English translation: word of honor. Colloquial meaning: strapless dress. Strapless gown = word of honor. This is exactly the thing I love about languages. Thing 1 informed me of this in preparation for her prom, as she was easing herself into her very own, with origami pleating at the bodice. Is the word of honor that it is going to stay up? Or that the woman wearing the gown will behave appropriately? And who came up with this meaning in the first place?
Thing 1’s sheath lived up to its name I am happy to say, on all accounts.
I have not lived up to my own word of honor vis a vis my New Year’s Resolutions. Almost any of them. I have not blogged since May 18, thereby failing to honor my duty to blog once a week. Nor have I stitched a stitch.
Excuses are as follows:
* Took and successfully passed practical Spanish driving test. I was the only successful driver out of four. I went last, right before lunch time, which boded well. The man before me, possibly Rumanian, chain-smoked an entire pack before the endeavor. He stalled the car numerous times, which the instructor who was making notes on a form in the seat beside me, ignored. However, when he chose a parking spot three times too small for the car and attempted repeatedly to enter it, she finally growled at him to get out and told me to drive. I already have the plastic card in my wallet. The Lord was so good to me! And yes, this officially makes me a better driver than Mr. Understanding who has already received his first speeding ticket.
* Spent a weekend in Rome with Mr. Understanding. Here I must confess a huge, gaping hole in my education. Somehow, I missed learning large chunks of history. English speakers going to Roma should hook up with Angel Tours (click on name) for the most knowledgeable, amusing guides ever. Who knew that St. Peter’s Basilica was made with a lot of marble (?) salvage/raped from the Colosseum? Eleven obelisks? Why? And the vestal virgins? Although I’d heard of them before in a song, I had no clue about their lives (fascinating – celibate power brokers and flame keepers until the age of about 40 when they were released from duty). More importantly, Mr. Understanding and I shared some divine quality time and I bought some shoes on the Via Condotti.
* Prom. My daughter looked beautiful but she nearly gave me a heart attack getting her ready. A snippet from emails with Mood Ring Momma (Thing 1’s godmother):
Me: “Getting Miss Molasses ready for the big day nearly killed me. When she gets married, I am going to have to take control or the wedding will start an hour late because she won’t know where the church is or have the pastor’s number.”
MRM: “For her wedding, I am going to give you a sedative and a cocktail, lock you in a separate room, and hold a cattle prod to her in your stead.”
I am taking Mood Ring up on her word (of honor).
* Writing Class. Per my palabra de honor, I pledged to submit one article. This I had to write first. And in order to write it, I felt I needed some instruction. The article is finished, as is the course, but I have yet to send it out. That’s okay, though, since I have until December 31 to tick off that box.
* Planning College Tour for Thing 1. Ugh.
* Continued Home Repairs. Yesterday, my house smelled like a vat of Flarp had well, flarped. Frantically, Mr. Understanding and I searched for the source. Dead animal? Nope. Unflushed toilet? Nope. But we did notice that all the toilets had the water sucked out of them. A call to Mrs. Nato provided the explanation: workers were mucking about in the sewers of our street. This would happen twice a year. “Light some candles,” she said.
* Reading to escape reality. Latest read, ironically enough: “Strapless” by Deborah Davis. If you love John Singer Sargent, the art world in Paris of the late 19th century, and a good read, you will enjoy this book immensely. Word up.
Bea Long and her family arrive Friday from Shanghai for a Long visit. We are, Understandably, EXCITED. Longing for familiar faces, we are ready to kickstart summer. The weather, unfortunately, is turning to crap and the tickets to the bull fight are sold out, but I think we can find some fun.