Meghan's Musings

So how's everyone been?? A horror of epic proportions has been visit upon me! I've not been able to wear eye make-up since last Sunday! Last Friday the corner of my right eye was uncontrollably itchy. When I awoke to as sore eyelid Saturday I figured it was because I may have been to vigorous with my scratching. Then I noticed the lid was red and puffy. Said deformity didn't abate Sunday, and Monday morning Shiloh and I shuffled on down to the nearby Minute Clinic. The Nurse Practitioner looked at me and said, "You have a stye on your eye." (That was one of my own self-diagnoses thanks to Google.) She gave me drops to administer every four hours while awake and I must put a warm compress on it for 15 minutes 4 times a day. I also can't wear my contact lenses and I had to throw out all my eye make-up. I was able to find a kit of sixteen different colors through Victoria's Secret for a great price. That should be here on Monday, and I've cleaned my m

Apple Cinnamon Sour Cream Coffee Cake. Third time was a charm for this scrumptious slice of heaven. I made it three times within a one week period. The first time was to take some for my quarterly visit (I'd like to up this to at least bi-weekly) with Christi, aka Super Friend . We ran into each other unexpectedly at the local playground, she'd just picked her boys up from school and brought the there - Shiloh and I were already there. (We made some new friends at the library, and that was mutually agreed upon time and day to bring the kids together. Also, this new friend is a native German speaker and her four-year-old is already bi-lingual. Time to get get the Duolingo front-and-center again!) Anyway.... Christi and I hadn't seen each other since the end of June, and she invited me up for coffee the next morning. I said I would bring something, she said she loves when I bring baked goods. Now I had to bring something good and original. (Not because she would slam the door

I'm hard pressed to believe that the passage of the most awful of seasons has been a.) NOT AWFUL and b.) so rapid. As far as weather goes, this summer has been absolutely blissful! The windows and French doors have been open nearly the whole time - the use of air conditioners has been minimal. Only a handful of days were akin to breathing through a wet blanket and the sunshine has kept the dopamine up! I only hope that mother nature is equally mild through the cooler months.... Isaac's first day of school is next Wednesday. Which also means I need to get Miss Thang on a school schedule at home - that will NOT be fun. Just one more year before she's on the school bus! I'd like to give a shout out (yeah, that's right!) to the Middleboro Public Library! Who knew that a library was more than just a book-borrowing building?! Everyone? Oh... Ahem... Anywho... Because of Isaac's mandatory summer reading schedule, we went to the library at the start of his vacatio

There has never been a performer like Robin Williams. While visiting with my sister, BIL and their friends vacationing in Mattapoisett Moday night, sis greeted my return from the kitchen with: "Meghan, Robin Williams died." My immediate, profound, exclamation was, "No f*ing way!" In Slate's TV editor, Willa Paskin's article  "Robin William's Engergy Was so Powerful He Didn't Know How Turn It Off." she makes some interesting points: A celebrity's unnatural demise can tarnish their image, at least for a while. Robin Williams was always "on" - unable to not endeavor to elicit laughter from those around him (I'm paraphrasing here). I'll let the pros pontificate the greater depths of this tragic loss. Even though he turned in some spectacular performances of a dark nature ( One Hour Photo , Insomnia ) laughter was obviously his life's driving force. My two favorite guffaw-enducing, quintessential Robin William

Ready Player One,  by Ernest Cline, takes place in 2044 - a depressingly realistic future if humanity remains on it's current trajectory. The unlikely hero is dumpy, clever and sarcastic Wade Watts. He's orphaned and lives in a trailer park with his aunt, who has a Dickens-esque quality to her nastiness. He, like the multitude of the masses in this future, escapes his dreary surroundings each day into The Ontologically Anthropocentric Sensory Immersive Simulation (OASIS). (My favorite utilization of the OASIS is the public school system - the programming does't allow bullying or any other abusive behavior and language, and teachers can take students on virtual field trips, hence increasing the interest in their lessons.) In the OASIS, Wade's avatar is Parzival, and he's a gunter. Gunters are a subculture of "egg hunters" spawned because the mega-wealthy creator of the OASIS, James Donovan Halliday dies. He was an eccentric, borderline antisocial gen

Channeling my inner Mel Gibson for just a moment - he's since been kicked to the curb! As mentioned previously, I am no longer in the employ of an institution which offers currency in exchange for services provided. While I'm thrilled to have cast off the chains of corporate servitude - I have exchanged those for the iron shackles (which, if I had any artistic proclivities, would probably be painted with some retro-new-agey-yogic pattern) of domesticity, which comes with its own challenges. I can no longer be sent to the principal's office - er HR manager's office - because I've shown too much cleavage. But because of the fighting, the screaming, and my personal favorite memory - the "nice hike" - which devolved into sobbing hysterics because Shiloh couldn't grasp "peeing in the woods" and Isaac flailing his arms about whilst screaming "All bugs must die!" - My gray matter is loosening from a tightly wound conduit that transmits

"The Mandala is the Sanskrit word for "sacred circle." For thousands of years the creation of circular, often geometric designs has been part of spiritual practices around the world and almost every culture has revered the power of the circle. Eeastern cultures have used specific mandals for visual medication for many centuries; the Tibetan Buddhist Kalachakra, also know as the Wheel of Time, is probably one of the most famous mandals and symbolically illustrates the entire structure of the universe. Circular forms are found at the prehistoric Stonehenge monument in England and the 13th century labyrinth at the baste of Chartres Cathedral in France. Spiritual seekers have consistently created mandalas to bring forth the sacred through images and have evoked the circle in ritual and art making for the purpose of transcendence, mindfulness and wellness." I began contemplating how things have a tendency to "come full circle" after reading this blog post

How has the passage of time been for everyone? I find myself on an upswing and it's marvelous! Some pretty cool things happened via the Twitterverse. First I followed Jessica Grose (the author of the Gwyneth piece on Slate which prompted the not-so-impossible previous post) then tweeted her the link to the aforementioned post. I said I love her stuff and for the first time I had to humbly disagree with her. She read it and responded that she had to humbly disagree with me. She posited that Gwyneth doesn't put herself out there to be nice but to make money, that's why the stuff on her website is so expensive. (I don't think she does it to be nice either - I think she's just not being malicious, which is different - but I didn't want to bicker) so I replied, "I certainly can't afford anything on it!" Then she favorited my reply. (Happy-happy, joy-joy! Happy-happy, joy-joy!) A few days ago I favorited a tweet of a follower - a talented (and ha

(c) Hillary Weeks I canNOT believe that is the title of this post!! (And like the Princess of Privilege needs defending from me!) On Monday an e-mail from Goop popped into my mailbox that said "A note from GP". This was out-of-the ordinary, as they usually show up every Thursday. I tried following the link on my phone, but an error message popped up. Since I wasn't really that  interested I just let it go. Whilst getting chummy with Insomnia again last night, I scrolled through my Twitter feed and clicked on  this piece from Slate  about Gwyneth Paltrow's divorce - er - conscious uncoupling - from Chris Martin. The news I missed on Monday. Even though the overall tone of Jessica Grose's piece (whom I'm in agreement with 99% of the time!) was sarcastic, and some of what she highlighted from the newsletter struck a cord with me and I had to read it myself. So I scurried downstairs to read the "Note from GP". . The announcement was twofol

Succulicious I said yesterday that I would share a wonderful soup with you, did I not? And I am nothing if not a woman of my word. This is  a fantabulous, hearty, succulicious (Like my made-up word combining succulent and delicious? Webster's is going to knock on my door to add it to the dictionary, I just know it!) bowl of goodness for you.  For the longest time I really had no interest in soup whatsoever. I had nothing against  soup - I just didn't get it. Maybe it was the years of sucking down salt-in-a-red-and-white-labeled can whilst trekking through my adolescent countryside that left my desire lacking. (Funny little sidebar: One of the nights during the aforementioned trek, my professionally trained chef brother said he was going to make a linguine dish for dinner. Being the snooty little picky-palate I was, I declared, "I don't like la-gweenie!" To which he replied, "Really? What are you going to have?" "Chicken noodle soup.&q

My original plan was to have a quippy little St. Patrick's Day Post with a most original title of "Top O' The Morning To You!" That fell by the wayside because my ole friend Insomnia popped in for a visit at about 1:00 a.m. Monday and she kept me company all through the night. When 5:00 a.m. arrived, instead of popping out of bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as anticipated, I staggered out of bed, bleary-eyed and zombie-faced. I trudged to the kitchen and wandered around aimlessly, trying to figure out something for breakfast. Not even a cuppa Joe could get my brain into writing mode, then I remembered I'd completely neglected my German lessons on Sunday and whipped out Ole Reliable (my iPhone) and resumed my lessons with Professor Owl. Yes. I am learning German.  I read about Duolingo , a free language app, at my one-stop source for news - Slate.com. Why, German you ask? Because I'm a rebel. Spanish would be more practical, but who says I can't learn it

There is a bright, shining star amongst the annoyances of late. That star is Isaac. After a week of super-duper-model behavior the following week, he was honored as a Star Student of the Week at his school for this week.  Mummy's so proud! A letter came home that highlighted things that were going to happen each day. Monday was a sharing sack - he brought in artwork he made over the summer and I mentioned his family tree project from Satori in Tucson, and he snagged it immediately. Tuesday was his favorite picture book. When I saw his choice, Cats, Tiny Tigers in Your House , I arched an eyebrow and asked, "Is that really  your favorite picture book?" Apparently it is. Wednesday was a family letter. There were some suggestions (thank the universe - suggestions are the flint to my steel!): A special or funny story about your child; A silly or serious poem; Share some neat things about him they might not know; Write a short story with your child as the main character. Gue

Before I get to my fabulous find - a gripe, if you will. Normally whence I listen to someone kvetch about winter, I just smile and nod. Winter has never bothered me all that much. Sure it's cold and SOME people get sick - but the cold has never bothered me all that much and I NEVER get sick. Well it's official - I HATE winter. More correctly - I hate THIS winter. The frigid cold has been relentless, I actually got the flu and Shiloh is now battling her second bout with the flu in less than two weeks. So I had to leave work early yesterday (and the CEO was visiting) AND I have to stay home today and am taking a vacation day Friday. With all these days NOT going to work, it sounds like a reason for one to do the happy dance... However I detest unscheduled occurrences - and a plethora of winter-flu-child-sick-snow-days have been hurled at me. My rigid psyche has been coping poorly.  Ahhhhhhh.... Thank you! On to the Fabulous Find. This Saturday past, like so many others, wa