Archive for November 8th, 2007

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn @ 9:07 am | Permalink  

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My Precious Darlings

Riding home in the car…..

Me: Who are you playing in this playoff game?

14: Bluefield. They’re #1. We’re #16.

Me: That’s harsh. Good luck.

14: We could win! They don’t know anything about us. They didn’t even know Coach Hardman is our head coach.

Princess: Who is the head coach?

14: HARDMAN. I just said COACH HARDMAN IS OUR HEAD COACH. You don’t know ANY of the coaches so shut up.

Princess: I know ALL the coaches.

14: Name them.

Princess: There’s the guy with the beard. The guy who’s bald–

14: I said NAME THEM.

Princess: Beardy. Baldy.

14: Stop the car. I want her out NOW.

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn @ 7:44 am | Permalink  

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• "It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading

• Black Walnut Festival--Spencer, WV

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• Fall Decorating Ideas

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• Anyone have Horses?

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• What's for Dinner?

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• October 2008
• Up north, leaves are peaking; the colors leaking south, bringing summer heat. Trees are like torches. We sleep on porches, sweating, almost forgetting...then awake to flakes. It's trick and treat."