Welcome Home, Fishers!

After a week long hiatus, thanks to our Netflix queue debacle, the Fishers are back in our lives. We watched the first episode of Season 2 last night and I spent the better part of the day imagining little scenarios that could qualify for Six Feet Under intros.

Out running, pushing the kids in the baby jogger. Heath is taking Stella's blanket and Stella is pulling Heath's hair. I stop to settle down the fuss. As I'm crouched down in front of them, the recycling truck barrels into me.

Andrea Dixon Ropko
1973-2010

Making stir-fry for dinner, I toss veggie peels and ends into the garbage disposal. Oops, the knife falls in. I stick my hand down into the disposal to retrieve it. I don't see that Heath has pushed his kitchen sink handwashing stool over to the counter. Before I can finish screaming no and get my hand out, he flips the switch. I've never taught him to dial 911, and neither can Stella. I bleed to death.

Andrea Dixon Ropko
1973-2010

Sometimes these, hmmm...daydreams?, daymares?, thoughts? happen to people I encounter throughout the day.

Elderly woman with oxygen tank shops at the Fresh Market. As she is exiting the store, her breathing apparatus gets tangled in the cart. The cart tips, her clementines roll out. She shuffles along to retrieve them. Uh-oh. Here comes the Diamond Springs water truck.

Old Lady Whose Rude Utterances Pissed Me Off Today at the Fresh Market
1800-2010

I have to say, I'm enjoying the show even more the second time around. Although when the show originally aired, I liked Brenda. A lot. I would even go so far as to say that I related to her. Well, a part of me did. This time I find her a self-absorbed, annoying drag. Last night when she was all, I'm trying to figure things out, I can't see you, Nate. (I'm paraphrasing here.) Then she's in her living room, dancing around in her yoga lounge wear, smoking pot, listening to music. I thought, Good grief, Nate's a great guy, what is your problem?

I guess that's the thing. I've been that chick, dancing in my living room in yoga lounge wear (probably wasn't yoga lounge wear. Maybe Levi's boyfriend jeans and a tank top), smoking, and listening to music, wondering, What's it all about? Life is so hard. Everybody's so awful. What's their problem? What's my problem?

Not that I don't love her as a character. I do. She's necessary in the mix of folks trying to make sense of their time here.

This week Stella has officially adopted walking as her favorite mode of transportation. Today we went to Michael's to pick out a new house flag. She was thrilled to wander around the store and not ride in a cart. Heath and I were a bit bummed to find not only do they not have any winter-themed flags, they don't have the ole Jolly Roger either. Think I'll have to go online for that one.

We settled for a flag with vibrant pink, green and orange stripes and flowers. Live*Laugh*Love. Much better than a snowman.