The Stoop

We have been takin' that dishrag full of summer and wringing it out for all it's worth. Tippin' that cup back and pounding on the bottom, sucking with all our might to try and get every last drop. Wearing sandals and tank tops on the farthest precipice of too cold for that to try and soak in all the Vitamin D we can before autumn's inversion sets in and once again our sun goes and hides itself behind sheets, nay, comforters of grey for who knows how long. Ok, enough metaphors that don't quite work. Let me just say this, September has been pretty sweet. And in my book sweet is synonymous with sunny. In the glorious tradition of The Cosby Show and 227, we have taken ourselves a stoop. Yes, just call me Marla Gibbs...or Jackée Harry? (haha that just made me laugh). And speaking of Jackée Harry, what ever happened to TV shows where when the bombshell character came on set the live studio audience whistled and woo-ed? I'm looking at you, Delta Burke. Delta Burxom. And speaking of Delta Burke, I just discovered that she and Gerald McRaney are still married. Mad props for that. And what ever happened to live studio audiences anyway? Ahem, back to the stoop. The apartment building next to us has some unused steps right by our entrance. And it happens to be bathed in sunlight much of the time, so we take a ball and some sidewalk chalk and scooters and I take my coffee and we play. It's so nice. We watch the neighborhood go by and the girls throw pebbles into puddles and Lily makes ''ranges'' (she misheard me when I said flower ''arrangement'') out of clover and plantain leaves, which we put into salt shaker vases. And I'm just really gonna miss it when the snow flies. If the snow flies. I was remembering this morning how last year the snow flew exactly once. And poor little Lily was out there trying desperately to make a snowball, and all she got was muddy mittens. I hope for her sake we can have some good neighborhood night sledding sessions like in years past. But let's not think about that just yet. I'm quite content to sit on our stoop, or the newly-added picnic table by the basketball court behind our flat and watch our two little flowers grow.     

Reverse ladybug

Mama, how do you make a G?

Sweater number two