Not Again

There is snow in the forecast.

Not happy, not happy, not happy.

 

So not happy.

Are you getting the unhappy part?

Winter is the worst, and it isn't even winter yet.

So Genius

Honey just keeps getting better and better at this.

(Note words for mouth in pumpkin on the right.)

Really Rally

The J.Crew catalogue showed up last week. Normally, I'm a Container Store/Ballards/Shih-Tzu Today kind of gal, but I was kind of intrigued by the fall clothes and paged through pictures of girls who clearly haven't had a sandwich in this decade.

And then, I came to this:

Allow me to be your bifocals and blow this up a bit:

Slim, Stick and Skinny.
Really, J Crew?
Wrong in any demographic.

Eeeek!

Margaret Hamilton wishes you a Happy Halloween

(and your little dog, too)*

*with thanks to Marilyn for a great invite and a witchy good evening.

4 Days Late

Naperville Now is officially one. And 4 days. (It should come as no surprise to those who know me that I don't do numbers well.)

Again my thanks to Julie Powell, who apparently is no longer blogging. (And divorced from Eric, much to my dismay. Loved him in Julie and Julia.)

Also my thanks to Kristin Espinasse, author of French Word-a-Day, who has blogged about living the writing life at http://www.french-word-a-day.typepad.com/. Pour votre inspiration, Kristin, merci merci merci.

In lieu of cake, which I dislike, let's celebrate, shall we? Grab a flute. Guy in tux optional.

Naperville Neutral

When we moved to Naperville from Atlanta 23 years ago, the phrase Naperville Neutral was in vogue. It meant that the whole house vibe -- paint, carpet, kitchen -- HAD to be a safe beige, so when the owners were transferred to Detroit or Cinci or Dallas seven months down the road, the house could be sold lickety-split. Sans color, sans character, sans everything.

Which puts me in mind of the scenery around Whalon Lake, which is being drained of color at an alarming rate:

Love the plants and people who defy the rules.

Sunk Indeed

Fourteen years ago, our youngest daughter wrote "The Shih-Tzu Report," which proclaimed in no uncertain terms the 10 top reasons why our family had to get this breed of dog.

We read it. We argued it. We bided our time. Shortly thereafter, Bandit, 3, was dropped off by his owners at the Hinsdale Humane Society, where we visited one day later. After much sniffing and general reconnoitering, he jumped up into Anna's 9-year-old lap. "You're sunk!" our eldest whispered to me.

You know how this ends: in a matter of days, Bandit had his own chair at our dinner table. (We're not very educated in the dog-owning department, just the dog breed itself.)

And so to our 17-year-old Bandit, who enjoyed a walk yesterday on the Whalon Lake bike path and sniffed every wildlife hazard along the way, Happy Birthday. According to the Internet, that makes you somewhere between 81 and 84 years old.

You look half your age, buddy.