Sunday, November 18, 2007

I Like Stuff

I am not a complete misanthropic, snark-o-lating, petulant little wasp. (And by that I do not mean W.A.S.P., although I happen to be one of those as well. I mean the stinging kind of insect, the kind that flies out of one's eaves and alights on one's neck when one is enjoying a fine day. And then completely spoils it.)

I am really a softhearted type. You'd be surprised. When a group of people at work sit around and decree that they don't like a person known as "chew toy," I shout out "Nay! What's that you say? Chew Toy is a nice person. I quite like Chew Toy." Or, when they similarly announce--much to my surprise--that a colleague named Tippy Fitzwallop is annoying because of the way he wears his shirts and taps at his keyboard with hammy fingers, I am flummoxed. "But I like old Tippy," I'll say. "Don't you people like Tippy, too? Why wouldn't someone like a person such as Tippy?"

These stories are true. Just the names have been changed. I am a truly charitable sort! Or maybe I am just fond of the nerds and mugwumps of the world. They don't trouble me one bit. Yes, as long as they don't cross me, they can stay well off the "hate list." Admittedly, I am an Equal Opportunity Hater and will look for victims of my ire among rich and poor.

If you go too far you may land on the "hate list." By that I mean stompling on my pet bunny, piddling on my gardenias, or maybe neglecting to say thank you after I have put in hours o' work to net you a big work-related reward of some kind.

But lest I vent too much and upset some people's tummies, I will now indulge in some sweet listmaking.

Here are 20 Fine Things I Like Right Now.
1. The rubber stingray that came with my boy's latest bathtoys set. It is so lifelike! I wish it could really swim. I want to pet it.
2. Nicely polished wood.
3. The fact that my husband is singing with great heart and volume while on the potty.
4. I'll probably be censored for number three, but I like the Freedom of Speech that is granted to every American citizen! No matter how momentary...until husband reads blog.
5. Fresh raspberries in a bowl of milk. Or cream. Or whipped cream.
6. Bergamot and vetiver.
7. The gallopy horse on a stick that belongs to my boys. It's a head! On a stick! It makes a "phphphghghmm!" sound after the galloping noises end.
8. Ice cream cakes.
9. The fact that my oldest son named his wooden truck "Woodeny" and his plastic wagon "Wagony," and he hosts arts & crafts events and dance soirees for them and their other friends (who happen to be trucks and trains).
10. This Rilo Kiley album.
11. I have never had the nickname "Whiskers."
12. The author Sarah Waters. She writes historical fiction about Victorian England, and has some lesbian themes in her books, which isn't my bag, but what a great writer! I also just read "The Meaning of Night" by Michael Cox, also about the same time period. Excellent.
13. The following combination of words: "Buzz, buzz, buzz goes the bumblebee! Wiggly, wiggly, wiggly goes the worm!" They are fun to say out loud.
14. My littlest boy pointed at a Thanksgiving turkey decoration today and said: "I wike dat chicken!"
15. Board games. How about a round of Cranium? They have a category called: Sculptorades! My friends and I pronounce that word in the same way that the Nasonex bee would. You try it.
16. Horse chestnuts. I used to collect them in a bowl when I was little. I thought it was like finding a fat diamond right on the street. Now I have a chestnut tree in front of my house. What luck!
17. My oldest son can write his name. Now that he can do this, he won't stop. He writes letters on bits of ribbon, scraps, upside down and everywhere. I like to see his name written down; he has staked his claim on this realm. One day, he will read.
18. Somewhere on this cold, clammy night, the White Mountains of New Hampshire are standing there, stolid, undisturbed, and lasting whether or not I take the time to remember them. But I just did remember them.
19. The sound of a guitar being tuned is always familiar and true.
20. Whoever you may be, still reading.


Anonymous said...

Oh Pony Dear, you are just fine when you're enraged and huffling petulant bile, stamping a hoof in the face of dumb humanity, but when you turn on the jets of sweetness and light, well, there's not a darn thing wrong with that either. As the Littlest One says, "I wike dat chicken!" Guitars being tuned, and the imposing and enduring mountains of New Hampshire, did ye say? Anyone up for some guitar in the forest at night, or tunes on South Baldface? Har! Clear the decks for sing-along fun, and stately walks with Eternity at your elbow, and a new adventure with one's every boot-fall!

CMF-er for-freakin'-ever, NH Chapter

Anonymous said...

You forgot to mention raindrops on roses.

Anonymous said...

and whiskers on weasels

Jenny Phresh said...

Anonymous peoples! Identify yourselves. (Oh, not you, S, I know you just haven't figured out how to sign up for an identity yet. Plus the spooks are after ye.)

Anonymous said...

We like to remain anonymous. That might make you angry, and as a result you'll write a funny blog entry and vent at us, the anonymous lurkers of the Internet!

Anonymous said...

See, that's the weird thing. My name really is "Anonymous." My parents thought it was funny, but it kinda f***ed me up a little.