Goddamn: In Siberia, Spaceships Fall From The Sky.

The cover to Jonas Bendiksen's book, Satellites. Can this be my back yard? Please?

via Angela Elliott.

Walking With Hazel: Lip-gloss, Pancakes, Parrots and Chumps.

See, the first thing we did on Saturday was get groceries, but we had to stop before we went into the store because Safeway has these huge blocks of stone that are just sitting out on their sidewalk, and Dad has to say that he has no idea what they're there for, but apparently it was very important that we pile gravel on top of them. Which we did. Then we went to the First grocery store (Sunnyside), where, among other things, we got flour (although we probably left more of it on the floor than in the bag we were s'posed to scoop it into) and tested out lip-gloss. Just the smell, mind you, because that's what's important, if you ask the Little Miss. Of course, Dad's a meanie, because he wouldn't buy any lip-gloss for Hazel, but, y'know, he's not really all that torn up about it.

Then we went to the Second store (Safeway) where Hazel picked out watermelon and cheese bread. Because that's all Safeway's good for, we guess.

Then we went to the library. We counted the bricks in the wall (twenty-seven!) and felt them with our hands and decided that they felt rough, and then we got books and then Hazel hid under a library cart for about five minutes before Dad actually found her.

Then we went and got slurpees, or at least one purple slurpee, but the straw was too long and poked the Little Miss in the eye, so dad cut it in half and it fit perfectly. 

Important breakthrough: the Little Miss now knows all the words to 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' and will sing them for you if you ask, but she still has trouble with 'Rock-A-Bye Baby'; also of importance is the fact that the Little Miss prefers 'girl songs' to be played on the radio when driving in the car, but since Dad's driving, he figures he's allowed to play all the hip-hop or metal that he wants, as long as he keeps it quiet so that "everyone can hear the birds outside the window." 

When we got home, Hazel stood inthe doorway and pretended to be a witch and wouldn't let Dad in the house, so Dad stood outside with the groceries and cried. Then he went around to the front of the house and let himself in through the front door (cuz, y'know, we parked in the back...), and snuck up on Hazel and actually scared her for real, but everything was made okay through the liberal application of cheese buns.

Then we did laundry. Then Hazel noticed the hole in Dad's sock, and pretending that the big toe poking out was talking to her. Then we had the last of the chocolate bunny that our friend Stepha had brought for Hazel ALL THE WAY FROM GERMANY (HI STEPHA! THANKS FOR VISITING US!). Then we had dinner and then watched some baby shows and some hockey at the same time and Dad kept saying that "the NHL is totally rigged", and that "Vancouver is a buncha chumps", and then it was time for bed.

When we woke up we had pancakes, of course, because it's Sunday, and Hazel helped portion the flour and the sugar and crack the eggs, and then she even flipped TWO WHOLE PANCAKES, and then we had a nice treat: mom came over to help clear out all the bottles downstairs, which turned out to be about twelve garbage bags full or so, although we ended up giving two of them to some kids that were collecting bottles for their soccer team even though they looked kinda shifty.

Just kidding: Dad says that about ALL kids.

Then it was time to get dressed, but while Dad was helping Hazel put her clothes on, the Little Miss decided that she wanted to be a parrot, so she tried to climb up onto Dad's shoulder and instead ended up knocking him flat onto his back, which she thought was the funniest thing ever, so she decided to KEEP jumping onto Dad's shoulder and knocking him backwards, and we're not gonna talk about how sometimes Dad just wants to send Hazel off to work in a sweatshop, nah, just kidding, why in the world would anyone say that about their child? Honestly! People these days, y'know?

Later we went to Canadian Tire so that Dad could get a trowel for the compost (which has officially been dubbed 'gross' by the Little Miss) and rubber boots for stompin' around in, but then we also had to get boots for Hazel, just to be fair, and we found these ones that were kinda like pink camouflage and were way too big but we figured she'd grow into them, and then we found a baseball and glove for Hazel that Dad wishes weren't so pink, but that's what Hazel wanted, so what can you do? 

Then we went to Dad's work and showed off our new boots and got a cookie and played at the park, and there were two girls there who said they were sisters but lived in different houses, and Hazel climbed up the slide by herself and went down the slide by herself, and Dad was relieved because he was worried that he'd ALWAYS have to go down the slide with her, which wasn't that much of a problem except for the fact that his butt's getting too big for the slide.

Then it was time to come home, but because it was so nice out, we decided that we would try out Hazel's new bike, which we both decided was a very fine thing indeed, and then we went for a short walk up and down the block (because we're out of practice, y'see...), and we made sure to leave sticks out on the sidewalk for all the cats and dogs to chew on, because that's what they do. Then it was more dinner, then we read a book about the moon, and now it's time for bed.

And, yes, Vancouver is a buncha chumps. The hockey team, that is.

Walking WIth Hazel: Puddle-Splashing Etiquette

"You have to splash until all the water is gone, and pink is for girls, and purple is for boys, and brown is for boys, and the puddles are shiny! They sparkle, which means that they are for girls, not for boys, because girls need magic!"

"Girls need magic?"

"Uh-huh."

"What do boys need, then?"

"Exercise."

You heard it here first.