1. It’s possible the olives thing has gotten out of hand
Do you ever go shopping and then you come home and unload everything and think, huh, I guess maybe possibly I went overboard? Buying 2 kinds of Castelvetranos, 1 garlic-lemon, and 2 kinds of tapenade is a pretty good example of going overboard. Oh well. It’s not like they’ll go bad before I eat them. Especially since I have to fight Short Stuff for the Castelvetranos ever since she discovered them. She likes to eat Jim’s martini olives (the kind he puts in the martini, but before they actually go in, thank you) only he has to pick out the pimento beforehand.
This used to happen all the time when I would do my weekly shopping after black belt class. I’d end up coming home with 7 kinds of juice.
2. J’accuse, Moesie
The thing I like best about this picture is the casual air of menace that claw-full of Barney-fluff conveys. Girlfriend is super-chill and if left to her own devices would do naaaaaaaaaaathink all day. But then that little twerp comes and steals her stuff and messes up her hair and embarrasses her in front of her boyfriend and she has to show him who’s boss. My cats’ sibling dynamic amuses me much more than my childrens’ sibling dynamic.
3. Flora and Ulysses
So, I have started reading to Eliza again, only it’s a different class of books, now. We started with the first Harry Potter, moved on to Neil Gaiman’s Fortunately The Milk, wound our way through two Stitch Head books, and have fetched up at the latest Kate DiCamillo which is 100 percent delightful. Some aspects of it are still a bit above her head, but much of it is going in and being loved. I worry sometimes that I’m cramming my nerdly tendencies and flair for the macabre down her throat, but then she does stuff like obstinately refer to coconuts as “hard hairy wet white crunchers” for MONTHS after the Neil Gaiman book and I figure that I’m probably OK. Also, any kind who has voluntarily read 4 Roald Dahl books in a row on her own can’t be that far removed from my own aesthetic.
I read Flora and Ulysses a while back and thought right away it’d be a good fit for her, because she and her friends at school are now on year three of working on this intricate animal-superhero-pokemon-type game they’ve create. They draw these amazing animal hybrid mutant creatures that get assigned certain powers and that have the ability to evolve into new versions of themselves, and there’s different families… I can’t even follow it all, except to marvel at the comparative meticulousness of her system for keeping them all straight and the care she takes with her drawings, which she stores in a binder she lugs back and forth to school EVERY DAY so they can consult/play/add to their world. The world she’s created is a riff on the kid online games she plays, the comics she reads, and the animated stuff she watches, just like I remember running around with a blue tablecloth tied ’round my neck, being a superhero named Trieste. (It’s a city in Portugal my dad went to on business. I liked the name — very dramatic when yelled at the top of one’s lungs whilst bolting through the backyard.)
4. THE HAIR ON MY NECK IS STANDING STRAIGHT UP
Dude. The last panel in today’s Nimona. Dude. Dude. DUUUUUUUUUUUDE.
Related: I do not have a good picture of it, nor will I provide one right now because it’s too long, but I realized a few weeks ago that my current haircut is the graying-middle-aged-lady version of Nimona’s hair.
5. Why eyebrows?
Lucy has arrived at that awesome stage of toddler drawing where every creature is a big circle with legs directly attached to it. This is a very big, GIANT dinosaw! Wiff BIIIIG eyebrows!
Related question: The children. They have unlined paper. They have crayons. Why, then, do they choose the lined notebook paper and ball-point pens or dying markers to draw with? Mysteries of life.