.: BASKET RACE CAR DRIVING!

Phenomenal Woman
by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size. But when I start to tell them, they think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms, the span of my hips, the stride of my step, the curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman, that's me. I walk into a room just as cool as you please, and to a man, the fellows stand or fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, a hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, and the flash of my teeth, the swing in my waist, and the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman, that's me.

Men themselves have wondered what they see in me. They try so much but they can't touch my inner mystery. When I try to show them they say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, the sun of my smile, the ride of my breasts, the grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman, that's me.

Now you understand just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing it ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, the bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, the need of my care, 'cause I'm a woman Phenomenally.
Phenomenal Woman, that's me.

Monday, April 23, 2012

BASKET RACE CAR DRIVING!

It's a given that almost every adult on the planet (who's mom does laundry, and let's face it, that's pretty much EVERY woman) has a picture of themselves as a baby cheering and cooing from inside a Laundry Basket Car. What is it about these pictures that just make you smile? Must be a reminder of our childhood. I have many, many memories of goofing around with laundry baskets, including racing my brother down the stairs of our house in Cokeville (I was 8). Luckily, no stitches were needed! I have pics of me at about one in a laundry basket, as well as one of Logan and Silas, and now Kresta.