Thursday, August 17, 2017

I Have a Few Tiny Issues

My thoughts: I can't take an egg from the middle of the dozen. Who would do that? Actually, I can do this. Watch me. I'm going to mix it up. I don't have to do everything in order. Check me out. This is probably really good for my brain to do something differently. This just looks wrong though. I mean, it's out of order. Am I really going to take an egg from the middle like an animal? I am going to leave it like this and close the crate and put it back in the fridge. I will not change it. Will not. Not going to change it. I'm taking a photo of this. There. It's back in the fridge. I will not think about those eggs sitting in there out of order. At all. They're fine. They're just fine. The eggs are fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine. They're just eggs. Out of order. 

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

The First Day of School

It's the first day of school. The dogs have made it clear that they do not approve and would rather have Bob home with them. I tried explaining to them that now their days are their own and they can hang out and drink coffee on the back porch and cruise their social media accounts without interruptions but they don't seem to be buying it.

I've tried to get them away from thoughts of how time is speeding up. They keep harping on how Bob's first day of fifth grade only serves as a reminder of how it seems like just ten minutes ago that Bob was starting pre-school. I try to explain how time works and then request that they stop speaking in tired, suburban clich├ęs.

They have suggested homeschooling Bob and have volunteered to monitor P.E. in the backyard and help Bob write a report about sharks. (They're really into sharks.)

They walk past his room and sigh.
They sit at the front window and sigh.
They order things they don't need off of Amazon and sigh.
They survey the contents of the fridge and close the door without getting anything out.
And then they sigh.

I reminded them, that Bob is walking home with Felix as usual and should be rolling in the door around 3:00pm. They checked the time on my phone and then just stared at me. They still don't understand how time works. Who does, really?

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Technically, It's Not Baseball

"Hey, Mom - you wanna come see? I have to rest up for the game tonight so I put together a puzzle."

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Smacksy Sunday Links

Summer night coffee on the porch with Mr. Rosenberg.

"Because you are touching the divine." Beautiful words of advice.

Ask for the mug.

Oh my goodness, this couple.

Inside 40 artist studios.

And cats in pumpkin hats ringing bells for food.

Happy Sunday.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Friday, August 11, 2017

I Love Bob So I Will Sleep On His Shoes

In an effort to help Teddy and Levi get themselves together, the whole family is going through some dog training. These boys are the nicest, but apparently it's not necessary for them to have the run of the house.
Who knew?
So, old dogs, new tricks. And by that I mean me, Bob, and Mr. Rosenberg.
Story developing.

Thursday, August 10, 2017


When I try to get in bed, these guys immediately secure the perimeter leaving me with a little less than 15% of the real estate. 

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

That Too

"I can really see all of your hard work with your swing, Bob. You're a monster."

"A monster?"

"Yeah! You're doing great."

"Mom, "monster" isn't really a compliment. I think you mean I'm a beast."

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

See This Movie

Years ago, I sat "behind the glass" at a focus group for a comedy pilot I produced. The panel of audience members discussed the show specifically and then went on to talk about comedy in a general way. At one point in the conversation, they agreed that comedy was what gets them through the awful parts of life. Specifically, they shared about 9-11 and how they each turned to different types of comedy as a way to cope with the national tragedy. For me, it was a reminder that comedy, like storytelling, like music, is noble, lifesaving work.  Comedy is a healing and sacred language that has the potential to save the world.

My friend Jordan Brady produced and directed a new film, I Am Battle Comic that was released today. It's a funny and sometimes heartbreaking look at the importance of comedy, and the comedians who travel the world to entertain our troops. You will laugh and you will cry and  you will come away from it reminded that comedy is one of the most powerful things we have going for us as humans.

Click here to see where you can watch the film right now.

Monday, August 7, 2017

The One Where I Show You All the Garage

This is our garage. It's being generous to say that it's a one-car garage because yes, you can pull one car in, but then there is no room on either side to get a door open. We decided to use the spot for a bit of storage and a music practice space for Mr. Rosenberg. It has now been transformed by our beloved handyman, Mr. Jerry.

I am pretty excited about it.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Super Wish This Didn't Happen

"Over here, Bob! I see protractors down here!"

"Thanks, Mom."

"Here you go."

"That's not a protractor."

"Yes it is."

"No, it actually isn't. It's a compass."

"I know it says that but compass is another word for protractor."

"Mom? You are completely wrong about this. Look. This is a protractor. It even says it on the package. Protractor here  - and this one's a compass."

"That's weird. Why would they label that half-round ruler a protractor?'

"Oh my God, Mom. Really?"


It's all beautiful.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

My New Mantra

Bob and I have been trying out a three-minute meditation app to help with his baseball focus and my everything focus. We have had varying degrees of success with trying not to giggle through the whole thing. This morning, we were assigned a "Mindful Walking" meditation. We were to breathe deeply and feel our feet making contact with the floor as we walked slowly through the house. We made it about a minute and a half in and then as Bob and I passed each other in the hallway, he busted into an impromptu dance break. In the process of the get down, he accidentally stomped on my left foot and elbowed me in the chest.


I think I have a new mantra.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Hiding Out

Teddy is afraid of loud noises. When he is frightened, he squeezes into a small space in the bathroom in front of the sink and won't come out until the storm has passed. Yesterday it was 100° and humid. In the afternoon, there was a light thunder storm. Teddy ran to his spot in the bathroom and Bob didn't want him to be alone.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Far Out

To celebrate our wedding anniversary last month, Mr. Rosenberg and I went to dinner at a lovely restaurant in Topanga Canyon, Inn of the Seventh Ray. Topanga has a reputation for being the last LA holdout of the 1960s. It's a lovely rustic place with a distinctly counter-culture-y vibe. It reminds me some of Northern California, where I grew up.

While we were waiting for our table, Mr. R and I ducked into the restaurant bookshop to have a look around. We entered into a cloud of Electric Musk incense and burning sage. I coughed and took in the woven dream catchers, bowls of crystals, and stacks of new age books. I smiled at the stereotypical hippie-ness of the store. As I glanced around, I recognized the titles of a rather large number of books that I have at home. I saw decks of the same tarot cards I own and the goddess cards I read everyday. I looked through the hanging Mala meditation beads, comparing them to the ones that hang on my armoire. As I passed a mirror, I checked out my own long hair and flowing maxi dress and it finally dawned on me.

"Oh my God, Jeff. I just had a life-altering realization."

"What's that?"

"I'm a hippie."

"Yeah, and?"

"I mean the thing I've always sort of made fun of - I am it. I am an actual hippie."

"Wait, you didn't know this?"

"You did?!"


"But I've always been sort of a judgmental a-hole about hippie-ness!"

"I know. I always thought you were being self-deprecating - that you'd made peace with it."


"Oh, wow."

"Stop laughing!"

How had I missed this glaring detail about myself for the last fifty-two plus years? How did I overlook the evidence? The Prius we just dropped at the valet? The baby-wearing I did with Bob? The folk musician I married? The whole vegan thing? That I have a psychic, a kinesiologist, and a Native American medicine man listed in the contacts on my phone? The rescue dog? The garden in our backyard? The Himalayan salt lamp in our living room? The organic restaurant I was currently standing in?

"But I'm not good at yoga. I had laser hair removal. I hate patchouli. I never even played hacky sack."

"Uh huh."

"I'm not like that beekeeper/clown instructor I knew named Rock who rode a unicycle everywhere kind of hippie."

"How did you meet him?"

"In the 80s I worked for his sister-in-law Daphne at a Balinese imports store on the mall in Santa Cruz."

"Aaand scene."