Marge Simpsons skirt.

This, as told by Smallest Person tonight:

"You can get Lego Simpsons. It’s sooo cool! You even get their car! Except you have to take Marge’s skirt off before you put her in the car, otherwise she can’t fit…So she has to drive in her undies."

That is all.

Things what I saw today. Some stories are short.

A woman walks out of the hospital and lights a cigarette.

Another woman is standing at the stove in my house. She holds a large knife at her shoulder as she watches a single frankfurter float in a pan of water.

I woke up this morning flat on my back in the bed, my arms at my sides. For a long moment I couldn’t figure out how to move.

How to score a game of cricket. Or, how to self-harm on the sideline.
Six balls bowled per over, up to eight balls.Note the runs for the batsgirl.And the bowler.Each run is marked by the number, four = 4 etc. So far so good.No runs, but a good straight ball is represented by a ‘dot’ on the page.A wide = a run, (or a point) and is marked by a +. And then that ball is bowled again.A ball above the waist, or if bowler has overstepped the white line is a ‘no ball’ and is marked by an O.Runs taken when the ball is not struck but escapes the wicket keeper, are called ‘byes’ and are marked by triangles. If the ball….Oh for *$%#@’s sake. Honestly. It just goes on and on.
—
Two of us score each game. One parent from each team, for reasons of fairness and torture. This morning, while mumbling our way through an ‘over’ my partner in-archaic-pencil-scratchings turned to me and asked:
"Is that your daughter?""Yes," I replied."She is an absolutely fantastic bowler." He said."Thank you." And I know he was telling the truth. She really has become a wonderful bowler, and her being left-handed somehow makes her special in the eyes of cricket lovers. I don’t know why, except to assume that her facing the other way like that is an edge against her opposition…it’s hard to play her.
He asked about how the club is helping her development, insisting that we have to look after those talented young girls, especially a left-hander like herself. It was unexpected praise from a parent of the opposition. And the truth of it is, it has all been her own doing.
Last year I helped out a lot, but this year she got taller, stronger, and faster, and her skills have surpassed my ability to coach or train her. As I never played cricket myself, or showed any particular skill with throwing things, I can’t lay claim to any of the credit. And that’s just wonderful, that is exactly how I like it.
All I need to do is wake her up in the morning.
—
Above in pictures, the sun rising over the Auckland Museum, shining directly into the eyes of the cricket scorers. Just great.

How to score a game of cricket. Or, how to self-harm on the sideline.

Six balls bowled per over, up to eight balls.
Note the runs for the batsgirl.
And the bowler.
Each run is marked by the number, four = 4 etc. So far so good.
No runs, but a good straight ball is represented by a ‘dot’ on the page.
A wide = a run, (or a point) and is marked by a +. 
And then that ball is bowled again.
A ball above the waist, or if bowler has overstepped the white line is a ‘no ball’ and is marked by an O.
Runs taken when the ball is not struck but escapes the wicket keeper, are called ‘byes’ and are marked by triangles. If the ball….Oh for *$%#@’s sake. Honestly. It just goes on and on.

Two of us score each game. One parent from each team, for reasons of fairness and torture. This morning, while mumbling our way through an ‘over’ my partner in-archaic-pencil-scratchings turned to me and asked:

"Is that your daughter?"
"Yes," I replied.
"She is an absolutely fantastic bowler." He said.
"Thank you." And I know he was telling the truth. She really has become a wonderful bowler, and her being left-handed somehow makes her special in the eyes of cricket lovers. I don’t know why, except to assume that her facing the other way like that is an edge against her opposition…it’s hard to play her.

He asked about how the club is helping her development, insisting that we have to look after those talented young girls, especially a left-hander like herself. It was unexpected praise from a parent of the opposition. And the truth of it is, it has all been her own doing.

Last year I helped out a lot, but this year she got taller, stronger, and faster, and her skills have surpassed my ability to coach or train her. As I never played cricket myself, or showed any particular skill with throwing things, I can’t lay claim to any of the credit. And that’s just wonderful, that is exactly how I like it.

All I need to do is wake her up in the morning.

Above in pictures, the sun rising over the Auckland Museum, shining directly into the eyes of the cricket scorers. Just great.

Current Neurosis and also things what I can’t find:
Stalling about moving house to be closer to work and school. It makes a lot of sense, and it means a better school for Big Sister – but it’s hard to leave this house we love and have been so happy in, and also, it costs a lot of money to move. Leaving our great neighbors is the worst. And how will Alice The Cat cope? 
Can’t find my cheque book.
My sinus infection is back - that’s twice in two months. Stressing about my low immunity, lack of exercise, and James says aoli from that Burger Fuel chicken burger is free-floating in my blood stream.
Stressing about stress.Also worrying that this makes me a crazy person. Did you just roll your eyes?
Trying not to freak out because, Big Sister took a bus ride to Wellington with her school, and left $300 worth of puffer jacket, rain jacket, trainers, phone charger on board.She then texted me this news at 7am the next day followed by, ‘Lol! I’m having a great time though!’
Do I have enough pens in my handbag…I’m never sure.

I’ve eaten a lot this week. And the doctors scales said I was 4kgs heavier than my home scales. #@$%^*&!# Doctors. What. Do. They. Know.
Staying up late tonight with Smallest Person, so we can pick up Big Sister off the bus when they get back at 9pm. I will then have to get both of them up at 6.45am to go play last game of cricket for the season. Not liking my chances.
Maybe it will rain.

Current Neurosis and also things what I can’t find:

Stalling about moving house to be closer to work and school.
It makes a lot of sense, and it means a better school for Big Sister – but it’s hard to leave this house we love and have been so happy in, and also, it costs a lot of money to move. Leaving our great neighbors is the worst. And how will Alice The Cat cope? 

Can’t find my cheque book.

My sinus infection is back - that’s twice in two months. 
Stressing about my low immunity, lack of exercise, and James says aoli from that Burger Fuel chicken burger is free-floating in my blood stream.

Stressing about stress.
Also worrying that this makes me a crazy person.
Did you just roll your eyes?

Trying not to freak out because,
Big Sister took a bus ride to Wellington with her school, and left $300 worth of puffer jacket, rain jacket, trainers, phone charger on board.
She then texted me this news at 7am the next day followed by, ‘Lol! I’m having a great time though!’

Do I have enough pens in my handbag…I’m never sure.

I’ve eaten a lot this week.
And the doctors scales said I was 4kgs heavier than my home scales. #@$%^*&!# Doctors. What. Do. They. Know.

Staying up late tonight with Smallest Person, 
so we can pick up Big Sister off the bus when they get back at 9pm. I will then have to get both of them up at 6.45am to go play last game of cricket for the season. Not liking my chances.

Maybe it will rain.