un·to·ward [uhn-tawrd, -tohrd]
1. unfavorable or unfortunate: Untoward circumstances forced him into bankruptcy.
2. improper: untoward social behavior.
3. Archaic. froward; perverse.
Origin:
1520–30; un + toward
"I wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to your Lego that you left on the floor."
When this word is used, the sentence always seems to be followed by a clearing of the throat. "Ahem." There is something unsaid or hinting about this word. Something taboo is afoot.
It is a Southern word that I remember my mother using quite frequently when I was a child. In fact, she once had a cold that was accompanied by a lot of that throat-clearing noise. I spent two weeks constantly on edge, trying to figure out what I had just done wrong. Ahem! Sorry... My hair was starting to thin by the time she recovered.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
Grapes of wrath
I had a drag-the-kid-screaming-from-the-restaurant moment with The Girl today. Basically, The Boy ate all the grapes from the fruit salad, and I wouldn't magically produce new ones for her. "The grapes are all gone," I told her. The scene escalated until I had to snatch her up and drag her miserable, 13-year-old ass out of the Bob Evans to cool down. After some severe negotiations (none of which included more grapes), we agreed to quiet down, return to the restaurant, and have a big chocolate chip cookie for dessert. But she still wasn't happy.
The waitress returned, offering more grapes, and I said, "NO. I cannot continue to pull miracles out of my butt for the rest of her life. She's going to have to learn to deal with it." The worst thing was that while I was gone, my parents felt the need to explain everything to the other diners. Oy. It's none of their business, Clearly, she's got issues. They'll figure something out.
Okay, here comes the comic relief. The waitress showed up and started rambling about how she had seen a show on TV about an autistic child who sang the national anthem, and I cut her off. I ordered pie for The Boy and asked The Girl what she wanted for dessert. Without hesitating, this blessed child said, quite clearly and calmly, "A chocolate chip cookie. And grapes." We laughed until we cried.
Around our house, April is "Autism is Painfully Obvious" month. We roll with it.
The waitress returned, offering more grapes, and I said, "NO. I cannot continue to pull miracles out of my butt for the rest of her life. She's going to have to learn to deal with it." The worst thing was that while I was gone, my parents felt the need to explain everything to the other diners. Oy. It's none of their business, Clearly, she's got issues. They'll figure something out.
Okay, here comes the comic relief. The waitress showed up and started rambling about how she had seen a show on TV about an autistic child who sang the national anthem, and I cut her off. I ordered pie for The Boy and asked The Girl what she wanted for dessert. Without hesitating, this blessed child said, quite clearly and calmly, "A chocolate chip cookie. And grapes." We laughed until we cried.
Around our house, April is "Autism is Painfully Obvious" month. We roll with it.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Is it time to panic yet?
Just realized we're going Up North to our camp for our early summer vacation in less than three weeks! NOT ENOUGH TIME!!
We'll be staying six weeks and then renting it out for the rest of the summer. I have one renter coming for Mother's Day weekend, and then it's ours for six weeks. That means we'll be back in the south in time for the fourth of July -- and the bulk of the heat. It also means we'll have some income to help pay for the house. And it also means I have double the worries of our normal Invasion-of-Normandy-style travel plans.
I'm half-way through setting up electricity, cable, wi-fi, mail, trash pickup, and a well-water test for the house Up North. I've already figured out how to pack all the house stuff, clothes, and cats for the trip. I've bought the roof rack, cat crate, and plastic bins. I need to finish sewing a quilt, clean the house, fix the car, shop for kids' clothes, and pack the clothes. And a bunch of stuff I'm sure I haven't remembered yet, like setting up the lawn service for Florida, forwarding the mail, picking up extra prescriptions, putting fresh batteries in the irrigation systems, stopping the newspaper, etc.
Oh, and have I mentioned that my lawyers Up North still haven't finished my LLC paperwork, so I can't cash any of the deposit checks for the renters? And I have one coming in two weeks?
When we get there, I have to change our homeowner's insurance, paint the house, insulate the attic, fix the deck, install new windows. My sister-in-law is trying to find us a contractor for those last two, so I'm waiting a few days before I ask her to find someone to put in the dock for the renters who are coming before we get there.
Is it time to panic yet?
We'll be staying six weeks and then renting it out for the rest of the summer. I have one renter coming for Mother's Day weekend, and then it's ours for six weeks. That means we'll be back in the south in time for the fourth of July -- and the bulk of the heat. It also means we'll have some income to help pay for the house. And it also means I have double the worries of our normal Invasion-of-Normandy-style travel plans.
I'm half-way through setting up electricity, cable, wi-fi, mail, trash pickup, and a well-water test for the house Up North. I've already figured out how to pack all the house stuff, clothes, and cats for the trip. I've bought the roof rack, cat crate, and plastic bins. I need to finish sewing a quilt, clean the house, fix the car, shop for kids' clothes, and pack the clothes. And a bunch of stuff I'm sure I haven't remembered yet, like setting up the lawn service for Florida, forwarding the mail, picking up extra prescriptions, putting fresh batteries in the irrigation systems, stopping the newspaper, etc.
Oh, and have I mentioned that my lawyers Up North still haven't finished my LLC paperwork, so I can't cash any of the deposit checks for the renters? And I have one coming in two weeks?
When we get there, I have to change our homeowner's insurance, paint the house, insulate the attic, fix the deck, install new windows. My sister-in-law is trying to find us a contractor for those last two, so I'm waiting a few days before I ask her to find someone to put in the dock for the renters who are coming before we get there.
Is it time to panic yet?
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Bon mots: obstreperous
ob-strep-er-ous (uh b STREP ur uh s)
1. resisting control or restraint in a difficult manner; unruly.
2. refusing to do a task simply because someone asked one to do it.
"My newly-teenage son is so obstreperous that if I asked him to breathe, he'd suffocate just to spite me. And then he'd blame me."
Seriously. What a jerk.
1. resisting control or restraint in a difficult manner; unruly.
2. refusing to do a task simply because someone asked one to do it.
"My newly-teenage son is so obstreperous that if I asked him to breathe, he'd suffocate just to spite me. And then he'd blame me."
Seriously. What a jerk.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Oh sure. Shorts... and a new bon mot!
So last night, I was out at the library (alone!) and phoned The Husband to ask if it was okay for me to run on out to Bealls to try on some shorts, as all of mine are rags.
He said, "Sure! Go have fun!"
He seemed mystified when I told him I couldn't do both. I swear, trying on shorts is becoming the new trying on swimsuits. Handy hint: if the zipper isn't at least three inches long, forget about them.
Bon mot for the day:
inveterate (in VET er it)
1. settled or confirmed in a habit, practice, feeling or the like: an inveterate gambler
2. stubborn as a mule, to the point of complete inflexibility
"I am an inveterate whiner."
I really have to work on that...
He said, "Sure! Go have fun!"
He seemed mystified when I told him I couldn't do both. I swear, trying on shorts is becoming the new trying on swimsuits. Handy hint: if the zipper isn't at least three inches long, forget about them.
Bon mot for the day:
inveterate (in VET er it)
1. settled or confirmed in a habit, practice, feeling or the like: an inveterate gambler
2. stubborn as a mule, to the point of complete inflexibility
"I am an inveterate whiner."
I really have to work on that...
Monday, April 22, 2013
Very elegant...
Apparently, my shirt tails are too short. I know this because when I was gardening last weekend, I got my annual pre-summer sunburn -- this time across my lower back where my t-shirt didn't quite meet my jeans in the back. (It's what I get for sitting in the dirt.) So, now I have a tramp-stamp sunburn mark with a little curve where the sun tried to burn my butt crack. It's very elegant.
See?
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Bon mots: facile and cloying
It's a twofer today! (I'll be looking up "twofer" later...)
fac-ile (FAS il)
1. easily done, performed, used, etc.: a facile victory, a facile method
2. explained in a way that is accessible to toddlers
cloy-ing (KLOI ing)
1. overly ingratiating or sentimental.
2. sickeningly sweet,: a cloying photo of a blue-eyed Jesus petting sheep
"I dislike attending church because the pastor's "me and Jesus" style of preaching is facile and cloying."
fac-ile (FAS il)
1. easily done, performed, used, etc.: a facile victory, a facile method
2. explained in a way that is accessible to toddlers
cloy-ing (KLOI ing)
1. overly ingratiating or sentimental.
2. sickeningly sweet,: a cloying photo of a blue-eyed Jesus petting sheep
"I dislike attending church because the pastor's "me and Jesus" style of preaching is facile and cloying."
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Manners
"Salt, please!"
It has a ring like, "More Park's Sausages, Mom!" Somehow, The Husband doesn't think that's bad manners. He says that The Boy does not have to sound like Little Lord Fauntleroy in order to get food. I say he does.
One of the perks of dinnertime is the Civilization Of the Next Generation, right? Most of the day, they can get away with, "You gonna eat that, or what?" But at dinner, the bar gets raised a bit.
Not that he doesn't resist any attempt on my part. Sometimes, he reflexively says, "thank you" and is appalled enough to complain that I have brainwashed him. Naturally, I simply laugh maniacally and say that it's part of my evil plan.
So, tell me, is it unreasonable to ask for, "May I have the salt, please?"
It has a ring like, "More Park's Sausages, Mom!" Somehow, The Husband doesn't think that's bad manners. He says that The Boy does not have to sound like Little Lord Fauntleroy in order to get food. I say he does.
One of the perks of dinnertime is the Civilization Of the Next Generation, right? Most of the day, they can get away with, "You gonna eat that, or what?" But at dinner, the bar gets raised a bit.
Not that he doesn't resist any attempt on my part. Sometimes, he reflexively says, "thank you" and is appalled enough to complain that I have brainwashed him. Naturally, I simply laugh maniacally and say that it's part of my evil plan.
So, tell me, is it unreasonable to ask for, "May I have the salt, please?"
A few bon mots...
I've been dropping my strange-but-true stories into Facebook for a few months, and I'm finding it too temporal. Things just fly by and disappear. Ew. I'm not up to writing endless prose, but maybe I can drop a word or two. For example:
op-ti-mism (OP-tuh-miz-uh-m)
1. a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.
2 what I feel when my day hits its low point several hours before dawn
"After snaking out the toilet at 2am, I'm optimistic that my day that will improve!"
op-ti-mism (OP-tuh-miz-uh-m)
1. a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.
2 what I feel when my day hits its low point several hours before dawn
"After snaking out the toilet at 2am, I'm optimistic that my day that will improve!"
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