Life. It’s about ALL the things.
When a person writes about their life, a person sometimes feels one must share the writable moments.
The impressive or dramatic… the fabulous or terrific.
Apparently… the origin (Latin) of the word terrific actually means… terrificus frightening, equivalent to terr ( ēre ) to frighten. Source.
CrazyZHAY… right? There are other crazy-commonly used words that apparently we are using WAY wrong. Check out this post I stumbled upon while stalking friends on Facebook.
I digress, but I HAD to share that!
Ironically, I will probably never use “ironic” correctly. Isn’t that TERRIFIC?! Be sure to peruse the article! I am bemused by this.
No, really. I am literally BEMUSED.
*whistling my way back to the point*
Most days are not filled with jet-setting, champagne, and celebrity. Or any day. MOST days are filled with breakfast, email, cleaning-up breakfast, writing, lunch, email, errands, cleaning-up lunch, dinner, cleaning-up dinner, email, writing, laundry, sibling rivalry, time-wasting and avoidance behavior on Facebook, paying bills (or NOT paying bills)… and email/suchwise/insert your own daily grind here.
One day, the grind included an inpromptu trip to the doctor’s office. We got right in to see the doctor, but had to wait 2 hours for the x-ray.
Pictured above is the fractured finger of the 11 y.o. due to…. rolling over and bending in backwards.
I told her we needed to make up a more terrific story.
Terrific, in the LATIN sense of the word.
Pictured below is the bottom dish rack from the dishwasher.
One of the kiddos did the dishes and had a lapse in remembering we use Method dishwasher tablets not Method DISH SOAP. Bright side: we were home and I caught the fiasco just as the suds were escaping the machine.
I finally lost my toenail.
The one I beat the heck out of running the Seattle Rock and Roll half-marathon a month ago. A little nail polish and as long as no once looks closely, we should be fine.
And it doesn’t hurt. Not even one little bit. Well, not ANYMORE.
The family went down to the local waterfront to listen to live music. The local parks and rec does that for a few evenings every summer. It’s quite lovely.
This time we took Puppy Gus. We learned Puppy Gus loves to “talk” to other dogs.
He looks like he’s smiling in this picture. He may have been, but he also may have been panting. Ya know… let’s go with “happy puppy”. Everybody loves a happy puppy. And he really is a pretty happy pup even though we didn’t let him get an ice cream cone!
And this is us on our way to downtown to get in a little live music.
It’s no big deal, except it is.
It’s not the big things. It’s not he fabulous things. It’s not the terrific things.
It’s the little things. This little thing. That little thing… that build up to the big picture of family.
Bubbling dish washers.
And broken fingers.
And spontaneous trips to listen to live music at the park.
And ice cream.
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