Life at the Blue Nymph

An experience in spaying ..

2012-01-10T09:42:00.000-05:00

Life With Dogs:

Our bulldogs Layla and Cupcake were spayed yesterday.

Layla, on happier days

As usual, Layla complained the ENTIRE way to the vet. "I don't like car rides!" "Cupcake is the one in heat, why am I being punished too??" "The Jeep is too cold!" "I want to go home!" "This isn't fair!!" and so on. She politely threw up on the ride up to Christiansburg (I only know this from seeing the crate later on).

Foster, our Mastiff, spent the day wandering around looking for them. If you've never seen a curious Mastiff it is quite a site. Demanding, repeatedly, to check each side of the back door, despite the cold temperatures and rain. Finally he went to sleep on the couch - his worry wore him out.

As you can see, the stress took a toll. It is so hard being so caring.

We were called to pick them up in Christiansburg yesterday rather than back in Salem this morning because of them being bulldogs (more chances of problems). So, the kids and I met Mom and Barry (aka Grandma & Grandpa) up there. Mom watched the kids while Barry helped me load the crates and dogs back up for the ride home.

When they brought out Cupcake they were carrying her. Apparently she thought she couldn't walk. She also thought she couldn't walk the other night here at home when she had to wear underwear. Apparently her back legs only work under the best of circumstances, in all other cases, she MUST be carried.

It is also hard being a little princess. This is her "perch" on the couch.

Layla, once we got back to Salem & despite the anesthesia, once again began letting us know how much she resented the general mistreatment she was experiencing. "That was awful!" "When will we be home??" "Does Daddy know you let them do this to me?" "I want to go home!"
We EVENTUALLY (so Layla said) made it back home. Justin took off a minute or two early so that he could almost meet us there. You can tell he was worried sick. Layla was the first to be taken out of the car, per her demands and since Cupcake still didn't think her legs worked anyway.

I walked her into the front yard while Justin took her crate inside. Layla didn't need to pee so we walked to the front porch. Now, there is A step. Just a little step up. We weren't sure if she could do this though given the circumstances. She put her front paws on the porch and then hesitated. ... And then she sat down on the front walk. .... And then she rolled over onto her side .... into the lavender bush. ... Where she stayed until, on her side, until Justin picked her up and carried her into her crate.
She spent the rest of the evening pretty much sound asleep, though every now and then she would let us know she was still alive by giving us a gripe or two about her mistreatment. Even a sedated bulldog can still complain, just groggily.

Cupcake we carried, because you know her legs don't work, inside and into her crate. It is amazing how bulldogs can demand, and get, the literal Royal Treatment.
She did fine the rest of the evening, though she did get up to let us know she needed to go out a couple of times. OF COURSE, she was carried to and from. Her butt and paws wiped (not at the same time), before being put back into her crate. Mountain View Humane Society had given both girls a soft towel for their crates for the trip home, just in case. Apparently our gals convinced even them they were Royals.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Layla threw up again later when her pain pill finally hit her stomach (thankfully late enough afterwards that she didn't throw it up). She's been sick again this morning, but, being Royalty she DOES have a sensitive stomach.

Cupcake decided she really liked her new towel in her crate. She smooshed it up against the crate door. Then, this morning, she began nibbling on the tag. I called to her and she quickly looked up and around, certain that it wasn't her who was being scolded. She, of course, hadn't been doing anything. ... right ...

Foster on the other hand has had the hardest time adjusting. He's been very upset that the girls are being carried and he isn't. After-all, even though he weighs a good 150lbs now he still is certain that he is no more than the size of a bulldog. And if they can be carried then he most certainly should be as well. He's gone to the back door several times, out onto the frozen porch, only to look back at me with eyes that say "Well, are you going to carry me down these steps or not?" ... not.
So, since he's had to endure such stress and trauma, and since he's not one to be out-done by any other dog, he's decided his stomach is now upset too. He got given a gas pill and some rice in his food, which he didn't eat. He's now back on the couch. It is all that darn stress ...

Halloween Fun

2011-11-01T13:30:00.000-04:00

Our Halloween 2011 pumpkins. If you haven't already figured it out, they're characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas. L-R: Zero (the dog), Jack Skellington, and Oogey Boogey. Justin and the kids did these and I have to say, this is one of my favorite years. Every year we carve several pumpkins. We have people who remember that ours tend to be elaborate and visit just to see what we've carved. This year was no exception.

Halloween on our street is a big deal. Every year we get over 200 kids. Most of the houses decorate for Halloween, and there are simply kids galore. It is such a busy event that instead of shutting the door between kids, we rearrange the front porch furniture and hang out there. We adults get dressed up as well, of course. This year I was a witch, Justin was a priest, Shannon was a scary hooded guy, and Tristan was a skeleton. Justin's brother Matt came over and we dressed him up as a zombie, make up and all. (Really, I think I should start a Halloween Make-up business!!)

Along with the three pumpkins we had an "eyeball tree," the door to the house decorated with lights & usually open, the inside of the house decorated, and pumpkin & skull candles lit on the front porch. Oh yes, there was the scary music that played as well, of course. We always invite friends and family over for a Halloween party on Halloween, and so, as usual, we had a couple of kids who thought that our house was set-up as a Haunted House given the decor and the people coming and going.

While the guys (and Justin's Mom & sister) took the kids trick-or-treating I assumed my role to hand out candy. I had a goblet that I was drinking from, and took delight in playing up the role. Most of the kids were very well behaved this year. A couple of kids I saw darting across the road, not a wise idea on our road, and darting through people's yards, ignoring any landscaping that was there. When they got to our house I was in full witchy mode. I slowly took a sip from skeleton goblet, setting it down on the edge of my chair. I turned my gaze (with my heavily made-up eyes) to them just as slowly and then fixed my gaze on them. As I handed them their candy I had my voice eerily-pitched and scolded them gently, creepy, and with my gaze not leaving their eyes for darting into the road and for running through yards. I warned them that they could get hurt. I got two nervously sincere "yes ma'am"s from them. I think the point was made.

So, a little after eight we got the kids in bed and took the party inside. I left the lights outside on and even went back and relit the pumpkins when I realized kids were still coming by. This is where it starts to get fun.

Normally I don't care so much for older kids, and I will readily refuse candy to those who don't dress up. Also, we always put the dogs up in the crates during Halloween. With the door being open so much it would be easy for them to get out. Also, and our main reason, Halloween can be a scary time to be a dog. People in scary costumes make it hard to tell friend from foe and can scare a dog. Any dog with an instinct to protect could easily assume there was cause to. So, to be safe, our dogs stay up. However, once we shut the door we let the dogs loose.

Older kids kept coming by, knocking on the door. The dogs would go nuts. And, though all dogs' barks are impressive and can be scary, Foster does have a .. well .. massive Mastiff bark.

At first I would try to block the dogs as I went to the door, but with one group Layla, our 1 year old Bulldog, slipped by me and out onto the porch. I shut the door behind me and went to get her. She wasn't scared, she was curious as usual and simply walked around the kids. No growling, nothing. The kids were older middle-school or high-school age kids (hard to tell), and one boy simply FREAKED OUT. It was hysterical. He started jumping back when he realized she was a bulldog. "She's a bulldog" he yelled, "those things will kill you!!!"

I couldn't resist.

"Oh, no" I replied calmly and reassuringly, "bulldogs won't kill you. Mastiffs will kill you." And with that I opened the door, shoved Layla in, and let Foster take a step or two out. "See?" I said.

The kid tripped over himself running back to the sidewalk, while his friends, who initially jumped back as well, roared with laughter.
Foster never growled, never showed any aggression, just took a couple curious steps through the doorway, with me holding his collar.

BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

To the doctor we go again..

2011-10-20T11:55:00.000-04:00

First off, the reason that they're haven't been any blogs posted from me in a while: blogspot hates me. It's as simple as that. Truly. It has nothing to do with the strange fact that my son is humming the JAWS theme (though he's never seen the movie) in his room as I try to focus and type. It has nothing to do with me going crazy at all, no it doesn't and I don't like your implications. Blogspot simply hates me. I type out a great blog, I go to hit publish, the whole thing freezes up and then the computer starts giggling this insane giggle that only Stephen King could dream up, and it gets up and runs away. And, I'm left sitting there all innocent without a blog post anymore. So, there. Now you know. I blog now at great risk to my own health and warfare (no, not a typo). You're welcome. I love you.

So, do you remember Shannon's 5 Year Doctor check up visit? No? Why not? I kinda do! Ok, I'll forgive you. You can click on that snazzy link and it'll take you to the blog post about it.

Tristan had his 5 Year Doctor check up visit yesterday. Here is how my day went:

Wake up and decide this isn't one of my days. And, since I have nowhere to be, I'm allowed to have a lazy bummy day, so I don't take a shower.

Remember at 11am that we have an appt at noon. Tristan, who has been congested for a few days (thank you Allergy Gods) has been given cough/cold syrup.

Remember that 2 years ago, at Shannon's 5 year check up, he barfed EVERYWHERE. Try not to mention that memory to the kids.

Put on a nicer shirt and attempt to do something with my hair. Ok - so here's a fun tidbit for you: a lot of people think that having dreads means you completely neglect your hair. Like you forget it's there all together. This couldn't be further from the truth, at least for me. And, if you haven't been to take your kids to the doctor's lately, you are missing out on the well-known, absolute fact that you MUST look presentable because, no matter how sick your child is or isn't, they WILL judge you. It's a bunch of women ... DUH!

My dreads and I argue some, but they finally agree to go up in some form of a bun. The Hokie colored ones though decide they're going to really stand out in weird ways today. Fine. Just fine.

Get kids into the car. Attempt to get self into the car. Thanks to a long upper-body and short arms, I only have 3 fingers' width of room between the top of my head and the top of the car when my hair is down. If my hair is up, I wind up driving all GANGSTA style, slung off to the side trying to fit in the car. -- How in the world did women with beehives EVER drive anywhere???? I need a carriage and someone to drive me around.

Get there early, wait till ...shortly after 12 to be seen - go figure.

They do urine sample & finger prick blood test first. Tristan is fine. He doesn't get upset till he feels (I'm guessing) that first heartbeat in his finger. (You know what I'm talking about) - At that point he has an upset, eyes welling "uh-oh" reaction.

Nurse calls us back into the room so we don't have to wait. She takes Tristan off to do the eye & hearing exam.

She returns with Tristan who is COVERED in vomit. I mean, it was even on the back of his pants. Since I didn't see it happen, all I can imagine is the Excorsist. Nurse seems stunned and unsure of what to do. She hands me a gown and I work on stripping him down.

Meantime, I call my mother to please run by my house, grab him a change of clothes and GET HERE NOW!

He announces he needs to go to the bathroom. While on toilet he starts puking again, then it shoots out the other end. (Sorry - TMI, I know). I try to clean up as best I can.

Get him cleaned up, washed off, and etc. Get gown back on. He is clammy and his face is literally green.

Nurse keeps trying to say he has a stomach bug. I keep trying to tell her that his older brother had a very similar reaction and that their father doesn't do very well at the sight of blood either.

I remind Beazley of Justin's fainting spell during a very similar check-up when I get the chance.

Mom arrives. All seems ok. Then Shannon announces HE has to go to the bathroom, and it's obvious HE is starting to cry.

Beazley looks at me, wide-eyed, in a "WTH?" wonder.

I go to the bathroom with Shannon. Have to get him to admit to being upset and crying. He says that he doesn't like getting shots. I remind him that HE isn't getting any shots today. He says he doesn't like Tristan getting shots. I leave him to finish.

While he's still in the bathroom we agree that my mother will go ahead and leave, taking Shannon with her. This is good because by the time Shannon gets back he pretty much hollers that he wants to leave NOW. - they leave.

Now there is the usual examination part. I win the "WORST MOTHER EVER" award for not only all that has happened but also because Tristan is wearing underwear that is oddly stained all over (of course, right?), and socks that aren't of equal shades of whiteness - one is bright white the other is slightly pink.

Tristan gets his 3 shots. At doctor's "orders" we lay him down for it and keep him down. Obviously, he cries about the shots *mega duh*

After a good long while I'm able to get him dressed. He keeps trying to kinda hyperventilate.

Tristan has been known to, when he's VERY upset, quit breathing kinda, go blue, and pass out. So ... this is my current fear.

We walk out to the car, I think the rain and cool air will do him good but he seems to be getting weaker. I finally wind up carrying him to the car.

I get him in the car. I attempt to get myself into the car. Remember what I said above about the dreads. It's like a friggin' cartoon episode, me trying to get into the car with my big hair and little arms. And it's raining.

We're driving down Main St., towards my mother's house, in the rain, and I glance to the back seat. Tristan is slumped over. I try to not go into full panic mode.

Turns out he was just asleep. Get all of us home. Everyone goes down for naps. I have two stories due. Two I, of course, hadn't written yet. I send my editor a letter asking just how late I can get them in. My nerves are shot.

Who the hell hid my valium today?

Why is my hair so big?

How is it fair that they inherit this reaction from Justin but I end up being the one to get to deal with puke and nurses who seem to be amazed that kids may puke at the doctors' office and capable of offering little other than a gown, a trash bag (at my request, they didn't think of that on their own) for his puke covered clothes, and then they run around spraying things with Febreeze???

Tristan sleeps for a while, or at least rests for a long while. This is good. No more vomiting, no passing out.

I get my articles written.

I find my valium.

I forget about my big hair since the ceilings here are even taller.

I make a good healthy, nourishing dinner. Tristan has a fit because he'd rather have a sandwich. We convince him to break up pretzels in the soup/pasta dinner. No (adult) tempers are lost.

I debate having one more kid just to make sure that Justin has to take said prospective kid to their 5 year check up.

Of course, Murphy's Law, that prospective kid would be fine.

I hate that prospective kid. Damn him/her.

I make Justin stay on bulldog butt wiping duty. This doesn't make me feel much better, but it's better than nothing.

The one bulldog who wasn't given gas-x pills proceeds to sit there, butt near my face, and fart all night.

Damn Murphy's Law.

Later I ponder if I can squeeze the bulldogs and make them fart in Justin's face. It would make a nice weapon and I feel like he deserves some suffering.

Cartoon-esque revenge theories are being hatched in my mind. I also kinda want to bitch-slap the nurses. Or at least do a SNL "REALLY?!?!?" clip about them. I mean, REALLY!?!?!?!, you're shocked and unprepared when kids vomit at the doctor's office?!!?!? REALLY!?!?!??! Who could ever imagine and forsee such events!!! REALLY!?!?!?

So .... now you know why we try to avoid trips to the doctor's office as much as try to avoid ... umm .. the plague?

Good Morning

2011-09-04T09:44:00.003-04:00

These photos were taken with my cell phone, thereby a little fuzzy. But I find when I first wake up in the morning, life is a little fuzzy ... just like the photos. Here is a quick look at some of the beings I wake up to in the morning.

Good Morning from Foster. Our 17 month old, at least 140 pound, English Mastiff. He likes to cuddle. He isn't allowed on the bed. Luckily for him, his back legs are on the floor. Our bed is queen size and he, as you can see, can reach nearly fully across it. With his hind legs still on the floor.

See how tired he is? He has sleepy-goop still in his eye. The poor thing. It's tough being a Mastiff who thinks he's a carry-along 2lb dog. In case you're wondering what his head is resting on ... that's Justin's leg under the blanket.

Then there is Layla, our little 9 month old English Bulldog. For many months now, under our bed has been her refuge. When it is hot out, she hides under the bed. When Foster is chasing her after they've been playing, she runs into our room and does an impressive dive & slide under the bed, where he can't reach her. When Foster greets us in the morning though .. well, she just isn't as tall and can't command the attention. So .. under the bed she goes.
The sound of her crawling under the bed, her ID tag clanking against the wooden floor and her legs attempting to propel her forward make it sound like she is swimming. So, that's what we call it. We'll look at each other and say "Oh, Layla's gone swimming again." "There Layla goes, swimming under the bed." It isn't a graceful performance out of her to say the least.
However, our little pup is growing as little bullies do. Normally she'd swim under the bed, pop up on my side (closest to the wall) and paw for attention. Now ... poor Layla, she's a bigger bully.

......

Layla gets a little stuck under the bed during her morning swim. .... It probably doesn't help that she does this swim after she's eaten her breakfast, when her belly is nice and full. Apparently she never bothered to read the memo about not swimming after you eat.

As you can tell here, Foster is just SHOCKED that Layla is stuck, once again, under the bed. He's simply shocked.
Actually, he's likely more concerned and offended. When Layla gets stuck she doesn't give up on her swim. She reaches her paws out, hoping to make it through. Which usually ends up with her pulling the nearby plug out of the wall. That turns off the tv (which isn't on in the morning anyway), the clock (which is on and will have to be reset, but which Foster doesn't care about), and ... worst of all, the fans. THIS is VERY offensive to Foster. One of the perks of being able to lay across the bed like he does is, aside from the morning cuddle, the breeze from both of the fans.
So ... in this photo Foster is shocked that Layla is stuck ... again. And concerned that this will wind up in his breeze being disrupted. Which just completely ruins the beauty of morning.

Here's wishing you all a happy holiday weekend. However you spend it. However you wake up, or whomever/whatever you wake up to.

Quit yer bitching, be prepared, & acknowledge Mother Nature

2011-08-28T11:02:00.004-04:00

Tis that time of year again: Hurricane Season. Just like you can count on stores to start Christmas displays practically at the same time as they put out Halloween displays, you can count on media to make certain that the impending hurricane will be an end of the world scenario.

Now, before I get too far into this post let me say that I feel for those who suffer. I don't want anyone to lose their lives, especially those who are at the mercy of others' (children, elderly, disabled, sick, etc) to care for them. I don't want to see animals suffering either. So .. there you go, I am not the most evil monster out there.

But, let's get back to the topic. Check out this link (for some reason it's not letting me embed it, sorry): http://youtu.be/75f-YUntYRI. It's footage from Virginia Beach area. A news reporter is doing his thing with people driving around behind him, around him, and then lots more people running by. One guy even drops his shorts and flashes the camera as he's doing this. It is funny. It is also, more reason why I have little sympathy.

Let's make it as clear as we can, ok? If you live at, or below, sea level, then you live in an area where you're likely to get flooded out. If you live near the beach, especially when there is a GOOD history of annual hurricanes you are, at some point, going to likely experience one.

If you live in the mountains, where it snows, guess what ... there is a chance that at some point during the Winter you might get snowed in. Or there might be lots of snow and ice.

Live on or near a fault line?? Guess what you can expect. That's right, earthquakes. Living out in the Midwest, in an area known as 'Tornado Valley'??? Hmmm ... can we figure out what you might see one day?

Have some friggin' respect for Mother Nature folks. Pay attention to where you live. Build accordingly, if you're going to build. That's one of the things I find a little laughable about the new "passivhaus" movement (which I can't say without a bad Arnold-esque accent). For as long as there have been humans around, until very recently, societies built their homes according to where they lived and what that area was like. It's the enormous "DUH!!" ~ to which I can't add much more.

Also, wherever you chose to live, be prepared for what very well may happen. I mean, these aren't exactly the biggest surprises in the world now are they?? Again, this is one reason why homes used to be built with exterior shutters that could actually shut (you know, cover the window) and be locked. Not little bitty decorative ones screwed on either side of the window as they are now.

Know what you're going to do, just in case. Quit relying on others to take care of you and make everything as happy-perfect-fairytale as you think it should be.

And .... if you're going to go out in bad weather. If you're going to go take your boat out in the water during a hurricane. Or if you think it is wise to go out in snowstorms, tornadoes, and etc. Well, you're likely an idiot and I won't be that sad when you die or get hurt. It's Darwinism in action.

Stella Updates

2011-07-23T15:24:00.003-04:00

Stella today

Stella before?? This is a photo I found in a book on VW buses. The interior is identical to Stella's, though obviously the color is different. I can't tell if she faded a LOT or if she was just originally 'Guinea blue' rather than 'Medium Blue' (as is listed in the book as the blue color option for campers and is in the photo above). Today she looks more Guinea than Medium though, and I'm guessing it's unlikely that she faded THAT much.

She's still down at the shop though. Apparently she won't pass inspection with the current, cracked windshield. Whoever last replaced the windshield didn't put it in correctly, or even in all the way it seems, and it cracked and for some reason that I simply can not begin to understand, they left it like that. So ... a new windshield is on order out of Norfolk. It should be here by the middle of next week, and hopefully we can have her home by then. She also needed new rear brake lights, but those have already been put in.

I've also been on the hunt for other parts she needs that are no longer available on the market. A new dash cluster since the odometer and fuel gauge don't work (kinda something that we really need working!) is the main thing. I found a guy down in Georgia, or rather he found me. He has an '82 Vanagon, non-camper, that he's selling off as parts. I have to admit to being nervous about dealing with things online that I can't physically see, but I also don't see where I have much of an alternative. I've asked him to send me photos of parts (he also has a grill which she needs, along with other items). He doesn't have a digital camera so he said he'll pick up a disposable one, take the photos and mail them to me. Something about this makes me feel guilty, but I suppose I'll let him do it.

We've also ordered our own copy of the 'Idiot Book' (as it is lovingly called). We were able to find a newer edition, used (!! yay !!) for a really good deal thanks to Amazon.com.

And, finally, we ordered a new rug for her. The folks we bought her from had put in an oriental-esque throw rug which looked really cool. I wouldn't have thought to do that I don't think. Then I happened to stumble across a crocheted rag-rug that was made using upcycled tie-dye sheets. Lots of yellows, pale blues, pinks and more. I love it. I can't wait to see it in there.

Meet Stella

2011-07-20T20:09:00.005-04:00

This is Stella. Stella Blue. Yes, I know the name might be a little cliche, but she really insisted that it was her name. So, Stella she is.

Stella is a 1982 Volkswagen Vanagon Westfalia. She has an air cooled engine and is a full camper.

Those who've known me for a significant amount of time will know of my longing for a Westy. That longing has been passed down to my sons, particularly Shannon. It was because of Shannon that we got Stella.

We were driving home from my mother's house when Shannon announced "I told Grandma that they could have our tent out of the attic." "And where are we going to sleep?" asked Justin. "In the Westfalia" replied Shannon with the epitome of "duh" Valley-Girl in his tone. We explained that we didn't have one and weren't planning on seriously looking for one until the end of next year. We would have to stick with the tents for a while longer.

The next day I posted on Facebook about what Shannon had said. I mentioned that DogLimo2 (a Westy belonging to friends and for sale locally) might have to stay local after all. Instantly another friend replied "take mine!". They had bought it because it was a good deal and with intentions (dreams?) of camping and etc. Life, as it turns out, had different plans and so it wasn't a good fit for them. I looked at photos they had of her online and instantly I was hooked.

Our friends even drove her up here from their home in North Carolina. I wasn't sure what time they were leaving, but I knew that they could get here between 6 & 8am. I woke up at 3:45am. Fate smiles. Turns out that is what time they hit the road to come here.

One of the difficult things for me in my Westy quest was that I personally am not so wild about a lot of the color schemes. Those oranges, yellows, and greens, along with the plaids in the same shades just ..... well ..... they are NOT for me.

Stella on the other hand is, obviously, blue. Look at the name of our home. Obviously we like that color. The majority of the rooms in our house are painted blue. Fittingly enough, the day we physically got Stella, Justin & I were both wearing blue shirts. (I promise, it wasn't intended)
Her interior is a mix of the cream & brown on the camper parts, typical of that time. The seats are blue, brown, and white striped. She has a nice brown carpet inside.

Needless to say, I am in love. The kids are in love. Justin is, at minimum, content and happy. He hasn't caught the VW BUG yet (pardon the pun), but he will. Hopefully. If not, the kids and I outnumber him.

Right now Stella is down at Salem Imports. She needs more work done to her than we thought, which is upsetting. Mainly because it will take me some time to earn the money to pay for it. But that is life. In the end, she will be better for it. We all will.

In the meantime, I've been sent home with the Compleat Idiot's Guide to maintaining your Volkswagen by John Muir. I love the book already and am determined to become mechanically inclined. I'll also be purchasing the book as soon as possible. I found used copies available online at Amazon for great prices. (Always shop used first!)

It's not the exact start I was picturing, but when is life really like that? Though I had been hoping for at least a few "WHEEE!!" months before something big hit, I'll be happy for the time spent to 1) EARN the money for the repairs and 2) the time to educate myself more about the world I have just entered. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise?

Wish me luck.

PS ~ I was feeling guilty for not getting DogLimo2. When I was down at the shop I didn't see it. I asked Sandra where it was and she told me it sold. We both expressed feelings of guilt: me for buying something else and her for selling it. But again, fate smiles. They sold it at the same time we bought Stella. To people from North Carolina.
Today I had an epiphany about DogLimo2 (when I was questioning my sanity of getting Stella v. DogLimo2). For me, DogLimo2 is like that really great guy who likes you and you really, really wish you liked him to because you know how great you two could be together. How he would be so good to you. But the fact is, no matter how much you like him as a friend, love him as a friend, your feelings don't go beyond that. No matter how much your brain tells you they should, logically.
That is DogLimo2 for me. I believe Stella was the one calling me. I know she was. And I think DogLimo2 found who was calling him. (I'm deciding the gender here, though the new owners may feel differently). Fate Smiles.

A lesson from Pom

2011-06-22T20:07:00.004-04:00

Usually when I write about Pom on here I am referring to my great-grandmother, whose house we now live in, Pom Taney. It so happens though that both my maternal great-grandmothers were given the moniker 'Pom' by their grandchildren. Today's lesson comes from Pom Redfield.

This is Pom Redfield. I don't know the year the photo was taken. I doubt it is as old as the letter I am getting ready to quote. There she is though. I see a lot when I look in her eyes.

For lack of a word more accurate than 'luck' I happen to have a great many objects from mother's side of the family. Things no-one else has seen and didn't know existed ... except me!

This is a letter she began on June 27, 1902. She begins it "Dear Papa" and tells him "I am going to write you anyway if you did just go yesterday." A sentence later she mentions how "To-morrow I am thirteen. The boys says I am going to get a lot of whippings and I believe it." She then stops the letter because she has to go for dinner.

She picks the letter back up on June 29, 1902, the day after her thirteenth birthday. In the photo below is what she writes about her birthday.

"Last night we had a very nice time. We had Myrtle and a little friend of hers, Rachel Green, Alice, Harold, Ethel, Frank, Louise, and our family to have the fun.
We were to to have molasses taffy to pull and so while Jeanette was cooking it we played games. There was a dozen of us to pull it and so we had lots of fun. I wish you could have been here.
I got a bicycle and fifty cents from you (*side note - I think she said 'you', there is a hole in the letter there and it makes it hard to know for certain*), a box of bonbons from the boys, (Bones and Jame), a bag of marsh-mallow cookies from Harold; and a plate of elegant fudges that Ethel and Alice gave me. Besides lots of whippings."

So -- why does this strike me so and what is the lesson? Ok, 1) let's all be clear - the whippings were in good fun. I know you remember getting them + one to grow on as y'all grew.
Since that's not it, what is it?

It's the general simplicity of the time. It's the gifts of food and the fun of pulling taffy. It's "we played games" and knowing they were likely outside playing them, making them up as they went. It's how much she honestly seemed to enjoy it. And she was turning 13!! THIRTEEN!! No cellphones. No designer clothes (hey, they had those back then).

These days if you go to a party, any party, you're likely to spend $20 at the very bare minimum on a gift. And that price is more accurate if you're lucky.
Things cost more than they did over a hundred years ago, that's obvious. Things cost more than they did five or ten years ago. But there is a bigger price paid.

You wind up paying a fair chunk of change for a gift. SOMETHING to give the person. Not something terribly special, but something that you might think they'd like or it might make you think of them. Just really a gift because it is __fill in the occasion__ and you have to get them a gift. A lot of times there is the added pressure of making sure that all the other people attending said occasion will be equally as wow-ed by your gift and envious that you found THAT to give to the honored person.

And they usually like it. But eventually it becomes clutter. More stuff. More toys that need batteries, which have to constantly be bought. More things you stub your toe on. More interesting items you set aside somewhere with a plan for it whenever that infamous "one day" comes along.

Sadly, if you asked me what I got for my birthday or Christmas I'd be hard pressed to tell you. And I'm not boasting because I got so much stuff. Comparatively speaking (in the Western/American society I live in) I didn't. But, in the end, most of it was likely stuff.

My Lesson From Pom & her Friends (oooh .. peer pressure!):

*Less is more.
*If you're going to get a gift, think about the person truly. Sometimes there are those truly special things and that's ok.
*Make them something.
*Make them food that, hopefully, you can all enjoy sharing.
*Make them a card, play-dough (shout out to my friend Cat who made Shannon play-dough one year for his birthday. It was AWESOME!)
*Spend time with them on their special day. Have fun. Laugh.
*Laugh!! -- That was worth two lines.
*Create memories ~ they'll enhance your brain & your heart!

This is my new way of looking at occasions & gift giving. If you're attending something in our honor, please follow these lessons. If you have to spend something, try to keep it under $10.

Our economy is in bad shape. Our environment is in worse shape. We all, likely, already have too much stuff.

I hereby give us all permission to, from this moment on, be free of stuff. Follow Pom's lessons (and her friends' & family members'!) and embrace the simplicity and honesty of it all.

What do you think?

Welcome June!

2011-06-02T08:54:00.004-04:00

A photo of our first true harvest of the year. 2lbs 5oz of shiny, freshly picked tart cherries. We went out early this morning to gather them before the temperature began to climb to high. Tristan has a skinned knee (which necessitates being carried as much as possible and dramatically hobbling when forced to walk) from a riding tumble so he sat on the bench, an old church pew, and watched as Shannon and I worked our way around the 6 1/2' tall tree. We picked one ... yes one, single, little strawberry this year. Our black-eyed susans have spread like crazy and choked them out. So, this is our first real harvest.

June is here. I don't know where you live but, as much as I love the Summer Solstice, it does NOT mark the beginning of Summer for me. Not when we have several days of temperatures in the 90's. Nope. Summer began a while back. Whenever it got hot enough for me to crave a pool. Which, amazingly enough, we got this year. Every year we've had some form of kiddie pool and this year is only a slight exception. We've been able to move out of the driveway and into the backyard where there now sits a 15' round above ground pool. Justin's parents had an extra one and so, viola, now we have a pool. Sure, I can sit on the bottom and the water comes up to my chin but, ya know what?? I don't care!!! Because it is nice and cool!! It's a friggin' tropical paradise in my mind! I would seriously spend the majority of my time there lately if I could. Of course, once Tristan decides he routinely likes getting in the pool that'll just make the experience even better. Right now it's a battle that involves lots of tears and screaming and forcing him into a swimsuit, then sometimes literally plopping him down in the pool. He cries for a minute or so then remembers that he really LOVES playing in the pool and happily does so for a couple of hours.

The chickens aren't too thrilled about this heat though I am sure they're at least happy that we decided (wisely it seems given the heat) that after last year's HOT HOT Summer they needed more shade and so their 'winter chalet' has become their permanent home. Plus, the tractor needs rebuilding and I don't think it would've survived being hauled around the yard much longer.
But since they still aren't so happy about the heat they aren't laying quite as productively as they had been. We've had a couple of no-egg days. Though, when I went out to gather yesterday's eggs this morning (yea, I forgot yesterday, it happens) I found Patti nesting on the floor of the coop. I leaned in there and forced her off. She was sitting on 3 eggs. I am hoping they are not that old. I don't think they are, and I know they're fine outside the fridge for quite a while on their own anyways.
So .. it's Tally Time!!

May Egg Tally: 79 eggs (only three less than in April)
Year To Date Egg Tally: 349

Still pretty sweet!!

Also going on around here ... hmm, let's see. Shannon is in the process of doing his first year of end of the year testing required for homeschooling. Justin is the one handling this as I have a lot of issues with the whole thing. Plus, it allows him to have some more direct involvement with their schooling and that is good.
Tristan just finished up Story Time at the local library for the year and this Summer we'll be sending in his first NOI for kindergarten.
We've finally got a logo for our brewery, which is pretty sweet. If you want, take a second and go check it out http://soulonebrewery.blogspot.com. We've even been able to get some merchandise for it already which is really cool. I'll post the photos of that stuff on that blog as soon as I can.
You may have noticed the profile photo change on here. Finally a photo of me with dreads!! My dreads are already 6 months old now. Yes, people with dreads talk about "how old their dreads are." Dreads are an on-going thing. They change as they age. It's cool. Except in Summer, when your dreads reach down the middle of your back. Then it's pretty darn hot. High ponytails have become a staple for me. But, again, here is where dreads can be fun. You can wrap up a pretty massive bun if you've got the length for it (I do!). You can tie your hair up in an updo using one or two of your dreads ~ try that with a pencil!! I have been known to wear mine up in high pigtails using only the dreads themselves to secure them. Plus there are wraps and bandanas and etc to wrap them up with. That's always really fun.
And, finally, a reason why I haven't been posting on here as much. I've taken on more work with the Main Street Newspapers. I now do at least a feature a week for The Vinton Messenger and the Cave Spring Connection papers. I also do here & there stuff for The Salem Times Register. ALSO - I'm now doing a lot of online stuff for them. You can check them out at http://www.ourvalley.org
It's really, really cool and something I love doing. I finally am getting paid to write. Very cool. However, it is also a huge adjustment period for me. Being able to work from home means I can work whenever, but it also means I need to learn to decided when exactly that whenever might be, and (very importantly) when it isn't.
So, to try and implement this, this morning here is what I've done: picked cherries, weighed cherries, gotten sourdough bread going, fed the sourdough starter, fed the kefir, got the dishes going, fed dogs, gathered eggs, done the tallies, BLOGGED!, sent kids to their rooms for fighting, and then let them play outside once they've decided their done fighting. No, I haven't gotten my shower yet (be glad you can't smell me through the computer I suppose), but I'll get to that shortly. And I've only checked work email through the phone, where I haven't replied, just looked at one email. :)

And there is the beginning of our Summer here. How is your's going?

Eggs, Chickens, Kitchen, & Kids

2011-05-04T09:10:00.007-04:00

While the legality of chickens in Salem lingers on in limbo I have been fairly silent about chickens and eggs. At least fairly silent for me, which is a completely relative measurement. But no more, and especially not today.

You will not take my chickens from me. A defiant statement I realize, but it simply won't happen. I have no intention of fighting with anyone, nor am I attempting to wave a red flag by stating this, I am simply saying it.

We've reached a time in history where pasture raised chicken (chickens not kept in tiny little pens) are $4 lb and eggs from pasture raised chickens can easily be over $3 a dozen, you will not take my chickens from me. I paid over $27 for a rabbit (for eating) yesterday. Animals that once were common are now affordable to only those of flexible, or considerable, income.

It isn't just about the money though. Not by a long shot. It is much more about the beauty and richness that the experience provides us. That can not be measured, it can only attempt to be described.

I've been reading Julia Child's My Life in France. I read about her first dining experience and how customers were asking (she had to get her husband to translate for her) "how was the chicken raised?" This has left me speechless and saddened, for I know how few places I could dine at now where anyone in the restaurant could begin to know that. The world has changed, and along the way we lost something precious.

Something beautiful happened though when I to page 60 in the book. This is the 'Le Cordon Bleu' Chapter and she is talking about how Chef Bugnard taught them how to properly made scrambled eggs. Here is the excerpt from the book:

With a smile, Chef Bugnard cracked two eggs and added a dash of salt and pepper. "Like this," he said, gently blending the yolks and whites together with a fork. "Not too much."
He smeared the bottom and sides of a frying pan with butter, then gently poured the eggs in. Keeping the heat low, he stared intently at the pan. Nothing happened. After a long three minutes, the eggs began to thicken into a custard. Stirring rapidly with the fork, sliding the pan on and off the burner, Bugnard gently pulled the egg curds together -- "Keep them a little bit loose; this is very important," he instructed.
"Now the cream or butter," he said, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
"This will stop the cooking, you see?" I nodded, and he turned the scrambled eggs out onto a plate, sprinkled a bit of parsley around, and said, "Voila!"
His eggs were always perfect, and although he must have made this dish several thousand times, he always took great pride and pleasure in this performance. Bugnard insisted that one pay attention, learn the correct technique, and that one enjoy one's cooking -- "Yes, Madame Scheeld, fun!" he'd say. "Joy!"
It was a remarkable lesson. No dish, not even the humbled scrambled egg, was too much trouble for him. "You never forget a beautiful thing that you have made," he said. "Even after you eat it, it stays with you -- always."

Immediately after reading this for the first time I knew I simply had to make scrambled eggs. And so I did, and I was overcome by how delicious they were. Amazing. The best scrambled eggs I've ever had, and I've always thought I'd had some pretty darn good scrambled eggs in the past. And that first batch has stayed with me. And I am reminded of it each time I remake it. I have been so taken with this part of the book that I haven't been able to read beyond it yet.
Something so remarkable from something so simple. Amazing.

But, of course, the chickens and eggs aren't just enriching in the delicious and healthy food they provide for us. Nor in the benefits that they provide for our yard and garden, which are quite numerous as well. They are beneficial in what they have taught my children.

Tristan attends story time at the local library (a fantastic library by the way!). The week of Easter the stories revolved around eggs and there was an Easter Egg Hunt afterwards in the courtyard. ~Yes, Salem's library has a gorgeous courtyard that is enclosed by a beautiful brick wall and that contains tables situated under brightly colored umbrellas, old gnarly tree roots that beckon you to lean up against them while reading, and landscaping that makes you feel like you've stumbled upon a secret garden. All it lacks is a small pond with fish.~
While we were at the library for story time this week I was pulled aside by the girl who had happened to read to the children Easter week. She wanted to let me know something that Tristan had said.
"I was reading to them a book and in it there was an egg, but it was a robin's egg, and it had a little bird inside," she told me.
Apparently Tristan felt the need to correct her on this and tell the class what was REALLY inside of eggs. He had the full attention of all the children there as he informed them on what was really in the eggs. They began asking questions such as "how do baby birds get in the eggs?"

Since this was beginning to veer into territory beyond the simple Easter themed story the girl reading the book suggested they just get back to the book.

Aside from interrupting story time and someone reading aloud to a class, I am quite proud of Tristan. This is a subject he does know a lot about, though please remember that since we don't have a rooster we don't have fertilized eggs and the chance of chicks.
I am proud of him for being able to speak up and out on an issue he was informed on. On having the desire to want to share that knowledge with others. Of holding the attention of the other children. Especially since these are children who have likely not seen a live chicken, much less ones in a backyard setting, or petted one, or raised one, or who have been responsible for gathering fresh eggs out of the nest boxes.

Never underestimate the power of doing things for yourself. Of taking charge of your lives and the ability to provide for yourself and your family. Never underestimate the endless benefits that can come from such acts.

Looking Back at April

2011-05-01T13:18:00.004-04:00

Shannon started his first year of rec soccer. This was his first game. I apologize for the poor photo quality, I was playing with a new camera, but you can see him there ~ he's the one with the ball.
He also lost his first top front tooth this month. We've finally come to the stages of big, goofy gaps in grins.

Eggs! These were the eggs we actually colored for Easter, something we haven't done in several years since ours are naturally colored. It was a fun experiment.
Here are our current Egg Tallies:

March 2011 - 97 eggs
April 2011 - 82 eggs
Year to Date (as of the end of April) - 349 eggs!

This month has been good egg wise as it is the first month since we've EVER had chickens where ALL our gals laid an egg on the same day. That happened twice this month. Pretty cool.
The general vibe about chickens continues to be positive, and that's making life a lot nicer. We may even look into placing another order of the "What the Cluck" t-shirts as we've had some inquiries about them.

The gardens have begun blooming and we've tried something new this year: selling some home raised plants! Most of them are heirloom varieties and, of course, they're raised 'organically.' I suppose legally I can't use that word since they aren't certified organic, but we grow the all naturally, without chemicals, even using collected rainwater as often as we can to water them. We've sold a lot of our tomatoes, the peppers are still coming in & we have some spoken for already, and the feedback has been really good. It will definitely be something we do next year too.
The best part of this is that it makes me feel like a true urban homesteader now. Obviously we're not able to completely live off of what we grow, but what we grow helps sustain us greatly and now it is even providing us with a little bit of income. Plus, it is wonderful to be able to get to meet new people as we have when we've sold the plants. Absolutely fantastic!

Finally, there was the last day of April, and the 60th Annual Ernest "Pig" Robertson Fishing Rodeo. This is our third year and, like previous years it was full of calamities. Broken lines, a broken pole, and so on. However, unlike previous years, this year both Shannon and Tristan caught a trout. Shannon had actually caught a second one, but as we were reeling it in and trying to get it out of the water, the line broke. We fished for a while longer with no success. Justin's parents were there (also an annual tradition) and, just as we were beginning to get ready to leave, Bill noticed a trout just kinda hanging out where we had our caught ones on the hooks in the water. Justin deftly swooped it up in the net!! It turns out the one that got away didn't get very far, and so we went home with 3 trout.

April also went out with a bang. Justin turned 30 and his party was last night. Needless to say it was a very good one. Full of good food, good drinks, and, most importantly, good friends.

We certainly are looking forward with hope and happiness.

To Smart Phone or Not to Smart Phone?

2011-04-27T13:29:00.004-04:00

What would The Dude do??

In high school I was able to get my own phone line. Not just a phone in my room, but my own friggin' phone number. For a high school girl, who happens to be very chatty, this was like the Golden Ticket. ~ That was cool.

I'll admit to having owned a beeper for a while too. In the days before cell phones, this is what you owned. Looking back on it, it was really stupid. I mean, there weren't cell phones and if you were out somewhere and your mother paged you then you had to hunt here and there for a pay phone (and change for it), all while your mother gets angrier and angrier the longer it takes you to return her call. People paged you with "911" when it couldn't have been less of an emergency. And, we TRIED texting. Think all the abbreviations in texting world are confusing now? You shoulda seen it when we had to use numbers!! ~ Ok, an aside here because, dude, doesn't that just sound like a "You know nothin' youngster. When I was your age and we wanted to text we had to use numbers because they didn't have letters like they do now!!" ~ So, the beeper was, and remains, a joke. Unless you're a doctor or somebody.

A decade ago when I moved back from Charleston, SC and was temporarily living in my Dad's basement, I got a cell phone. It made sense. Minutes were limitless. Ahh .. it's like the 60's and Free Love, but instead it was the 00's and I had Free Minutes. But, it did make sense. I spent very little time at home and, still being rather chatty, this enabled me to go forth and chat as much as I pleased.
I don't remember texting coming along for another 3 years or so. And then it was on a green-lit screen in little black type. Kinda like old computers, but in reverse. And it wasn't a big deal. It was fun, but most people didn't text. Oooh .. another ala the 60's moment of naughtily asking "so, do you ... text?"
~ But the overall look-back of those days was that the cell phone was worth it. Though it always has bothered me that it starts with the word "cell", like I'm imprisoned or something.

After Shannon came along and I began staying at home, our need for a cell phone disappeared. I mean, I was home. If Justin wasn't here he was at work. If he wasn't at work he was on his way to or from or perhaps at lunch. We could handle not being able to reach each other for those time periods.
After Tristan came along we still didn't need a cell phone. But then, my mom & stepdad began being our go-to babysitters. And they couldn't always reach us. And come Summertime and with it staying light a lot longer you can accidentally let several hours go by wherein you're suddenly several hours late picking up your kids and your mother, who isn't prone to worrying or hysterics or anything at all like that, thinks you're in a ditch dead somewhere and begins filing the adoption papers so she can keep the kids. ... Well, sorta. You get the idea.
A cell phone was forced upon us. To tell you how much we resisted and fought the notion, we actually "inherited" my 90 year old grandfather's cell phone. Apparently it did him little good because he just kept it in a drawer all the time. So Mom repo'd it from him and hoisted it upon us.

Now the world has changed and everyone has a cell phone. I do find myself using it a lot. You can't call people, they don't want to be bothered. For those of you on my daily "gotta chat with" list I apologize for being such a pest, know that you are loved dearly, and well, please don't quit talking to me I might go nuts. But, the rest of you! HA!! The rest of you can't be bothered with phones!!!
OR EMAIL!! Who has the time to check email?? There are so many of them too!!! It's overwhelming!!
Then, a somewhat geeky savior came along. We weren't sure about him at first because the colors were bland, but then we came around. That's right FACEBOOK.
Facebook became THE way to connect and stay in touch. You could find everyone and talk with them!! But, that's the problem isn't it? Everyone found you. And they want to talk. About everything. Every .. single .. stupid .. inane .. thought that comes out of their swelled heads. ~ I would be just as guilty of this as everyone else, but face it, all my thoughts are worthy of being saved as magnets and bumper stickers and just generally dipped in gold. Really.
But, since most people have just become a pest and there are enough invites on Facebook to make you miss having to actually mail the damn things, people have begun ignoring Facebook too.

NOW if you want to talk to someone you have to text them. In fact, there was a recent comic strip that joked how if you want to talk to someone you have to text them to let them know that you will be calling them. Not far from the truth.
AND .. there is an app for EVERYTHING!

When we went on vacations last year we did use the online access available with our cell phone. Being out of town and in places with out of date phone books and etc, it did make it helpful. But our phone is now a dinosaur among phones. I wish it could be as cool as having an actual fossil, but I think my phone is more comparable to coprolite. Ya know, fossilized poop. Though I believe coprolites are more valuable than my current cell phone. Maybe I should pour tree sap around my cell phone and allow it to sit and harden for several thousand years. Then it might be worth something again. In fact, I may just have myself buried that way. Surely that would REALLY mess with some folks thousands of millions of years from now ... right???

But, I digress, and in that digression I probably show that I really don't need a smart phone. Or do I? I tried comparing my phone with current smart phones to, well, umm, shop smartly for a smart phone? I pretty much got laughed at, and not in the way I usually like. In the "HA!! You can't compare THAT to THIS!!! HA!" snotty sales clerk who knows everything about smart phones kinda way.
Then I went to a different store. There I met a sales clerk who reminded me of Holt from the Cleveland Show, only taller. "Nope you do NOT want this. It's JUNK. HATE IT! You want this!" ~ Ok, dude, you might've thought you were gaining my trust by telling me this, but really you seemed like a douche. And playing Bob Marley in your store didn't make you any cooler.

I really didn't like feeling like I was just trying to be upsold. I'd be much more comfortable if the sales clerk sat down with me, had a few drinks, and said "Dude, what do you really want to do?" And then we could figure this whole thing out together.

But it doesn't work like that. And all I know is that I liked being able to access a couple things on the web. And I like a couple of the apps. Mostly the really stupid ones like the one with the talking cat. And I'm scared of the Droid phones because I'm scared of robots and androids and my main question if I were to get one of those would be about "Can I change it to say something else other than DROID?? Cuz that really creeps me out." Actually, I don't think I could get a Droid phone, it creeped me out too much just touching it. (And yes, I know they mostly all use Android technology, but that's on the inside and much easier to overlook)

Do I need all these GB?? I don't want to watch movies on my cell phone, that's why I have the man cave-ish living room! I would like to be able to take better quality photos with my cell phone than I currently can, but being a freelance photographer I still want to do the majority of my photos with .. ya know .. my cameras!

So, Dude, I just don't know. I really don't. But I would love to hear your thoughts. So, please, leave me a message and tell me what you think. Do you own a smart phone? Are you uber-hip or are you a quasi-Luddite? Do you really use it for all it's worth?

Earth Day Anger

2011-04-22T08:46:00.005-04:00

~photo borrowed from http://www.geardiary.com/2009/04/22/celebrate-earth-day/~

Earth Day is upon us once again and normally I would be full of mirth and merriment but instead, today, I'm just pissed off. I know, I know ... I mean, look at me, at our lives, this should be like our Christmas or something, right? Wrong!

So, why am I pissed off? Let's start with the 'More, More, MORE Orgasm' shall we? Supposedly being frugal is now chic. It's hip to save money and companies have responded with a Pavlovian drool response that rivals my dogs'. Groupon. Shortcut.com. Daily Deal. And on and on. At first these things didn't seem so bad. Kinda cute, good deals, yada yada. But now? C'mon man!!! Most of the coupons that you would use in the store are for Frankenfoods that you really wouldn't want to put in your body if you took a second glance at the reality of them. And, these Daily Deal coupons? Ok, not all of them require 'TODAY ONLY!' but a lot of them do. And, you know what, I don't need your shit today! In fact, do I need it at all????
The reality is that these coupons & deals are an attempt to get us to buy more crap. More crap that we likely don't need. Confining it to one day means we have to find a way to acquire that money NOW, meaning we're likely to be spending unwisely: on credit, in lieu of something that is an actual need, etc. This isn't being frugal. This is the exact opposite of it.

Second Gripe: I feel like we have less and less say over our own lives. Even when we own a spot of space of our own there are more and more rules about what we can, or more accurately, CAN NOT do with it. Yea, there's a good chance we'll get to keep our chickens. But should this have been something we've had to fight so hard for and that others are having to fight harder for? Should there be rules that forbid you to hang your laundry to dry? What type of gardens you can plant and where? I mean, what the fuck?
We have spread out and spread out and spread out some more, and in the process we've taken away the ability to provide for ourselves. Food HAS to be imported in because ya certainly can't grow it here!!!! You know, there was a time when you could go out to eat and ask how your food was raised. Not just cooked, but RAISED. Sadly, nowadays you're lucky if they know how it is cooked (and even then you're likely limited to baked, fried, grilled, or broiled - just that, nothing more). As to where it was before it was cooked? In the freezer or walk-in. Before that? On a truck.
If you want to drink good milk it's gonna come from between 45 minutes away and an hour away. And your choices here are extremely limited. Raw milk is illegal. At first you might think this isn't so bad, right? Wrong. Am I not intelligent enough to be able to decide for myself what to consume? Apparently so. This kind of reminds me of Robin Hood. Where it's illegal to hunt for wild animals because they all belong to the King.

And, finally, for the same reason I was so pissed off about Earth Day in high school: Earth Day Whores. Because, and I am quoting what I said to my chemistry class in high school here, you twits don't give a shit about it any other day of the year, you're just doing all this right now for another "look at me" opportunity. The week leading up to Earth Day it becomes a pep-rally orgy of banners and slogans and other cutesy crap. How much "Earth Day 2011" crap was sold this year? Really? Did we need to create so much more junk? Is that really celebrating the earth?
In some of the photos I saw today there was one on a beach in Florida from Earth Day 2009. 4,000 pounds were used to create a colored sand sculpture that spelled out "SAVE OUR EARTH". It was pretty, so were those stupid banners. It was so big that well, hmmm ..... where could you REALLY get a good view of it???? Oh!!! I know!!! THE SKY!!!!! HELLO MEDIA OPPORTUNITY!!!!!

Unless of course they're trying to talk to possible aliens in space. And, should that be the case, I'm pretty certain those aliens would agree with that cartoon up top.

PS ~ Just in case, I feel I need to clarify something. If you've read this and you read my above rant about Earth Day Whores, I am not calling YOU specifically one. That "you twits" statement was something I said in high school. And THEY were twits. But you ... well, you read this, so likely you're pretty friggin' awesome.

Conversations with Sam Elliott

2011-03-31T09:37:00.007-04:00

We all seek guidance from time to time, and it is well acknowledged that the devine is within us. I'm not sure who you talk to when you talk to the devine, but I'm usually talking to Sam Elliott. Don't ask me why, I'm not really sure. It's just that he was really, really hot in Roadhouse and he seems pretty wise in general, and has a wonderfully soothing voice.

Me - Dear Sam Elliott, I'm really feeling lost today.

Sam Elliott - Why are you addressing me? You aren't writing a letter. I'm right here, just talk. It's no wonder you're lost if you can't tell whether or not you are talking or writing.

Me - True. But, technically I am writing this all down ...

Sam Elliott - Well, go on then darling.

Me - I am feeling lost today. I need to go to the grocery store but I am worried about how much I will end up spending.

Sam Elliott - You're bothering me for this?

Me - Well, I am concerned about money! That's a fair concern to have. I mean how am I ..

Sam Elliott, cutting me off - Hey hey hey now. Have you looked around lately? Have you seen how many other people are hurtin'? Don't you think you have it pretty good comparatively speakin'?

Me - True. You're right, I do have it pretty good.

Sam Elliott - So, why are you workin' yourself up in a fit about this?

Me - I just wish I could do more. I wish I could contribute more.

Sam Elliott - Justin would say that if you want to contribute more you should offer to have sex more frequently...

Me - Hey!! We're not talking about Justin here. We're talking about me.

Sam Elliott - Just sayin'..

Me - Yea, well, who's side are you on?

Sam Elliott - Sex is always good, I don't mind being on either side. You should try that more often.

Me - What? You do know people are going to read this don't you? I mean, geez, my mom might read this!

Sam Elliott - Are you trying to say your mom doesn't like sex?

Me - No, she does. Wait, why am I talking with you about my mother and sex?!!? I'm trying to talk to you about money.

Sam Elliott - Sex & money ... those two conversations have always gone hand in hand together.

Me - Quit it! Sam Elliott - Just sayin' ..

Ok - so apparently Sam Elliott is just being a silly pervert today. Do any of y'all have these problems when trying to have a serious conversations with your inner-divineness?

Sam Elliott - Don't call me your "inner-divineness" please, that sounds a little too girly for my tastes.

Me - Ok ... fine. What do you want me to call you?

Sam Elliott - Stick with 'Sam Elliott' I don't think we're close enough yet for anything else.

Me - Really?

Sam Elliott - Yea, you gotta earn it.

Me - *sigh* fine.

Sam Elliott - Don't worry darling, it's almost Friday.

Me - And that means what to me?

Sam Elliott - I don't know. You can always watch 'Roadhouse' again and see if that helps.

Hello Spring?

2011-03-28T20:33:00.004-04:00

Just as we in Southwestern Virginia were beginning to enjoy sunny days with temperatures in the mid to upper 60's we have been brought crashing back down into reality by daytime highs in the 40's and the occasional snow shower. Forget the capris, sunglasses, & sandals!! Now we're all running around in UGGs and jackets, freaking out about our flowering fruit trees, blooming flowers, and gardens!!! OH THE TRAVESTY!!!!! Just last week Tristan and I were playing on the playground while Shannon had his soccer practice. Tristan was in shorts and a t-shirt, though it was still a little cool so early in the morning. This past Saturday though?? FREEZING!!! Ok, maybe not freezing. But 40 degrees and there was a breeze. So, close enough for us all to be bundled up. I hadn't made Tristan wear a jacket, I had let him go out (actually, Justin did this, it's all his fault. If you're going to report me to Child Protective Services for this, blame him first) with just a hoodie sweatshirt on. Well .. obviously that and a shirt underneath and jeans and socks, shoes, and underwear. All in that order knowing Tristan. Still though, he was cold. I had brought a looped scarf (a long cowl?) with me in case I got cold. I had been wearing it but was worried about Tristan being cold. I asked him if he wanted to wear it. He said he did.

No, that's not an Ewok from one of the Star Wars movies (though oddly and off-topically enough, Foster does do an impressive Chewbacca impersonation!). That's Tristan. He looks like a cross between an Ewok & a Babushka. With a playground ball.

Spring, I don't know where you've gone to but I'm ready for you to come back. But, till then, I'm bundling us all up a little bit better!

Signs of Spring

2011-03-21T12:26:00.010-04:00

Everyone has their different particular signs that Spring is officially here. Maybe it is trees beginning to bud and blossom.

This is one of our redbud trees.

Our Bradford Pear tree, suddenly going into full bloom!

In the foreground you can see our newest fruit tree, a sweet cherry variety called 'Sweetheart' (under which Jomo's belongings are buried), in the back ground you can see the lilac that my great-grandmother planted full of buds and ready to bloom.

Maybe your sign that Spring is here is the flowers that begin popping up.

The daffodils we planted when we first moved in. The tulips were originally planted by my great-grandmother. We've moved them around in the yard, letting them regain their health and begin to blossom once again!

Perhaps your sign is when seeds are started for Summer's gardens.

We found this little mini-greenhouse at our local Lowe's for $39. It's exciting to try out and we're full of high hopes.

Heck, maybe your sign of Spring is the chicken's return to the yard and green grass!

But here one of my official signs. It is when my dogs go from lounging about the house like this:

To insisting, at the very least, on lounging in the sun-warmed back hallway where they can catch a nice breeze every now & then.

That is one of my most official signs, along with the kids' insistence on being outdoors playing as much as the possibly can.

What are your signs?

Twilight Zone

2011-03-20T15:45:00.003-04:00

*PRE-BLOG WARNING: This post contains some political opinions and cussing. Proceed at your own caution*

Facebook is a funny beast. You can find old friends, re-ignite long dead relationships, and meet new friends. You can also meet some really interesting people. This is one such story.

I had sent a friend request to someone I had known in high school, for privacy sake let's call him "DA". We had several similar friends (including a family member). He accepted my request. But, last night he sent me a message on facebook asking who I was and how I knew him. I told him we went to school together. DA replied that he didn't keep up with the past. I mentioned how I had seen him not to long ago, out and about. Then I went and looked at his page. His profile picture was in costume, but when I looked at his other photos I realized I didn't know him. I knew someone else with the same name. I laughed and told him of my error, apologizing and telling him I would remove him as a friend since we didn't know each other. He told me that I didn't have to and started chatting with me. We chatted till I had to leave for dinner.

Today I posted this status: Another tray of seeds are in the greenhouse! Heirloom banana peppers, miniature chocolate bell peppers, habanero peppers, basil, melons, and various varieties of heirloom tomatoes!! :)

This is now where we begin to enter the Twilight Zone.

DA sends me a private message a couple minutes after I post that, with the subject line being "LOL". Here is a copy of the messages back and forth between us, which I have NOT edited AT ALL:

DA: I can get that stuff at subway and not worry about taking the time to plant that shit

Me: Yea, but that shit you get is grown in & covered with chemicals. Our stuff is grown organically, enriches our soil, provides habitats & food for wildlife (bees, etc), nourishes our bodies and soul and etc, etc, etc. So there. ;P hee hee

DA: you probably voted for obama... didnt you!

Me: Ah-yup. :D

DA: his ass is out here soon, a bush will be back soon, thank god, I hope all you liberal mf love the change

Me: Hahaha, I take it you don't give a damn about politics, do you? :)

DA: i give a damn, thats mf goes on and does his bullshit thing, hes a nig in the office that has spent more money and doesnt to a mf thing

Me: Compared to Bush who did SO much good?? Or compared to the mind-numbing idiocy of Palin? Or compared to soo many things several Republicans are now trying to push regarding women's rights??

DA: fk him and his 4 years, so glad that son of a bitch is out soon
DA: its always something but republicans and myself dont have shit, oh and by the way I am a fan of sarah, she is down to earth, good hearted women

Me: Dude, you're completely entitled to your opinion. I don't care if you're a Republican. I don't vote by party and don't consider myself aligned with any party. I've voted for both sides. Frankly, I think most people in power are all the same, regardless of party. But, do me a favor will ya, if you're going to cuss then cuss. At least have the balls to type it out properly. I won't offend. ;)

DA: I dont have a problem about cussing

Me: you just can't type it? :)

DA: yeah I can and how do you like those fucking gas prices now obama... get what you vote for and the goddamn health care, nice vote i tell ya

Me: Umm .. I'm guessing you've forgotten 2008 when gas prices hit bottom. Ole GW was still in charge then. Regarding health care, our system has been fucked up for a LONG time. But, then again, I don't care for Western medicine. And, again, look at what a lot of Republicans are pushing now regarding women's health care rights. And, just an fyi, if the Democrats were pushing such atrocities, I would be just as outraged.

DA: your a hippy what else can I say
DA: maybe a tree hugger too??

Me: If you say so. But I DID attend the most recent Republican party meeting held in Salem.

DA: good for you

Me: Thank you. I was talking to them because they support my current cause. Habeeb and Ralph Smith were there. I talked before they did. I was even nice enough to wear my dreads pulled back in a ponytail. Didn't want to freak them out too much. :)

DA: ya think

Me: I think what?

DA: with your smoked up dreads.. Im sure it smelled nice

Me: My dreads smoked up?? There's an assumption! But I did smell nice. I always smell nice. Friggin' golden, dude.

DA: I can just tell by talking to you , Im not a dude you hippy, you take care, Iam done talking with you

Me: Later then, man. :)
Me: Wait, if you're not a dude then are you a chick?

This conversation lasted a little over an hour. I was laughing during it and I assumed he was too, given the randomness of it all and the fact that his original subject line had been "LOL." I figured when he said he was done talking with me that he was off to do something else. NOPE. He de-friended me!!! I was dumbfounded but not the least bit offended or hurt.

To me this is like walking up to someone you think you know, tapping them on the shoulder and saying hi, only to realize you're mistaken and don't know then. You apologize and try to excuse yourself, but they start chatting you up. So, you talk to them. Then, suddenly they start getting mad at you and storm off in a huff, leaving you wander if you really are drunk or high or something and the people with you "Wait, did you just see that?" because you begin to wonder if the whole thing was real or not.

Totally TWILIGHT ZONE. And worth the laugh that it has given me. I hope you can get a laugh out of it too. If not, I guess I'm sorry you read this far? :)

In my head .. again

2011-03-20T10:05:00.003-04:00

No doom this time though. Whew.

I live in my head a lot. It makes the world much nicer. In my head our house is situated on at least 500 acres of land. The gardens are large and abundant. It's a step back in history to slightly before the time our house was actually built.

This morning I am in my head once again. Not on my 500 acres though. I am out roaming around the world. I am in my VW Westy, which someday I will actually own.

I am rolling out of it, foggy headed & with wild dreads, and I am ambling over to the campfire. Stirring the coals back around, starting back up a small fire so that I can cook breakfast. Hmm .. I think this morning's breakfast is definitely bacon & potato hash. Smoke from the burning wood drifts into the VW and swirls about inside like incense.

What will the day hold for me? Where will we wander about? We are free today to do as we please. Laugh, drink, sing, roam, explore ... imagining all the possibilities.

In reality, I hear beer bottles clinking outside. Today our Belgian Blonde Ale will get bottled. The beer is calling to me heavily already this morning. Some Sundays are perfect for sitting out on the deck and sipping on beers.

Yesterday was good. We moved the chickens back to the yard and cleaned out their Winter Chalet. We set up the new mini-greenhouse and started some seeds. We were outdoors most of the day and it was magnificent.
Justin has had a beef roast going in the crockpot since yesterday and the aroma of it is driving me out of my mind. I think I my drooling could compete with the Mastiff's.

The roast wasn't ready for dinner last night, so we picked up some fresh made North Carolina BBQ from a couple who has set up shop on Main Street. A small trailer with a impressive smoker rigged up next to it. How can you deny the allure of the smoker?

Today we will likely plant some more seeds. It is that time of year and since we missed out on it last year we are looking forward to it all the more now. The trees are blooming, going from bare branches to full blossoms overnight.

I am ok with my head and reality not quite syncing up right now. Both are fantastic worlds to be in.

Doom Spiral Conversation

2011-03-09T08:40:00.003-05:00

Have you ever woken up with that feeling of impending doom? I know you have, we all have ... right? And you wonder what's going on. What is making you feel this way? So you sit there and ponder it with yourself. Here is how that conversation with yourself might go, or at least how mine is going today:

Wake up full of sadness.

*Well, you did drink last night.*

Yea, maybe that's it. Did I do something stupid?

*I don't think so. But then again, I was drinking too.*

Well, what did I do? Did I say things I shouldn't have?

*Hmm .. you were telling stories from the past. But I'm pretty sure they were funny, so I think you're all good there.*

I probably shouldn't have driven.

*Yea, that part's true. Lucky thing you drink close to home and you weren't really THAT drunk, just a little tipsy drunk. Still though .. no excuse .. shame on you for that one. You're gonna have to just acknowledge it, feel bad about it, be glad nothing bad happened and promise not to do it again.*

Agreed. I promise. Maybe I'm getting older and feeling more responsible.

*Yea, you are old now.*

Shut up, you're not helping.
So .. what else is wrong?? Why the doom?

*Ummm ... it's raining? Don't rainy days make people feel full of doom?*

Not me though, I like the rain.

*Maybe a flood is comin'. Better check on the cows*

Ok, now you're just off your rocker!
I wish Justin had stayed home from work today. Maybe the impending doom is my subconscious knowing he's going to get in a wreck or something.

*Don't say that!! You know he'll be fine. Your subconscious is full of shit.*

You're my subconscious.

*Um .. yea. I meant the other subconscious. You know, like the cartoons, one on each shoulder saying different things.*

So, now I have two of you??

*Quit bugging me, we're trying to figure out the doom. Maybe you're having a heart attack.*

WHAT?!?! OH MY GOD, 'feelings of impending doom' IS A SIGN OF HEART ATTACKS IN WOMEN!!!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER???????

*Wait, don't freak out yet, you'll just give yourself a heart attack.*

DUDE, that is SO NOT FUNNY!!

*(giggles)*

Quit it!! I might be dying!! Wait ... I saw that Nicole Kidman movie. What the hell was it? 'The Others' maybe?? You know, where they're living their life and in the end it turns out they have been dead all along and just not known it. She killed her kids and everything!

*What? But you didn't kill your kids.*

Yea, but she didn't know that either. Dead people never seem to know they're dead. Haven't you been watching these movies with me?? You're my subconscious!! Aren't you obligated to be there??

*It's not in my contract.*

But in ALL the movies ..... wait .... you have a contract??

*Don't go there. And lay off the thing about the movies. You're just going to give yourself a panic attack and that's going to lead to a heart attack and then you WILL be dead and not even know it!*

Ha, who's crazy now??

*Have you looked up the symptoms for heart attacks in women?*

You know I have!! Why is EVERYTHING a possible symptom for a heart attack in women?!!? Impending doom? Check. Anxiety? Check. Got your period? Check.

*You don't have your period.*

I know, but it's still like a possible heart attack symptom!!

*Now you're just being silly. I think it's that Valium I slipped you.*

You're slipping me Valium now???

*Well, someone needed to. Hell, look at the stuff you're blogging right now.*

Fair enough. Thanks then I guess.

*You're welcome.*
*Hey, Ellie mentioned it might be the robot thing she posted on Facebook the other day. You are pretty scared of robots...*

Impending doom caused by robots?? Sounds plausible. I think I'll run with that.

*I think you should quit this blog post now. People are going to start thinking you're crazy*

You already know that they do.

*True. But still .. knock it off*

Ok.

~And there you go. The doom spiral conversation. You DO have these with yourself .. right???

Before 9:30

2011-03-07T11:43:00.004-05:00

Mondays can be a bitch, we all know that. But there are some Mondays where the level of "You've GOT to be KIDDING Me" is raised to such an extreme height that it becomes highly advised that you immediately return to bed and, for the sake of all around you, don't come out until Monday is past.
This is the photo summary of my Monday morning. All of it occurring BEFORE 9:30 AM!!! Here we go.

FIRST: Last night I was making waffle fries and sliced the edge of my thumb. It bled like crazy, through two bandaids, requiring gauze and tape to actually get it to heal. This is the photo from last night (you can see I was still making the fries).

This morning, after getting the boys set up with their cereal and the dogs' fed as well, I headed out as usual to tend to the chickens. As I was putting their food in there they began pecking at my bandaged thumb. Pecking can be a sign of love, but I'm pretty sure they were more likely wondering if this weird thing was edible. Luckily, it didn't hurt and didn't cause any more damage to my thumb. Just little tasting love pecks.

SECOND: This one is minor, but still got an "oh just great" out of me. No photo, sorry. I was making butter in the KitchenAid. Filled the bowl too full with cream. As you whip the cream it expands into whipped cream. When you fill the bowl too full that expansion goes over the edge of the bowl and onto the counter. So .. nice, huh?

THIRD: I also made bread this morning. Since we had to fry part of the fries last night we are low on olive oil. I decided to substitute the needed 4TB of olive oil for the bread with 4TB of butter. I took out a stick of butter, cut it, put it in a bowl in the microwave, and got it started melting.
Suddenly I heard a boom. The bowl had exploded!! Seriously, it fucking exploded!!!

This is a photo of what it looked like when I opened the microwave.

Here is a closer-up shot of the melted/melting butter and the exploded glass bowl.

To say I was stunned is an understatement. I've had these bowls since 1999 and I am certain I've microwaved them before. There is simply no way that I haven't. Plus, I really loved these little blue glass bowls. I was originally given a set of 4 and today's loss brings me down to 2.

Here is a photo of the mess swept up into the dustpan along with one of the two remaining glass bowls. I also had to completely wipe out the microwave since shards of butter-coated blue glass were all over the place. So much for that little rag.

FOURTH: Still shaken and shaking from the exploded bowl (that was not yet cleaned up), I excused myself from the kitchen and headed towards my room. The boys had blocked off the entry to the front room from the hallway with a baby gate & one of their Hokie rocking chairs, to keep the dogs from eating their toys. They do this all the time, so nothing new there.
I moved the baby gate and set it up against the wall. Then I gently, and I stress the word gently, pushed the rocking chair aside. It touched up against an antique glass water jug (aka an antique 5 gallon glass carboy) that we use as a jar for loose change. Gently.

I heard a pop. The glass carboy suddenly broke!!! I touched the rocking chair and the glass jug broke AGAIN!!!

You can see how the rocking chair really is just barely touching the glass jug. Nothing even touched where that big hole is, so I have NO CLUE how this happened.

Rocking chair moved away, you can see where the entire side has practically fallen in.

So, now I am left with this. I got Shannon to put the dogs in the crate. To say I was shaking like a leaf at this point was an understatement.
I also wasn't exactly sure how to clean it up. I mean, you can't just throw it all away, the money has to be taken out. So, I thought I would gently turn it to where the broken part faced the wall and wait until Justin got home (or at least nap time) to figure it all out.
I went to turn it and the top half of it CAME OFF IN MY HAND!!!!

Trying to take a photo of this was hard. I couldn't set it down, I was shaking, and the hand I was taking the photo with has the injured thumb. So be friggin' impressed by this photo, ok?

Top half taken out to the trash, here is the bottom half. You can see the money still in the jar.

I sat down beside it with a one-gallon glass carboy and began transferring the money over from the broken jar to the non-broken one. I had to be careful because there were glass shards mixed in with the money. At one point my hand looked all nice and sparkly, covered with little shards of glass.
I kept shaking, because I was having to reach over jagged edges of broken glass to get the coins out. I anticipated my wrist getting sliced open at any moment.
Luckily I was able to turn it as the money got lower, allowing me to reach in over the glass at a spot that wasn't sticking up like a jagged mountain peak.

All the money out, you can see how the bottom was all cracked too.

I was definitely too scared to try and lift this thing to take it outside as it was. One, I wasn't sure how steady the edges were given that it has just out of the blue broken three times in a matter of seconds/minutes. Two, if it did break, the kids were still barefoot, there would be glass everywhere and even if it broke outside, that would be hell to clean up.
I luckily found an empty beer case. I folded it flat and slipped it under the jar. I was then able to gently lift it up, carry it outside and toss it into the trash can.
Saying I had to steady myself as I walked back inside to finish cleaning up is NOT an exaggeration.

Here is the little one-gallon jar.

So ..... how's your Monday going?

Other than chickens ..

2011-03-06T11:57:00.006-05:00

I am actually really mad at AOL and blogging right now. I just spent quite a while working on a chicken update blog when AOL froze up. I thought the blog was all saved, I was in the process of publishing the post when the complete freeze-up occurred, but alas, only a smidgen of it was saved. *A MIGHTY GRRRRRRR*
I thought about trying to rewrite it, but then realized that this is maybe a sign. You know, I CAN talk about things other than chickens. Did you know that? I think most people have forgotten that.
So, things other than chickens. Where to start?

First, attending the City's Comprehensive Plan Meeting this past Thursday was actually fun. Which is something I never thought I would find myself saying. I was never interested in politics or government in school. But I liked it, just like I like attending City Council meetings. It is interesting to see how the City works and the meeting on Thursday was even better. They were seeking public input for how the future of Salem should go. How cool is that?? We talked about things like more street-scaping, tighter form control on how new buildings should look, the possibility of a downtown grocery store or at least an upscale grocery store. It was really interesting!

Let's see .. what else?? Oh yea, the kids!!

Educationally speaking, Shannon's been working on his math skills. On his own. Still using beans to count. I'm impressed and proud.
Tristan has been working on letters and the sounds they make. His sense of humor often tops his desire to answer correctly. It's funny, and I am very glad he's not in school (same with Shannon) where this sense of humor would be quickly pounded out of him.

Non-educationally speaking, they're still boys. Here is the latest "You've got to be kidding me" moment:
We're at the local Burger King's indoor playground last Monday, meeting up with other homeschoolers to play inside since it was raining out. Usually the place is dead but this time it was packed, which was good since there were more kids to meet and play with.
Eventually though the boys declared that they both had to pee. In an effort to encourage them to be responsible on their own I've been letting them to go this particular bathroom on their own. I can see it from the room and feel safe. I tell Shannon to keep an eye on his brother, to watch out for him, and to make sure that they pee in a stall. I am not worried about them using a urinal except that, since they are still young they both just still drop drawers down to ankles. Not that I think perverts are lurking in all bathrooms but, till they learn to be more discreet using a stall is wiser for all. So, off they go.
A few minutes later and elderly employee pokes his head into the playroom. Remember, the room is FULL and I am sitting on the far side. He asks "Whose kids are in the bathroom?"
"Mine" I reply.
"You might want to come watch them and keep an eye on them" he says.
"Why, are they causing a problem?" I ask.
"They're in there NAKED" he replies laughing.
..... across the FULL room of parents. I get up, walk across the full room, into the restaurant area, across that, to the bathroom, and gently push the men's bathroom door open. There are my boys, fully dressed, finishing washing & drying off their hands like good little boys.
Shannon informed me that he used the stall but that Tristan refused and wanted to use the urinal. I know they both don't really know about shutting doors and privacy issues, they're little kids still.
Not really a big deal, just an embarrassing moment parenting-wise. Murphy's Law rears it's head once again.

And finally, around the ole urban homestead (which is a term I will continue to use).
Recent planting include a forsythia bush and a Black Knight Butterfly Bush. We put the forsythia in the corner of the fence nearest VL's house for several reasons. 1) It will block her view into our yard as it grows (which it should do quickly!). 2) Since she planted cypress trees along the fence line (also to block her view) this helps continue the theme of the living hedge/fence line, which I love. I hate our chain link fence and would love to have it hidden in something living and green. 3) I love forsythia bushes. Their bright and beautiful and a wonderful way to welcome Spring. 4) More wildlife!! ~ Talk about your win-win-win situations!!
The butterfly bush we planted on an edge of the deck, in between the steps and the fence/gate at the driveway. Again, as it grows it will help hide unseemly things, it will increase wildlife & beauty, and this variety is known for being fragrant, which should make hanging out on the deck more pleasant!
We took the pond out. The pump had been turned off over winter and the water had mostly been frozen. Of course, as soon as it unfroze the dogs took the opportunity to jump into the now-stagnant water. The smell was awful and required immediate baths for both dogs. Layla fits into the tub easily, but Foster is another situation entirely. A 10 1/2 month old English Mastiff, 136lbs, IN THE TUB .. getting a bath. It should've been a Marx Brothers or 3 Stooges comedy reel.
So the pond is out and is going to, for the time being, going to be a butterfly garden. I've signed up for Salem's "tulip list" once again. I'll also likely visit the VA's nursery to pick up some plants.
And .. plants!! We still haven't ordered seeds for the garden so, as usual, we're running behind on that task. But I will order them soon, and then we'll just have to figure out a way to keep the kids and dogs out of the seedlings so they can grow.

And there we go ... something other than chickens to talk about!

Meet Layla

2011-03-02T10:03:00.006-05:00

This is Layla. Layla Pillow to be precise, but to be honest she's also been lovingly nicknamed 'Piglet.' She was my Valentine's Day gift from Justin.

After my grandfather's funeral we were all up at his house and my cousin arrived with his English Bulldog, Lilly. Lilly had originally belonged to our uncle Chuck and so my cousin wanted them to have a chance to visit.
I love English Bulldogs. Always have. That was one reason we had gotten Jomo, because he had that bully breed (American Bulldog) in him. Seeing Lilly was too much for me. I walked inside and announced to everyone that I HAD to have an English Bulldog.
I signed up on rescue lists, thinking that I would rather have an adult than a pup given that we already have an enormous puppy, two little boys, and ourselves to deal with. I contacted breeders to see if they had any females they were ready to retire (or males, I wasn't terribly picky). I found a breeder who had one and I made arrangements to come meet & get her on a Thursday. The next day I got an email that they weren't ready to give her up just yet. They were waiting for her pup to sell, but they also had an older pup that needed to sell before they even listed her pup. It could all happen tomorrow but they didn't expect it to take more than 3 or 4 weeks.
So, I continued looking around. I found a 5 year old rescue bulldog down in North Carolina. At the same time, I happened to stumble onto Craigslist and saw someone locally wanting to re-home (don't you just love that term? It reeks of b.s) his 15 week old English Bulldog pup.
I talked to him on the phone. He told me he was "re-homing" her because he worked a day job & then nights he was a fireman. He and his wife/girlfriend/female (I don't remember & don't care) had just bought a house and the pup was in her crate all the time. He told me she was housebroken and that they had an appointment with the vet for her last set of puppy shots & her rabies shot already lined up. He said she came with her crate, bowls, food, toys, collar & leash.
I met him that day. Really, it wasn't a 5 minute drive from my house. The kids and my mom came out too to see what they thought. Instant love on their part. And, oh, were those puppy eyes big and sweet.
I began asking him questions. First he told me that he had gotten her from a lady named Sarah out in Gladys, VA. I asked if the lady had a kennel and he said no, that she had just bred them. He had met the mother & father though. As I stood there, petting the pup, I inquired what he knew about the general health of 'Sarah's' dogs, since English Bulldogs can be known for health problems. It was then he fessed up that she, the pup not Sarah, was 1/8 Boston Terrier. Papa was a full-blooded English Bulldog, Mama was 3/4 English Bulldog & 1/4 Boston Terrier. I almost walked away, but the pup was cute and he was willing to come down in price. So, we brought her home. I later asked him if he had 'Sarah's' phone number as I would like to see photos of the parents, he told me he thought he still had it and would try to find it. I've never heard back from him. When we bought her from him she came with her crate & toys. No bowls or food and he tried to keep the leash and collar, which I politely asked him for.
Within a couple days I had managed to track down the breeder. Her name was 'Lisa' not 'Sarah.' Yes, he had been out there and seen all her dogs. Yes, she owns a kennel! Yes, he knew all this because 1) he had only had the pup for a WEEK and 2) he had called her to let her know he wasn't going to keep her (gave her the same reasons he gave me)!!!! Also, no .. she wasn't 1/8 Boston Terrier, she is 1/4. The lady calls the breed an English Boston Bulldog and said that was how she had advertised them, so he knew full well what the pup was. Papa was pure English Bulldog, Mama was 1/2 English Bulldog & 1/2 Boston Terrier. I've since seen photos of both. Lisa asked how much I paid for the pup and I told her. He had been trying to sell her for the price he had bought her for and I had haggled him down. She said "Good for you! I hope that teaches him a lesson!" It also turns out he hadn't yet taken the pup to the vet. So, for whatever reason (hopefully a benign one of being a young fool) he was a lying bastard. I guess that's what you get when you venture onto Craigslist.
Layla has now been to the vet. She's in great health. The vet said she would've believed she was full English Bulldog too. Her breathing is fantastic, heart is too. She went on about what a gorgeous pup she was and then gave her all her shots.
And, just for the record, that older bulldog down in North Carolina that we had been considering has a new home too. My mother adopted her. We all drove down there (Layla too!) to get her. We couldn't bear the thought of her having to stay in a kennel one day longer. Now Mom's Standard Poodle, Anya, has a friend too.

So, now we have a new pup. I still just call her a Bulldog, or an English Bulldog, though I'll admit to her Boston roots too. I'm just Southern that way.
Foster is in LOVE. Absolute heavenly love. He plays and plays and plays with her. Or at least tries to. She is 25 pounds and comes up mid-shin, he is 136 pounds and comes up to my hip (and I'm nearly 6' tall myself). He kinda runs circles around her. But he plays gently, as English Mastiffs are known to do. She keeps him in line. They are best of buds now.

More stories to come ...

Lost & Broken ..

2011-02-24T12:34:00.004-05:00

My world is shattered and broken
into a million little pieces.
Life still goes on
from day to day progressing
and yet
inside
I am lost.

There aren't many people I truly look up at and admire. I mean, truly from the depth of my being look up to with respect and admiration. My grandparents were among the people that I did look up to like that though.
On Monday February 7th my grandfather, Dandaddy, was found by his housekeeper. Sometime late Saturday night (the 5th) he had gotten up, gone into his bathroom, and killed himself. My mother called Justin who came home and broke the news to me. I rushed over to his house, where my Mom and other family members were, while Justin stayed at home and watched the kids.
I actually admire him for ending his life. My grandmother, Baba, died of Alzheimer's. It took her so many years before she finally died, many years where she just laid there a shell of her former self. My step-grandmother, Evelyn, died of cancer. Thankfully that went quickly. Then my Uncle Jimmy, the oldest of the siblings, passed away last Fall due to a form of dementia that (I think) developed into Alzheimer's. No man should have to bury so many loved ones. No man should have to bury his own child.
Dandaddy was lonely. He had lived a full life, come to terms with death and was ready to die. That much he said a couple years back and had repeated a couple times since. His body was beginning to fail him though his mind was sharp. I can't begin to image how awful it must be to come to that point where you are at peace with death but yet have to continue to live on for years as your body begins to fail you, yet your mind remains sharp.
So I admire him for the strength and courage he showed. I know he wasn't sad when he did it, I know he was likely angry at his body for failing him. I admire his courage to say "fuck it" and do what he did.
But to say I am lost is beyond words. I am lost without his smile. His hugs. The number one priority in his life was family and I am simply lost now.

Since his death things have headed downhill some. Justin's grandfather has leukemia. I don't know many details but I know he's in pain. And my heart breaks all over again.

There are other things too, but suddenly it feels inappropriate to write about them here. As much as they hurt me, to compare them to family is nonsensical.

My mind is full of questions
and my heart is full of pain.
I am not certain where my path is headed
or even where my next step is.
Broken and lost I will carry on
until ...

Until when?
When the path becomes clear once again?
When the fog lifts?
When the happiness of today
replaces the sorry of yesterday?
When a Spirit comes to guide me through
the briars and thorns and
back to the meadow?

I don't know.
Maybe just UNTIL.

Battle of Wills

2011-02-03T12:18:00.003-05:00

Parenting moments are wonderful. They are full of these battle of wills. If you're a strong-willed person, and especially if your kids' other biological parent is a strong-willed person, it is very likely that you have one helluva strong-willed kid.
Which is kind of a silly statement to make since I firmly believe that most all people would consider themselves strong-willed about one thing or another. I mean, someone comes up to you and asks "May I kill you?" You say "no." They start pestering you about it, asking if you're really sure about that, you hold firm and say "no." ~ See, strong-willed! And the person who gave in and said yes?? Proof of Darwinism or something?? But I digress.

Battle of wills in parenting worlds are amazing. It's amazing what you will lock horns over. What initiates that inevitable Mexican Stand Off.
And these stand offs aren't just any stand off. They're EPIC. Your hold world suddenly is careening out of control as you try to hold your ground on this ONE ISSUE!!!

Today's Battle of Wills is happily brought to you by the most terrifying & trouble-making source in your entire house ..... the toilet.

The toilet is evil. It alone is EPIC. It is Kilimanjaro. It is hundreds of dollars spent on how to use the damn thing. Libraries created for this sole purpose, dolls to re-enact the act, videos to show how happy it is, therapy sessions later to console the now grown child over that horrific time in his life.

My kids will use the toilet. We are past that battle. But Tristan, ahh Tristan, Tristan is locking his horns with me over wiping himself. Tristan, although he desperately wants to be a big boy and do big boy things, is just as desperately clinging to the role of 'baby of the family.' I mean, that's HIS role. It's HIS THING man!!!

And so we stand. Well, actually he's more sitting and I'm standing in the doorway. But we've got our stances wide ala John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and all other serious guys who are just made for battles of wills and standing their ground.

Tristan refuses to wipe himself. I inform him that he can do it, that I've seen him do it, and so therefore, he can do it again and I will be oh so proud of him for being such a big boy.
He informs he he can't because he thinks he has a little diarrhea. (Yea, I'm writing about this. It's part of being a parent, deal with it)
I check, he doesn't, and so I inform him of this. Then I tell him that even if he DID have it, because he's still insisting that he does, he can still wipe his own butt. It's just the same thing.
He refuses.
I inform him that, fine, he can just sit there all day.

Now here is where my day steps in and says "REALLY????" Because I have somewhere I have to be at 1pm. And even though this battle of wills started at noon the countdown is louder than ever in my head.
The errand I need to run is literally a block away. I could literally be back in approximately 5 minutes.
Do I leave him here, sitting on the toilet?? I mean, if he's on the toilet, what could happen to him?? He decides to wipe and get off the toilet?? He decides to rub the nasties all over the wall?? A kid-eating alligator suddenly comes up from the pipes and snatches him, butt unwiped and all from the toilet, dragging my poor baby down into the depths of the sewer never to be heard from again (but sure to live on in infamous lore)???
Should I leave the 7 year old here with him? Well, that would be an obvious yes. Just in case that alligator showed up.
I could just wipe him, but then he knows I can be waited out till he gets his way. And let's face it, he's just sitting there.

So, I think fast. The dog loves to check on Tristan so I put the dog in the bathroom with him. That should get him wanting to leave the toilet!!!
Of course the dog isn't willing to cooperate and doesn't see what epic proportions this battle has reached. He is more interested in the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and the fresh loaf of bread that are all sitting on the kitchen counter. He sits at the bathroom door and whines to be let out.
Instead of Tristan screaming about Foster being near him he is hollering at me that Foster wants out.
Cussing under my breath (that's a change for the better there folks, isn't it??) I let the dog out.

Time is ticking away. I have no allies to call in. I go back in there, leaning against the towels several feet away from him. I explain the process once more. I refuse to do it for him. I assure him that he can do it.

And he does.

I emerge from the bathroom exhausted. It could've been days, time has come to a stand still. The clock that has been so loudly ticking down has suddenly stopped like the bombs in the movie with 2 seconds left before life as we know it is over.

The war of the toilet is not over. But today's battle has been won. I have earned another parenting medal and my child has earned another badge of honor: he can do it and I can let him do it. We are both winners.

It was epically awesome.

To the Doctor!

2011-01-19T19:51:00.004-05:00

Tristan woke up in the middle of the night last night claiming his ear hurt. We gave him some Tylenol and hoped he had just slept on it wrong. My gut told me this wasn't the case, but I remained hopeful. Sure enough, his ear hurt worse this morning. So I made the dreaded call to the doctor's office to get him an appointment.

We got there and waited. Luckily there weren't that many kids there and I think we only had to wait 4 hours instead of the usual 4 days. Or so the kids seemed to think of the wait.
We got into the examining room and waited. The kids read books and complained. At the same time .. they're multi-talented like that.

Our beloved doctor finally came in. He was the pediatrician to both myself and Justin along with our siblings and my cousins. I don't always agree with him but I trust him.
He began looking Tristan over. It was an ear infection. Left ear was nasty and right ear was getting it too. There could have been no infection yesterday morning, this was a quick acting, nasty little bug. He patted Tristan on the belly and announced that he "has the crud."
He looked at me and asked if he'd been sick. I told him he'd had a cold and was taking a while to fight it completely off. He's like me, things can linger. He looked at me and asked how long he'd had it.
"I dunno, a while?"
"How long?"
"A couple of weeks?"

I hate that look. I really hate that look. It's that look that says "What kind of mother are you that you let your child be sick for weeks and didn't bring him to the doctor?!?" ... Um .. because he wasn't really sick the whole time??
That look says he doesn't believe me. I hate that look.

About the time that Tristan was 7 months old he had gotten a bad diaper rash which meant I had to go to the doctor.
It was a bad day from the beginning. He had peed through his cloth diaper the night before and I had bathed him clean in the sink. Apparently though I didn't get his head well enough and by the end of the day he .. well, smelled like a pee-head.
The appointment was late in the day, meaning we had a long, long wait. He was hungry, not feeling too happy, and whiny ~ it was the international melt-down hour. My pee-head son was NOT his happy-go-lucky self.

The nurse called us back and we went into the examining room. I had to undress him down to his diaper to be weighed and measured. I took him to the scales. Pee-head sat there a little more content. It was then the nurse noticed the scabby-like marks on his back.
"WHAT ARE THESE!?!?"
"Bite marks??"
~umm .. I think she about fell over at this point. I'm pretty certain her mouth did hit the floor and her eyes popped out of her skull~
"Look, he has an older brother who is 2 1/2. He keeps biting him. We're working on getting him to stop" I tried reassuring her and explaining the true situation to her.
"Oh. Yea, I had a biter too." Now she was talking to me like the mom she truly was.

So we go back into the room and wait for the doctor. Not our beloved doctor, another doc we'd never seen who was on call and seeing people who were making the last minute appointments.
He came in and looked the diaper rash over.
"How long has he had the rash?"
"Well, he's had the rash for a while, but it started getting worse so I brought him in."
"How long has he had it??"
"I dunno, a week or two??"
There was that damn look again.
And my kid had healing bite marks on his back.
And he had Pee-Head.
And, as the doctor soon told me, he had a "regular" diaper rash that had then gotten infected. He gave me a prescription for some cream. I went out of there, my little Pee-Head tightly in my arms, as quickly as I could. I was certain they would call Social Services.

I hate those damn looks. I don't like running to the doctor immediately over every little thing. Which means we give things the unthinkable .. TIME to heal on their own (or with a little a little over the counter medicine, etc). But, when I finally take him into the doc, they give me that damn look. I also NEVER know the EXACT moment my kids get sick. Sorry, but I don't keep that stuff jotted down.

I hate that damn look.

Husbands & Wives & Married Lives OR Gorillas & Geese & How they Co-Exeest

2011-01-18T19:25:00.010-05:00

Our oldest son turned 7 last week. This was the first year we held his birthday somewhere other than home (or a relative's house). He had a pirate-themed pool party at the Y. We were REALLY limited on how many people we could invite and so we opted to have a 'Family Only' pizza party later that night.
It was during his party that I realized something.

I'm sure this really comes as no shock to couples that have been married decades, but it really hit home to me during this party at the Y.

It started when we decided it was time for cake. I was going to be the one lighting the candle & presenting the cake, but first the kids needed to be rounded up & put in chairs. I asked Justin to help.

See the confused question mark?? It sounds like a simple request doesn't it? This is about the time I began coming to my above stated conclusion.

What he really heard out of me was this. I had to repeat my request a couple of times while he stood there looking at me like I was honestly just squawking and quacking at him. Finally it seemed to translate. Either that or the kids had heard me repeat the request enough that they finally went and sat down. ~ This may have been his agenda all along. I think I have just discovered something else.

I had to tell him that my mother wasn't going to magically appear and handle these things, that I needed him to step up. I got another ape-look from him.
I began trying to cut the cake and again asked him for help. I reminded him again that my mother wasn't going to magically appear. Same ape-look. He finally told me that "that's why the other ladies are here." ~ Yes, he really DID say that.
As if on cue, some of the other mothers came into the kitchen, one after another to help me. The first came in and I thanked her and griped about my husband's inability to realize that he should be helping. The second mother came in and immediately asked if anyone else's husband was driving them up the wall because hers sure was.
It was then that I totally got that expression about women being like a gaggle of geese. We worked together getting the cake and ice cream out to everyone all the while squawking about our husbands when we were in the kitchen.

We managed to make it through cake, ice cream, and presents and to the pool. It was there that I realized that most ALL marriages are comprised of a gorilla and a goose.
We were sitting around the pool, some of us in it with the kids and some sitting on the edge relaxing. One of the other mothers was watching her husband in the pool with their toddler. He was letting the boy stand alone in the water and she was worried that he would/could easily fall into the water and go under. She began calling to him to please hold onto the baby. That the baby was in the water and could fall. That the baby was too young to be standing alone like that. Her husband just looked back at her with a big, goofy grin on his face.
Being married to a gorilla myself and being able to view the situation (as opposed to being in it) I immediately realized what he was thinking.

He had told me earlier that his job was to keep the baby from drowning. I'm pretty sure all he heard from her, at least given his big grin, was that he was doing a good job keeping the baby from drowning.

It's all about Gorillas & Geese and How they Co-exeest. ~ Yes, I know it is a typo. I'm trying to rhyme so quit being a douche.

Kid Stuff & Being a Mom

2011-01-11T11:11:00.004-05:00

There are definite "you know you're a Mom when" moments.

Like when you find yourself at the end of your rope, mad with despair, cursing to yourself "who keeps putting my spoon in with the other spoons?!?!" .. and you're dead serious. Damnit, don't they know my tea spoon doesn't go in with the other spoons??? I am trying to seek my almighty moment of Zen, I'm being good and not drinking coffee (or rum), so where the hell is my tea spoon?!?!??!

Yea .. that was definitely a moment.

Not all moments induce such madness. Sometimes you have to learn to laugh at it. Like when you walk past your kids' room as see this

and it isn't even 9:30 in the morning yet. Actually, I snapped this photo and sent a copy of it to Justin, with the message of how I know he doesn't think I make the kids clean up at all during the day .. so here. He was shocked and wanted to know when the photo was taken. I told him that not only was that mess done this morning but that yesterday they made a mess of that equivalence a couple times over. ~ They have to clean up for lunch so that gives them plenty of chances to try and out-do their morning mess level later in the day.
I laughed about this one. They did clean it all up before lunch.

I happened to be walking by the living room yesterday morning and overheard this from Shannon - Tristan, see these towers I'm building?? When you see these towers Tristan you're eyes are gonna SPARKLE!!! And you're gonna say "Who built these towers" (my note, he said that in a voice filled with awe .. no joke) and I'm gonna say "I just can't bear to tell you." (my note again, that one was said like it was the heaviest of burdens)
He kept repeating this over and over to Tristan.

And then some afternoons, as I am trying to get dinner ready, scenes like this occur:

4pm - Shannon, with great pride - Mommy, see what I can do with Foster! (sets rope toy on table) - Ok Foster, I'm not going to give you your treat yet. (begins gently pulling dog's tail around the dog, making dog chase his tail) See Mommy, I can make him chase his tail!! Ok Foster, now you can have your treat. - (to me) Sometimes he chases his tail himself and sometimes he needs help chasing his tail.

-5:20pm - I am beginning to make dinner. Tristan opens the cabinet doors beneath the sink, looks in & asks "How come that leads to the basement??" (it doesn't), Foster leans in and looks too, apparently wondering the same thing.

OK.

Or I turn around to see a battle scarred cowboy straddling a butter knife next to a severed foot on my kitchen island. You think I am joking. I'm not.

And you just sigh....

Tales of the Sleepy Husband

2011-01-06T09:09:00.003-05:00

The Saga Continues.

I come to bed. Justin is out cold, still wearing his pants. Here is how the conversation went:

Me, probably had to smack him a bit to get him to wake up enough to hear me: You fell asleep with your pants on.

Justin: We laid the fart down on the way in.

Me, apparently not too amused: Well, take off your pants!

Justin: Not me, but SPARTAN.

uh-huh.....

Wishes for 2011

2011-01-04T10:05:00.003-05:00

Inspired by Ms.Eleneaous' recent wish list blog and other wishes for the New Year that I've seen from people far more talented than myself, I have decided to share my wishes, dreams, and resolutions for 2011. Written in no particular order.

2011:

*Alaska - I have no photo to put here, but I will share this link: http://www.wildnatureimages.com/Alaska.htm ~ Alaska decided to call to me the other day. At first I thought it was just a passing fancy, but it called twice in one day so I got the hint. I am going to Alaska. I am not sure when yet, as soon as the universe decides. I've put the request out there and am waiting to hear back.
Ironically enough Texas called to me last year, maybe the year before. I didn't want to go there, but I absorbed a lot from the calls sent. I think that was more about personality than anything else. But Alaska has called and demanded a visit, so I must heed that.

*Longwood Park - I blogged in March about Longwood Park and the trees that call to me. http://thebluenymph.blogspot.com/2010/03/longwood-park.html - I never got my quilt for spreading out under those trees. I will this year. Soon. And we will spend afternoons there.

*Unschooling Out & About - Having two children, having two boys, and being exceptionally frugal (aka - fairly broke) I am filled with good-spirited envy & longing when I see people getting to homeschool at places like local coffee shops. I won't spend money like that on coffee, and my boys wouldn't exactly be a good suit for such a spot. But I will resolve to trying to get out and about with the boys with more intention. Of course, without thinking about it we are out and about a lot, unschooling as we go. I would just like to give some of those excursions more intent and purpose. Perhaps taking books with us to Longwood Park to be read under those trees as we lounge on the blanket?

*A Pub - Proper European style that I've never been to in reality and so am just imagining in my mind. As I wrote that last wish above I realized that I would go into a pub and order a beer and hang out with my boys while they did a little learnin'. The pub I refer to in my mind is more of a local gathering spot and less of a alcoholics-only club. Newspapers on tables. People of all ages. Good fish & chips. Men in warm knit Irish sweaters. (Yea, the pub in my mind is also Irish) Good beer on tap. Craft-brewed beer. And some board games set up on a nice barrel or something - at least checkers.

*Quiet Mornings To Myself - I am close to achieving this one, if only because I only mandate being dressed before lunch thereby extending the morning out until .. well, lunch. Shannon has always been good about entertaining himself (why unschooling works so well) and is in fact busy doing crafts as I type this. Tristan is playing on the computer. There are a couple of sites we let them play on, ones that mix education and fun. Aside from the occasional call for me to help him, he will keep himself busy with that for a while.

*A Brewery Trip - Justin and I are overdo for another brewery trip. This could go hand-in-hand with my pending trip to Alaska, but it might also have to be a separate trip.

*A Flourishing Garden - 'nuff said

*Passenger Rail Service to the entire Roanoke Valley - Ms.Eleneaous put that one out there and I will second it. We sorely need it. I dream of being able to take day trips with the kids to D.C. without having to drive. ~ I will add the requisite of a perfect train station too. Old-timey feel, lots of real wood fixtures & furnishings, and a bakery/coffee shop inside that is NOT a chain location but that does also have some nice to-go lunches (sandwiches, etc) available for travelers.

*More Road Trips - We used to just get in the car and go wandering about. The economic plunge stopped that real quick. I think it is time to bring it back. Even if I just have to budget it in there (which takes out some of the magic but might just have to be a practical reality). We will pack a cooler and the Longwood Park Quilt. We may take the dog, as long as he doesn't eat the cooler & Longwood Park Quilt along the way. We will set aside a little money for the small stores we may wander into. Not a requirement for all trips but just in case. Finding small stores does help keep the magic alive.

*More Laughter & Love - Things you can never have enough of.

*Real Food - The delicious healing power of real food. We should always wish for such sumptuous things, and I wish it not just for myself and my family but for all of you. We all should wish for such decadent delights and true food. ~ And on that note, we will be trying our hand at cheesemaking beginning this week. We've made a delicious soft herbed cheese before, though I can't remember the recipe and it was a couple of years ago when we made it. But we bought a highly recommended book full of recipes and inspiration and we will set forth on this journey soon. (Keep an eye on www.mamataneyskitchen.blogspot.com for cheesy posts!)

*A VW Westy - Running, with a pop-top, & the rest of it too, in good shape. For camping excrusions and general road trips.

There are likely some more things I could list, but it is lunch time. Time to get dressed. Time to make the boys some real food to eat. Then it will be time for naps. And I am beginning to think all my dreams have come true.

Tales of the Sleepy Husband

2011-01-03T09:25:00.004-05:00

PROLOGUE

(warning: for those faint of ear or delicate in nature, you may not want to read these stories)

My darling husband has a very well-known reputation for passing out. Hard. This doesn't just occur when he's been drinking either, though it is true that the most notorious of tales to come to pass after a night of imbibing various concoctions.
We began our journey together as good friends. Immediately very close, Justin would often crash at my place 5 nights out of the week, either on the couch or in the second bedroom. Spending so much time with him allowed me to learn his mannerisms better than anyone else. It allowed my a chance to get to know how to deal with him when he passed out.

Lest you think I am by nature mean and evil, out to take advantage of a poor passed out fellow, let me give a little more detail. When Justin begins nodding off his eyes will close and his head will bob. He will suddenly jerk back to life and say something random with great emphasis. Which if you know Justin you will know is a sign of something as he is normally a quiet chap.
Once he is out, you can have your way with him.

When we were just friends the most I would ever do during these nodding off times was remove his keys from his pockets. We had a deal: if I could get his keys out of his pants pockets then he would admit he was too drunk to drive. *Safety First Y'all*

When we became a couple it became more of an issue to me to try and make sure he made it to bed. Why not let him just stay where he lay?? Well, he also had a little habit of getting up, wandering to another room, and .. well .. taking a piss. This is something that is rather humorous when you're not in a relationship with the person, but when you are and you are faced with having to clean up the mess .. well, a little bit of the humor tends to fade away. (In all fairness to him, it has been many years since he has done this, and it didn't happen all that often. But a couple times can still be a couple times too many)
He also was known to wake up and decide that he needed another drink or worse, that he was hungry. Bowls and plates of random foods would await me in the morning: ranch dip & veggies left out, cheese balls and chili, random Mexican-esque food concoctions (which sadly resemble what you might buy at most Mexican-esque restaurants), a pot of mac & cheese on the stove, or just noodles, cooked & forgotten about.
Getting him to bed was just much easier.
So, I would approach his passed-out ass and try to wake him to go to bed.

"Honey" I would nudge him gently.

No response.

"Justin, you've passed out, it's bed time." I would nudge him some more.

No response.

"JUSTIN!!!"

No response.

"JUSTIN, WAKE-UP DAMMIT!!!" I am yelling and shaking him.

No response.

I hold his nose shut. His mouth drops open .. he has out-smarted me. I give him a wet willy.

He wakes up and yells at me that he is NOT passed out.

And then promptly passes back out on the couch with the dog.

To wake him up, and I swear I really tried everything else first, I have to slap him as hard as I can across the face. I swear that this is the only way to get him to even BEGIN waking up enough to go to bed. I have witnesses to this fact. Several.

Once he gets to bed he often talks. Randomly. Very randomly. Back when we were just friends I walked out into the living room late one night/early one morning. He was passed out on the couch. I heard him giggling. And I mean school-girl giggling. In his sleep. Suddenly he said "pussy" and then began giggling like a little school-girl again, and then fell back into his deep slumber.

And so this is how the Tales of the Sleepy Husband have come to pass. When you see photos of him dick-faced (drawn on) know that rules apply: 1)he didn't go to bed, 2)I gave him warnings that he was falling asleep and needed to go to bed or else would be dick-faced, & 3)he didn't go to bed.
Mostly though these will be tales of the random things that come falling out of his mouth. I've taken to keeping a notebook and pen beside the bed for just these moments. Much to his dismay I've also taken to video taping some of these ... but for now I will likely be kind enough to not share those.

This will be an ongoing series of tales until someone pays me mightily to put them all together in a book.

Winter Morning Ritual

2010-12-29T09:04:00.002-05:00

I am up earlier than usual this morning, pushed out of bed by a desire to get bread started so that it might be ready for lunch. Sourdough bread made with flour from the local mill, kefir grains, raw milk and flax seed. It is in the oven, rising, right now.

Winter mornings are a true delight for me. The chickens have made this so. Without them I might have missed something that now is truly a highlight of my day.
The chickens' water freezes in the cold weather and therefore must be changed daily (sometimes twice a day). This is why I must go outside in the mornings. Not going isn't an option, they have to have fresh water.

And so I step out onto my deck in temperatures that are below freezing. I am wearing my pajamas. Flannel pants and an old, old sweatshirt that I snagged years ago from my father. Now that I have dreads I sleep with them in a bun high on top of my head, and so there they are as I step outside, my neck exposed to the wind and cold. I wear whatever shoes I can slip on and are "weather appropriate" ~ which pretty much means will they let snow immediately through or will they keep my feet & ankles dry? My hands are bare.

The metal watering can is cold to the touch. We have two of these. One is in the chicken coop and one is in the laundry room, thawing out. We swap them every morning. This morning it needed filling, so I performed this act on the deck, hauling water out from the bathroom inside.

The sun is rising and the shades of blue in the sky get progressively lighter, accentuated with streaks of blazing pinks and oranges.
The cold air surrounds me. I feel like I've taken a dip in a pool, but I can breathe this coolness in and it fills me. I feel my cheeks turning rosy, my skin tightening. I feel refreshed and alive.

I walk down to the chickens' Winter Chalet and swap out the watering cans. They are grateful. They are impatient for more food, which I oblige them with. They crowd around it and I am reminded of the pecking order in life as the Queen chickens refuse to allow the other ones to eat immediately.
I check the coop, topping the nest boxes with a little bit of fresh straw. I retrieve a green egg from one of the nest boxes. The chickens have begun laying again after their Fall molt. The egg is already cold. I will go back outside several more times before noon, checking for eggs. There is simply nothing quite like the experience of being able to collect a freshly laid egg out of a nest box. It is warm, nearly hot. If the hen has just laid it, it will sometimes still be damp from the process. Even if it has already dried, it will be warm. And that warmth pulses with energy. As a woman I feel so incredibly connected with this.

Sometimes I will stand on the deck for a while. Neighbors are rarely out, though I might wave to my next door neighbor as they begin their morning.
I listen to the dogs around the neighborhood bark. Watch the sky as it changes color. Watch Foster as he watches me. Watch birds that fly in swarms and make Winter trees beat with life.
I breathe deeply. All this cool air filling my lungs and awakening my body. I talk with the Universe.

When I go back inside I take my shower and then make myself a mug of warm ginger tea with honey. As the tea cools I get dressed. I come back to the mug and feel the warmth of the tea spread through me like the light of the sun spreading across the sky. Those fiery pinks and oranges.

This is my morning ritual in Winter.

The Totem Pole

2010-12-28T09:11:00.009-05:00

In the animal world, or at least the canine & chicken world, there is a definite pecking order, a totem pole of how the animals view the alpha order of the pack. This is a record of Foster's view of our pack.

Top of the Totem: Mommy

~ I am pretty certain this is similar to how I look to the dog.~

Mommy has secured her place at the top of the totem pole. She is MOMMY and she is to be obeyed, at least most of the time. That would be a similar view point the kids hold as well.
However, since I am still a puppy I still want Mommy's undivided attention. No-one else may love on Mommy because Mommy loves only me. If someone else tries to love on Mommy then I must throw a fit and try to get Mommy's attention by biting at her. I am a Mommy's boy.
Mommy also gives me more treats than Daddy, including knowing that I like extra goodies in with my meals.

Next on the Totem Pole: Daddy

Daddy ranks #2 on the Totem Pole. See how serious and mean he looks?? He doesn't let me on the bed. He doesn't give me treats on my food. I don't bring him toys. I still love him though.
I've even been practicing how to sit on the couch like Daddy. He used to not let me do this, but now that I'm learning to get my butt fully on there (with my front paws on the floor) he seems to like it.
Daddy sometimes likes to think he is head of the totem pole but we all know that Mommy rules the roost.

Up Next: THE PUPPIES

There are three puppies in our house. Here is the order in which I see them.

Head Puppy: ME!

Of course I am HEAD PUPPY. The other puppies don't know how to be head puppy. I have to tell them what to do. I don't think it is fair that the other puppies get to be on the bed and I don't though. That is just wrong.

Middle Puppy: Shannon

Shannon sometimes thinks he is head puppy and sometimes he thinks he is the baby. This makes him Middle Puppy. I think Shannon needs to be taught how to behave properly and, as head puppy, it is my job to teach him. Shannon doesn't like this. Neither does Mommy. Or Daddy. They just don't know that, as Head Puppy, I HAVE to do this. See how silly he acts?? He is not acting like a proper Mastiff.
He does help Mommy out though. Today he even held our pet rabbit Logan after he finished giving her food. Of course I had to make sure he held her properly so I stayed nearby, nosing at Logan to make sure she was held securely.
I like Shannon though. He has cool toys. He has legos and cars and trains and trucks. I like playing with them. But Shannon acts like a baby and cries when I try to. I just don't get it, but I do know this is another reason why he can't be head puppy.

And Finally, the Baby Puppy: Tristan

Tristan is the baby puppy. See how he has stuff in his mouth?? I do that too but I get scolded for it. Tristan gets scolded too, but he still does it.
Since Tristan is the baby puppy it is my upmost responsibility, as Head Puppy of course, to make sure he is ok. When he walks through the house I have to make sure he doesn't fall over, so I have to constantly wrap myself around him and lean against him, securing him with my strength. I do such a good job of this that he usually stops in his tracks and yells for Mommy or Daddy to come help him walk. Babies don't know how to walk on their own.
When Tristan climbs onto Mommy and Daddy's bed I really worry about him. I have to nose at him to make sure he gets up there, sometimes even guide his feet with my mouth. He doesn't appreciate this. Babies rarely appreciate all the things you do to keep them safe. Mommy doesn't always appreciate it either and sometimes yells at me for it. She yells at Shannon when he tries to help out sometimes too. Mommy is a little crazy.
I also have to make sure he is tucked in securely when he goes to bed for naps and at night. I nose him all over. He sure must be fussy at bed time because he tends to cry about this. I guess he is just tired. Babies get tired easily and they cry when they're tired. It's ok, as Head Puppy I understand these things.
Tristan has lots of neat toys too. He has stuffed animals that I really like, including a little stuffed dog. He has cars and trains and toys like Shannon's too. And, like Shannon, he acts like a baby when I try to play with them. They don't like sharing their toys with me, this is why I am Head Puppy and they're the babies.

This is my family. I love them a lot.

A Magical Yule Beginning

2010-12-21T09:32:00.004-05:00

Unless you live under a rock you are aware of the total Lunar Eclipse that occurred in the wee hours of the morning, which is also the Winter Solstice. This hasn't happened in 372 years (1638) and won't happen again until 2094. Since you are reading this, you obviously don't live under a rock (and if you do, I am very impressed by your wireless server!).

The boys and I spent yesterday learning a little bit about lunar eclipses. Basically they learned that it is caused by the Earth casting a shadow on the Moon because the Earth is between the Sun & Moon. Shannon will be 7 in January & Tristan is 4 1/2. I don't expect them to grasp much more of this, especially since I had to look up the info to be certain of what I was telling them.
We also talked about how long it has been since the last total Lunar Eclipse occurred on the Winter Solstice and how long it will be until the next one. I told them that, if they're lucky, they might be alive to view the next one. I tried to explain why Justin & I wouldn't and how nobody on our planet now was alive for the last one. Those were more difficult concepts for them to grasp.

Shannon found a scrap piece of paper yesterday and created this for me, without me being near/over him or knowing what he was creating. This is what I love about homeschooling & unschooling.

We went outside last night, and like so many people saw only clouds. Although we would've love to seen the actually Moon & eclipse, we weren't saddened. We still woke up the boys and, with them in our arms, wandered out onto our deck to gaze at the reddish sky for a while. It was beautiful. Magical. Dark. Softly glowing red. The air filled our lungs and bodies. We knew so many other people were outside, gazing up with us, and we felt connected to them all. A sense of awe spread through us. We felt loved and whole.

I am saddened to read comments on Facebook this morning of disgruntled people who also saw the clouds but didn't see the beauty. There is a saying 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' and I suppose this holds true now. You can look upwards and still not see the beauty.

The Winter Solstice also marks the beginning of Yule. Different people celebrate this in different ways. It is an ancient celebration that has, like so many other ancient ways, been melded into modern celebrations. From now until the 1st of January will be the 12 days of the Yule celebration, more commonly now known as the 12 days of Christmas.

Holiday songs fill my head right now. Particularly I have James Taylor singing 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' playing in my head. I will share it with you.

Whatever you choose to celebrate, if you choose to celebrate, know that we are all connected. As we stood outside and breathed in the night air, we felt our breathes in sync with all of you.

Happy Yule Y'all.

Foster the 8 month old Mastiff

2010-12-20T10:01:00.007-05:00

~Hello, I'm only 8 months old. I am still growing & will get a lot bigger!!~

Foster is our first English Mastiff. I grew up with St. Bernards but, let's be honest, my mother was the one really raising them, I just lived in the house with them. Raising a giant breed dog, no matter how much we love him, comes with it's unique "challenges."

Let's start with the basic stats:
*At 7 weeks old (when we got him) he weighed 17lbs.
*At 8 months old he weighs 114lbs. -- Yea, he's put on almost 100lbs in 6 months.
*Height from the floor to his shoulder ~ roughly 29". It's a little hard to measure accurately when he keeps turning around and trying to chew on the measuring tape.

Your puppy plays with tennis balls, ours like to drag pumpkins around the yard. The sizes range from a nice cantaloupe size to as big as a basketball. Oh yea, he also likes basketballs and soccer balls. Actually, he prefers soccer balls. It must be the English in him.

Foster likes chasing his tail. He LOVES it. That would be a fine thing usually. It would be a fine, self-sustaining activity. And, to some degree it is. Except Foster likes to be close to you. And when that mouth comes around, regardless of it chasing the tail & nothing else, and it grazes your knee instead ... well, needless to say you might just think JAWS swam by. Luckily his adult teeth have pretty much grown in, so your knee doesn't actually look like JAWS has been there. But still, cuss words tend to quickly fly.

He also doesn't seem to realize how big his body is in proportion the the room that he is in. He spins around and whacks his head on the edge of the kitchen island (you can see a corner in the photo above), and repeatedly knocks his noggin on the underside of tables.
Having survived almost 7 years of Shannon I am ready to respond to the WHAMS!! with 911 or at least a quick call to the emergency vet. Surely, his head must be split open. It hasn't been. He seems unfazed. I am amazed. I look at him in awe. He looks at me with those big brown eyes, unfazed and curious as to why my jaw is dropped.

We have a rule about no dogs on the bed. Ironically enough, I'm allergic to dogs (and cats, and so on). However, the allergies don't normally bother me. It is when they're allowed on the bed and near my pillow that I begin to not be able to breathe. So .. no dogs allowed on the bed.
There is a minor exception, we've always allowed them to put their front paws on the bed and say "hello." In fact, after Jomo passed that was what I missed so much - being able to wake up to a friendly face, waiting to be petted. So, Foster is allowed to put his two front paws on the bed.
Of course, this isn't a little dog. This is a dog who can stand on the floor at the right hand side of the bed and reach me ... with his paws .. and his head .. far .. far away .. on the left side of the bed. On the left EDGE of the bed.
If I've rolled over to nuzzle on Justin's side I'd better watch out. I've nearly woken up to black eyes a couple of times, paws whapping me in the face. He also has figured out about blankets ~ you know .. there may be people under them. That's ok, just start nosing around till you get your cold, wet nose & slobbery jaws under there.

Typical of Mastiffs, he sleeps a lot. Which is wonderful. We can sit around the living room in the evening, with him snoozing away soundly. And loudly. Mastiffs snore. And .... well, with a lot of aroma. Foster is a gas-bag. We actually bought some digestive enzymes to help decrease the nuclear attacks of farts (it worked some). Of course, he also likes to sleep under feet. And, if you've decided to raise your feet in the recliner, that's ok. He'll just sleep under that. Of course, if you want to get up ... you better be a yogi or gymnast.

And, when he isn't asleep, he is always on guard, also typical of Mastiffs. Apparently there is a reason we should all be on edge. There is this other Mastiff that, from time to time, goes and stands outside our living room window. It's amazing .. it looks just like Foster. And it only seems to appear in the window when Foster is looking out!! IT MUST NOT BE TRUSTED!!! We must growl at it to let it know it better not try to enter. And .. sometimes, these things appear above this other Mastiff's head. Weird floating hands. I mean, how can you possibly not go nuts over this!?!?! RED ALERT FOLKS, RED ALERT!!!!
Luckily, he hasn't gone through the window yet after this dastardly other Mastiff.

The rest of it all is standard stuff. You know, a 114 (and growing) pound dog that is timid about going out into the yard ... in the rain .. in the snow .. at night. Any of that.
And he likes to cuddle. In fact I think he thinks he might be a lap dog. A large, slobbery lap dog.
Speaking of slobber, our island was sporting a rather nice, several inch long, slobber-cicle last night.

Just part of another day with a Mastiff pup.

Why are you shocked?

2010-12-13T16:52:00.006-05:00

A local incident has gathered nationwide media attention when a young girl went missing recently. She was safely found on the opposite coast. When she went missing Amber Alerts went out and her photo went up. She is 12 and looks much older. A lot of people have started talking for that reason. They are shocked.

I am NOT writing about just this girl in general here. I am deliberately not using her name for that very reason. This is by no means commentary on this personal girl. It is just something that many people are aware of and talking about & so it brings up the issue of young girls looking much older than they are.

And, in talking about it recently, someone asked me "Why would a 12 year old girl want to look 18?" ~ Obviously, a guy asked me this. If you're a female you've already responded "Why WOULDN'T they?!?"

Generations of women will attest to attempts to look older. The desire to actually be older. I'm sure generations of men will as well, but it is the females I'm talking about here.
I know I did. However, since my mother is known to read this, I will spare details to cover my own, now-grown hide.

What makes it all so shocking though is how very "grown-up" girls today now look. And by that I mean that they are oozing sexuality. And not in the good, wholesome kinda way. In the "how much for an hour" kinda way. I'm sure to some extent adults have always said this about younger generations, but it seems more prevalent now. Why??

Hmm .. good question. Let's think on that. What could POSSIBLY be giving these girls the idea that looking like whores is good? Hmm ....

This is 'Red Riding Hood Barbie.' I don't know about you, but this isn't what I remember Red Riding Hood looking like!! YIKES!!! I'm pretty certain that wolf there has money in his hand.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm not laying the blame completely at Barbie's 4" ho heels.

What I am saying is that if you give your children toys to play with and those toys look like street-walkers, then don't be shocked if your children grow up looking like street-walkers too. If you let them play video games full of violence, trampy looking female characters, and so on .. don't be surprised when the kids grow up desensitized to violence and without healthy perspectives of how adults should look .. much less act. If you buy them clothes that don't cover their bodies properly ~ and I'm not talking about anything too prudish here when I say properly, I'm saying more along the lines of 'ass not hanging out' kind of properly ... well, duh .. you're kids are gonna look like whores. Or at least people are going to likely think so.
If you raise your kids thinking you have a great relationship with them and you're judging that based on the fact that y'all are "best buds" .. well, then you're very misguided and don't be so shocked when your child tries to act like an adult rather than a child.

The responsibility lies with the parents. Sure, kids will still do things that we tell them not to, often simply because we tell them not to. But, you still have to do your job as a parent. Especially while they're still young enough that you can control most the things they do & see.

So .. why are you so shocked?

Ho ho fucking ho.

2010-12-03T14:19:00.005-05:00

Tis the Season.

After my annual holiday freak-out the other day (no, I haven't blogged about that one) I decided I needed to make up for it. I was going to decorate out front some. Justin would come home and be amazed at how beautiful the house (or at least the outside of it) was. The neighbors would be in awe. Cars would drive slowly by just to gaze at the merriment of decor. Martha Stewart would soon be calling for tips and I'd be featured in Better Homes & Gardens.

I begin hanging large, colorful decorations from the tree out front. As is customary whenever we are outside for more than five minutes and our evil neighbor is home, she comes outside, picks up a stray stick or two, and then leaves. She drives the opposite direction from our house. ~ I take this as a sign that the beauty of my Christmas decorating must be working as the Grinch has felt the need to flee it's cave.

Then the kids get up. First Shannon and I foolishly think that I can finish the last of my decorating (for now) while he stays inside. HA!! Then, because I don't ever seem to learn, I foolishly think that maybe Shannon and I can sneak outside while I finish the rest of this decorating while Tristan sleeps. Even bigger HA!!!! -- actually, I think I peed a little laughing at that last one.

Shannon willingly & eagerly gets on socks, shoes, & a coat, though we argue about which coat. Tristan begins whining when he can't find the socks that he took off during nap. Apparently they've become invisible. He's walking around, jacket over his shoulder, barefoot. I tell him to get everything on and come outside when he's done. = Mistake #1. This will never happen, we all know it won't, it will take several interruptions & back and forths before he is actually capable of joining us outside.

Mistake #2 & this is the doozy one: I clip a leash to a bouncy Foster and hand the other end to Shannon. I expect this to go well. After all, they're only supposed to be coming out on the front porch, sitting down, and watching me finish this last little bit of wrapping the columns. What could go wrong?? I mean, how could handing responsibility of a 125lb puppy to an almost 7 year old kid, who can't sit still either and weighs 60lbs, possibly go wrong?!?
On one of my trips back inside to help Tristan get fully dressed, Foster decides to follow me. There goes the little tree near the front door. Luckily no damage done.
Then Foster finds a pumpkin to play with. Yes, a pumpkin. Big dogs play with big toys. Anyway, I think this might be ok because he'll lay there and play with it while I quickly finish. I've already told Shannon to not try and take him into the front yard.

....... I have my back turned.

The pumpkin Foster is playing with goes rolling into the mulch. He goes after it. Shannon decides he doesn't like standing on the porch anymore, and since Foster has gone into the mulch he decides to go stand in the yard.

So - have you ever seen a puppy/dog get real wound up?? I mean REALLY wound up? You know, where they start running around in near circles like their butt is on fire?? And they're kinda bouncing in the middle of all of it?

Well, this is what I turn around to see, as I hear Shannon let out a cry. Foster has gotten all excited and wound up. He is running around in circles, circles that overlap Shannon who is still holding the leash but is now on the ground. I tell Shannon to let go of the leash & get up. I get Foster's leash but he's now in the insane gremlin mode. I have to tackle him and pin him down into some form of submission. I now lose my cool.

I growl at Shannon that I told him not to go in the yard, that I've warned him about trying to play with big dogs, & to go inside. I give Foster a bad dog whap and drag him inside & into his crate. I come outside and then growl at Tristan to go inside as well. I say things I regret. I contemplate burning down the house, or at least the column that I am trying to finish wrapping. I hear Martha Stewart putting me on the "do not call" list and Better Homes and Gardens finding someone else. I hear the neighbor's gossiping "those poor kids!" I hear someone saying "then why did she get a big dog?" - I think it is Shannon's voice in my head on that one. I am sad and beaten.

I finish the final column and drag all my decorating supplies inside and put them away. I hear the kids in on the computer, listening to Mister Rogers. I don't know why, but it induces a child-like cry from me. A "yes, everything is bad and wrong, please say something soothing and make it all better" type of cry. That doesn't happen though. I go change pants and toss my jeans, now covered in grass and dirt from tackling the dog, into the wash. I curse myself for losing my cool. For not seeing it all coming. For blaming it on anyone other than myself.

And that is how you know the holidays have officially begun. Tis the Season.

A Glimpse of Insanity

2010-12-01T11:31:00.004-05:00

I did a google search for 'insanity photos' and found this. I don't know what it is, but it is insane and it captures about how this morning is going. (PS - here is the link to it: http://www2.printshop.co.uk/Weebl/Shop/Plushies/Insanity_Prawn_Boy/Product.html - it is random enough for me to now have to spend an afternoon or an hour or so looking through later)

My point is, this has been a really odd morning. My last post was about the randomness of Tristan. Well, I gotta tell y'all .. the kid comes by it naturally. Here is my morning.

I wake up and just can't quite get going. Dragging, not focusing, feeling like I am in a dense fog. Coffee is calling me, though coffee does not like me. I think coffee has hidden agendas and secretly plots against me. Coffee is a double agent lurking in the pantry. The coffee has won this round as I brew up a pot.

As the caffeine begins to kick in my mind begins to really fly. I announce how windy it is and hope that a house doesn't fall on me. A friend replies that she hopes I am wearing red glitter shoes (my friend is not made up ... at least I'm pretty certain she isn't). I reply that I need red glitter mukluks, red glitter shoes, and a pair of shoes that curl up at the toe and have a little bell on them. And some luxurious Moroccan slippers. I imagine myself walking around the house in them. Actually, I might have hallucinated it. I feel like a Johnny Depp character on crack.

Now it is lunch time and I fix the boys their lunch. Because that is what you do at lunch, it would be silly to fix them anything else then. Both boys are dressed, and Tristan is wearing a shoe on one foot & a slipper on the other.
They are rattling on and on and on and on as kids are prone to do. Obviously I am prone to do this as well. It is half understandable and half not. Sometimes I think they're just speaking in grunts. Or that William Shatner has suddenly inhabited the body of my child and .... they ... start ... talking ... like ... this.

This conversation occurs:
Tristan ~ Mommy, do you actually cold snow?
Me ~ Do I actually cold snow?
Tristan ~ Yea. Do you actually cold snow?
Me ~ I really don't know...

Shannon then goes into a several minute long talk about what he does when he sees cold snow. I wonder if I've really had too much coffee &/or what was in my coffee. Is it possible to slip yourself something unknowingly?

Foster is now weaving around the table, pushing the chair around, licking the floor, and fitting BETWEEN the table and wall. This is impressive since all laws of physics and sciences would dictate that it is impossible for him to do so. I think I see the table try to walk out of the kitchen on his back.

Lunch is a mixture of random sentences, grunts, and feeling like everyone is speaking some weird language. The kids have gone goofy. Laughing at insanely random silliness (and this is a statement given the general insanity and randomness of the morning). I am now screaming at the kids to quit it & eat, because after several calmer attempts to get them to calm down and eat they are now saying nothing but just pointing at each other and I am still screaming for them to quit it and wondering what the hell am I on.
We have a bell on the back door that Foster is supposed to ring to let us know he needs to go out. He rings it far more often than that. He goes over to it and begins ringing it now. I think he just wanted to add to the general insane conversation.

So, I am still trying to get them to eat. Getting my kids to eat can be an amazingly long process, especially with Tristan. Out of nowhere, Tristan punches table then, in shock, looks at me crying because he hurt his fist. He wraps it up in his shirt and frowns.

Shannon is now done eating and wandering about. He lost his first tooth recently and has four more loose teeth. He asks me if I want to feel his loose teeth. I am reminded of last night's trip to Lowe's where we run into a friend (who also happens to be on City Council - so please kids act appropriate) and he asks her if she would like to wiggle his teeth.
Lesson repeated to Shannon: If people aren't related to you, don't ask them to stick their hands in your mouth.

I'm still trying to get Tristan to finish his food. He is chewing the same bite for five minutes. I swear I see the glint in his eye that says "this is on purpose you over controlling bitch!" All the while Shannon is now skipping through the house and humming some random tune, not a song, just a tune/noise. This, of course, happens after he says he is going to wait in the room for Tristan.

I have finally gotten the kids down for naps (or quiet time as the case may be for Shannon) and I think some bit of normality and sanity might be achievable. Then this conversation occurs:

Tristan, calling to me from his nap room ~ Mommy, I need you.
Me, heading in there ~ What?
Tristan ~ Bear's Bob Marley blanket has a big hole in it.
*said blanket is in on the floor in the middle of the room, I pick it up & examine the hole*
Me ~ How did it get a hole in it?
Tristan ~ Because I stuck my hands in there and then I put my head through it.
Me ~ *actually, I don't respond. I give him that 'you gotta be kidding me' look*
Tristan ~ That's why I need you to fix Bear's Bob Marley blanket. And I need Bear's smaller blanket with the little holes in it.

I don't let him have another blanket with more holes in it. I kiss him goodnight on his forehead. Somehow I get the feeling that I've also kissed all hopes of sanity for the day goodbye.

Wonderfully Random Tristan

2010-11-29T17:35:00.006-05:00

It really is amazing to see what distinct personalities your children have. Shannon came into this world like a ball of fire. Tristan has always been more mellow. Very mellow.

*When we would go through grocery stores Tristan, riding shot-gun in the cart, would throw his head back and look at the lights. He'd stare and say "whoa......." really drawn out. ~ It was funny. We never turn a lot of lights on at the house so we figured he was just impressed.

*When he was still learning to talk, Tristan's first full sentence was "I want a cracker." This eventually got shortened down to "I want crack." That's really funny until you have to go through a grocery store, trying to hold your head up and not die, with a toddler sobbing and screaming "I WANT CRACK!!"

*Sitting around the kitchen table one evening, I hear someone kicking the table. I look at Shannon and tell him to quit it. Shannon looks at Justin who then looks at Tristan. We're all now looking at Tristan, who is off in his own world yet all the while still kicking the table. I snap "TRISTAN!!" and he jumps and with a shock replies "What, I didn't pee!!"

*Both boys are musical but it is Tristan who remembers songs. Of course he doesn't always remember the correct lyrics. First it was Tom Waits. They love his song 'Big in Japan' & they call him/it the 'Silly Man Music.' I didn't think anything of it until, again in a grocery store, Tristan starts singing it, mimicking Tom Waits' voice quite well, and singing "Hey but I'm big in your pants, I'm big in your pants..."Then it was them walking in while I was listening to the Beastie Boys. Tristan walks of singing "NO .. SLEEP .. TILL BROCCOLI!!!" ~ I am seriously going to put that on a shirt!

*The other evening, a weekend evening, Justin ran an errand really quickly. It had been a holiday weekend so Justin had been home from work for several days before said weekend. Justin comes home from running the errand, walks through the door and is greeted by Tristan asking "Daddy, are you home from work now?"

*We used to get milk delivered, and the milkman still comes by every Monday morning to bring us cheese and other items of our choosing. He usually is here around 10:30am. That evening, around 5:30PM Justin's father stopped by to drop something off. He was only here a minute but he did make sure to say hi to the boys. Several minutes pass. Tristan walks to the front door and starts asking "Is the milkman here now??" Although he stated it clearly enough from the beginning, I am in disbelief and have to get him to repeat it. I reply "no" and Tristan just blankly says "oh" and walks off.

Nourishment & Trying Times

2010-11-29T11:28:00.003-05:00

It's tough out there. These are tough times. - These are phrases we hear a lot and that we say a lot. And they are true and accurate, but they are also over-used. The truth is that it's always been tough out there and that times have always been tough. Historically speaking, we've probably never really had it easier. I'm reminded of this clip of Louis CK on Conan: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r1CZTLk-Gk - Everything's amazing and nobody is happy. But still, even though everything is amazing, that doesn't mean that at some given moment of time life isn't tough, that times aren't tough. It's a balancing act.

So we seek out what we think will make it better. What will make these tough times ok? We desperately seek out the solution that will kiss the wound of difficulty and make it all better.

This all causes me to get really stressed out, depressed, and down right angry. Not because we're seeking out what will make it better, that of course is a good thing, but because there are so many snake oil salesmen out there and they are craftier than ever.
Every where you turn there is a magazine full of solutions that will make your life better. It will make your kitchen look pristine, it will make a pile of throw rugs on the floor look like a decorating statement and not like you're a sloth, it will make your kids so deliriously happy that they won't ever bicker or back talk again, it will make you lose _x_ many pounds, it will make your spouse fall literally heads over heels in orgasmic awe of you. And if you buy now (or through the next three days) you can get it for 20% off and with $5 shipping! It's an even better deal!!! If you delay dinner with your gathered family to stand in the freezing cold & avoid being trampled or attacked in the ensuing stampede, the store will offer you magical discounts on the perfect products to make your holiday season absolutely perfect. You don't even have to think about your shopping list, the store has made it for you with their special deals! It's amazing!!

But it isn't, is it? No. It's soul depleting. It leaves us empty, because as soon as you've bought that wonderful deal a better deal, a newer model, comes out and then .. well, you're deal just sucks. And your life sucks. And that great gift makes your ass look fat. It's not only depleting it is insulting.

I would like this to be a general, any-time-of-year kinda post but the fact is that I am writing it as the holiday season is officially under full-swing. It is what it is. And as I look around I see the increasing amount of soul-depleting, life-draining false promises. Viruses don't spread this fast. Evil-do'ers dream of viruses that spread as fast as these shiny promises of happiness.

We need nourishment y'all. We desperately need it. We need a hug that isn't just an empty embrace by someone thinking of what else they would rather be doing, but a hug that is there.
We need loved ones who are there not to demand more but to offer help and support, and who will get it in return in spades.
We need friends, acquaintances and neighbors who aren't there to try and one up you. We don't need these same people who would say nice things to your face but roast you in hell behind your back. We need the ones who notice you left your front door open when you went out of town and not only call you but double check that all is well by asking the police to do a quick run through. Ones who lend several tablespoons of baking soda when you need a pinch, just to make sure you have enough .. just in case. Ones who bring by chicken noodle soup when they know you have a cold. Ones who realize that dogs bark, children leave out toys, and sometimes taking down holiday decorations can take all damn year.
We need family that doesn't make you feel bad for losing your temper with your kids when they've been pushing your buttons for too long, but instead offers, if nothing else, just the simple encouragement and reassurance that you're still a good parent. That your kids won't hate you forever. Family members who can help you through those times in a marriage (or any relationship) where you just don't know if it's going to work out, if you haven't grown apart. Family who can reassure you without assuming divorce is immanent.

We need love. And we need to be able to give that love back. Return it ten-fold. Not just to strangers we've never met, or that we only know online. Not just to those who are in poverty around the world. Even though everything is amazing, it seems like we're dying from the inside-out. We need the love to nourish ourselves whole again. True nourishment. Not sold to us by a book of how-to's, but what is already deep inside us, to give and to get. It hasn't been that long, our bodies still know what true nourishment is.

I hope you all can give and get the nourishment you need. I wish you all so much happiness, true happiness. I want you to know that I do believe in you, and that I do have faith in you. These are tough times but you will get through them, and you will do it wonderfully, even if you stagger at times, you will do it wonderfully. You are a good parent, you are a good person, you are a good partner and spouse. You are beautiful as you are and I hope you know that in your soul.

Unschooling Life

2010-11-28T12:36:00.004-05:00

Unschooling takes you places. Wonderful places. This place happens to be Lane Stadium, located in Blacksburg, VA. We are die-hard Hokie fans and Lane Stadium is the Hokie's home field. This was the boys' first trip there. They didn't get to go inside, but wandering around outside a bit was just fine.

I had always intended to write a lot more about homecshooling and our journey on that path on this blog. After all, it is a big part of our lives, so how could I rightly leave it off? But a couple things happened.

First - when you tell people, or when they find out that you're homeschooling your kids

it's like you've just walked into a giant mine field. Things can quickly turn into a nearly literal war zone. You're bombarded with questions wanting (sometimes demanding) to know every detail of every aspect of their education. Whether it pertains to them in the current measure of time is irrelevant. What are you going to do about trigonometry??? What about this? What about that? HOW are you teaching them? What makes you think you're qualified to teach them?

I realize that often these are asked out of simple curiosity. If you tell someone you just managed to fly from tree-top to tree-top you're likely going to get asked why. But, as too many homeschoolers can & will attest to, too often these questions are asked too snidely. Condescending, judging, like vultures trying to pick you apart.

What makes it a war-zone is the attempt to stand one's ground and not put the other person's choices regarding their child's education down. It is very difficult to say why you think school is a bad idea for your child but perfectly ok for another child. MINE FIELD!! Add that you unschool and you get a double or triple mine field because even homeschoolers have been known to turn on each other.

Now you know why I've been silent. I just haven't wanted to deal with it, with the drama. But this is my blog and damnit, I'm going to talk about the things that are going on in my life, in OUR lives. And unschooling is a big part of that. So, here it goes. (And, fair warning, I usually don't delete comments but if you bring drama that I don't care for here .. I will delete your comment.)

Overall Unschool Lesson #1: It all begins with Sit/Stay

We happened to have gotten a new puppy this Summer (yes this relates, just hang in there) and so he went to puppy obedience class at the end of Summer/beginning of Fall. There is something we learned there that I haven't been able to shake out of my head, and I think this is a good thing. The instructor told us repeatedly "It all begins with the sit/stay command. If you can't get 'em to do the sit/stay you can't move on to anything else." And so, this has become a mantra for now. For schooling, for growing. For moving our lives into the child-centric model to the model where they orbit around us (parent-centric?).

Tristan & Pre-School:

This year Tristan has started pre-school. Unschooled pre-school, only measured with any sort of formal significance (that anyone from the "outside world" -- ha ha, that's a joke people) coming from the fact that he goes to Storytime at the library once a week. We're blessed in Salem to have such a wonderful public library.

One of the biggest goals of pre-school for Tristan though is learning to dress himself. He takes longer than most grown women who are trying to put on their faces and do their hair. He usually leaves his room, where he is supposed to be getting dressed, to come find me and talk to me at every .. single .. possible .. conceivable stage of undressing and dressing. This is usually followed by a scream/whine when Foster is "near him" and then the derailing to where he wants me to dress him. I've told in no uncertain terms that if he wants to go to kindergarten then he simply must learn to dress himself. Those are the rules. The Sit/Stay.

Shannon & 1st Grade:
Shannon is now in 1st grade. He goes to homeschool gym class at the YMCA and loves it, though I don't care for the instructors. I haven't taken him out yet though. I'm there while he's in class, so I'm .. well, there. And he loves it.
His reading is amazing, almost too good. Math hasn't clicked yet. We're still working on it, very gently showing him how things can add up. He can get it a little bit, but it hasn't clicked. We're not worried. I'd like to work with him on learning money, if only I can get myself organized and ahead of the game enough to get there.
What I've really been impressed with him about this year is his empathy and caring for others. When my uncle died in August we took the boys to the burial. Shannon was upset, but I think it was more because he saw everyone else upset and that bothered him. At Halloween he wanted to color pictures to pass out to all the trick-or-treaters (we wound up making special goodie bags for friends). Thanksgiving comes around and there he is with a stack of paper and a tote of crayons, drawing & coloring hand-turkeys for everyone .. writing their names on them and then folding them up just so, so that they had to be opened just the way he wanted them to be, and giving them away.

Then there are the rules and things they learn together. For instance, while Justin was putting in my dreadlocks Saturday evening we put the movie Elf in the dvd player. The boys saw the dinner scene where Buddy puts maple syrup on spaghetti and drinks an entire 2-liter of soda & then they saw the breakfast scene where he eats plain spaghetti noodles topped with marshmallows, m&m's, various syrups, pop-tarts, and likely more sugary stuff. Both boys commented (without our prompting!) that he wasn't eating very healthy!! I was proud.

They know where their food comes from because they go with me/us to pick it up from the farm. They see the baby piglets, then the larger pigs, then the pork. Shannon infamously welcomed Thanksgiving guests into our house a couple years back with the very enthusiastic greeting of "Come in! Would you like to see our dead turkey??" He then proceeded, during dinner no less, to explain how the turkey came to be dinner. How they killed it, how they processed it. Even though he hadn't actually been there he knew the steps.

Not all the things they learn together are related to food though. They've recently been allowed to start riding their bikes/scooters/tricycles down to the playground when we go. We live on a VERY, VERY busy street so this is a bigger deal than it may sound otherwise. They started having to ride near me, stay close to me. When they do that successfully I start to let them ride ahead a bit. Never out of sight, but a bit of freedom none the less.

And there are more things. Shannon has become rather responsible for pooper-scooping the backyard. No small task considering Foster is an English Mastiff. He wanted the responsibility, we have it to him.

We hung a coat rack on the back of one of the closet doors in the room. They're now responsible for hanging up their coats properly. There is also now a shoe rack with a shelf for each of them where their shoes are supposed to go. That one isn't going as smoothly as the coat rack, but they'll get the hang of it. And there are more things, so many more things, things I just can't think of right now.

And I know some of you will read this and think that it has absolutely nothing to do with their education and schooling. This is where I will, politely, disagree with you. Tristan is 4 years old and Shannon is almost 7. We're still in the Sit/Stay commands. From the number of grown "adults" (that word is used very loosely) who still live at home or who can't support themselves properly, I'd say that a lot of kids could've benefited from some more Sit/Stay lessons.

But this is our life. I am proud of it. I am proud of my boys. So far, this unschooling journey is a good one.

The Dreadie Experience

2010-11-28T08:28:00.005-05:00

Eight years ago I got the idea to dreadlock my hair. I had really wanted dreads for a while, and I loved dreads on other people. I had just met Justin that Summer and we were quickly becoming very close buds. He had dreads, gorgeous long dreads, and that only made me want dreads even more.
So I trusted a friend who assured me that she had put in dreads for several people to put in my dreads. Unfortunately, they .. to say it nicely .. weren't done quite as nicely as I would've hoped. They were kinda hideous. But I loved having dreads. After the mess was done I began doing research and finding sites about dreadlocks. ~ Lesson Learned - ALWAYS do your research FIRST!!! That, and if you're interested in dreadlocks do yourself a favor and head over to http://www.dreadheadhq.com - they've got lots of info & products to help you out!

Anyway, eight years later and the bug bites again. Actually make that 6 or 7 years later as I did a friend's dreads a year or so ago and that put the seed of desire in. My brother in law was growing out his hair with the intention of putting in dreads and so we agreed to do each other's dreadlocks when our hair was long enough.

A year or two later, he's cut his hair off and I decide I simply can't wait until my hair is long "enough". ~ For those not familiar with dreads, your hair can & will shrink up .. a lot!~
So I talked it over with Justin. I talked it over with a good friend. I had made up my mind and just needed a little reassurance (don't want a bangs crisis on my hands, ya know?). Since we had court on November 23rd (blog on that coming soon), we agreed it would be wise to wait until after that.
I made an appointment to have my hair sectioned into roughly 1" squares by my hair stylist. This could've easily been done at home but I thought I'd spare Justin the hassle and reassure myself that we were starting with a good base. I also ordered the following from DreadHeadHQ: locking accelerator, dreadlock shampoo, lock peppa (the best stuff EVER!!!), a loose tool (for wrangling in loose hairs), a dreadlock comb, and tiny rubber bands for the initial sectioning. Justin and I each had our wax leftover from our previous dreadie days so I was all set there.

I also ordered a crocheted headband off of an awesome gal at etsy. Since I don't have a photo of me in the headband yet, I'll just give you this link to it on her page: http://www.etsy.com/listing/62285081/confetti-colored-headband-dreadband-hair?ref=pr_shop (Thank you Grace!! I LOVE my headband!)

So .. here is a photo journey of my dreadie adventure so far:

This is me, pre-dreads. Obviously this photo was taken over the Summer. I'm not exactly wearing tank tops in this chilly weather!! Anyway, this is pretty much what my hair was looking like before the dreads.
I didn't get a photo of my hair sectioned off before we began dreading it. I should've, it looked pretty silly. ~ Dreadie Lesson ~ Be prepared to look downright goofy at times. ~

Here I am, partially dreaded. In this photo I look more dreaded than I am, but if you look closely you'll see a lot of it is just sectioned off hair. This photo was taken on Black Friday.

The back of my head on Black Friday. You can really see that most of it is just sectioned off hair.
Saturday morning. Remember the stated Dreadie Lesson above?? You're gonna look goofy at times. Just try to own it and you'll get through it.

My dreads are skinny and little, which looks better (at least on me) than trying to start out with big, phatty dreads. It also means that dreadlocking takes a LOT of time. Admittedly we did take a long time-out for the Tech/UVA game on Saturday, but we didn't finish until late Saturday night. Justin put in most all of my dreads, and at final count/estimate I have between 70 & 75 dreadlocks on my head now.

Finally done, November 27th.

From the back they're looking real good. We were both proud & impressed.

And here I am, a dreadie Mama Taney. I can not begin to adequately express my gratitude to Justin for spending the hours it took to put these babies in. I am eternally grateful, even if my head was sore as hell afterwards. I'm especially grateful because I know he'll be there to help me maintain them along the way. Dreads are a journey. I'm officially on day 2 of that journey.

PS ~ My ultra-cool and supportive mother (who not-so-secretly hates dreads) gave me a dreadie bead for my recent birthday. I put it in this morning. I love it. I love her for her support.

The Tooth Came Out

2010-11-15T14:19:00.002-05:00

The tooth came out last Tuesday night. He had fiddled with it and fiddled with it, and after he was already down for bed is when it came completely loose. I gave it the tiniest of yanks and out it popped. We put it in the Tooth Fairy pillow (picture still not here, I know).

Wednesday morning he woke up to find that the Tooth Fairy had left him 3 quarters, 2 dimes, and 1 nickel .. which equals "a WHOLE dollar!!"

The front tooth beside the missing one is very loose as well. And now so are the top two front teeth. In a couple months he should look real cute for photos!

The First Tooth

2010-11-06T14:58:00.006-04:00

Our world is changing. Shannon has his first loose tooth.

Most of his friends have already lost several. Apparently girls loose teeth earlier than boys and most of the kids he knows who are his age are girls. I have been informed just this afternoon that the little girl who lives next door has already lost FIVE teeth. ~ much emphasis on that five.

So when we were at the dentist back in September and it was announced that he had a tooth starting to loosen, Shannon's world exploded. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his open-mouth smile took over his entire face. Since then it has been non-stop checking of the tooth. How loose is it? See how it can be wiggled? It's LOOSE!!

Apparently he is going to quite gummy soon, as he is now claiming that he has, at the very minimum, four loose teeth. They seem to magically loosen overnight. It has been confirmed that the two front bottom teeth are indeed loose, but he swears there are more.

Today he showed me just how loose that first tooth was. And it is. In fact, it was just the slightest bit bloody around the gum line on one side. Swished with warm salt water, and we're good to go. Apparently we're good to go straight to the mirror ....

One must check the status of one's loose teeth at every possible moment. These photos were taken before he even was out of his pajamas this morning.

Can you tell he's pretty happy about it??

Everyone has asked him if he wants them to tie a string around it and yank it out. Justin suggested to him this morning that we tie one end to the tooth and one to Foster. I think this has overwhelmed him a little (not just that last one!). He announced to me at lunch that it will come out on it's own when it's ready to.

In the meantime I've gotten out a pillow that my mother made for me when I was his age and starting to loose teeth. Hand embroidered with a Tooth Fairy rhyme and my name. It is green with little flowers (this was the very early 80's), a ruffly green edge along with a lace like trim. I asked Shannon if he would like me to change the fabric. I thought I might add Shannon & Tristan's names to the pillow under my own as well. He thought about it for a second and said that he would like me to change the fabric. I asked him what type he would like. He replied "Something more green." ....... "Um, Shannon, the pillow IS green." .... "Oh, ok, I like it then." -- boys.

And, of course, since I am MOM and this is my oldest, I am weepy over the first loose tooth. All who know me are not shocked as I am weepy over everything. I am weepy as I type this and I think about holding that tooth when it comes out. How long it took for him to get that tooth. How he looked before he had teeth. How my baby isn't a baby anymore. --- Ok, I must stop and wipe away these tears.

I will let you all know when the big moment happens. With photos for me to cry over.

The boys & Foster

2010-10-11T19:51:00.005-04:00

Foster, our English Mastiff, turned 6 months old today. He's 28" tall (up 2" from less than a week ago) at the shoulder and now weighs roughly 100lbs. That's more than both our boys put together! Needless to say, the kids and the pup don't always see eye to eye .... though as big as he is, they almost literally do.

For those who are unaware, English Mastiffs slobber. They have big floppy jowls (I actually, accidentally, stepped on Foster's today!) that hold food, water, and drool long after they've left the dish behind.

This isn't Foster, it is his father Samson. Look close at the mouth. In all fairness, Samson had just finished off a pig's ear and was extra slobbery. They usually aren't that bad. But they DO drool & slobber.

Shannon HATES the slobbering and drool!! I really can't emphasize enough how much he hates it. If he gets any slobber on him he throws a fit about needing to change his clothing. So, this evening we're sitting in the kitchen and Shannon spots a wet spot on the floor. ~ Cue the ominous music ~

The truth of the matter is that it was from where Foster had been chewing on a piece of ice, dropped it, and then went back to trying to get it.

Shannon begins screaming about their being a puddle of pee on the floor. I tell him it isn't pee, but just .. well, what I said above. He then starts screaming about it being slobber and on & on about how much he hates slobber. So I ask him "Well which do you hate more, slobber or pee?"
"Slobber" he replies. "Well then, that's pee on the floor" I say.

With that, the kid hops down and announces with great significance "I have to clean up that pee!" He then continued on saying "I am ALWAYS prepared to take care of pee!" And he got out the vinegar & water, a clean cloth, and cleaned up the alleged pee. All the while he starts muttering and complaining "THIS DOG is making me mad!" because every time he would clean up one spot, there'd be another spot since Foster was following him around with great curiousity and nosing the floor behind him. Absolutely hysterical to Justin & I, absolutely maddening to poor Shannon, and absolutely interesting to Foster.

And then, there is this. Foster tends to think the kids are puppies and his litter-mates. If the kids hop up on the bed you can guarantee that Foster will soon appear at the bed as well, expecting to be let up. If the kids play trains, Foster follows them around, nosing at the trains and sitting on the tracks. Every time Foster sits on the tracks Shannon has begun saying "Foster, get your tush off the tracks!" ~~ It's rather cute.

Tristan on the other hand doesn't so often find Foster cute. Foster is still 6 months old, which means he plays like a puppy. And Tristan is only 4, which means he can get knocked around by Foster's leaning against him or his tail knocking into him. Tristan is NOT happy about this.

But he does love him. He hugs on him and pets him. Foster walks with me when I get the boys down for their naps, often trying to stay in there with them. They both give him a hug and kiss goodnight.

And, with one being 6 months old, one being 4 years old, and the final one being 6 1/2 years old, this is how our household runs. At least between the three of them.

Trying Times

2010-09-24T22:47:00.002-04:00

Yes, we're still working our way through a hell-ish renovation. Suing a contractor who is sleazy but, since he's been sued by everyone and their sister, knows the legal system. A true snake. This Summer has been hell, and just when I thought I couldn't take anymore ... I had to.

My uncle died on August 30th. I wasn't terribly close to my uncle, though he reminds me too much of my grandfather, whom I am utterly dedicated to. My uncle died of Alzheimer's. So did my grandmother. Same side of the family. Losing him was like losing her all over again. Torture and pain and unbearable. Knowing that my grandfather has now buried two wives AND his first born son was even worse. I've seen what happens to a parent who loses a child. I've watched them age before my eyes.

Less than 3 weeks later I would learn that my own mother has cancer. My mother and I talk everyday. I often call her before I even get the boys' their breakfast, or while they're eating they're breakfast. As cheesy as it may sound, she is my best friend, aside from my husband.

You're "supposed to" have a colonoscopy when you turn 50. Mom put that off. I don't blame her. I'm not one to believe in these "supposed to"s either. Though I doubt that was her logic and reasoning. She finally had one. The results weren't good. A 2" polyp. Later acknowledged as a tumor.

I wasn't sure how to handle this. Be positive. Remain optimistic. One of my brothers is very sensitive. Have to be strong for him. Be there for my mother. And my kids. My kids who don't know, and we weren't telling. How old would they need to be before they remembered someone who loved them so much and someone they absolutely adored? I have heard stories of relatives that I apparently loved, but that I have no memory of.

Mom had a CT Scan this past Wednesday. Results wouldn't be available till meeting with the doc on Thursday. I took the kids to the Y on Wednesday with all intentions of working out while Shannon was in his homeschool gym class and Tristan was enjoying the child care. Instead of working out I spent the hour knitting, listening to music, and crying. Luckily, I had knit myself a nice cotton tissue. It came in handy.

The good news. Mom's CT Scan showed that the tumor hadn't spread. That is REALLY good news. REALLY good. She'll start radiation and chemo, at the same time, and there is a 90% chance they'll get it all.

I don't want to think of the other side of things. Trying to focus on the positive. Which is better than anything else.

We're members of our local brewer's guild. Last month's meeting was 2 days before my uncle died. We knew it would be any day. I walked into the meeting, people said "hi" to me, and I turned around and walked out. Luckily, the meeting took place on the lake and I was able to excuse my absence. I told them I was "Zen-ing with the lake" and surroundings while listening to music. Then I wore sunglasses for the rest of the meeting so my eyes wouldn't give me away.
Tomorrow we have our next monthly meeting of the brewer's guild. I've been dreading a repeat of last month. Though, since CT Scans have come back positive I am hoping that I won't break down into tears.

I'm the kind of chick who would rather punch you than admit to breaking down into tears. But here I am, bearing my soul and worries to an online journal. Why? I don't know. I just need it out. I need to get it out. But I'll wear my sunglasses and bring my music with me .. just in cases.

Remodeling Saga Continues

2010-09-23T13:42:00.004-04:00

We're once again underway with the remodeling. We've hired two guys who, so far anyway, are doing a really good job & who we feel really good about. We've also had to get estimates from and hire some other people for various jobs.
The most recent, and the reason for this blog, was an electrician. We used to have an elderly gentleman who was retired from the Navy as our electrician. Honest guy, FANTASTIC rates. One bill from him was $12 ~ and that was for installing a new fan we had bought!! But, we haven't been able to contact him, and we've heard he's moved to be closer to the grandkids. So .. we've been searching for a new electrician.

Our current guys recommended someone. They called him up and he came out the same day, on a Friday evening. Well .. he was supposed to be here at 4pm on Friday. He didn't show up until 5:30. This did throw a hink in my schedule, as it had caused me to rush and be harried with the kids to be home by 4, but hey, the guy was willing to come out on a Friday afternoon!! He couldn't fix the problem that night but said that his guys would be here first thing Monday morning. Between 9am and 9:30. The rate was $95.50 for 2 guys for 1hr.

I'm the type of person who believes in your word & the power of a good handshake. You know .. honest. On time. Apologetic if I happen to not be on time. But, I'm learning that although I detest punching a clock, if you're going to have your house worked on, you practically need a time clock for people to punch in & out on!

Here's how it went down:
*Monday morning, they're supposed to be here between 9am & 9:30am.
* ..... The wait begins .... You do know being up and ready for something on a Monday morning is torture, right?
*10am ~ I call the head boss honcho. They're on their way, they just called him for directions & the address. ---- mmhmm & OK --- At this point I'm wise enough to know that when they get here I will keep a written time chart of who arrives when & who leaves when & everything else in between.
*10:30 ~ still no electricians. I've now decided that if they're not here by 11am, they're fired.
*A couple minutes before 11am ~ I call the head honcho boss to tell him to not bother sending his guys. He doesn't let me get that far and asks if he can call me right back. I agree and he does. He says they're at my front door, knocking to get in. .... Um .. no they aren't. Apparently they've gotten lost. -- Dude, we live in a BLUE house!! It's nearly impossible to NOT find this place!! That is unless you can't read street signs properly, ignore house numbers, and are on the wrong road. Which is apparently what happened.
*11am ~ Knock on the door. ONE guy is here. But he's a cutie pie with long, wavy hair, so I don't fire him. I ask about the second guy (remember above mentioned rate), and am told he should be along shortly.
*11:20 ~ Second guy arrives.
*11:40 ~ They announce they're going to leave for lunch
*12:30 ~ They get back from lunch
*1pm ~ They're done and one they're way. The bill will be mailed to me.

Work done by the way? Fix the doorbell and replace outlets in the kitchen, bringing them up to code.

I got the bill today. $62.79 for materials. Ok, not thrilled, but this is how things go, so ok. $334.25 for 3.5 hours of labor. Ummm .. EXCUSE ME!??!

Let's look above again. First guy was here working for a total of 70 minutes. Second guy was here for a total of 50 minutes. EVEN IF I was willing to pay for the time that they took to go to lunch, they were only "here" for 2 hours. By the way, I'm NOT willing to pay them to go to lunch. Not at $95.50 an hour. Not when they haven't even been here an hour. No, I don't think so.
I called Head Honcho Boss immediately. He handed me off to Billing Guy. Billing Guy asked how long I thought they had been here. I began reading time list for them to him. He began backing off. Excuses began tumbling out of his mouth like pearls of nutcaseness. "They'll sometimes clock it from the time they leave here until the time they get back." And "they sometimes count running out for materials." -- Again, did you see the work we had done?? Not a lot of materials that needed to be run out for there!
So ... I recount my times I had their guys here for. Billing Guy says "Ok, so 2 hours then?" I reply "Uh, No. ONE hour." He agrees, kissing some customer butt in the process and stating that he hopes we'll them back for future needs.

Ok, they were nice enough to go ahead and correct it. Told me to just send in the amount that was correct. Which is good, because they would've had to take me to court before I paid that bill.

Will I be hiring them again? Are you kidding me?? NO!!!

Supporting Your Local Miller

2010-09-09T18:41:00.003-04:00

Obviously, I didn't take this photo today. This is a shot from Big Spring Mill located in Elliston, VA. Not too far from home, no more than Justin's daily commute to work.
Why is Big Spring Mill so special? One, it is a family-run, truly local business. They get their grains from as many local (or close-by) farms as possible. They are good, honest people.

My grandfather is the one who told me about them. Well .. he told my mom, she eventually passed it along to me. Now the whole family is addicted to Big Spring Mill.
But again, I'm sure you're asking ... why??

During today's visit I bought a 50lb. bag of dog food and a 25lb. bag of rabbit food. And, all together, tax included .. I spent $25.20. They even load it into my car for me.

Sure though, anyone can find a source for cheap crap, right? But that's the thing, this isn't cheap crap. The dog food is GOOD dog food. It isn't a label I had heard of before (Sportmix), but I read the ingredients & it's naturally preserved. They have several different varieties they carry, and we get the most expensive. I have pure-bred dogs, Mom has show-dogs .. not that mutts are loved less around here, this is just what we happen to have. We showed the label to our vet (the vet consistently voted best in our area) and they gave it thumbs-up AND guessed that it was likely fresher than some of the stuff bought in stores!

So .. I could pay $50 for 35lbs of the dog food we were buying at the mega-pet store OR I could pay $18.25 for 50lbs of something that is just as good. And the money here goes to a local company. $50 for 35lbs or $18.25 for 50lbs???? You tell me which is a better deal.

And for our rabbit?? Well, from the same mega-pet store I could get a 25lb bag of rabbit food for $39.99. At my local mill I picked up a 25lb bag for $5.75. Which would you rather pay -- $39.99 or $5.75 for 25lbs of rabbit feed?

But what else have they got? How about bird seed? Same mega-pet store, I can get 40lbs of black oil sunflower seed for $19.99. At the mill, 50lbs of black oil sunflower seed runs me $16 and some odd cents (sorry, I don't have a recent receipt).

Got chickens? You know I do! I also pick up my chicken feed at the mill (the original reason I started venturing out there). I get 100lbs of laying crumble for a little under $20. The price varies, but it is always right around there. Not too bad.
They also have feed for other farm animals, but I don't have those, so I don't know the prices. From the number of times I've seen pick-up truck beds being filled with sack upon sack, I'm gonna guess the prices are good. Of course, this goes against my whole pasture-raised thing ... but, what can I do there?

Are you a baker? If you're a baker, you should REALLY know your local miller. Again, I don't have a local receipt to quote you detailed prices. But here's what I can tell you, it costs me several dollars, per bag, less to buy my flour there than it would cost me to buy it at the store. Enough of a difference that I now choke when I see store prices and say "you've got to be kidding me!"

So .. check around. Do you have a local mill? See what they have, it might surprise you. It might save you some money. It might help keep money in your local economy and keep small, local businesses alive all at the same time. Not only that, noting the fact that a very old mill in Roanoke was recently torn down to pave the way for snazzier, more modern businesses .. you may just help keep a profession alive.

For those of you who live in my neck of the woods and want to check out Big Spring Mill yourselves, here is their info:

Big Spring Mill, Inc.
PO Box 305
Elliston, VA 24087
Phone: 540-268-2267
Fax: 540-268-9837
(Cash or Checks Only)

It's SNAZZY!!!

2010-09-08T13:13:00.004-04:00

While at the gym today I happened to spot a commercial on tv that caused me to not only laugh out loud, but nearly fall off the machine I happened to be sitting on. - Side Note - laughing out loud while seeming to randomly look off into space (the tvs were across the room) & while wearing headphones will get you some very strange looks from the old lady on the next machine. But I digress.

So .. what could've been so funny? Was it the orange-tinted reporter on Fox News? No, though he made me giggle too. What about the reporter whose forehead refused to move no matter how many facial expressions he tried to make? Nope.

It was .... get ready for it .. the SNAZZY NAPPER!!

This really isn't a joke either. Their ad-line is this: "IT'S THE SNAZZY WAY TO SLEEP WHILE YOU TRAVEL!" In case you still don't believe me (because I had a hard time believing it too), here is their website: http://www.snazzynapper.com/ AND here is the You Tube video commercial:

Just when I thought those stupid Snuggies were as bad as you could get, along comes the Snazzy Napper.

But then I realized something. Fox News, as well as most news sources .. Fox News just happens to be on at the Y, has begun gearing up for the 9/11 anniversary. And amidst all the remembrances of how G-Dub was in a school-room reading to kids and how Condie yelled at him not to come back to DC, something dawned on me. --- The Snazzy Napper isn't so new.

In fact ... it's almost identical to something very familiar yet something that makes most Americans very ill-at-ease. Can you guess it??

Yes, I did find it funny that for all their terrorism freak-outs, and also that the 9th anniversary of 9/11 is coming up, that there was a commercial for a product that looks remarkably like conserative Islamic dress for women.
It's even more interesting given that, according to the blog where I found this image (http://theislamicstandard.wordpress.com/2010/07/08/burqa-bans-spread-across-catalonia/) bans against burqas and niqabs are spreading across European countries.

So .. I am really left wondering which advertising or marketing genius came up with a way to take an item of conservative religious attire, that most non-Islamic people view as oppressive to women, and turn it into the newest Snuggie sensation? What did they do .. happen to pass a women wearing a burqa and go "hey, I bet you could easily take a nap while wearing one of those!"

Just in case the irony isn't funny to you. Just in case you still haven't laughed hard enough at the general idea of 'the Snazzy Napper', here is another line from their website -- "It's like privacy in a bag!" .... um, yea ... those are normally called 'body bags'.

Back to Unschool

2010-09-07T09:28:00.003-04:00

Today everywhere I turn I see cute little images of children standing out on front walks and sidewalks, waiting for the bus. While some kids have already been back to school for a week or more, school starts today in Salem.

But, of course, not here.

Our morning started off quite usual and ordinary. The kids got up before I did and were allowed to play quietly in the front room. By the time I have stumbled groggily in here this morning, I see a floor covered in cars, trains, roads, and train tracks. As I sip my warm mug of tea and type this, Shannon is busy picking most of it up, loading it all into a re-purposed box, and taking them all into their bedroom.
Ah .. their bedroom. Bunk beds with tie-dye sheets in their colors of choice. This is now a tent, with blankets hung from one level to the next. Apparently the stuffed animals are having a to-do with the cars and trains and tracks and roads. I'm not quite sure what he meant by all that, but he meant something and their world is alive right now.
Their animals all have names, though Shannon's mostly have descriptive names. For example: Shannon's stuffed brown bear is named "Brown Bear"; the stuffed black lab we got him from Chateau Morrisette is called "Puppy"; there is a lion called .. you guessed it "Lion". Tristan's animals have more familial names. His favorite stuffed animal, a bear wearing a rabbit suit, is called "Beer" ~ not because beer is such a big part of our world, but out of simply mispronunciation. His larger brown bear is called "Beer's Mommy", and the soft bear's head that rattles in the center of a little blanket (handkerchief size) is "Beer's Baby" or "Baby".

Yesterday I downloaded Google Earth onto the computer. We looked at our house (and put a pin on it, like marking it as a favorite), we looked at all the grandparent's houses. We looked at where Shannon's penpal lives. Since she lives in Jerusalem we couldn't zoom in and actually see her house, but we could see what the area looks like. Then we went and looked at the deserts and pyramids in Egypt. It was fascinating to watch the Earth spin around and begin zooming into a location. I can remember spinning around globes, pinpointing an area and trying to imagine what that area looked like close up ... so to see it now is simply amazing. It is magic.

And now the boys are setting up a bowling set in the Sunroom. Surrounded by plants, sunlight, books on their new bookcase, cleaning up toys off the floor to make way for their bowling pins. Learning to share .. ok, that's my positive way of saying they're now fighting ... figuring out how to take turns, and that you have to "share" your bowling pins so that the whole set can be set up.

Other unschooly activities?? Playing in the sandbox outside, building mountains out of sand and covering them with morning glory blooms. "Paper Cutting" (as Shannon calls it), which he is surprisingly good at. He cuts spirals out .. I am very impressed. Learning letters with Tristan (who tries to convince me that he doesn't already know them). Each of them building their own wooden toolbox with Daddy's help. Picking out a book to read from the ever-growing stack (thanks Sarah!) on their bookcase. Playing some learning games on the computer (http://www.pbskids.org/ & http://www.uptoten.com/ are current favorites).

Welcome Fall. As school buses go rumbling by our house in the morning, we mill about in our pjs, starting the day as we please or as the day calls for it. And we couldn't be happier.

No-Poo Follow-up

2010-09-05T13:41:00.004-04:00

Ok .. I broke down and washed my hair. We had court the other week and I couldn't bear it. I know the last time I blogged about this challenge (http://thebluenymph.blogspot.com/2010/08/week-2-of-no-poo-challenge.html) I was digging how my hair looked. So what happened?

Pro: I could let my hair air-dry and have these really awesome waves. Justin compared it to coming out of the ocean and letting my hair dry. Kinda bed-heady, but cool.

Con: I couldn't brush my hair. At least not with my beloved Mason Pearson paddle brush. But then I couldn't brush it with a regular ole brush either. If I did I would have an insane pouf-fro thing going on.

Pro: Thanks to having one kid with curly hair, I've had to learn how to brush curly hair, so the above issue could slightly be taken care of. Mist down hair very well, then brush. The key is to the wetness of it all.

Pro: I had VOLUME!! My hair is fine and straight usually. And limp. During the No-Poo Challenge I had VOLUME and it was AWESOME!!!!

Con ... and this was the breaking point: My hair had an odd oily texture at the roots. It reminded me of when I dyed my hair with Manic Panic. It would lift up more in sections than strands, if that makes any sense. When I was washing my hair in the shower I felt like I had to wash my hands afterwards, and I really hated that.

So, I broke down and washed my hair. I even used some conditioner that I still had from when I box-dyed my hair blonde last. I was headed into court and wanted my hair looking nice, it was one thing I just didn't want to have to worry about.
Now it's almost a week later. I'm back to using the shampoo we had here at the house already (Nature's Gate shampoo which, it turns out, is just as toxic as most store bought shampoos and costs a couple dollars more per bottle!!) & my usual "conditioner" rinse: a mixture of beer, chamomile tea, and lemon juice or apple cider vinegar. So, how's that going?

Pro: Hello my dear hairbrush. I have missed you.

Con: Back to HAVING to wash my hair daily. I could probably make it till the end of the day, but my roots would be looking super nasty by then. So .. back to washing it every friggin' morning.

Pro: Hello silky hair. Silky strands of hair.

Con: Hello FLAT hair. REALLY FLAT! You couldn't iron hair and get it any flatter.

Con: Bye bye pretty waves. Also, bye bye air dried sexy hair. I need a haircut and it seems more and more obvious everyday now.

Con: Bye bye being able to style my hair and have it hold. Now it's too silky and just falls.

Obviously I'm not really liking shampoo anymore. The kids are still holding true to the no-poo thing because it hasn't had any negative "effect" on their hair. Their heads look great.
So, I'm back to researching options and alternatives to shampoo. Today I washed my hair with some Dr. Bronner's and the usual rinse. Much nicer.
I also found this blog: http://asimmeringpotandamom.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-to-bloggin-cooking-up-more-than.html - some very good suggestions there. I might have to try this out.
Also high on the list of priorities .. get a friggin' haircut!

I'll keep you up to date on how things go and what I try next. For anyone who may read this -- thoughts? Have you tried ditching store-bought shampoo?? What did you use? Remember, store-bought shampoo didn't even exist until 1930's and, from what I've seen, all the really impressively gorgeous (female) hairstyles existed before 1930 as well. I can't help but see the correlation. What do you think?

Dude, Where've You Been?

2010-09-04T19:39:00.008-04:00

~Dude!~

I know, I've been gone for a while. Or maybe it just seems like a while ... internet withdrawls are seriously a bitch. This will be a short post, because I really detest (and I think you do too) these types of posts. Deep down. Like asking some stranger how they are and they actually say something other than "fine" or "can't complain" ~ but I digress ... as usual ~ some things never do change.

This has been a rough Summer. The house is in a state of hell. I can't blog about it (um ... Freedom of Speech anyone??) because it's now gone the legal, court-based route. But there is some light at the end of the tunnel ... maybe it's just a skylight or a break between tunnels ... maybe you're now wondering how much I've had to drink at this point ("and that was without a single drop of rum") .. but the light is there.

We once again took Tristan to the West Virginia State Fair for his birthday and that was fun. We try to do trips from us rather than gifts, so far it's a cool thing. He showed less interest in the animals than last year and more interest in the rides. He even mustered up the courage to ride the roller coaster 'The Wild Mouse.'

However, after standing in line with Justin & Shannon (can you see them in that pic?) for 10+ minutes, he was denied because he was, quite literally an INCH too short. He cried and had to walk off the platform. I wanted to punch the carny working the ride. I resisted the urge.

So, this was his make-up ride .. which Shannon didn't get to ride .. only him. The tears dried up quickly.

Then we all rode the ferris wheel. The boys' first time ever on one, and the first time I think we've ever ridden a carnival ride as a family. I took this shot from the top, looking back on everything.

Other than that trip and our trip to the beach, we've been homebodies this Summer. I've been trying to learn to crochet. So far, I've made an unimpressively snazzy Hokie colored garland (I plan to gussy it up to proper standards). After that I was feeling full of myself and attempted a circle. First attempt produced a nice Hokie-colored knot. Second attempt .. well .. ok, so I ended up making a Hokie-colored Willy Warmer. I got the circling part down, just not the keeping it flat and making it a larger circle. Life hands ya lemons ... whaddya gonna do? And are you really shocked that I ended up making a cock sock? -- And yea, I just called it that. Admit it, you might have spit out your drink, but you're still not that shocked.

So, I'm still working on the LEARNING to crochet part. Hopefully no more projects that I can't (or at least shouldn't) take pictures of being worn. I've also been ripping up old clothing so I can make a rag rug. This is what really got me started on the whole crochet kick.

With cooler weather approaching I'm also taking stock of what is needed to help keep my family healthy and well. Keep an eye on my kitchen blog, http://www.MamaTaneysKitchen.blogspot.com for more info on how that is going.

For those keeping any sort of count, or general passing interest, our English Mastiff, Foster, is 7 days away from being 5 months old and weighing in at 85 lbs. I'll re-weigh him on the 11th though and let you know.

The chickens are still laying, but not a lot. They're back out in the yard and happy about that, but they're also molting and it tends to look like a chicken exploded out there. August's Egg Tally was 31 eggs (up from July's Tally) and our Year To Date Egg Tally is 356. Not too bad.

There's more to say, but I'll end it here. Football Season is starting, and so we're consumed by that. And Halloween is around the corner .. and I am plotting and planning the decorations already. Cooler weather brings me back to life.

Centering amid the Chaos

2010-08-25T10:39:00.006-04:00

~Ok, the house doesn't actually look like this anymore, but it is how it feels a lot of the time still.~

The stress of remodeling is still upon us. Even though it isn't quite as messy as it was, it's still pretty cluttered and chaotic.

I haven't been talking much about the renovation and everything we're going through with Harmon because there is a lot going on that I'm not sure I really can talk about right now. Which feels like a violation of my rights. I should be able to express my own feelings, thoughts, and opinions. And shutting me up is a pretty hard-core thing (many people will attest to that), so it's been .. well, hard. I will post more when I know it is ok to though, I promise.

But among this hell, life must go on. You can't dwindle in it, you can't feel sorry for yourself. I've been following the updates from a gal I know who has cancer. She is so upbeat and positive and surrounded by love and support, that whenever I feel down I read her latest updates and feel grateful and empowered. Thank you Decca, you've always been an inspiration and you continue to amaze and inspire me.

But when the stress does get to me, I simply look at this:

I can't help but smile. I love Shannon's cocky expression, sure that all is well in life; and then there is Tristan's sweet face, but with tattoos on his arm lest you be fooled that he isn't a hellion too.

And looking at them, I know I can't let anger and frustration prevail. I must find a way to center myself and my world and be calm.

So, last night I broke down and splurged on two magazines. I did try to find their info online, but couldn't, so buying the magazines became justified. Some gals find sanctuary in Cosmo or Vogue, but I went to Lowe's and got a special publication from Better Homes & Gardens (yes, I'm obsessed with that magazine) called "Storage" ~ http://www.blogger.com/www.bhg.com/storageideas. With promises of bright colors, not clutter, no tumbleweeds of dog hair, and lots of wicker baskets, they assure me that life will be ok.

My second splurge was for a "This Old House" magazine ~ http://www.thisoldhouse.com/. "57 low-cost makeover ideas!" "15 paint schemes ~ 9 outdoor rooms ~ 11 kitchen upgrades ~ and more!"

Although magazines aren't usually a way to center oneself, I found these helpful. We're drowning in clutter and even some simple advice is helpful. Of course, I won't be rushing out to buy the $899 Stow & Go Hobby Cart from HowardMiller.com, but the idea of ottomans that double as storage is nice. And even those can be found for less than advertised, if not made at home. I also liked seeing different ways to store items bound for recycling. Currently we use old pickle buckets, but I feel like it looks like buckets of trash rather than "ooh, recycling!" ~ So there are lots of ideas to be gathered and time to mull them over, and this helps me re-group and find balance. To know that all is not lost, there is hope, and if you take your time you don't have to spend as much as they (those tricksy advertisers) want you to.

Other ways I've been trying to center myself involve the medicine cabinet and the kitchen. I read an interesting blog post (http://wholefoodusa.wordpress.com/2010/08/23/study-vitamin-d3-prevents-flu-better-than-vaccinesanti-virals/) the other day and have been seeking out kid-friendly, kid-approved cod liver oil supplements. We don't do flu vaccines around here, but since we do belong to the Y now I worry about the general "Y Bug" with cold season approaching.

This has taken me into re-examining our medicine cabinet. Along this path I stumbled upon another blog post: http://www.passionatehomemaking.com/2009/10/stocking-your-natural-herbal-medicine-cabinet.html. Aren't blogs awesome? Passionate Homemaking, sounds good to me!

And, looking into the kitchen, I find myself yearning to get a huge stock pot of chicken stock going. http://mamataneyskitchen.blogspot.com/2009/02/jewish-penicillin.html ~ This is one of my favorite things to make. There is something soul-satisfying in taking things that would normally be tossed out with the trash in our society and turning them into something that will heal and restore us. I love it.

There is lots of chaos around us, but we must not give in to it. We must look it in the eye, smile, and stay calm & grounded. Chaos feeds on chaos. Center yourself and the chaos will prove not much more trouble than a cloud in the sky.

The Losers

2010-08-21T21:35:00.003-04:00

~Yea .. not those Losers. We aren't that cool. Or that buff ... *sigh*~

It's a really wonderful moment when you realize that you are the Losers of your family. I've been getting hints for a while, but after today I know it for sure. And it's a wonderful moment.

I mean, just our mere presence makes everyone else in the family instantly look better. We're like the ugly fat chick for family gatherings. The poor, white trash of the uppity uppity crust of the uber cool family members.

So what happened today that made me really realize this? Well, it wasn't the usual comment of "No, no, no ... you don't give people presents" (cuz, you know, we're too broke for that). Or, when I mentioned I had only gained 18 pounds while pregnant with Tristan, and a certain grandmother replied "Well, I was told to only gain ONE POUND per month while pregnant!" -- Gee .. and I bet they told you to smoke and drink too, didn't they?

No .. today wasn't really that unusual. It was rather normal actually. Justin and I were outside. He was cleaning out the front garden beds. I was sitting on our new front porch furniture (finally, something that doesn't fall apart when you sit on it!! WOO HOO!!), cutting up old clothing for future use -- crocheting into rag rugs! The kids were inside, taking naps, though they came out and joined us, riding their bikes, when they woke up. Sounds fine, right? --- Yea ... apparently you aren't from here.

Like I said, we got new front porch furniture this year. It was a bitch browsing for it all online. It isn't called porch furniture anymore .. what we got is now referred to as "Chat Sets" -- but that's the rub of it all. Apparently you aren't really supposed to sit out on your "chat set" ... especially not doing anything ... having a drink and doing something "uber yuppie" might be ok .. but really, REALLY all you are supposed to do is chat ABOUT your new chat set. That's the only appropriate thing to do. So .. by using our "chat set" we've completely ruined it's good standing and we might as well have an old couch and recliner out there now. TOTALLY UNWORTHY.

I was greeted with a "hi there" hug from a relative whom I supposedly have a lot in common with. Wouldn't know .. he won't really talk to me. Anyway, the first comment I got from him was how I looked like it was hot out. Or something like that. Pretty much a "aren't you sweaty and stinky and not looking lady-like and dressed up" type of comment. Gee .. thanks, good to see you too. -- FYI, I am Southern. These types of comments are nothing new in my world and I've been known to dish them out too. I call them "Complisults" -- compliment + insult .... you get it, right?

Justin's yard work was looked upon as worthy and something to be proud of. My cutting up old shirts was given a quizzical look. When I told them it was for crocheting into rag rugs it was given a mild nod of approval, but without that "hmmmm" that follows with something that is more tolerated than approved of.

The overall visit lasted less than 10 minutes. More a tour of the horror of renovations gone wrong than a visit. I call this type of thing "Pretending to Be Family."

I could imagine them running from the house, seeking sanitizer as quickly as possible, as well as air conditioning. Perhaps even one of those sticky-tape rollers that gets any hint of animal hair or stray hair or life off of your clothing.

So .. to my very big family .. you're welcome. You're welcome that we're the Losers. We make you look so fucking cool. Because .. you know, we actually do our own yard work. And our house isn't spic-n-span all the time, and our kids run around outside so they aren't spic-n-span all the time either, and we work on things and don't have AC so we might actually look like we've been working in the yard .. as opposed to some ad that shows happy, unsweaty people working in pretty matchy clothing -- you know, Martha Stewart kind of people.
And, it doesn't matter what else we do. It doesn't matter that we upcycle and re-use things. It doesn't matter that our meat is pasture-raised and local. It doesn't matter that we put our own food by. It doesn't matter that we didn't learn these skills through highly priced foodie classes but from digging through old cookbooks and websites and etc. It doesn't matter that we get by on one income, and that we've done so since Justin graduated from college and got his first job out of college. None of this matters.
One Christmas, several years back now but still infamous, I made a very special gift for everyone. Chateau Morrisette makes a Cabernet Fudge Sauce that you can buy for $16 (this was several years ago, I don't know the price now) in a tall skinny bottle. It is devine. Anyway, I go online and research and research till I find a recipe and reproduce it and give it away as gifts. And people look quizzical and ask "what is it for?" "What do I do with it?" I am guessing it is still in some cupboards if it hasn't already been thrown away. -- The truth? If it came with a fancy label from a winery they'd brag about it. It's like some weird status symbol. They don't really know what to do with it but they can brag about it because none of their friends do either.

Anyway .. this is how we became the Losers. Or at least one of the ways. They might try to gussy it up and say that we're hippies, perhaps bohemian (although I don't think we're artsy enough in their minds to qualify .. and I simply just do not look good in black). Something like that. But the truth is what it is. And I would be hesitant about blogging about such and issue, but the funny thing is that no matter how much they may brag to me about my writing talent, unless I post it on Facebook or I tell them directly to check out this blog, there is a very, very, very slim chance they'll ever read this.

So .. the only question that remains is this: if we're The Losers, then who am I?? Am I Clay? Jenson? Cougar? Pooch? Roque?? The chick? hmmm..

Week 2 of the No Poo Challenge

2010-08-16T14:14:00.004-04:00

~ Are you sure we're not at the beach?? Cuz all I see are some serious waves! ~

We're now officially into Week 2 of the No Poo Challenge. As you can hopefully see from the photo above, it's not going too bad either!!! Hello hair!!

Since my last post though it's been an interesting ride. The boys' hair looks fantastic, I don't think they've had ANY transition issues at all!! Lucky little turds.
My hair on the other hand has been through a lot of changes. From dried and fried to otter-oily. I've had to say farewell to my beloved Mason Pearson paddle brush (for straight, fine hair) and learn to brush my hair like I brush Shannon's: wet it down first, brush gently, keep it damp & then let it air dry.

There have been a couple days where I spent most of the time it seemed day-dreaming about shampooing my hair. I seemed to have a greasy/oily spot near the crown of my head on my right hand side and it REALLY drove me up the wall. I have no clue why it was there, it just was and I hated it. I hung in there though and didn't shampoo.

From the posts I've read though of other people who've gone through this I've decided to try and wear my hair down and loose as much as I can, which isn't easy with the recent weather we've been having. It seemed that the people who this challenge didn't work for wore their hair up for most of the challenge ~ hence my decision to wear it down as often as possible.

Like I said earlier, I've also quit washing my hair everyday. This is something that was a definite and absolute must-do before this challenge. Now I wash it roughly every other day. I also have changed up the baking soda ratio a little, as well as how I make it. Originally I was going with the 1 TB baking soda per 1 cup water, which was working out 2 TB baking soda per bottle (I'm using an old shampoo bottle), pouring in the baking soda & then filling the bottle with water & shaking it all up.
I realized a couple of things though: 1) the bottle holds a little over 2 cups worth of water & 2) it's a white bottle, which means I can't tell how well the baking soda was mixing with the water versus just collecting on the bottom of the bottle.
So now I fill the bottle mostly full with water, then I add 3 TB baking soda, then shake. This seems to be working out much better for me and my hair feels much nicer to boot.

And now .. well, it's looking good!! My hair feels normal, and looks great. Justin commented on the waves the other day, saying that it looked like I had just come out of the ocean and let my hair dry & how much he liked it.
I've also noticed that my hair is taking curls in general better. If I wrap my hair around my finger and hold it for a while I'll wind up with a nice little spiral curl for a bit. I'm really tempted to try out pin curls now, something I wouldn't have dreamed of trying before because I know they wouldn't have stayed or likely even taken.
My ends still feel dry, but then again I was thinking how I was about due for a haircut while we were at the beach .. at the end of June!! I haven't had my hair cut in a long time. So long I don't remember when it was. Early Spring maybe?? Yea, I think that's when it was. Ok, 5 months, so I guess it hasn't been that long, but still .. I'm due for a trim. And, as far as the ends go, I've also dyed my hair blonde (month or two ago), been out in some serious sun, been to the beach, and spent lots of time in the pool. I can't really say that the ends being dried has anything in the least little bit to do with this experiment.

So there you have it. Going into Week 2 I'm really loving this challenge. It was hard to see light at the end of the tunnel and some days I longed to shampoo my hair, but I am glad I didn't. This is awesome.

No-Poo Challenge - Week 1

2010-08-09T19:52:00.003-04:00

No photos here, just a quick update on the no-poo challenge.

So .. I washed my hair this morning with the baking soda mixture & "conditioned" it with my homemade conditioner. I think the last time I did this was Friday. Between Friday and today all I had done was rinse my hair with water.

How'd the weekend go?

Well, my hair is definitely in the transitional phase of it all. It doesn't look greasy or weighed down, which is really surprising because before all of this I had to wash it daily or it WOULD look like that.
By Sunday evening though I could see my roots beginning to look greasy, and by this morning I was wanting to wash my hair. But only because of the roots looking funky.

The overall length of my hair has been a different story. If I brush it out it becomes very "poofy" and "fluffy" (what a friend of mine described it as today ~ very kind and diplomatic of her!). I think it looks frizzy and a mess. I've had to brush it out a couple of times if I want to be able to pull it back properly (short layers won't stay back otherwise).
I had it up today and took it down to show friends how it was going. Hence the above comment. They were kind friends. I then proceeded to have one of my dirtiest hippie moments yet where I went to the water fountain and .. no I didn't stick my head under it .. but I did scoop several handfuls of water onto my hair to try and show them what it looked like wet & not so "fluffy." -- the wet hair was a bonus as the park was HOT today!!

When it is wet it feels completely different. I can feel the natural oils beginning to coat my hair. I'm trying to appreciate it, but it's difficult to get used to.
1) I remind myself (or something like that) of a sea otter or something. Water rolling off my hair rather than being absorbed into it. It makes me wonder if my hair was just truly stripped and dried out before, begging for moisture. I can definitely feel more water dripping off my hair than used to though. It's odd.
2) When I'm rinsing through my hair I can feel the oils on my hand. This part I'm not so thrilled with and I have to keep talking myself through. I'll admit, I did wash my hands with soap after doing that in the shower this morning. -- But on the other hand, I've washed my hands after I've come home from getting a haircut and have been running my hands through my hair. For that matter, I usually come home and wash my hair too because they make my hair feel greasy. ~ So .. which one is right? What is normal??

The transition phase really isn't so hard, but it does make me wonder if I'll get through it and my hair/scalp will get back to natural. It's always hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel I suppose.
I'm glad it is Summer and I can wear my hair up. I do like how my hair looks when it is down and hasn't been brushed. That is a completely different thing for me. I was "Marsha Marsha Marsha" about brushing my hair with my Mason Pearson hair brush. No more. It is bittersweet and I am not 100% in it yet.
I've been trying to leave my hair down though as much as possible to try and let it be natural. Bundling it up close to my head doesn't seem to be the right thing. Gotta let it breathe and live.

As for the boys. They look fantastic, particularly Shannon whose curls are eating this up. Guess years & years of damage hasn't been done to their scalps yet. But even Tristan's hair hasn't looked greasy or flat or anything like that. And, for the record, they get their hair washed on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

I'll post photos soon, I promise.

Got Ants?? PB&J to the rescue!!

2010-08-07T23:33:00.005-04:00

You know you're livin' la vida natural when your kids mark the Seasons by the critters that invade your house. It's only slightly embarrassing when they write to their penpals about it ...

Anyway, ants are the pest du jour. And toxins aren't our cup of tea. Ant traps can sometime work, but it's still a toxin. DE (diatomaceous earth) works ... at least eventually. So what are you supposed to do till then?? How about some PB&J??

~August 2nd, 10:30pm ~ Oh yea .. there is some serious snackin' going on there!!~

PB&J Ant Solution:
*Equal parts peanut butter, jelly, & borax
*Mix together well, set in a bowl in the ants' pathway.
*VERY IMPORTANT -- KEEP AWAY FROM KIDS & PETS!! Borax is natural but deadly!!

We noticed the ants in the kitchen (and other windows) after we had our windows professionally cleaned. They had vacuumed up the DE that was in the windowsills and the ants returned, trying to reclaim the land they thought rightfully belonged to them. Those ant bastards.

So .. we mixed up the pb&j mixture. There weren't any ants around the container immediately. The above and below photo were taken about 2 hours after we had set out the bowl!!

~August 2nd, 10:30pm, close-up ~ Before this, we had only seen about 10 ants here!!! Start counting if you want, but there is WAY more than 10 here now!!~

It's an ant smorgasborg!!! Immediately the ants began swarming to the Pb&J bowl. It was really kinda amazing.

~August 3rd, 8:20am ~ Where'd the ants go?? Is the party over??~

This is what we awoke to the next morning. The party was over. As the hours passed on, the ant numbers dwindled. Some of the ants in that photo are already dead (closer to the pb&j), some are alive (running around the rim of the dish). But the party was over.

We've used this solution before in the bathroom, where we really had a stream of ants coming in from the window. We've actually placed it back in there. No, doing this won't keep them away forever. Take away the bowl and eventually the ants will come back. This recipe will solve your current ant problem. If you keep it there, it'll attract the ants and the borax in the pb&j mixture will kill them. If you take it away though, eventually the ants figure it out and come back.

But .. till then, it DOES work. If you have cats who like to check out your windowsills I may not recommend this. We keep this stuff perched up high and out of the way of nosy critters -- dogs and kids alike. You could likely cover it with some mesh wire or screen, but know your pets and use your instincts.

Till then .. cats aside, here's an eco-friendly alternative for ant control.

No-Poo Photo Documentation

2010-08-06T18:57:00.004-04:00

Obviously this wasn't meant as a photo of my hair. This is me holding Foster. But the photo was taken on Saturday July 31st, the first day of my no-poo challenge.

The rest of the photos were taken today, Friday August 6th:

From the front: my hair up with my kick-ass cool hair fork. You can see my roots ~ not looking too greasy. (Photo was taken without the use of flash)

Hair still up. You can see the hair fork a little better. This photo was taken with the flash on.

Here's my hair down. Note that there is a fan directly behind me. (See that first photo of my hair up). Like I said, I am impressed with the shine I've seen today, it's been a while since my hair has been shiny. Plus, the green streaks from the pool seem to be finally fading away .... I don't miss them.

The boys, their hair still wet from baths. Both had their hair "washed" with the baking soda & water mixture. Tristan got a little spot of his head washed with the Neutrogena T-Gel shampoo just because of that little cradle cap spot that won't go away (but is starting to finally!!).

*More No-Poo photos to follow as the days go on!!

Taking the No-Poo Challenge

2010-08-06T14:01:00.006-04:00

~Herbal & healthy?? I don't think so. Bye bye Shampoo!! ~

I was hesitant to write about this. I've just started and wasn't sure if I should write about it now or later. Hmmmm ... what to do??? What the hell, I'll start now.

You may be aware that there is a lot of talk going on about ditching the shampoo & going truly natural. A quick search online will yield a number of sites, blogs, articles, and even videos. Here is a link to the one that made me take the plunge: http://simplemom.net/how-to-clean-your-hair-without-shampoo/

Since there is SO much info out there, I won't go into a lot of the why details here. But I will share with you a few that really made me willing to try this:

1) I'm a fan of history and I think most answers can be found by looking to the past to see how things were done then. At least the general day to day stuff. I found this great article online - http://thephoenix.com/boston/life/40141-no-poo-do/. ~ Did you know the first commercial shampoo wasn't even invented until 1930?? It was Breck. Now, think of all the old photos you've seen of people with very gorgeous hair & hairstyles. Arguably much better hairstyles than we see now a-days too! I think they may have been onto something...

2) Toxins In - Toxins Out. ~ There are some really scary things in shampoos!! Shampoos are detergents. It used to be that people could safely & effectively wash their hair with soap because it can remove dirt without removing important oils. However, when water in civilized areas began becoming more alkaline (mineral heavy), soap quit working as well. The combination makes scales on the hair stand up, making it rougher & weaker. Soap in alkaline water leaves soap scum. So ... detergent "shampoo" to the rescue.
But there are lot of other chemicals in shampoo too! Sodium Lauryl Sulfate (SLS) and Sodium Laureth Sulfate (SLFS) are lathering agents found in most soaps, shampoos, toothpastes, and even mouthwashes. They're also known eye & skin irritants. And, just because you're shopping the organic aisle don't think they're not there. I'm looking at my bottle of Nature's Gate Herbal Shampoo & there they are!! Don't believe me?? Here's their website: https://www.natures-gate.com/shop/showItem.asp?ProductId=41101181&menuId=137

Trying to figure out some of the ingredients led me to these websites:

*http://www.hallgold.com/toxic-chemical-ingredients-directory.htm#Cocoamidopropyl

*http://www.sixwise.com/newsletters/05/05/03/the-most-toxic-soaps-and-shampoos-well-worth-avoiding.htm

.... known carcinogens, skin irritants, eye irritants, stuff that leads to increases of kidney and liver cancer, and so on and so on. And you want me to put that where?? And use it on my children!?!?!?
We're trying to lead healthy lives, natural lives, safe lives. This isn't what I signed up for.

3) The Benjamins & the Lincolns ~ Let's face it, you can pay a pretty penny for "good" shampoo. Good shampoo that is all natural. That will make your hair vibrant and full. If you've read any of the above links you've already figured out a couple of things: 1st - things aren't as natural as they claim to be; AND 2nd - shampoo your hair, you need to condition it, then you need the styling products, and then you're gonna need that shampoo again. It's a vicious and EXPENSIVE cycle. And I'm just talking about the costs you spend in the hair-care aisle of the grocery store, not the long-term, hidden costs!! Don't know about you, but I have better things to spend my money on.

So there are my main reasons and motivators.

But .. how is it going??? First off - my hair is thick but fine. Typically I can't go more than one day without washing it. Often I can feel it getting greasy by the end of the evening. Bedhead in the morning is a must-wash-out! My hair is also fairly straight, though thanks to pregnancies I now have some slight waves.

Saturday July 31 ~ My first day with no-poo. I used the baking soda mixture to wash my hair and rinsed it with conditioner we already use (beer, chamomile tea, and lemon juice). My hair was actually feeling really nice after this.
Sunday August 1 ~ I dyed my hair this day with some henna dye. I broke down and used the shampoo/treatment & echinacea conditioner that came with it.

Monday August 2 - Thursday August 5 ~ My roots have been feeling good, not greasy at all. However, the rest of my hair has been feeling dried and fried. Luckily it is Summer & my hair is up, so it isn't noticeable. I skipped washing my hair on Thursday, thinking I could maybe go a day without now. I could, but by Thursday evening my roots were greasy & I was beginning to freak out a little. Was my hair fried from that last time I dyed it blonde?!? Was I doing something wrong? I went online for more research. -- Deep breath .. your hair WILL go through a transitional period. I heard of other people going through this and how it eventually went away. I decided to take a nice bath and relax. While soaking, I laid down with my hair under the water and worked my fingers from scalp to ends repeatedly. When I got out of the bath I immediately noticed a difference. My hair that had been feeling fried wasn't anymore. I think I can persevere through.
Friday August 6 ~ This morning I went to the gym. Nice & Schweaty. Got home and noticed some dandruff on my scalp. Ok. Washed my hair with the baking soda mixture & rinsed it with my usual conditioner (though I have added a little bit of apple cider vinegar to it). My hair is no longer feeling fried, which is nice. The roots are still feeling a little greasy, but not in the "normal" way. My roots aren't glued to my scalp and looking nasty as usually happens when my hair is greasy. I actually have volume! A quick look in the mirror reveals shiny hair, something else I've been lacking for a while. Definitely not looking like "dirty, greasy, needs-to-be-washed!" hair!!
I've read people talk about feeling a "coating" on their hair, where the natural oils have begun to return and coat hair as they're meant to. I'm guessing, hoping, this is what I'm feeling now. We'll see.

There ya go though. I'm a little under my first week of the no-poo challenge. I'll update again as I continue on. I plan to give this challenge, at the very minimum, two weeks. I've read where people advise giving it 4 - 6 weeks though, and I think I'll really shoot for that. If it works out, it'll become a way of life.

And, yes, for the record, the kids are going on this challenge with me. When camping last year we noticed that Shannon's hair looked better and better the longer we went without shampooing it. Tristan's hair is more like mine or Justin's. He has a cradle cap spot that has never gone fully away, so I had broken down and bought some Nuetrogena T-Gel shampoo (which DID get rid of it!). But we're working on switching him fully over too. Justin hasn't been convinced ... yet. I'm not going to force him to switch. I might try to convince him, but I won't force him. At least not until the shampoo supplies completely run out. ;) hahaha

Have you taken the No-Poo challenge?? How did it work? How long a transition period did you have to go through? Did you like you hair? I wanna hear from you!!

How to Clean the (Kiddie) Pool

2010-07-30T14:10:00.006-04:00

Kiddie pools can get pretty funky pretty quickly. But what's the best way to clean them??
You can get down on your hands and knees in the hot sun and scrub n' cuss away. Or you can do it a little differently. Think Sam from Benny & Joon.

First - get on a nice thick pair of socks. I put on my fleece socks (usually reserved for rocking Birk sandals in the Winter) - they're purple and green and perfect.

Second - Get some good music & play it through headphones. If you don't have an MP3 armband holder & are lacking pockets, tuck the player inside your pants or underwear. This will provide double protection from water.

Third - Now take a hold of your soul!! -- sorry .. I wasn't really jamming to Kenny Loggins. But I was in the pool dancing kinda like Kevin Bacon.

Headphone (ear buds?) in, music rocking, socks on, I step in the pool and get to dancing. You wanna drain almost all the water out of the pool, but leave enough to slosh around just a bit. Or you can do this in a completely empty kiddie pool after a rain storm. Your choice, no rules set in stone.

And that is where I was this afternoon. Dancing like a fool in the empty kiddie pool with big, thick, fleece socks on that were soaking wet. Sliding around like Kevin Bacon in Footloose. Cleaning & boogeying.

I set the pool up on it's end to finish getting the gunk out. It's an inflatable pool & it was fun to shoot it with the hose, GIRL POWER ROCKS!, till it fell back over into place.

A pair of blueish-green eyes under a mop of red hair appeared in the window, watching me. I was now out of the pool, but I know I had been being watched for a bit. Benny & Joon came back to mind and I was letting my feet dance like muffins.

And .. there you go. A much more fun way to clean out a kiddie pool. Now, excuse me while I run to turn off the water, I think my pool floweth over!

From Grandma's House

2010-07-26T21:12:00.005-04:00

The boys spent the night at Grandma's house this past Saturday night. It's always interesting to here the stories from the nights they spend there. I thought I'd share one of the latest ones with y'all. We're so proud.

The Scene: The outside patio at Grandma's house. Shannon, Tristan, & Grandma are hanging out. Grandma has a fast-food cheeseburger out there.

Grandma: Are y'all ready to go inside?

Shannon: Yea, cuz you're cheeseburger smells like ass.

Grandma: Shannon! Where'd you learn that?!?

Shannon: I didn't say it. My eye did.

Grandma: Ok, where'd your eye learn that?

Shannon: My other eye.

Grandma: Where'd THAT eye learn it from?

Shannon: Tristan.

... You gotta admit it, that kid is gonna have some really interesting excuses as he grows up!

Remodeling Update - yea..

2010-07-25T21:39:00.003-04:00

I wanted to think of a cuter title. Like "Hell's Kitchen" but too many people know that as a tv show. Or "Dog Days of Summer" but I'm not upset with my dogs. So .. yea ...

The last time I blogged about the remodeling we were entering month 2. We now have not had ANY work done since June 24th. We haven't seen him since the 27th, the day we left for the beach, and haven't talked to him since either, despite numerous phone calls and even a couple of visits by his house. Wonderful.

We've had the City Building Inspector out. Apparently our house was VERY, VERY dangerous for us to be living in. The bastard .. I'm sorry, contractor, took the chimney down beginning on May 6th. It was an old brick chimey that vented the gas boiler heater and the gas-powered hot water heater. He was supposed to re-route it all and vent it out the side of the house & up the outside wall, above the roof. He never did. He capped off the old chimney at the kitchen floor with some wood, let it be, and hopped on to the laundry room. He NEVER went back to the chimney, meaning all those gases were just venting into the house. Luckily, we have LOTS of fans and a couple carbon monoxide detectors.
Per the City Inspector's demanding, we've now had the water heater temporarily vented out so that we all can still live in our home.

We've had to replace a piece of "wall" behind the kitchen sink because where he removed the laminate that was there and left it with the old, exposed walling, black mold had begun to grow. Again, not safe.

But what about Harmon?? Well, legally we've had to send him a letter letting him know that he has 15 days to complete the work (hey, his new girlfriend signed for the letter on the 15th, so let the countdown begin!) or give us ALL of our money back. Failure to do either will result in legal action being taken. --- Since I don't know who all reads this (he has seen the blog before), I will keep mum about the next steps there ... for now.

We've had other contractors in, trying to get estimates to finish the job. So far, the estimates have ranged from roughly $12,000 to between $20,000 & $30,000. Yikes!!

On an odd note, we've had two contractors who haven't given us their estimates yet! I called them both on Friday but havne't heard anything back from either of them yet. Not even an "I'm too busy" or "I simply don't wanna" call. If I don't hear from them soon I'll let you know. In fact, I'll be so nice as to let you know their names too. They're both local guys.

And that is where we are for now. Till July 30th .. which is, of course, only 5 days away. We had been taking bets on Facebook on when he would show back up & when the work would be done. There were a lot of "Never!" votes. I can't call it until all is said and done with, but I PROMISE there will be a winner or winners as the case may be.

In the mean time, since I didn't post any photos on here, feel free to amuse yourself (if you want to anyway) and check out the remodeling hell photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/funkymamataney/sets/72157624437011151/ --- these are the photos of all the things left undone, done wrong, 1/2 done, fucked up, and things that left us lucky to be alive.

** PS ~ At this point I can very, very safely recommend NEVER EVER EVER hiring David Wayne Harmon to work on your home!!!