March 24, 2008

Monday Nofunday

I know I did this same sort of post last Monday, but I think I’m going to make it a Monday ritual. I think it’s a good plan for two reasons: One, my brain doesn’t work very well on Mondays, making it almost impossible to conceive anything more than three-word sentences. And two, I think it’s a great way to remind myself to pay attention to the tiny memories I make everyday (not to mention a great way to electronically store them for all of eternity, or as long as this blog is up and running).

Feel free to fill me in on the tiny details of your weekends. I’d love to hear about them!

Ok, here goes…

1 dozen dyed eggs +
2 Easter baskets +
1 big slab of corn beef +
2 spoonfuls of purple cabbage +
2 hours waiting on the cable guy +
1 WSU basketball game +
4 pieces of pizza +
2 pitchers of Miller Lite +
2 celebratory Washington Apple shots +
2 terrifying hours of No Country for Old Men +
1 rom dram (romantic drama) +
2 hours of napping +
1 Easter service +
1 12:30 brunch reservation +
6 blocks in the bike lane +
1 trip to Von’s +
1 Rueben sandwich +
2 banana pancakes with powdered sugar +
1 fancy, fruity drink at Chloe’s +
1 red bull vodka at Britannia +
2 battling NCAA brackets +
1 slice of crunchy chocolate cake +
1 Taylor Swift CD +
8 new bowls and plates +
2 bags of Cadbury eggs +
2 marshmallow bunnies +
80 degrees of sunshine =

One fantastic Easter weekend


breakfast in canada said...

AWWW!!!! I miss Easter eggs! I miss painting them and filling them with confetti. Easter all but died when my grandma did. We went up to the cemetery on Easter. We sat in the sun for a while and cleaned her stone and gave her some beautiful flowers. She loved Easter. I remember her saving egg shells for weeks before Easter. They’d be all lined up all over her kitchen. I remember fake grass and plastic baskets and the ritual giant chocolate bunny. Our family holidays wilted like a flower with no sun or water when she died. My grandma was our sun and water feeding us love and keeping alive the simple traditions of Easter egg hunts and the best potato salad in the world and Valentine chocolates and old Christmas ornaments, faded and chipped. Now we’re compartmentalized (brother and dad at work, niece—the only kid in our family—with her mom, mom and me each in our rooms watching TV, uncles aunts cousins who knows where, almost forgetting it’s a holiday and we’re a family). Grandma always made sure we remembered and broke down the walls of our everyday lives. I loved her traditions, traditions I’m sure she kept alive for decades. Now they’re gone as she is. But the memory is still alive.

alisha said...

I found your blog through Kale's and have been reading it pretty regularly. I just wanted to tell you that I enjoy it and think you have a great writing style and perspective on things. I like your Monday entries...I might actually like to use that idea sometime, if you dont mind...Keep it up. Have a great Tuesday!

Mr. Kale Iverson said...

word up to that. I have to second that Alisha, I read this blog almost daily and Reese, I think you have an awesome writing style. I check in on your blog pretty often, since you write in this one more than Blitz, and sports are cool, but I like hearing about other peoples lives when they are so cool about how they share them and talk about them. Keep up the kickin ass!

Anonymous said...

How come all my eggs got pushed to the side and yours are on top? I guess you were lying to me about how good I did. Haha.