me. I'm Real.

Is that what happens in The Velveteen Rabbit? The rabbit becomes real?

Yes, the rabbit does become a real rabbit, but I'm more like the wise old Skin Horse. He says, "Real isn't how you are made. It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

How long does this becoming Real take?

A long time. In the book the Skin Horse says, "Once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. Once you are real, you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

So it doesn't bother you when other people think you're old and kind of crummy-looking?

Not the least little bit. It's what inside that counts, right? Right, Winchester?

If I ate this chocolate bunny, should I start with the ears or just bite his whole head off?

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Winchester Moves Back Home

You're back!


When did you get home? What happened? Did you like it at Becky's blog?

Becky is really nice. She fed me way better kibble than what I get here. And she made me Head Book Reviewer, but--

But what?

She found out I can't read any words besides "the," "cat," and "food." So I came home.

Did you tell her goodbye properly?

I gave her a great big wet nose-kiss. We're cool. It's all good between me'n Becks.

I could teach you to read. Then you could review books for real if you want--

Could you keep it down? I'm watching "Monarch of the Glen" and this is the good part.

Welcome home.