Dancing Without Rhythm

CYM tagged me for this word meme, and as I claw and grasp at the edges of the blogless hole I've fallen into lately, I'm going to give this a whirl and hope it's the jumpstart I need.

Harquebusier
When I was a wee little girl, 8th of 9 children, we all had different chores in the house to make things run more smoothly. When we filled heavy duty trash bags full of popcorn for afternoon snacks, someone would be in charge of pouring the kernals, holding the bag, drizzling the butter, yelling that one popped kernal had escaped, elbowing elder sibling to get a better view of the fascinating popping corn, and one to hang on mom's waist complaining that she never gets to pour the kernals. Activities in my house ran like well-oiled machines.

So, naturally, breakfast time and getting out the door to school was also filled with a bunch of little people performing their duties. Since I was homeschooled for Kindergarten and first grade, I didn't leave with the rest of the clan. But waiting for the bus was a big thrill. My job was to stand at the window and announce it's arrival. Which I did, with perfection---each and everytime.
"Hark, the bus is here!" Some mornings felt a little earlier than others, what with serious bedtime fits thrown the night before and books to "sneakily" read under my pillow. So it would easily become "Harquebusier". But the point was always made and my older siblings would scramble from the table leaving trails of oatmeal and unsigned permission slips.

Makimono
I have no idea what this word means. I know a girl named Maki. Is this when she gets sick? I can hardly believe one little Japanese girl has an entire word given to her illness. But I could go for some Angelono though. I think that would have to mean I needed to be alone. Indefinitely.
No waking up, no diapers, no laundry, no meals, no shopping, no cleaning, no crying, no bargaining to get underwear on...oh wait, where was I?

Asyndeton
This is what happens to me most mornings before I am awake. It often happens around mealtime and naptime as well. I wake up to a little 3 and a half year old climbing on me, mingling kisses with breathy whispers of "What are you waiting for mom, get up!" He never waits around for the answer, but I'll tell you, I'm waiting for the 2372 hours of lost sleep since he was born, to catch up with me.

rissole
Definitely the kind of meals we have around here. They start out as well-intentioned casseroles but there's always something missing and they are undoubtedly made backwards. There's nary a casserole made in this house that hasn't been yanked back out of the oven to add the chicken, or the rice, or even the requisite can of cream of chicken soup for pete's sake!

Posted by Angela on Tuesday, October 17, 2006 at 10/17/2006 | Permalink