Tuesday, May 8, 2012

View From A Mentalist: May 8, 2012

Well - she took a few photos so why not get them up. She actually took over 80 but the focus was awful on most. Add she spent a lot of photos on photographing entire books like she used to. Anyhoo - let's roll.

I may have mentioned that my daughter is quite enamored by Angry Birds. I don't actually let her play it anymore just because the obsession was fast approaching the level of those insane middle-aged women who get Twilight tattoos. So actually she is now only obsessed with the backstory about Angry Birds that she came up with - and finds the game itself incredibly dull when she does play it. Anyhoo - she decorated a Quaker Oats tube with paint and Angry Birds stickers her mother got for her and called it the Angry Tube. This - according my little girl - is where the Angry Birds actually live. She tells me that in this photo you can see the shovel the Angry Birds use to bury the dead pigs. That's the nefariousness that game teaches her.


This is a photograph of a Clifford book we picked up a while back at a Salvation Army. My daughter took photos of every page but this one made her giggle the most when we looked back through the photos. It makes me laugh because a) that's clearly Mark Hughes in a dress, and b) that basket apparently has at least one thousand cookies inside it. Let's hope Mark Hughes doesn't have diabetes.


This is the inside of a bird feeder that was made out of a gourd. I asked my daughter what those lumps are and she said they are it's bellybuttons. I can't be bothered to count them but I'd say that makes about thirty bellybuttons.


This is a picture of one of the cheap trinkets that my daughter picked up at a garage sale last weekend. We picked up an old empty huge pretzel tub (to keep a Monarch butterfly in once we get a net) and a bag full of Furby's. Yes you read that right. The old lady there had three tote-buckets - the really big ones - filled with 101 Dalmatian McDonalds toys from Happy Meals, and various Furby things. My daughter asked, "hey can I get some of these owls Daddy!?" and I figured why not. She also picked up a few of these things but mostly ignored them and played Furby enthusiastically like it's 1998 all over again. She has since repeatedly been arranging them on windows. Thankfully no Furby infestations have attacked the house and landed on the Magic eye rock yet.


My daughter made this. She mad six different ones. She's been telling me recently that this was made especially for me - and that this particular fish is me, and that the one you can't see is her mother. Then today her grandparents visited on the way back through from their Winter sojourn and she told them she made this for them and that this fish is Grandma. When I mentioned to her that I thought that was me she told me - with annoyance - that there is no way I look as good as this fish.


It's always weird to me that I live in this house and it's really nice - but that I don't notice how manky and odd the house is until I look at my daughter's photos of it. The stairs are just dull, boring stairs. But in this photo they look weirdly steep. Add the strip up the high-wall on the right where the old paint on the wooden edge looks awful - like a layer of gross yellowing food around the edge of a tooth that desperately needs flossing. Thankfully though my daughter doesn't see this photograph that way - but rather states that what you can see are, "everyone's bum cheeks getting lower."


Fin.

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