Of Dryer Lint And Toilet Paper Tubes

I have an accidental start to hoarding.  Let me start from the beginning:

A few years ago, I decided that at the very least, I should be recycling the paper tp tubes, but at the best, I'd be saving them for crafts.  I mean, how many times have we gone to our cupboards to put together eight binoculars for Sunday school, and there were no tubes to be had?  I know, right?  All the time!  Since I am frequently the changer of the toilet paper roll, I started setting the tubes aside to put away later.

Later turned into never and occasionally I will do a clean sweep of the bathroom shelves and recycle all the tubes I find.

Dryer lint and I go way back.  When I was young, I'd read of an artist who used dryer lint as her medium.  This made perfect since to me because dryer lint can be the softest shades of pink, purple and gray.  Lovely!  I wanted to start my own art form, based on stealing all the lint, but that was ix-nayed by the parents!  As an adult, I don't like it.  I hate pulling the trap out.  But I do, and since I'm half lazy, I leave the trappings in a small basket in the laundry room, referred to me as the laundry garbage but really it was just a nice basket to hold toys that somehow ended up empty by the dryer and was commandeered into service.

So I have two piles of accidental hoarding: toilet paper tubes and dryer lint.

Imagine my great joy when I discovered that someone else had two piles of the same and instead of stressing that she was starting to go nuts, she stuffed the lint into the tubes and called it fire starters! So I took a tube of my own, stuffed it with lint, and thought, "Yep, that will catch fire fast," and then was super disturbed that I am hoarding a basket full of flammable stuff and then wondered if this genius lady has a pet because my lint seems to be half made up of dog fur which seems like something I won't enjoy burning.....

Yet I have taken all the tubes I found and added them to the lint basket.  I'll never know for sure unless I give it a try!

Hope

Hope is my lifeline

When things are wrong

I grip that rope with all my strength

No chance of letting go

For what is life without Hope of better things to come?

I don't want to know

We Slept With The Windows Open

We slept with the windows open

Letting in the cool night air
The early morning sun
The cries of the gulls

We slept with the windows open

Snuggled under covers
Letting go of outside cares
Peaceful moment in a busy world

We slept with the windows open

Right This Very Minute

Sixteen years ago right this very minute
I was awake and waiting
Daddy was snoring on a fold out couch
I touched my baby belly
Wondering who you'd turn out to be: Leah or Jacob
Today would be the day we'd meet
I just knew it
4 weeks shy of full term
You arrived as perfect as perfect can be
And you haven't stopped making us smile
Today right this very minute
I'm waiting for you to wake up to start your birthday celebration!


Post inspired by my Daughter's 16th birthday and prompt #2 at Mama's Losin' It!

Linking up with Papa is a Preacher.

Toothpaste Cap Blues

Years ago, I switched to a slightly more expensive toothpaste, not because it has fantastic promises of anti-cavity, anti-gingivitis, and whitening thrown in to boot, but because it had a flip top.  In my family, a screw on cap for toothpaste is the worst.  I might be the biggest culprit in this, but I'm not the only one, who forgets to screw it back on after use.

In time the toothpaste tube sits in a puddle of sticky blue gel and the lid has rolled off the counter to hang out in no man's land, behind the toilet.

But the lure of a sale price and two coupons caused me to buy a different kind of toothpaste and I groaned when I opened the box to see that darn screw on cap.

I'm afraid it's just a matter of time before the cap is gone and the tube starts it's downward slide to the garbage.  Honestly, an uncapped tube of anything that sticky seems to have a magnetic force that attracts every single stray hair and fluff of dust in the room.  

But it only cost me 88 cents....so I'd probably do it again next time too.  We can learn to screw the lid back on.  I hope!

I Can Feed An Army

It has become painfully clear lately that all my go to recipes are designed to feed an army of teenagers: mostly grown, very hungry, teenagers.  The painful part is that since graduation, I don't have an army to feed, which is why my daughter and I ate fajitas three nights in a row.

It's leftover central in the fridge, and even tonight, as I was making homemade mac and cheese, I told myself to cut it in half, instead of 2 cups of milk, I only need one.  It's simple math on this one, and yet I didn't do it.  What if the recipe doesn't taste as good when it's not in its full glory?

I guess I'll change when I get sick of leftovers!  Currently I have mac and cheese to feed us for another night and have some for lunches too.

I can feed an army, but I've got to relearn to cook so I can feed just a few.  I think it's easier said than done!

Squeaks and Squiffles

Give me a smallish sized pebble,
A sock with a wrinkle,
A scuff so deep it's see through,
But save me from a squeaky shoe.

I'll take an invisible splinter,
A rubbed hard blister,
A strap that's hard to buckle,
But save me from a shoe that squiffles.

For every step I'm taking,
A squeak that keeps the rhythm,
A squiffle that taps the timing,
I'll tiptoe through my walking.

I have no music talent
Except on days I'm wearing
Those dreadful squeak-o-ramas
I could be a band's percussions.