The last couple of weeks has been like a pot of boiling water. The water starts out very still and everything looks to be fine. Then some action begins to take place and the surface of the water begins to vibrate, ripple and the realization that something is not quite right begins to register. When the water reaches a full boil, all hell has broken loose and if there was a potato in the water the pot is boiling over, making a huge mess.
Finally it becomes obvious that it's time to turn the switch off. Doing that doesn't immediately calm the water, but at least it is a step in the right direction. After everything cools down, there is a chance to clean up the mess, discard half a roll of paper towels in the trash and be done with it. That's where I am, done with it.
I've never truly burnt a bridge in my entire life. I always ran back, with a bucket of water, to douse the flames. Leaving just enough of a timber or two to walk across, just in case the other side wanted to come back.
Not this time. I didn't have to actually set it on fire. Instead I took a chain saw and cut through the supports at each end and watched that puppy fall into the depths of a ravine. It was the most liberating feeling I've ever experienced. Too bad I didn't have this mindset when I was 18, could have saved myself a lot of grief.
Sometimes I have to flip the switch on my creativity. Yesterday in the studio, I broke a piece I was working on. That rarely happens but when it does, I know it's time to push back and walk away. So that's what I did and now my kitchen is cleaner than it has been in quite some time and even the vacuum got a good workout.
Life deals us a hand of cards to play for as long as we have the chance. Sometimes we know how to play and sometimes we spend a great deal of time just learning the game. Sometimes we have to fold, push back from the table and take a moment to reflect on how we could have played it better.
I've been dealt a new hand. There's five aces in it. Hmm....a stacked deck, this time it's in my favor. One to have up my sleeve and I'm going to hold for a very long time.
May life deal you a fresh hand, may you find in it five aces too.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Self Help in a Nutshell
If you type "self help" in the search bar on Amazon.com you will have over 200,000 books to choose from. That information alone tells us two things. First, self help stuff sells and two, there are lots of people looking for help.
Somewhere in this house is a box full of self help books. Most of them I've read and most of them pretty much say the same thing.
They will tell you to have a plan. That's a pretty good idea. If there is something you want to do or change, it's important to figure out just how you're going to do it. It's like making plans for a trip across the country, if you have a map, it is easier to stay on course.
Positive affirmations is another thing that lots of self help books teach. Most people roll their eyes at making positive affirmations to themselves. The thought of standing in front of the mirror saying things like, "I'm the very best I can be, all day, every day" seems like a lot of B.S. But think about this for a minute. How many people do you know who say the following things, to themselves, on a daily basis: "I'm an idiot", "I'm always broke", "I'm fat", "I will never amount to anything"? I know a young man who constantly uses his family history as an affirmation to getting absolutely no where in life. And guess what? As sad as that is, he's right. So in retrospect, positive affirmations can really work wonders.
Like it or not, humans looks at other humans on three levels. We either look down at someone, look up to someone or see someone at the level we see ourselves. Perhaps that is just human nature, but you can walk into any school, church, office building or anyplace that humans gather and see this happening in full living color. It is this very reason that every self help book will tell you to surround yourself with like minded people and it is probably the most important lesson anyone could ever learn.
If you want to learn to weld, do you seek out a nurse? If you want to be a pilot, do you spend all your time with people who only drive tractors? Of course not, you look for the people who do the things you want to do. That makes perfect sense.
It also makes perfect sense that if things are not going the way you plan, maybe it's time to take a look at your surroundings. I do not advocate looking down at other people because I am a Grand Master at trying to find the good in others. Nor do I think it is healthy to put people too high on a pedestal. The higher they are placed, the further they have to fall and the bigger your disappointment in them will be. If you are wasting your talents on people who don't want to be what you want to be, or don't really give a hoot about what you want to be, it's time to change.
Sometimes that is a hard thing to do, some of the people you may need to walk away from could be your friends or your family. But look at it this way, if your talent or job is to cheer up a room full of depressed people and you go in without reinforcements, you will soon find yourself just as depressed. It's like running around pumping up tires that have a hole in them, by the time you get the last one done , the first one needs air again. Before you know it, your tire is flat too. There is strong meaning in the phrase, "Don't cast your pearls to the swine".
So there you have it. You need a plan. You need a mentor in the same field you are interested in. You need to make sure that the majority of people you hang out with share your dream, or at least your enthusiasm. Simple? Yes, it is, but there's one more part to the equation. It's called action.
You can read all the books until your eyeballs fall out in your lap. You can fill your brain with infinite amounts of wisdom and knowledge. But, if you don't do something with it, well, that's just a waste of your precious time.
Somewhere in this house is a box full of self help books. Most of them I've read and most of them pretty much say the same thing.
They will tell you to have a plan. That's a pretty good idea. If there is something you want to do or change, it's important to figure out just how you're going to do it. It's like making plans for a trip across the country, if you have a map, it is easier to stay on course.
Positive affirmations is another thing that lots of self help books teach. Most people roll their eyes at making positive affirmations to themselves. The thought of standing in front of the mirror saying things like, "I'm the very best I can be, all day, every day" seems like a lot of B.S. But think about this for a minute. How many people do you know who say the following things, to themselves, on a daily basis: "I'm an idiot", "I'm always broke", "I'm fat", "I will never amount to anything"? I know a young man who constantly uses his family history as an affirmation to getting absolutely no where in life. And guess what? As sad as that is, he's right. So in retrospect, positive affirmations can really work wonders.
Like it or not, humans looks at other humans on three levels. We either look down at someone, look up to someone or see someone at the level we see ourselves. Perhaps that is just human nature, but you can walk into any school, church, office building or anyplace that humans gather and see this happening in full living color. It is this very reason that every self help book will tell you to surround yourself with like minded people and it is probably the most important lesson anyone could ever learn.
If you want to learn to weld, do you seek out a nurse? If you want to be a pilot, do you spend all your time with people who only drive tractors? Of course not, you look for the people who do the things you want to do. That makes perfect sense.
It also makes perfect sense that if things are not going the way you plan, maybe it's time to take a look at your surroundings. I do not advocate looking down at other people because I am a Grand Master at trying to find the good in others. Nor do I think it is healthy to put people too high on a pedestal. The higher they are placed, the further they have to fall and the bigger your disappointment in them will be. If you are wasting your talents on people who don't want to be what you want to be, or don't really give a hoot about what you want to be, it's time to change.
Sometimes that is a hard thing to do, some of the people you may need to walk away from could be your friends or your family. But look at it this way, if your talent or job is to cheer up a room full of depressed people and you go in without reinforcements, you will soon find yourself just as depressed. It's like running around pumping up tires that have a hole in them, by the time you get the last one done , the first one needs air again. Before you know it, your tire is flat too. There is strong meaning in the phrase, "Don't cast your pearls to the swine".
So there you have it. You need a plan. You need a mentor in the same field you are interested in. You need to make sure that the majority of people you hang out with share your dream, or at least your enthusiasm. Simple? Yes, it is, but there's one more part to the equation. It's called action.
You can read all the books until your eyeballs fall out in your lap. You can fill your brain with infinite amounts of wisdom and knowledge. But, if you don't do something with it, well, that's just a waste of your precious time.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Bottle Mania
Now about those bleach bottles......
Having watched entirely too many Youtube videos on gardening ideas, I came up with one of my own.
Recently, if you've been following along, Ms. Sassafrass and I made the hanging bottle tower strawberry planter out of 2 liter plastic bottles. Here's a picture in case you missed this wonderment of discarded 2 liter bottle finessiness:
With the lovely Ms. Sassafrass striking a pose.
The hanging bottle tower strawberry planter has since been moved outdoors and looks pretty much like it did when we constructed it. I'm thinking I got a bad batch of strawberries, from a local big box store, as they still look like dead crawdads sticking out the sides of the planter. I'll give them another week or so, before replacing them with something else.
The next bottle project came from watching a lady make a garden planter with yet another 2 liter bottle attached to a mop handle. It wasn't something I wanted to make, but it did get me to thinking about some bleach bottles I had laying around.
I've always wanted to do some kind of hanging planter that could be attached to a 4x4 post. We have a deck out our back door that is covered by a pergola, plus another large pergola that covers one of the patios. There is no lack of 4x4 post to be adorned. I always wanted to wrap them with lights at Christmas time, but my husband nixed that idea with the "look". Sigh......he was right, my reindeer are still sitting outside, but at least I have managed to get them moved to the basement door. Shoot, it's only April.
There seems to be a certain style to the molded handle on certain bleach bottles. One would think they would be universal in their design, but some of the handles have a curve in them, while the others make an angle, providing a straight side to the outside edge of the handle.
I took this particular style of bleach bottle and held it upside down, with the straight edge of the handle against the post. It fit perfectly flat against the side and provided a perfect trajectory angle of the bottle away from the post. I was on to something!
I gathered six bleach bottles, cut the bottoms off of them and drilled a small hole, for draining, in the lid. I then gathered several zip ties for holding the bottles to the posts. God made zip ties because He wants us to be happy, they are a most useful creation. I used six bottles because I didn't just want one per post, oh no, I wanted 3 on one post.
Thinking I might improve the image of the bleach bottle, I spray painted them grey. I thought they might look good in a variety of colors, but decided to wait until I could see the finished product. The goal of which would have been to keep someone from driving by and saying "Are those bleach jugs she's got tied to those posts?"
I strapped the bottles to the posts and "Viola!", the end result was just what I had wanted to achieve. Why, they didn't look like bleach bottles tied on a post at all! I'm sure you will agree:
They have been filled with potting soil and plants and so far, things are good.
I awoke at midnight to the sound of 50 mph plus straight line winds moving through the area. I truly expected to get up this morning and find my bottles somewhere over in the neighbors backyard, but to my amazement, they had survived the storm. One was a little cattiwampus, but I was able to adjust it back to its original position. I may need to add a few more zip ties. I found some really wide zip ties on line, but the purpose of the project was to be cost effective, the wide zip ties did not fall into that category. I will continue to ponder on what might be a better attachment system.
Now, for the next project.........
Having watched entirely too many Youtube videos on gardening ideas, I came up with one of my own.
Recently, if you've been following along, Ms. Sassafrass and I made the hanging bottle tower strawberry planter out of 2 liter plastic bottles. Here's a picture in case you missed this wonderment of discarded 2 liter bottle finessiness:
The hanging bottle tower strawberry planter has since been moved outdoors and looks pretty much like it did when we constructed it. I'm thinking I got a bad batch of strawberries, from a local big box store, as they still look like dead crawdads sticking out the sides of the planter. I'll give them another week or so, before replacing them with something else.
The next bottle project came from watching a lady make a garden planter with yet another 2 liter bottle attached to a mop handle. It wasn't something I wanted to make, but it did get me to thinking about some bleach bottles I had laying around.
I've always wanted to do some kind of hanging planter that could be attached to a 4x4 post. We have a deck out our back door that is covered by a pergola, plus another large pergola that covers one of the patios. There is no lack of 4x4 post to be adorned. I always wanted to wrap them with lights at Christmas time, but my husband nixed that idea with the "look". Sigh......he was right, my reindeer are still sitting outside, but at least I have managed to get them moved to the basement door. Shoot, it's only April.
There seems to be a certain style to the molded handle on certain bleach bottles. One would think they would be universal in their design, but some of the handles have a curve in them, while the others make an angle, providing a straight side to the outside edge of the handle.
I took this particular style of bleach bottle and held it upside down, with the straight edge of the handle against the post. It fit perfectly flat against the side and provided a perfect trajectory angle of the bottle away from the post. I was on to something!
I gathered six bleach bottles, cut the bottoms off of them and drilled a small hole, for draining, in the lid. I then gathered several zip ties for holding the bottles to the posts. God made zip ties because He wants us to be happy, they are a most useful creation. I used six bottles because I didn't just want one per post, oh no, I wanted 3 on one post.
Thinking I might improve the image of the bleach bottle, I spray painted them grey. I thought they might look good in a variety of colors, but decided to wait until I could see the finished product. The goal of which would have been to keep someone from driving by and saying "Are those bleach jugs she's got tied to those posts?"
I strapped the bottles to the posts and "Viola!", the end result was just what I had wanted to achieve. Why, they didn't look like bleach bottles tied on a post at all! I'm sure you will agree:
I awoke at midnight to the sound of 50 mph plus straight line winds moving through the area. I truly expected to get up this morning and find my bottles somewhere over in the neighbors backyard, but to my amazement, they had survived the storm. One was a little cattiwampus, but I was able to adjust it back to its original position. I may need to add a few more zip ties. I found some really wide zip ties on line, but the purpose of the project was to be cost effective, the wide zip ties did not fall into that category. I will continue to ponder on what might be a better attachment system.
Now, for the next project.........
Friday, April 25, 2014
Road Trip Revelations
A seven and a half hour, 400 mile road trip gives a person a lot of time to think. Needless to say, I did a lot of thinking.
One of the main characters in my book rode with me for a while. He was mostly silent, taking in the scenery as we cruised north through Missouri, headed for the border of Iowa. The wind blew through his silky black hair but the further north we traveled, the temperature began to drop. He finally rolled up the window and got in the back seat, occasionally making eye contact with me in the rear view mirror, but continued to offer no conversation..
It wasn't long after, that the Voice, who usually resides somewhere inside my head, took over the co-pilot's position. It was wearing sunglasses, even though the skies were overcast, and holding the map, upside down. The Voice really doesn't need a map, it always knows where it is and where it's going. Every once and a while, it would bark out some random numbers, like the co-pilots do on those crazy Italian road races. Sometimes the Voice thinks it's very funny.
I continued on in silence, up the hills, down the hills, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and keeping a watchful eye on the sky. There were some pretty lively storms in the forecast for this region and we were already driving in some light rain.
The Voice finally spoke, "Quit thinking about it."
I sighed and said, "I'm trying."
"Well, you're obviously not trying very hard.", it snapped back.
The Voice was right, it usually is. A recent chain of events had unraveled into a big misunderstanding and had tumbled downhill at a rapid rate. The mess at the bottom of the hill was a total wreck. No way to fix it and no good explanation as to why it happened in the first place. I couldn't quit running the scenario over and over in my head, but I needed to just let it go.
"What did you think you were going to accomplish in the first place?", the Voice asked.
"I don't know", I answered. "I thought I could make things better, bigger, you know, more important. Class it up a bit."
"How'd that work out for you?", quipped the Voice.
"Not so good.", I sighed.
"Did you learn anything?" The Voice has never been known for having any tact. It let its filters for such niceties fall away many years ago. It had no choice, I've spent most of my life ignoring it.
I sighed again, "Yes."
"And what might that be?", the Voice asked while it continued to study the upside down map.
"That I can't fix everything I think needs fixing. I should just mind my own business and keep to myself."
Suddenly a different voice, as rich and smooth as dark melted chocolate, spoke from the back seat. The Voice and I nearly jumped out of the car windows. This man is intensely spiritual and as he spoke, his words fell like velvet on our ears. "You must realize, it is important to help other people. It is good to see and search for the good in others because they all have the goodness or Godness within them. But you must do so with a pure heart. You cannot go into a situation wanting a final outcome for yourself. It doesn't work that way. If your intentions carry the smallest element of self gratification, they will most likely fail."
The Voice pulled its sunglasses down on its nose, gave me a look that said "I couldn't have said it better myself", closed the map and turned to gaze at the passing scenery.
They were both right and I drove on with a much clearer insight of myself.
By the time I got back home I was too tired to tackle anything else on the list, but did scratch a nice black line through 'road trip'. Did I get everything on the list done? No, not yet, but I will continue to add to it, prioritize it and tackle it.
Tomorrow morning the list will have an item scratched off worthy of celebration. 'Deliver papers.....for the last time'.
One of the main characters in my book rode with me for a while. He was mostly silent, taking in the scenery as we cruised north through Missouri, headed for the border of Iowa. The wind blew through his silky black hair but the further north we traveled, the temperature began to drop. He finally rolled up the window and got in the back seat, occasionally making eye contact with me in the rear view mirror, but continued to offer no conversation..
It wasn't long after, that the Voice, who usually resides somewhere inside my head, took over the co-pilot's position. It was wearing sunglasses, even though the skies were overcast, and holding the map, upside down. The Voice really doesn't need a map, it always knows where it is and where it's going. Every once and a while, it would bark out some random numbers, like the co-pilots do on those crazy Italian road races. Sometimes the Voice thinks it's very funny.
I continued on in silence, up the hills, down the hills, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and keeping a watchful eye on the sky. There were some pretty lively storms in the forecast for this region and we were already driving in some light rain.
The Voice finally spoke, "Quit thinking about it."
I sighed and said, "I'm trying."
"Well, you're obviously not trying very hard.", it snapped back.
The Voice was right, it usually is. A recent chain of events had unraveled into a big misunderstanding and had tumbled downhill at a rapid rate. The mess at the bottom of the hill was a total wreck. No way to fix it and no good explanation as to why it happened in the first place. I couldn't quit running the scenario over and over in my head, but I needed to just let it go.
"What did you think you were going to accomplish in the first place?", the Voice asked.
"I don't know", I answered. "I thought I could make things better, bigger, you know, more important. Class it up a bit."
"How'd that work out for you?", quipped the Voice.
"Not so good.", I sighed.
"Did you learn anything?" The Voice has never been known for having any tact. It let its filters for such niceties fall away many years ago. It had no choice, I've spent most of my life ignoring it.
I sighed again, "Yes."
"And what might that be?", the Voice asked while it continued to study the upside down map.
"That I can't fix everything I think needs fixing. I should just mind my own business and keep to myself."
Suddenly a different voice, as rich and smooth as dark melted chocolate, spoke from the back seat. The Voice and I nearly jumped out of the car windows. This man is intensely spiritual and as he spoke, his words fell like velvet on our ears. "You must realize, it is important to help other people. It is good to see and search for the good in others because they all have the goodness or Godness within them. But you must do so with a pure heart. You cannot go into a situation wanting a final outcome for yourself. It doesn't work that way. If your intentions carry the smallest element of self gratification, they will most likely fail."
The Voice pulled its sunglasses down on its nose, gave me a look that said "I couldn't have said it better myself", closed the map and turned to gaze at the passing scenery.
They were both right and I drove on with a much clearer insight of myself.
By the time I got back home I was too tired to tackle anything else on the list, but did scratch a nice black line through 'road trip'. Did I get everything on the list done? No, not yet, but I will continue to add to it, prioritize it and tackle it.
Tomorrow morning the list will have an item scratched off worthy of celebration. 'Deliver papers.....for the last time'.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
The List Goes On
The beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
Sonny & Cher, 1967
In this case, I just change the word 'beat' to list. The list goes on. I will have this tune stuck in my head for the rest of the day.
The list got thrown a major curve ball today. I knew I was going to probably do this, but forgot to add it to the list, but it's on there now. I have a six hour road trip ahead of me today. I'm looking at the list wondering if I should have taken this on, but it will be good to get out. A road trip may be just what I need. It will help clear my brain and maybe some new ideas will pop in there while the wind blows the cobwebs of old thoughts and issues out the window.
I love to drive. I can drive for hours and never turn on the radio. I may have to today though, just to get the above mentioned song out of my head. Getting behind the wheel of a vehicle allows me to be anything I want. Think about that. It's like what Ms. Sassafrass does on a daily basis, she pretends. Some days she is a princess, some days she is a lion tamer, and the list goes on.
So, what shall I be today? I'm not sure. Maybe I will be a famous author, with a book on the best seller list. I'll be driving to my first book signing, anxious to meet some of my readers. Maybe I will be the next winner of the Powerball Lottery and I can 'spend' three hours one way and three hours back. Maybe I'll be the next governor of my state and I will get rid of unnecessary offices that spend more than they take in. I will say "Off with their heads" to silly bureaucratic groups and tell some of the union leaders to take a hike. If I'm going to 'be' that, I'll be driving an armored car.
Pretending is fun and we should probably take the time to do it more often. A dream held in focus has a lot more probability of coming true than one that is just a random thought.
Maybe I'll be me and relax in the knowledge that all is well.
I might make it back in time to get another item off the list, but if not, at least 'road trip' will have a nice black line drawn through it.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Getting There
There are five black lines drawn through items on the to-do list. It seems like an accomplishment, but the list has ground to a screeching halt.
The item in the number one spot cannot be accomplished in a days time. Part of it can, but not all of it. Perhaps I will re-write the list and break down this item into sub categories, much like an outline, so I can feel like I'm getting somewhere.
I'm in a state of perplexiness. Totally confused. The unpleasantness has raised its ugly head again. I wish it would leave me alone. Everything is messed up, I'm told, but when I ask what is messed up, the only answer I get is "everything". This makes no sense to me and I can't clean up a mess if I don't know where the mess is. It's like going on a snipe hunt, with or without a flash light, and forgetting the bag.
It's also has been suggested that I've done something that I really don't think is possible to do. Maybe it is possible for the technologically advanced individual, but I do not come within a football field's length of falling into that category. The suggestion was that I had taken previously downloaded apps off of a cellphone......remotely.
Is that even possible?
Seriously?!? It was suggested that maybe I got online, in my home, hacked into someone's cellphone and removed three FREE apps. The key word here folks is "FREE", simply pull up your app market place and download them again............idiot. I don't know how to make my own phone ring and vibrate at the same time so I'm pretty sure hacking is way out of my league. Besides, I had lots more important things to do than trying to be a cyber-stalker.
I don't understand how Pintrest works. It would be a huge advantage for me if I did and "learn Pintrest" is even on the list, albiet, it's next to the last item. Any thing remotely (no pun intended) techy makes my brain shut down. That's when I begin to spin in circles, trying not to make eye contact, hoping it will just go away. There are actually three techy things on the bottom of my list and that's why they were placed in that position, just looking at them makes me feel ill.
Oh well, hopefully it will all come out in the wash. For now, the list is staring at me. It shines like a beacon from the top of my desk demanding attention. Yes sir, Mr. List, I'm on my way.
The item in the number one spot cannot be accomplished in a days time. Part of it can, but not all of it. Perhaps I will re-write the list and break down this item into sub categories, much like an outline, so I can feel like I'm getting somewhere.
I'm in a state of perplexiness. Totally confused. The unpleasantness has raised its ugly head again. I wish it would leave me alone. Everything is messed up, I'm told, but when I ask what is messed up, the only answer I get is "everything". This makes no sense to me and I can't clean up a mess if I don't know where the mess is. It's like going on a snipe hunt, with or without a flash light, and forgetting the bag.
It's also has been suggested that I've done something that I really don't think is possible to do. Maybe it is possible for the technologically advanced individual, but I do not come within a football field's length of falling into that category. The suggestion was that I had taken previously downloaded apps off of a cellphone......remotely.
Is that even possible?
Seriously?!? It was suggested that maybe I got online, in my home, hacked into someone's cellphone and removed three FREE apps. The key word here folks is "FREE", simply pull up your app market place and download them again............idiot. I don't know how to make my own phone ring and vibrate at the same time so I'm pretty sure hacking is way out of my league. Besides, I had lots more important things to do than trying to be a cyber-stalker.
I don't understand how Pintrest works. It would be a huge advantage for me if I did and "learn Pintrest" is even on the list, albiet, it's next to the last item. Any thing remotely (no pun intended) techy makes my brain shut down. That's when I begin to spin in circles, trying not to make eye contact, hoping it will just go away. There are actually three techy things on the bottom of my list and that's why they were placed in that position, just looking at them makes me feel ill.
Oh well, hopefully it will all come out in the wash. For now, the list is staring at me. It shines like a beacon from the top of my desk demanding attention. Yes sir, Mr. List, I'm on my way.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Dwindling The List
Yesterday was a good day. Unfortunately, most of it was spent at my desk, but that was pay back for procrastination. The first major thing on my list has a nice black line drawn through it, that alone makes for some mighty fine satisfaction.
A big dent was made in the second most important item on the list, but I ran out of day before I could accomplish it. It now ranks in first place. Hopefully there will be enough to go around, if not, they will just have to wait until next week. Hate that, but that's the way it goes.
The morning started out on a good note. I read a fellow blogger's blog and was laughing out loud. Doing that before 5 a.m. is good for the soul. It's amazing how laughter can lift the spirit. I must put that on the list too: Laugh many times today.
Ms. Sassafrass will be here shortly, so I must be short in today's writing. I need to be ready to tackle the next list item before she gets here. Concentration seems to wane with Dora and Boots in the background and I really don't like to have her spend all our time in front of the TV. She's a good helper, maybe she can put the stamps and return address labels on the envelopes and I can tell her a tale of how, many moons ago, we had to lick the stamps first.
The weather is going to be gorgeous today, it will be hard to stay inside, but stay inside I must, at least until there are two more black lines on my list. I do have to water a few plants, so that will be a grand excuse to excuse myself for a few minutes. Plus, I can't wait to tell you about my bleach bottle project, but that story will have to wait, it's at the end of the list.
A big dent was made in the second most important item on the list, but I ran out of day before I could accomplish it. It now ranks in first place. Hopefully there will be enough to go around, if not, they will just have to wait until next week. Hate that, but that's the way it goes.
The morning started out on a good note. I read a fellow blogger's blog and was laughing out loud. Doing that before 5 a.m. is good for the soul. It's amazing how laughter can lift the spirit. I must put that on the list too: Laugh many times today.
Ms. Sassafrass will be here shortly, so I must be short in today's writing. I need to be ready to tackle the next list item before she gets here. Concentration seems to wane with Dora and Boots in the background and I really don't like to have her spend all our time in front of the TV. She's a good helper, maybe she can put the stamps and return address labels on the envelopes and I can tell her a tale of how, many moons ago, we had to lick the stamps first.
The weather is going to be gorgeous today, it will be hard to stay inside, but stay inside I must, at least until there are two more black lines on my list. I do have to water a few plants, so that will be a grand excuse to excuse myself for a few minutes. Plus, I can't wait to tell you about my bleach bottle project, but that story will have to wait, it's at the end of the list.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Time to Turn
I've been spinning in circles for so long I'm surprised I haven't churned myself into a mound of butter.
There's a lot of stuff on my plate. Stuff that needs to be taken care of. I've been pushing most of it to the other side of the plate, much like a child who doesn't like to eat peas. If you push long enough, maybe they will fall off the side and no one will notice.
Unfortunately "out of sight, out of mind" hasn't been the best policy to work with. It's still there, growing in an ever larger pile of peas, carrots and an occasional dreaded lima bean.
They are things that need my attention. Bills that need to be paid, a website that needs to be updated, orders that are piling up, which is a good thing, and a house that desperately needs a thorough cleaning.
All the new year's resolutions are just hanging in the air, floating around like feathers in the breeze. I planned many changes and it is closing in on the beginning of the fifth month of the year, and so far, nothing much has changed.
I'd like to pass the blame onto someone else, but I noticed that someone else packed their bags and left the building. There is no one to blame but myself.
I woke earlier than usual this morning, 4:00 instead of 4:30. As I stood outside on the deck, in the wee hours before dawn, I knew I had to make some changes. I knew things were not going to just take care of themselves without my input.
Last week brought about some unpleasantness, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was a kick-start for me to see beyond the horizon. Maybe it was a good thing to have the rug yanked out from beneath my feet to show me I've got more important things to attend to. I've always tried to see the best in people, even to a fault.
This week shall be a turning point. I will make my list and then prioritize it. I shall set a goal to accomplish the list by the end of the week. There will be no more procrastination, no more wandering in circles, no more being busy but not productive.
For me, this will be a daunting task, sometimes I just like to spin, but it has to be done and it has to be done now. I will schedule my day and I will write, and I will work, and I will tell myself that it does no good to worry about things. I will remind myself too, that in one hundred years, none of these worries will matter.
It's not about what other people do, it's about what I do, with my life and the time that has been allotted to me. It's time to turn in a new direction, may I use that time well.
May you also use your time to live your life to the absolute fullest it can be. Go ahead, be brave, try not to worry, because it really could be much worse. Do the important things first and put 'cleaning the house' last on the list.
There's a lot of stuff on my plate. Stuff that needs to be taken care of. I've been pushing most of it to the other side of the plate, much like a child who doesn't like to eat peas. If you push long enough, maybe they will fall off the side and no one will notice.
Unfortunately "out of sight, out of mind" hasn't been the best policy to work with. It's still there, growing in an ever larger pile of peas, carrots and an occasional dreaded lima bean.
They are things that need my attention. Bills that need to be paid, a website that needs to be updated, orders that are piling up, which is a good thing, and a house that desperately needs a thorough cleaning.
All the new year's resolutions are just hanging in the air, floating around like feathers in the breeze. I planned many changes and it is closing in on the beginning of the fifth month of the year, and so far, nothing much has changed.
I'd like to pass the blame onto someone else, but I noticed that someone else packed their bags and left the building. There is no one to blame but myself.
I woke earlier than usual this morning, 4:00 instead of 4:30. As I stood outside on the deck, in the wee hours before dawn, I knew I had to make some changes. I knew things were not going to just take care of themselves without my input.
Last week brought about some unpleasantness, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was a kick-start for me to see beyond the horizon. Maybe it was a good thing to have the rug yanked out from beneath my feet to show me I've got more important things to attend to. I've always tried to see the best in people, even to a fault.
This week shall be a turning point. I will make my list and then prioritize it. I shall set a goal to accomplish the list by the end of the week. There will be no more procrastination, no more wandering in circles, no more being busy but not productive.
For me, this will be a daunting task, sometimes I just like to spin, but it has to be done and it has to be done now. I will schedule my day and I will write, and I will work, and I will tell myself that it does no good to worry about things. I will remind myself too, that in one hundred years, none of these worries will matter.
It's not about what other people do, it's about what I do, with my life and the time that has been allotted to me. It's time to turn in a new direction, may I use that time well.
May you also use your time to live your life to the absolute fullest it can be. Go ahead, be brave, try not to worry, because it really could be much worse. Do the important things first and put 'cleaning the house' last on the list.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Fantasy Money
Oh! What fun this is going to be! I'm going to spend 100 million dollars!!!
Let's see, what to spend on first? Well, first I'm going to pay off all my debt. That seems like a really smart thing to do. What a great feeling of security that will bring.
Next, I will help out our children. I'll pay off all their debts, set some aside for their children's future and probably give them a big whopping wad of cash to spend on what ever they want.
Then I'm going to help out our extended family, shoot, there should be enough to clear their debts too. After all, I can spend $270 thousand a day for a whole year, give or take a couple of bucks, before I run out of money.
After all the family members are taken care of, I'll help out my friends. Don't you think I'll have more friends than I can shake a stick at when they find out I'm divi-ing up $100 million? Oh, I bet they'll be coming out of the woodwork! Heck fire, I never thought about that before, I can buy myself some friends! Not a bad idea.
Now what? I think I'll buy my husband a warehouse full of old muscle cars. I'd never have to wonder where he was and he could wax on, wax off to his heart's content. Then I think I will travel the world. My husband might go with me or I might just send him a few "wish you were here" postcards so he would know my approximate location. He'd probably be fine with that because he'd still be in wax mode.
When I get back home, I'll just do what ever I feel like doing. I mean, I'll be able to, right? I'll never have any money worries again!
Did I mention I really don't have $100 million to spend? But that's no problem, I'm just going to spend it anyway. That's what the great state of Illinois is going to do, why can't I?
Yessirree, the powers that be (that be in Chicago), think it is a wonderful idea to come up with $100 million for a presidential library honoring our current president.
I don't have any qualms against another presidential library. Gee wiz, we've already got one located in the state's capital city honoring good ole' Honest Abe. It's a great place to see and I notice they are always seeking donations for its upkeep. So what's wrong with having another?
If maybe the state wasn't so broke, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state's pension fund wasn't in the red by billions of dollars, with no real fix in sight, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state didn't have a backlog of unpaid bills, a few more, I imagine, than what is sitting on my desk, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state's credit rating wasn't one of the worst in the nation, it might be a good idea.
Chicago has forgotten they are part of a larger piece of dirt. They seem to think they are an island just north of I-80 that resides somewhere in LaLa Land where the elusive Money Tree grows. They really don't care what the south of I-80 populous thinks, because to them, we don't exist.
Spending $100 million is a grand idea, if you've got a $100 million to spend. When "We the People" spend money we don't have, we get into a whole heap o' trouble.
The entire thing makes me want to throw up a little in the back of my throat. That's a pretty gross analogy, but it paints a darn near perfect picture of the state's finances.
Let's see, what to spend on first? Well, first I'm going to pay off all my debt. That seems like a really smart thing to do. What a great feeling of security that will bring.
Next, I will help out our children. I'll pay off all their debts, set some aside for their children's future and probably give them a big whopping wad of cash to spend on what ever they want.
Then I'm going to help out our extended family, shoot, there should be enough to clear their debts too. After all, I can spend $270 thousand a day for a whole year, give or take a couple of bucks, before I run out of money.
After all the family members are taken care of, I'll help out my friends. Don't you think I'll have more friends than I can shake a stick at when they find out I'm divi-ing up $100 million? Oh, I bet they'll be coming out of the woodwork! Heck fire, I never thought about that before, I can buy myself some friends! Not a bad idea.
Now what? I think I'll buy my husband a warehouse full of old muscle cars. I'd never have to wonder where he was and he could wax on, wax off to his heart's content. Then I think I will travel the world. My husband might go with me or I might just send him a few "wish you were here" postcards so he would know my approximate location. He'd probably be fine with that because he'd still be in wax mode.
When I get back home, I'll just do what ever I feel like doing. I mean, I'll be able to, right? I'll never have any money worries again!
Did I mention I really don't have $100 million to spend? But that's no problem, I'm just going to spend it anyway. That's what the great state of Illinois is going to do, why can't I?
Yessirree, the powers that be (that be in Chicago), think it is a wonderful idea to come up with $100 million for a presidential library honoring our current president.
I don't have any qualms against another presidential library. Gee wiz, we've already got one located in the state's capital city honoring good ole' Honest Abe. It's a great place to see and I notice they are always seeking donations for its upkeep. So what's wrong with having another?
If maybe the state wasn't so broke, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state's pension fund wasn't in the red by billions of dollars, with no real fix in sight, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state didn't have a backlog of unpaid bills, a few more, I imagine, than what is sitting on my desk, it might be a good idea. If maybe the state's credit rating wasn't one of the worst in the nation, it might be a good idea.
Chicago has forgotten they are part of a larger piece of dirt. They seem to think they are an island just north of I-80 that resides somewhere in LaLa Land where the elusive Money Tree grows. They really don't care what the south of I-80 populous thinks, because to them, we don't exist.
Spending $100 million is a grand idea, if you've got a $100 million to spend. When "We the People" spend money we don't have, we get into a whole heap o' trouble.
The entire thing makes me want to throw up a little in the back of my throat. That's a pretty gross analogy, but it paints a darn near perfect picture of the state's finances.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Here's Another
Via a social online network, sister Lela asked if I had written yesterday's poem.
Why yes, I told her. It was my blog, who else would have written it.
She then called me a smart something or other and said I could have copied it.
I informed her that if I had done that, without reference to the author, someone would sue my smart something or other and I'd be in a whole heap of trouble.
The kids jumped in on the conversation and said they were going to have to separate us or put us in one of those big tee shirts, until we could get along.
Fun times online.
I used to write poetry when I was in high school. I used to write poetry for my husband, that lucky duck, they must have won his heart. Then for some reason, probably life getting in the way, I quit. I didn't write poems or much of anything else.
Now I'm writing again and it has been one of the best decisions I have made in a long time. Maybe it's the Blood Moon, but I seem to be in poem mode, so here's one more.
By Ruthie Reeves and if you like, you can find me on Facebook.
Why yes, I told her. It was my blog, who else would have written it.
She then called me a smart something or other and said I could have copied it.
I informed her that if I had done that, without reference to the author, someone would sue my smart something or other and I'd be in a whole heap of trouble.
The kids jumped in on the conversation and said they were going to have to separate us or put us in one of those big tee shirts, until we could get along.
Fun times online.
I used to write poetry when I was in high school. I used to write poetry for my husband, that lucky duck, they must have won his heart. Then for some reason, probably life getting in the way, I quit. I didn't write poems or much of anything else.
Now I'm writing again and it has been one of the best decisions I have made in a long time. Maybe it's the Blood Moon, but I seem to be in poem mode, so here's one more.
Cry of the Working Human
Eenie meenie minie moe,
who gets paid today.
The bills keep coming to our door,
but there's more of them than pay.
We work and struggle through the week
to keep the roof over our head.
But by the time we get home,
we just want to go to bed.
We hear the leaders of the day
spin the same old tired yarn.
That we need less and they need more,
were they all born in a barn?
With both doors of the barn wide open
they spin our dollars to gold.
Then give it to some idea that fails,
that story's getting old.
We try to spend our dollars wise,
but get caught up in the trend.
That a new gadget, phone or such,
will be our new best friend.
We spend what free time that we have
running kids up and down the road.
One wonders if we'd be better off
to just stay at our abode.
Maybe we should and take the time
to enjoy the things we miss.
If we sat back and said "ENOUGH!"
perhaps we'd find true bliss.
But the simple basics costs are high,
so there's more work to be done.
If we weren't trying so hard to stay afloat,
We just might have some fun.
By Ruthie Reeves and if you like, you can find me on Facebook.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Deeper Than Love
Love and caring can be as fickle
as a leaf upon the wind.
Or stronger than a mighty oak,
that never seems to bend.
It weaves our lives together,
like a sturdy piece of twine.
It can even have so strong a hold,
we feel we're in a bind.
It carries no age requirements,
it touches young and old.
It has been the theme of many a song
or story that's been told.
Love and caring can sometimes waiver
but it has something special deep inside.
That stands unseen in shadows,
but rides the flow, the ebb, the tide.
It's always at the ready
if love and caring are stretched too thin.
It can keep the roof from crashing down,
the walls from caving in.
But if that special thing is broken,
crushed beyond repair.
There is no sadder place on earth,
there's nothing to compare.
You see, a broken loving caring heart will heal
and be stronger in the end.
But when the Trust is broken,
It may be impossible to mend.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
From Birthdays to Strawberries
When we are young, birthdays are always special. As we get older, they can either be a milestone or simply just another day. I've always enjoyed reading the birthday column, of celebrities and persons of interest, in the daily paper. I share a birthday with Pink and my oldest daughter shares one with Bill Cosby. I always get amused at the young rapper's names like "Da Dog". That will really sound cool when you're 90. I've considered giving up reading the column for that reason alone, most of the people I recognize are fifty and up and I usually have no idea who the younger ones are. Of course the only alternative to not having another birthday is, well, I think you know the answer to that, but how the heck did Roy Clark get to be 81?
Ms. Sassafrass and I took Tigger the cat to the vet, again, yesterday. It was time to have him neutered. The loading of the cat in the box was not nearly as exciting as the first time, but Sassafrass assured me "Tigger weally doesn't like to go to the vet." and that was true. We placed Tigger, box and all, in a cage and she noticed a small dog in the neighboring cage. She informed all of us that the dog looked like her Auntie's dog, Josie, and she was right.
The staff told me that I would be able to pick Tigger up later in the day, or I could have the option of leaving him overnight. I chose the first option and retrieved him around 5:30. He was stoned out of his gourd, so was the little dog. Good times at the vet clinic. Tigger's pupils were as big as his eyeballs and he rocked back and forth like a parrot on a perch. I covered his box with a blanket, to try to keep him in darkness, but I could still hear him knocking his head off the sides of the box. If there is a next time, I will choose to leave him overnight. He's much better this morning, although he is walking a bit funny and he's giving me a wide berth. That's OK, little yellow buddy, I don't blame ya.
It snowed here yesterday afternoon. Huge big fluffy flakes of snow. Since it is the middle of April, I decided it really wasn't snow, but mushroom seeds falling to the earth. It is the season for those tasty morels to start popping out of the ground. I wish I had some place I could go to hunt them, a trek through the woods would be fun. With the bobcat population on the rise, not to mention the cougars spotted on some local game cams, and a possible recent wolf sighting, I believe I will just heap wonderful praises on whoever braves the wilderness for the elusive morel...........maybe they will share.
During the wee morning hours there was a lunar eclipse. I missed it. It was to be the rare "Blood Moon" and I've seen several posts this morning on Facebook from people who witnessed it. Years ago I would have drug my children out of bed to see it. They have fond memories of the time I drug them out to watch the meteorite shower, of which we saw none. If it wasn't for the fact that my alarm rings at 4:30 a.m. I would have gotten up at 2, but I know had I done that, it would have been a long day. Going back to sleep after waking in the middle of the night is a rare occurrence in itself. Hopefully, someone got a good picture that I can admire later on.
I'm growing impatient with the growing of the strawberries in the hanging-bottle-tower-strawberry fabrication. They haven't done a thing yet and look very lifeless. I searched online for the answer to "how long does it take a strawberry plant to sprout" and the answer was, it depended on what king of strawberry it was. Well I don't know! It said strawberry on the package, nothing more, nothing less. It's still hanging in the kitchen and getting plenty of sun and water, so time will tell. The plan for this swinging garden is to hang it outside, on the deck, to witness the birth of mouth watering strawberries, in the hopefully near future. Since it was 22 degrees this morning, it's a good thing it is still inside, otherwise I would have had frozen lifeless strawberry plants in the hanging-bottle-tower strawberry-fabrication.
Time to head to the studio. I'm working on a new idea for turning real flowers into lasting keepsakes. So far, it's coming along quite nicely, which is a much better way to put "I haven't opened up the window and shucked the entire project out in the yard."
Ms. Sassafrass and I took Tigger the cat to the vet, again, yesterday. It was time to have him neutered. The loading of the cat in the box was not nearly as exciting as the first time, but Sassafrass assured me "Tigger weally doesn't like to go to the vet." and that was true. We placed Tigger, box and all, in a cage and she noticed a small dog in the neighboring cage. She informed all of us that the dog looked like her Auntie's dog, Josie, and she was right.
The staff told me that I would be able to pick Tigger up later in the day, or I could have the option of leaving him overnight. I chose the first option and retrieved him around 5:30. He was stoned out of his gourd, so was the little dog. Good times at the vet clinic. Tigger's pupils were as big as his eyeballs and he rocked back and forth like a parrot on a perch. I covered his box with a blanket, to try to keep him in darkness, but I could still hear him knocking his head off the sides of the box. If there is a next time, I will choose to leave him overnight. He's much better this morning, although he is walking a bit funny and he's giving me a wide berth. That's OK, little yellow buddy, I don't blame ya.
It snowed here yesterday afternoon. Huge big fluffy flakes of snow. Since it is the middle of April, I decided it really wasn't snow, but mushroom seeds falling to the earth. It is the season for those tasty morels to start popping out of the ground. I wish I had some place I could go to hunt them, a trek through the woods would be fun. With the bobcat population on the rise, not to mention the cougars spotted on some local game cams, and a possible recent wolf sighting, I believe I will just heap wonderful praises on whoever braves the wilderness for the elusive morel...........maybe they will share.
During the wee morning hours there was a lunar eclipse. I missed it. It was to be the rare "Blood Moon" and I've seen several posts this morning on Facebook from people who witnessed it. Years ago I would have drug my children out of bed to see it. They have fond memories of the time I drug them out to watch the meteorite shower, of which we saw none. If it wasn't for the fact that my alarm rings at 4:30 a.m. I would have gotten up at 2, but I know had I done that, it would have been a long day. Going back to sleep after waking in the middle of the night is a rare occurrence in itself. Hopefully, someone got a good picture that I can admire later on.
I'm growing impatient with the growing of the strawberries in the hanging-bottle-tower-strawberry fabrication. They haven't done a thing yet and look very lifeless. I searched online for the answer to "how long does it take a strawberry plant to sprout" and the answer was, it depended on what king of strawberry it was. Well I don't know! It said strawberry on the package, nothing more, nothing less. It's still hanging in the kitchen and getting plenty of sun and water, so time will tell. The plan for this swinging garden is to hang it outside, on the deck, to witness the birth of mouth watering strawberries, in the hopefully near future. Since it was 22 degrees this morning, it's a good thing it is still inside, otherwise I would have had frozen lifeless strawberry plants in the hanging-bottle-tower strawberry-fabrication.
Time to head to the studio. I'm working on a new idea for turning real flowers into lasting keepsakes. So far, it's coming along quite nicely, which is a much better way to put "I haven't opened up the window and shucked the entire project out in the yard."
Monday, April 14, 2014
Sky Lights
This happened many years ago, back in the mid 70's. I was a teenager living in a world of huge bell-bottomed jeans and long hair parted down the middle. There are lots of things I don't recall about my youth and some that I would just as soon not recall, but this story isn't one of them. When I think about it, it's as if it just happened yesterday. I've never added to it, or taken away from what I experienced.
I do not remember exactly the time of year, but the weather was warm enough for cruising with the windows down.
When you grow up in a small rural community, cruising the gravel roads is a great way to pass the time. It was some where between 9 o'clock and 10 one evening when a friend and I were doing just that, cruising the country roads. We were only about a quarter mile from town, heading west when I noticed we kept going slower. I asked my friend what was going on and he asked me if I could see "that light". I leaned over to look out his window and had to ask, "What light?", because there were stars in the sky and I had no idea what he was referring to.
He slowed to a stop and pointed to what had caught his eye. I could see it then, just a small white light, and we used the top wire of a barbed wire fence as a point of origin to see if it was really moving. It was, but it looked to be several miles away and as far as I was concerned, it could have easily been a small plane.
Maybe growing up in the sticks causes young people to create their own excitement. It was a known fact, my friend could be a tad bit windy on occasion, but he decided we needed to tell the town law about our finding.
Officer Roy was one of the good guys. He could be gruff when it was necessary, but he always had time to visit. He would listen to our tales of mischief and raise one eyebrow if he thought we had maybe crossed the fine line we so enjoyed walking. He probably had many more stories to tell, of the things the town youth confided in him, than he actually had fighting crime.
We were only a short distance from the main highway that led into town and we roared up to the stop sign, hung a right and headed towards the city limits. As we were picking up speed, my friend asked me if I could still see the light. I turned around to look through the back glass of his car.
"Yes! It's right behind us!", and it was.
My friend thought I was joking, but I was as serious as he had been when he first spotted it. It was following us and it was ten times the size it had been just a few seconds before.
There was a factory with a large parking lot just up the road and we pulled in there and stopped, so he could see for himself that I wasn't exaggerating. When we did this, the light stopped at exactly the same time. We had turned to the right and stopped and the light swung to the left, stopped and hovered over a corn field directly parallel to us. We sat there looking at it and it sat there, presumably looking at us.
"What the ....... is that?", my friend asked. All I could say was I didn't know.
We raced out of the parking lot and again turned right, crossed the railroad tracks that marked the edge of town and headed for Officer Roy. The light followed, still running parallel with us.
The local eatery was just ahead and although it was closed for the evening, there were several of our friends sitting on their cars in the parking lot. We literally slid sideways into the parking lot. My friend jumped out of the car, pointed to the west and screamed, "Do you see that!", and just like flipping a switch, the light disappeared. We never made it to Officer Roy.
I have no idea what we saw that night, but "it" seemed to know what we were going to do, before we did.
Just last week, not to many miles from this area, there was another UFO sighting. It was witnessed by several people and as I read the article I was surprised that not one of the witnesses wanted their names used. One person stated they were so frightened, they went back into the house and hid. What they all had seen was a triangular shaped object of lights with a smaller spinning circle of lights beneath it.
While driving in the wee morning hours, delivering papers, I try to scan the sky for anything unusual. Since I'm also scanning the road for potholes big enough to swallow my car, this has proved to be uneventful in my search for the elusive UFO. If I had been fortunate enough to see what those people saw last week, I'd be wearing a blazing lime green tee shirt emblazoned with "ASK ME ABOUT MY UFO SIGHTING" and carrying a sign proclaiming the same thing.
I may never know what "it" was, those many years ago, but I'm still looking to find out.
I do not remember exactly the time of year, but the weather was warm enough for cruising with the windows down.
When you grow up in a small rural community, cruising the gravel roads is a great way to pass the time. It was some where between 9 o'clock and 10 one evening when a friend and I were doing just that, cruising the country roads. We were only about a quarter mile from town, heading west when I noticed we kept going slower. I asked my friend what was going on and he asked me if I could see "that light". I leaned over to look out his window and had to ask, "What light?", because there were stars in the sky and I had no idea what he was referring to.
He slowed to a stop and pointed to what had caught his eye. I could see it then, just a small white light, and we used the top wire of a barbed wire fence as a point of origin to see if it was really moving. It was, but it looked to be several miles away and as far as I was concerned, it could have easily been a small plane.
Maybe growing up in the sticks causes young people to create their own excitement. It was a known fact, my friend could be a tad bit windy on occasion, but he decided we needed to tell the town law about our finding.
Officer Roy was one of the good guys. He could be gruff when it was necessary, but he always had time to visit. He would listen to our tales of mischief and raise one eyebrow if he thought we had maybe crossed the fine line we so enjoyed walking. He probably had many more stories to tell, of the things the town youth confided in him, than he actually had fighting crime.
We were only a short distance from the main highway that led into town and we roared up to the stop sign, hung a right and headed towards the city limits. As we were picking up speed, my friend asked me if I could still see the light. I turned around to look through the back glass of his car.
"Yes! It's right behind us!", and it was.
My friend thought I was joking, but I was as serious as he had been when he first spotted it. It was following us and it was ten times the size it had been just a few seconds before.
There was a factory with a large parking lot just up the road and we pulled in there and stopped, so he could see for himself that I wasn't exaggerating. When we did this, the light stopped at exactly the same time. We had turned to the right and stopped and the light swung to the left, stopped and hovered over a corn field directly parallel to us. We sat there looking at it and it sat there, presumably looking at us.
"What the ....... is that?", my friend asked. All I could say was I didn't know.
We raced out of the parking lot and again turned right, crossed the railroad tracks that marked the edge of town and headed for Officer Roy. The light followed, still running parallel with us.
The local eatery was just ahead and although it was closed for the evening, there were several of our friends sitting on their cars in the parking lot. We literally slid sideways into the parking lot. My friend jumped out of the car, pointed to the west and screamed, "Do you see that!", and just like flipping a switch, the light disappeared. We never made it to Officer Roy.
I have no idea what we saw that night, but "it" seemed to know what we were going to do, before we did.
Just last week, not to many miles from this area, there was another UFO sighting. It was witnessed by several people and as I read the article I was surprised that not one of the witnesses wanted their names used. One person stated they were so frightened, they went back into the house and hid. What they all had seen was a triangular shaped object of lights with a smaller spinning circle of lights beneath it.
While driving in the wee morning hours, delivering papers, I try to scan the sky for anything unusual. Since I'm also scanning the road for potholes big enough to swallow my car, this has proved to be uneventful in my search for the elusive UFO. If I had been fortunate enough to see what those people saw last week, I'd be wearing a blazing lime green tee shirt emblazoned with "ASK ME ABOUT MY UFO SIGHTING" and carrying a sign proclaiming the same thing.
I may never know what "it" was, those many years ago, but I'm still looking to find out.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Some People Never Learn
The recipe itself was simple. That in itself should have been a red flag telling me to go back outside and find something else to do.
The pineapple was calling my name. It had been sitting on the counter for.......well, let's just say for quite a while. I had great intentions for it. I also figured that it was like most fruit that doesn't grow in the great Midwest, it wasn't ripe when it was picked. Kind of like the butcher when he tells you the meat is really at its peak when it is brown. I believe that, but I do hide the meat if my youngest son-in-law is here. He has no idea some of the things he has eaten in this house that had an expired expiration date on it.
My husband really enjoyed this dish, the first time I made it, so rather than see the pineapple go to waste, aka the compost bin, I decided I could show him my adoration with a second rendition of 'scalloped pineapple'.
The recipe called for five other ingredients, besides the pineapple, and I was pretty sure I had them. That should have been another red flag waving along with the little voice inside my head saying, "But look, you just got the kitchen cleaned up."
"This won't take long." I told the voice.
I gathered the butter, flour, brown sugar, milk and the biscuit mix. Hmm, were there two cups of biscuit mix? I wasn't sure but would deal with it when I got to that part of the recipe. I melted the butter in the microwave and got ready to add the brown sugar.
This was an unopened small box of brown sugar. I have no idea how long it had been sitting in the cabinet but I don't think that brown sugar ever expires so it would be OK. I opened the box, pulled out the sealed bag of brown sugar and it was as hard as a rock. That may not be the right analogy, more like hardened tungsten steel. This small dark brown rectangle of solidified sugar could have been used for a lethal weapon. I pounded it on the counter and couldn't even put a dent in it.
The small voice was whistling in the background. I went to the drawer full of knives and pulled out the Wonder Knife. You know, the kind you see on TV where they cut a concrete block with one and paper thin slices of a tomato with another. I must have thought the Wonder Knife to be a true wonder and fell for the "if you order right now, we'll throw in a second knife for free" because I have two.
Armed with said Wonder Knife, I calculated how much to hack off the end of the brick of brown sugar. The blade barely cut the surface, no matter how much pressure I applied. Oh, the Wonder Knife may be able to slice and dice a tomato in mid air, and if I'm feeling like Edward Scissorhands, I can use both to try that, but it was no match for this weapon of mass destruction that was sitting on the counter. I considered taking it down to the wood shop and running it through the band saw.
The voice was clearing its throat, "Why not put it in the microwave? That should soften it up."
I put it in the microwave, twice. If anything, it was harder than before. I finally "googled" for the solution. The answer was to place a moist paper towel in with the brown sugar, cover it, then nuke it. I did that, twice, and finally was able to break off a piece that sort of resembled 1/4 cup. I placed this chunk in the first part of the batter and used my potato masher to help smush it up. There were still chunks, but I figured if it set a while, it would soften even more.
The second part of the recipe called for more brown sugar, the biscuit mix and milk. I chiseled off another piece and put it in the milk thinking surely it would dissolve in a liquid. I proceeded to measure out the biscuit mix and only had half of what I needed.
There was a box of pancake mix in the cabinet and at that point I really didn't care, it would have to do.
I added the biscuit/pancake mix to the milk and proceeded to whisk it together. There were chunks of brown sugar the size of #57 gravel (nickel and quarter size). Exasperated at this point, I plunged my hands into the batter and squished the chunks until they were at least small enough that they wouldn't break a tooth. The first part of the batter was no different, so I hand smashed that too.
I finally got all the ingredients into the baking dish, threw it in the oven and slammed the door. The voice was sitting in the chair, picking its teeth with the Wonder Knife, staring off into space. "Don't even go there.", I told it. I should have known better, the kitchen always looks like a battle zone when I have a touch of baking madness hit me.
The scalloped pineapple actually turned out to be pretty tasty. If I invite you over for supper, bring a covered dish, preferably with something in it, and I'll go pick up some fried chicken.
If you need me, I'll be out in the yard.
The pineapple was calling my name. It had been sitting on the counter for.......well, let's just say for quite a while. I had great intentions for it. I also figured that it was like most fruit that doesn't grow in the great Midwest, it wasn't ripe when it was picked. Kind of like the butcher when he tells you the meat is really at its peak when it is brown. I believe that, but I do hide the meat if my youngest son-in-law is here. He has no idea some of the things he has eaten in this house that had an expired expiration date on it.
My husband really enjoyed this dish, the first time I made it, so rather than see the pineapple go to waste, aka the compost bin, I decided I could show him my adoration with a second rendition of 'scalloped pineapple'.
The recipe called for five other ingredients, besides the pineapple, and I was pretty sure I had them. That should have been another red flag waving along with the little voice inside my head saying, "But look, you just got the kitchen cleaned up."
"This won't take long." I told the voice.
I gathered the butter, flour, brown sugar, milk and the biscuit mix. Hmm, were there two cups of biscuit mix? I wasn't sure but would deal with it when I got to that part of the recipe. I melted the butter in the microwave and got ready to add the brown sugar.
This was an unopened small box of brown sugar. I have no idea how long it had been sitting in the cabinet but I don't think that brown sugar ever expires so it would be OK. I opened the box, pulled out the sealed bag of brown sugar and it was as hard as a rock. That may not be the right analogy, more like hardened tungsten steel. This small dark brown rectangle of solidified sugar could have been used for a lethal weapon. I pounded it on the counter and couldn't even put a dent in it.
The small voice was whistling in the background. I went to the drawer full of knives and pulled out the Wonder Knife. You know, the kind you see on TV where they cut a concrete block with one and paper thin slices of a tomato with another. I must have thought the Wonder Knife to be a true wonder and fell for the "if you order right now, we'll throw in a second knife for free" because I have two.
Armed with said Wonder Knife, I calculated how much to hack off the end of the brick of brown sugar. The blade barely cut the surface, no matter how much pressure I applied. Oh, the Wonder Knife may be able to slice and dice a tomato in mid air, and if I'm feeling like Edward Scissorhands, I can use both to try that, but it was no match for this weapon of mass destruction that was sitting on the counter. I considered taking it down to the wood shop and running it through the band saw.
The voice was clearing its throat, "Why not put it in the microwave? That should soften it up."
I put it in the microwave, twice. If anything, it was harder than before. I finally "googled" for the solution. The answer was to place a moist paper towel in with the brown sugar, cover it, then nuke it. I did that, twice, and finally was able to break off a piece that sort of resembled 1/4 cup. I placed this chunk in the first part of the batter and used my potato masher to help smush it up. There were still chunks, but I figured if it set a while, it would soften even more.
The second part of the recipe called for more brown sugar, the biscuit mix and milk. I chiseled off another piece and put it in the milk thinking surely it would dissolve in a liquid. I proceeded to measure out the biscuit mix and only had half of what I needed.
There was a box of pancake mix in the cabinet and at that point I really didn't care, it would have to do.
I added the biscuit/pancake mix to the milk and proceeded to whisk it together. There were chunks of brown sugar the size of #57 gravel (nickel and quarter size). Exasperated at this point, I plunged my hands into the batter and squished the chunks until they were at least small enough that they wouldn't break a tooth. The first part of the batter was no different, so I hand smashed that too.
I finally got all the ingredients into the baking dish, threw it in the oven and slammed the door. The voice was sitting in the chair, picking its teeth with the Wonder Knife, staring off into space. "Don't even go there.", I told it. I should have known better, the kitchen always looks like a battle zone when I have a touch of baking madness hit me.
The scalloped pineapple actually turned out to be pretty tasty. If I invite you over for supper, bring a covered dish, preferably with something in it, and I'll go pick up some fried chicken.
If you need me, I'll be out in the yard.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Lifting Laughter
This morning I found my self in a snarky mood. Sometimes I think I'm an empath. That's a person who can feel other people's emotions and even pain.
I had listened to a conversation between two young siblings yesterday. They are usually angry most of the time. They dropped the "f" bomb in their conversation about a dozen times. I could feel their anger and then on top of it I thought how very sad the whole situation was. These were not the two siblings who were with me, had they spewed forth that kind of vulgarness, well, let's just say it wouldn't have been pretty.
I tried to shake it off during the morning paper delivery, of which there are only 16 days left, but it was still there. Arriving back home I discovered I only had one tea bag, that didn't help my mood, because you can only milk one tea bag for so long. I needed something funny.
I scanned the newspaper and found just what I needed. It was an article about the tumbleweed take over in Colorado. This invasive plant is literally blocking roads, bridges and one woman, who was expecting, had to have the area around her house cleared for fear she would go into labor and not be able to get out. One member of the clean up crew said it was like trying to gather up a whole bunch of kindergartners with balloons and keeping them in one place. That did it, that made me laugh out loud because his analogy was so true.
It's amazing what a little laughter can do for the soul. I immediately felt better. The snarkiness picked up its bag and headed out the door. Good riddance, snark.
After my morning ritual of fixing my husband an egg sandwich I headed upstairs to get dressed for the day. I went through the usual routine, fixed my hair, put on a little makeup, got dressed and laced up my shoes. Then I discovered I'd forgot to put on my jeans. That made me laugh out loud too and I wondered if I should venture far from the house today.
Sisters Lela and Blanche are together in the great Southwest and today they are going to a dude ranch. I should be there too, but that's another story. Not being there means I'm going to be missing out on a lot of laughter. Lela has a bit of 'horse woman' in her blood but I don't know that Blanche has ever been on one. Big animals were not always Blanche's forte. When they were younger, back on the farm, Lela would leave Blanche squalling along side of the road by simply telling her the cows were looking at her. Their day should prove to be very interesting.
I may not be there in the physical sense, but if my empath factor is working today, and I'm laughing out loud for no apparent reason, don't call the guys in the white coats.
I had listened to a conversation between two young siblings yesterday. They are usually angry most of the time. They dropped the "f" bomb in their conversation about a dozen times. I could feel their anger and then on top of it I thought how very sad the whole situation was. These were not the two siblings who were with me, had they spewed forth that kind of vulgarness, well, let's just say it wouldn't have been pretty.
I tried to shake it off during the morning paper delivery, of which there are only 16 days left, but it was still there. Arriving back home I discovered I only had one tea bag, that didn't help my mood, because you can only milk one tea bag for so long. I needed something funny.
I scanned the newspaper and found just what I needed. It was an article about the tumbleweed take over in Colorado. This invasive plant is literally blocking roads, bridges and one woman, who was expecting, had to have the area around her house cleared for fear she would go into labor and not be able to get out. One member of the clean up crew said it was like trying to gather up a whole bunch of kindergartners with balloons and keeping them in one place. That did it, that made me laugh out loud because his analogy was so true.
It's amazing what a little laughter can do for the soul. I immediately felt better. The snarkiness picked up its bag and headed out the door. Good riddance, snark.
After my morning ritual of fixing my husband an egg sandwich I headed upstairs to get dressed for the day. I went through the usual routine, fixed my hair, put on a little makeup, got dressed and laced up my shoes. Then I discovered I'd forgot to put on my jeans. That made me laugh out loud too and I wondered if I should venture far from the house today.
Sisters Lela and Blanche are together in the great Southwest and today they are going to a dude ranch. I should be there too, but that's another story. Not being there means I'm going to be missing out on a lot of laughter. Lela has a bit of 'horse woman' in her blood but I don't know that Blanche has ever been on one. Big animals were not always Blanche's forte. When they were younger, back on the farm, Lela would leave Blanche squalling along side of the road by simply telling her the cows were looking at her. Their day should prove to be very interesting.
I may not be there in the physical sense, but if my empath factor is working today, and I'm laughing out loud for no apparent reason, don't call the guys in the white coats.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Each Day Has It
It's Wednesday. Hump Day if you follow the camel, Whacky Wednesday, if you read my blog. It's also SIP day. That stands for school improvement day.
School improvement day always falls on a Wednesday. I don't know what takes place in school on this particular day, but school will dismiss at 12:15. This day was in practice when we owned the buses. We asked one time, why not have this day on a Friday, instead of in the middle of the week. The answer we got was that it was hard enough to keep the teachers around on a Wednesday afternoon, a Friday afternoon would be nearly impossible. Like I said, I have no idea what goes on during SIP day.
Thinking about when we owned the buses made something come to mind. When we owned them we paid for every drop of the fuel it took to run them up and down the road. It seems there are some who would beg to differ that information. Stop by, I've got all the proof and I would be more than happy to show it to you.
Anyway, I may not know exactly what a SIP day means for the school, but I do know what it means to me. Ms. Sassafrass will not go to school today and her brother, the Aceman, will be here this afternoon. Therefore, I will not get much accomplished in the way of what is on my list of things to accomplish.
That's OK. Yesterday was a good day, a busy day and I accomplished everything on my to-do list. The weather for today is going to be fantastic with a high of nearly 70 degrees. It will be a good day to get the kids outdoors and make some new discoveries.
When I let the cats out of the garage this morning, I discovered they are not so different from us humans. Tigger is not even a year old. He bounds out the door and then stops. He listens for every little sound. He sees all the birds eagerly gleaning the grass in the neighbor's yard. He chases ten leaves that skitter in the light wind before he has traveled ten feet. He finally makes it to the deck, only to retrace his steps and begin the entire process over again.
Pussy Cat, who, after some recent calculations is nearly 17 years old, heads straight for the food dish. She doesn't hear the sounds because she has lost that sense. She doesn't give a mouse's tail about the birds and chasing leaves is simply out of the question. She's getting frail and for an outdoor cat, she's way past the average life span. I don't know if she will make it through the rest of this year.
Today I will be like Tigger. I will try my best to see the newness each day brings through the eyes of two small children. I might not chase leaves or try to catch a bird, but then again, maybe I will.
School improvement day always falls on a Wednesday. I don't know what takes place in school on this particular day, but school will dismiss at 12:15. This day was in practice when we owned the buses. We asked one time, why not have this day on a Friday, instead of in the middle of the week. The answer we got was that it was hard enough to keep the teachers around on a Wednesday afternoon, a Friday afternoon would be nearly impossible. Like I said, I have no idea what goes on during SIP day.
Thinking about when we owned the buses made something come to mind. When we owned them we paid for every drop of the fuel it took to run them up and down the road. It seems there are some who would beg to differ that information. Stop by, I've got all the proof and I would be more than happy to show it to you.
Anyway, I may not know exactly what a SIP day means for the school, but I do know what it means to me. Ms. Sassafrass will not go to school today and her brother, the Aceman, will be here this afternoon. Therefore, I will not get much accomplished in the way of what is on my list of things to accomplish.
That's OK. Yesterday was a good day, a busy day and I accomplished everything on my to-do list. The weather for today is going to be fantastic with a high of nearly 70 degrees. It will be a good day to get the kids outdoors and make some new discoveries.
When I let the cats out of the garage this morning, I discovered they are not so different from us humans. Tigger is not even a year old. He bounds out the door and then stops. He listens for every little sound. He sees all the birds eagerly gleaning the grass in the neighbor's yard. He chases ten leaves that skitter in the light wind before he has traveled ten feet. He finally makes it to the deck, only to retrace his steps and begin the entire process over again.
Pussy Cat, who, after some recent calculations is nearly 17 years old, heads straight for the food dish. She doesn't hear the sounds because she has lost that sense. She doesn't give a mouse's tail about the birds and chasing leaves is simply out of the question. She's getting frail and for an outdoor cat, she's way past the average life span. I don't know if she will make it through the rest of this year.
Today I will be like Tigger. I will try my best to see the newness each day brings through the eyes of two small children. I might not chase leaves or try to catch a bird, but then again, maybe I will.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Because I Have To
I don't have anything significant to pass along to the human race today. My proof reader won't let me be a slacker, she doesn't understand that procrastination is the name of my game. Maybe she does understand that better than myself, hence the reason I get little snarky texts when she does not see my handy work. So here I am, writing, blogging 'much ado about nothing'.
It's a busy day today, lots of things going on. The main mission is a trip to the accountant, 'tis tax time. Rolling the compost bin will surely prove to be more fun than this. Although, I think the contents of the bin have a direct correlation with some of the taxes that are put upon us.
Next on the list is a birthday tune for my youngest son-in-law. He rarely reads my blogs so I doubt this will spoil the surprise. In the long run he will probably wish I had forgot. No chance of that happening. The last birthday dittie was a compilation of Beatles songs and it turned out to be a big hit, not only for the recipient, but for everyone who viewed it. A little birdie has informed me that today's luck duck birthday boy likes the band Journey. Not that I'm a great singer to start with, but Journey songs are hard to sing. I apologize in advance to all the Journey fans for the butchering that will take place later this afternoon. It may take me all day to get it done, but it will be online before midnight.
I have a part time gig as a bookkeeper for a local construction company. They need their taxes done too. It's nice that we all wait until the last hoorah to gather the needed information. It's not like we didn't know it was coming. This ailment probably falls under "prolonging the agony".
Ms. Sassafrass is put out with me because we can't watch the movie "Frozen".......again. I tried to explain to her that I can't watch it everyday because I can't get the songs out of my head. It really is not fun to wake up at 2 a.m. with "Do you want to build a snowman" playing in my head. It also makes it difficult to try and sing Journey songs. Sassafrass didn't accept my reasoning as valid, but did settle for a cartoon, that I'm pretty sure she has seen several times. I can hear her answering all the questions before the answer is given.
My business of turning real flowers into jewelry and other keepsakes has really taken off. I'm getting orders almost on a daily basis and for this I'm very thankful. The studio in which I work is where I should be right now, instead of writing mundane things about my day.
The tax man cometh (and the tax man taketh away), the Journey songs are spinning on a turntable in the back of my brain, beads full of flowers are waiting to be crafted into bracelets and I wrote in my blog..........even though I didn't want to.
It's a busy day today, lots of things going on. The main mission is a trip to the accountant, 'tis tax time. Rolling the compost bin will surely prove to be more fun than this. Although, I think the contents of the bin have a direct correlation with some of the taxes that are put upon us.
Next on the list is a birthday tune for my youngest son-in-law. He rarely reads my blogs so I doubt this will spoil the surprise. In the long run he will probably wish I had forgot. No chance of that happening. The last birthday dittie was a compilation of Beatles songs and it turned out to be a big hit, not only for the recipient, but for everyone who viewed it. A little birdie has informed me that today's luck duck birthday boy likes the band Journey. Not that I'm a great singer to start with, but Journey songs are hard to sing. I apologize in advance to all the Journey fans for the butchering that will take place later this afternoon. It may take me all day to get it done, but it will be online before midnight.
I have a part time gig as a bookkeeper for a local construction company. They need their taxes done too. It's nice that we all wait until the last hoorah to gather the needed information. It's not like we didn't know it was coming. This ailment probably falls under "prolonging the agony".
Ms. Sassafrass is put out with me because we can't watch the movie "Frozen".......again. I tried to explain to her that I can't watch it everyday because I can't get the songs out of my head. It really is not fun to wake up at 2 a.m. with "Do you want to build a snowman" playing in my head. It also makes it difficult to try and sing Journey songs. Sassafrass didn't accept my reasoning as valid, but did settle for a cartoon, that I'm pretty sure she has seen several times. I can hear her answering all the questions before the answer is given.
My business of turning real flowers into jewelry and other keepsakes has really taken off. I'm getting orders almost on a daily basis and for this I'm very thankful. The studio in which I work is where I should be right now, instead of writing mundane things about my day.
The tax man cometh (and the tax man taketh away), the Journey songs are spinning on a turntable in the back of my brain, beads full of flowers are waiting to be crafted into bracelets and I wrote in my blog..........even though I didn't want to.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Outdoorsiness
What a fantastic weekend it was! The weather was great, the sun was shining and the yard was calling my name. It was also time for the first rolling of the compost bin. I hadn't been that excited about something for a long time.
I had taken a sneak peek at it during the week and even though there really isn't a whole lot of stuff in there, I did see some steam roll out when I opened the lid. That, according to the experts in composting, is a good sign. I had to wait six days before it could be rolled and Saturday was it. It was heavier than I imagined and took some muscle to get it to turn, but the fins worked nicely to mix up my batch of steaming goods. I shall install a couple of handles on the barrel before the next rolling. Being excited about this is probably a pretty good indication that I need to get out more often.
There was so much to do and so little time. I always want to accomplish a whole winter's worth of neglected yard work on the first nice day. The first item on the yard agenda was the leaves. I ended up with three large piles of them. I have one small tree in my yard and not one of the leaves in the three large piles belonged to it. I do wish my neighbors would do something with their leaves besides letting them blow into my yard, especially the seventy foot tall sycamore tree leaves, they're as big as my head. But alas, I don't see that happening any time soon and they will provide more fodder for the compost bin.
It was glorious to be outside for two whole days and the only snafu happened yesterday afternoon. This warm spell has been a long time coming. It had lots of folks outdoors, including one young man who deemed it necessary to rip and snort his truck up and down the streets of this small town.
Don't get me wrong, I have a husband who loves to rip and snort his hot rod, when he has the chance. Some things about the male species never change. But, there is a time and a place for rippin' & snortin' and in a small town, on warm spring day, with the streets lined with children, is not the time nor the place to do it. One of my neighbors had yelled at this kid on one of his many passes, but since his mufflers, or lack there of, were so loud, I doubted that he heard the shout. I could hear him about four blocks away and meandered out to the front of the house and waited on the sidewalk.
He roared up the hill and made the turn onto my street, hit the gas and then he saw me. He made a half hearted attempt to let off of it, but it was too late. The sun reflecting off the windshield made it impossible for me to see who was driving, but his passenger gave me a slight wave. I returned the wave with a nod, reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. He must have thought I was calling the law because about 30 seconds later I could hear the truck roaring off to the east, out of town.
What I had actually done was to put a post on the social media network, Facebook, just to find out who it was. It took about two minutes to solve the mystery. I knew the kid, he used to ride my bus. He also knows me well enough to understand that there are certain things I don't put up with. He may have had the thought too, that I still had his dad's phone number......and I do.
So I've come full circle and probably will be known as the mean old lady at the end of South Corey Street. That's OK. There are 24 kids that live on my street and four of them are my grandchildren. If he thought I was a force to be reckoned with on the bus, he ain't seen nothin' yet.
I had taken a sneak peek at it during the week and even though there really isn't a whole lot of stuff in there, I did see some steam roll out when I opened the lid. That, according to the experts in composting, is a good sign. I had to wait six days before it could be rolled and Saturday was it. It was heavier than I imagined and took some muscle to get it to turn, but the fins worked nicely to mix up my batch of steaming goods. I shall install a couple of handles on the barrel before the next rolling. Being excited about this is probably a pretty good indication that I need to get out more often.
There was so much to do and so little time. I always want to accomplish a whole winter's worth of neglected yard work on the first nice day. The first item on the yard agenda was the leaves. I ended up with three large piles of them. I have one small tree in my yard and not one of the leaves in the three large piles belonged to it. I do wish my neighbors would do something with their leaves besides letting them blow into my yard, especially the seventy foot tall sycamore tree leaves, they're as big as my head. But alas, I don't see that happening any time soon and they will provide more fodder for the compost bin.
It was glorious to be outside for two whole days and the only snafu happened yesterday afternoon. This warm spell has been a long time coming. It had lots of folks outdoors, including one young man who deemed it necessary to rip and snort his truck up and down the streets of this small town.
Don't get me wrong, I have a husband who loves to rip and snort his hot rod, when he has the chance. Some things about the male species never change. But, there is a time and a place for rippin' & snortin' and in a small town, on warm spring day, with the streets lined with children, is not the time nor the place to do it. One of my neighbors had yelled at this kid on one of his many passes, but since his mufflers, or lack there of, were so loud, I doubted that he heard the shout. I could hear him about four blocks away and meandered out to the front of the house and waited on the sidewalk.
He roared up the hill and made the turn onto my street, hit the gas and then he saw me. He made a half hearted attempt to let off of it, but it was too late. The sun reflecting off the windshield made it impossible for me to see who was driving, but his passenger gave me a slight wave. I returned the wave with a nod, reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. He must have thought I was calling the law because about 30 seconds later I could hear the truck roaring off to the east, out of town.
What I had actually done was to put a post on the social media network, Facebook, just to find out who it was. It took about two minutes to solve the mystery. I knew the kid, he used to ride my bus. He also knows me well enough to understand that there are certain things I don't put up with. He may have had the thought too, that I still had his dad's phone number......and I do.
So I've come full circle and probably will be known as the mean old lady at the end of South Corey Street. That's OK. There are 24 kids that live on my street and four of them are my grandchildren. If he thought I was a force to be reckoned with on the bus, he ain't seen nothin' yet.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Out of the Mouths of Babes
The other day I left you with a project that Ms. Sassafrass and I were going to tackle. We had plans to make a plastic bottle tower strawberry garden.
We set up shop in the middle of the kitchen floor and gathered all the parts needed to assemble our garden. Seven 2 liter plastic bottles, potting mix and a bag of 10 strawberry plants. I had made a few adjustments to the diagram because this garden was going to be inside for a couple of weeks while we wait for the guarantee of no more frosty mornings. The original plan called for the first bottle to sit on the ground, where it would drain. Since I didn't want it to drain on the kitchen floor, I made a "catch" bottle for the water and attached it to the bottom. This of course, wasn't going to allow it to be free standing, so I made a macrame hanger out of household twine to hold it.
During the construction process my husband called to say he would be home for lunch. I relayed this message to Ms. Sassafrass and she was delighted. Out of her 3 1/2 year old mouth came the following words, "Yay! Papa's gonna fweak out when he sees all dese bottles."
Here is a picture of our completed hanging bottle tower strawberry garden, with Sassafrass striking a pose:
She is wise beyond her years, but patience isn't one of her virtues. An hour after this was done she had asked me at least five times if the strawberries were done yet.
She arrived yesterday adorned in a "Hello Kitty" shirt and ready to watch the movie "Frozen". There is nothing finer than watching a kid's movie, that I had yet to see, with a kid who has seen it more than once. She knows all the dialogue by heart and proceeded to tell me what was going to be said, before it was said along with accompanying facial expressions and body language.
I tried not to be annoyed and about fifteen minutes into the show, her mother called. Our youngest daughter and her husband live in a "Money Pit". An older 2-story home, just up the street from us. They have spent the last several months remodeling the older part of the house. The roof, on the old part, is covered with slate shingles and has a large flat area on the very top which may, at one time, have been the widow's walk.
I answered the phone and heard the familiar "Mom, I need you to come up here!" We had gotten a lot of rain during the night and she had discovered a huge leak in their newly remodeled upstairs bedroom.
I told Ms. Sassafrass what the situation was and that we needed to go to her house. We would have to watch the movie at a later date. She was fine with that so we jumped in the car and headed up the street.
Her mother was in the attic and the access hole to the attic is in Sassafrass's bedroom. I encouraged her to play with her toys and went up the ladder to join her mother. What she had discovered in the attic was not a pretty sight. There is a set of steps that lead up to the flat part of the roof, at the top of the steps is a lid that gives access to the flat part of the roof. The lid was laying on the floor of the attic and had been for quite some time. So here was a four foot by two foot gaping hole in the roof that had been open to the heavens during the downpour and there was another storm on the way.
My daughter and I wrestled the bent and falling apart lid, all the while trying to remember not to step off the boards for the attic floor lest we end up in one of the newly remodeled bedrooms. The wind was whipping down into the attic and a few rain drops were beginning to fall. I went up the small steps to see what we had to work with on the top and discovered, for what it was worth, that you could certainly see a long way from that vantage point, clear across the Illinois River bottom to the east, several miles away.
We decided we had the lid fixed, as best we could, and were trying to navigate the small steps together, to get it back on top of the hole, when we hear, "Whoa, Hello Kitty's gettin cold." There sat Ms. Sassafrass perched on top of the ladder.
It's really hard to laugh like an idiot and manhandle a bent and battered 2x4 foot lid, but we managed to get it on before the next storm cut loose.
I've heard it said that a person should know all there really is to know about how to get along with people by the age of 5. The basics that will carry you through the rest of your life. Children listen and learn, we need to teach them well.
We set up shop in the middle of the kitchen floor and gathered all the parts needed to assemble our garden. Seven 2 liter plastic bottles, potting mix and a bag of 10 strawberry plants. I had made a few adjustments to the diagram because this garden was going to be inside for a couple of weeks while we wait for the guarantee of no more frosty mornings. The original plan called for the first bottle to sit on the ground, where it would drain. Since I didn't want it to drain on the kitchen floor, I made a "catch" bottle for the water and attached it to the bottom. This of course, wasn't going to allow it to be free standing, so I made a macrame hanger out of household twine to hold it.
During the construction process my husband called to say he would be home for lunch. I relayed this message to Ms. Sassafrass and she was delighted. Out of her 3 1/2 year old mouth came the following words, "Yay! Papa's gonna fweak out when he sees all dese bottles."
Here is a picture of our completed hanging bottle tower strawberry garden, with Sassafrass striking a pose:
She arrived yesterday adorned in a "Hello Kitty" shirt and ready to watch the movie "Frozen". There is nothing finer than watching a kid's movie, that I had yet to see, with a kid who has seen it more than once. She knows all the dialogue by heart and proceeded to tell me what was going to be said, before it was said along with accompanying facial expressions and body language.
I tried not to be annoyed and about fifteen minutes into the show, her mother called. Our youngest daughter and her husband live in a "Money Pit". An older 2-story home, just up the street from us. They have spent the last several months remodeling the older part of the house. The roof, on the old part, is covered with slate shingles and has a large flat area on the very top which may, at one time, have been the widow's walk.
I answered the phone and heard the familiar "Mom, I need you to come up here!" We had gotten a lot of rain during the night and she had discovered a huge leak in their newly remodeled upstairs bedroom.
I told Ms. Sassafrass what the situation was and that we needed to go to her house. We would have to watch the movie at a later date. She was fine with that so we jumped in the car and headed up the street.
Her mother was in the attic and the access hole to the attic is in Sassafrass's bedroom. I encouraged her to play with her toys and went up the ladder to join her mother. What she had discovered in the attic was not a pretty sight. There is a set of steps that lead up to the flat part of the roof, at the top of the steps is a lid that gives access to the flat part of the roof. The lid was laying on the floor of the attic and had been for quite some time. So here was a four foot by two foot gaping hole in the roof that had been open to the heavens during the downpour and there was another storm on the way.
My daughter and I wrestled the bent and falling apart lid, all the while trying to remember not to step off the boards for the attic floor lest we end up in one of the newly remodeled bedrooms. The wind was whipping down into the attic and a few rain drops were beginning to fall. I went up the small steps to see what we had to work with on the top and discovered, for what it was worth, that you could certainly see a long way from that vantage point, clear across the Illinois River bottom to the east, several miles away.
We decided we had the lid fixed, as best we could, and were trying to navigate the small steps together, to get it back on top of the hole, when we hear, "Whoa, Hello Kitty's gettin cold." There sat Ms. Sassafrass perched on top of the ladder.
It's really hard to laugh like an idiot and manhandle a bent and battered 2x4 foot lid, but we managed to get it on before the next storm cut loose.
I've heard it said that a person should know all there really is to know about how to get along with people by the age of 5. The basics that will carry you through the rest of your life. Children listen and learn, we need to teach them well.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Rainy Escapades
"April showers bring May flowers." If that's the case, last night's rain should have helped kick start the growing process.
I awoke before the 4:30 a.m. alarm went off because it was absolutely pouring. I laid there and thought how much fun it was going to be to deliver papers in a down pour. I had about 15 minutes left before I had to get up and thought 'what the heck', just get up now.
I wrapped the papers in their little plastic rain bags, pulled on my knee high rubber boots and grabbed one of those handy dandy rain ponchos in a bag. There is a reason why you don't put a plastic bag on your head and I was nearly in panic mode before I found the opening for my head in the poncho.
The rubber boots proved to be a wise choice, on the third stop the water had pooled on the sidewalk to a depth of about 4 inches. Something I didn't see in the dark and would have swamped my tennis shoes right off the get go.
I was beginning to doubt my choice of the rain poncho. It worked fine to keep me from getting soaked to the bone, but it had some wardrobe malfunctions. The first being the attached hood. It may have worked better if the wind hadn't been blowing but every time I got out of the car, I had to hold the hood in one hand, gathered under my chin, to keep it on my head. Whilst in the car, it had no problem staying on, but like most articles of clothing with a hood, they don't move with your head. Looking left and right, just in case some other nut case was out running the streets that early, allowed me to look inside the hood. Luckily it was transparent so I could see oncoming headlights. I also discovered, after about the sixth stop that my face was wet enough and I could stick the hood to my cheeks while driving and it would stay put.
Since the ponchos are a one size fits all, there is ample room in one for myself and possibly eight other people. The wind would travel up the bottom of the poncho, completely defeating its purpose of keeping me dry. At one stop, with a wide open exposure to the north, I nearly had a fight with myself trying to keep the poncho from becoming air born. Talk about not being able to fight your way out of a paper sack, I was beginning to think I would make the headlines of the next day's paper....."Woman Found in a Poncho Straight Jacket". Had it been closer to Halloween, I could have been the translucent Grim Reaper, minus the sickle.
By the time I returned home, I wasn't too worse for wear. My sleeves were pretty soaked from the elbow down, but for the most part, the poncho did its job. The cloth seat of my car is another story.
My shenanigans of delivering papers will soon be coming to an end, I've given them my notice and only have about 3 weeks left. They aren't very happy with me and I don't blame them, it's hard to find somebody who wants to work. I should have known better to take something else on and it bothers me that I've given up so quickly. I'm sure when I get the bill for when my car broke down, I won't feel so bad about quitting, as it will probably far exceed what I've made during this endeavor.
Lesson learned and the next time my husband growls about the paper not being here on time, he can go uptown and get one his own self.
I awoke before the 4:30 a.m. alarm went off because it was absolutely pouring. I laid there and thought how much fun it was going to be to deliver papers in a down pour. I had about 15 minutes left before I had to get up and thought 'what the heck', just get up now.
I wrapped the papers in their little plastic rain bags, pulled on my knee high rubber boots and grabbed one of those handy dandy rain ponchos in a bag. There is a reason why you don't put a plastic bag on your head and I was nearly in panic mode before I found the opening for my head in the poncho.
The rubber boots proved to be a wise choice, on the third stop the water had pooled on the sidewalk to a depth of about 4 inches. Something I didn't see in the dark and would have swamped my tennis shoes right off the get go.
I was beginning to doubt my choice of the rain poncho. It worked fine to keep me from getting soaked to the bone, but it had some wardrobe malfunctions. The first being the attached hood. It may have worked better if the wind hadn't been blowing but every time I got out of the car, I had to hold the hood in one hand, gathered under my chin, to keep it on my head. Whilst in the car, it had no problem staying on, but like most articles of clothing with a hood, they don't move with your head. Looking left and right, just in case some other nut case was out running the streets that early, allowed me to look inside the hood. Luckily it was transparent so I could see oncoming headlights. I also discovered, after about the sixth stop that my face was wet enough and I could stick the hood to my cheeks while driving and it would stay put.
Since the ponchos are a one size fits all, there is ample room in one for myself and possibly eight other people. The wind would travel up the bottom of the poncho, completely defeating its purpose of keeping me dry. At one stop, with a wide open exposure to the north, I nearly had a fight with myself trying to keep the poncho from becoming air born. Talk about not being able to fight your way out of a paper sack, I was beginning to think I would make the headlines of the next day's paper....."Woman Found in a Poncho Straight Jacket". Had it been closer to Halloween, I could have been the translucent Grim Reaper, minus the sickle.
By the time I returned home, I wasn't too worse for wear. My sleeves were pretty soaked from the elbow down, but for the most part, the poncho did its job. The cloth seat of my car is another story.
My shenanigans of delivering papers will soon be coming to an end, I've given them my notice and only have about 3 weeks left. They aren't very happy with me and I don't blame them, it's hard to find somebody who wants to work. I should have known better to take something else on and it bothers me that I've given up so quickly. I'm sure when I get the bill for when my car broke down, I won't feel so bad about quitting, as it will probably far exceed what I've made during this endeavor.
Lesson learned and the next time my husband growls about the paper not being here on time, he can go uptown and get one his own self.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Team Mole
Since yesterday was April Fool's Day I shall use that as my excuse for not writing. I had great intentions and even a subject matter, then a wrench got thrown in the gears and my time schedule was all out of whack. Well, that's the best excuse I can come up with.
Being cooped up for a very long and cold winter has made for snarky attitudes so with the arrival of Spring like weather, its been good to get outside. I love to be out in the yard, doing yard work is like therapy and after this winter there is plenty to do.
I walked through the yard the other day and noticed that there was a war brewing just below the surface. There were mole runs everywhere, even under one of the raised patios. I checked the yard next door, that I take care of, and it too looked like a maze of moles on steroids.
Several years ago an older gentlemen told me the best time to catch moles was at 10 in the morning or 2 in the afternoon. I didn't think that could be possible, but he was right, moles work in their tunnels at those four hour time slots. Why they do this is beyond my scope of understanding, maybe they have some mole union that only allows them to work at this time.
I would arm myself with a long bladed knife and walk stealthily across the yard to my targeted mole hill. They are crafty little creatures and can pick up the slightest vibration, so stealth mole mode was a required trait to be a successful mole hunter. I did get a couple of moles this way, but moles do not follow the daylight savings time change, probably something in their union contract that forbids this, so it makes it difficult to remember that their 10 is my 11.
Another way to get rid of moles is to put hair in their runs. Human hair. According to America's Master Gardener, Jerry Baker, moles do not have a coagulating agent in their blood system, so if they get cut, they bleed to death. Sounds kind of mean and cruel but falling into the evil realms of the Mole King or breaking an ankle in a run sounds much worse to me.
Having a hairdresser daughter, there is never a shortage of cut hair. I told Ms. Sassafrass that we would declare war on the moles and she was all for it. The temperature was mild but the wind was blowing about 40 mph so we suited up in our armor of coats, mittens, stocking caps and earmuffs. We then armed ourselves with a bag of hair and two soup spoons and headed to the front line. Ms. Sassafrass' digging skills left a lot to be desired and after she flipped dirt in my eyes for the third time, we changed up our strategy. I would dig and place the hair in the hole, she would poke the hair in further and cover the hole back up. This proved to be most successful and after the second stuffing of the hair in a mole run, she filled the hole, took her soup spoon and patted the top three times and proclaimed, "Dat's what I call teamwork." She would proclaim this pseudo victory until the end of our mission.
After she went to school, I applied some grub killer to the yard. I don't like to use chemicals, but I wasn't taking any chances of the hair in the run not working. I won't tell Sassafrass, she can just relish in the belief that she got rid of the moles and her so tender young understanding of what team work is all about.
Today Ms. Sassafrass and I are going to plant strawberries, right in the middle of the kitchen floor. She has been on me to buy some so I told her we would just grow them instead. I found a most interesting idea online about growing plants in discarded 2 liter bottles and making said bottles into a tower. The bottles are ready along with a garbage bag of homemade potting soil and a package of 10 strawberry plants. This should prove to be interesting, along with giving me no excuses for not running the vacuum later on.
Whatever the outcome, I'm sure it will be a team effort.
Being cooped up for a very long and cold winter has made for snarky attitudes so with the arrival of Spring like weather, its been good to get outside. I love to be out in the yard, doing yard work is like therapy and after this winter there is plenty to do.
I walked through the yard the other day and noticed that there was a war brewing just below the surface. There were mole runs everywhere, even under one of the raised patios. I checked the yard next door, that I take care of, and it too looked like a maze of moles on steroids.
Several years ago an older gentlemen told me the best time to catch moles was at 10 in the morning or 2 in the afternoon. I didn't think that could be possible, but he was right, moles work in their tunnels at those four hour time slots. Why they do this is beyond my scope of understanding, maybe they have some mole union that only allows them to work at this time.
I would arm myself with a long bladed knife and walk stealthily across the yard to my targeted mole hill. They are crafty little creatures and can pick up the slightest vibration, so stealth mole mode was a required trait to be a successful mole hunter. I did get a couple of moles this way, but moles do not follow the daylight savings time change, probably something in their union contract that forbids this, so it makes it difficult to remember that their 10 is my 11.
Another way to get rid of moles is to put hair in their runs. Human hair. According to America's Master Gardener, Jerry Baker, moles do not have a coagulating agent in their blood system, so if they get cut, they bleed to death. Sounds kind of mean and cruel but falling into the evil realms of the Mole King or breaking an ankle in a run sounds much worse to me.
Having a hairdresser daughter, there is never a shortage of cut hair. I told Ms. Sassafrass that we would declare war on the moles and she was all for it. The temperature was mild but the wind was blowing about 40 mph so we suited up in our armor of coats, mittens, stocking caps and earmuffs. We then armed ourselves with a bag of hair and two soup spoons and headed to the front line. Ms. Sassafrass' digging skills left a lot to be desired and after she flipped dirt in my eyes for the third time, we changed up our strategy. I would dig and place the hair in the hole, she would poke the hair in further and cover the hole back up. This proved to be most successful and after the second stuffing of the hair in a mole run, she filled the hole, took her soup spoon and patted the top three times and proclaimed, "Dat's what I call teamwork." She would proclaim this pseudo victory until the end of our mission.
After she went to school, I applied some grub killer to the yard. I don't like to use chemicals, but I wasn't taking any chances of the hair in the run not working. I won't tell Sassafrass, she can just relish in the belief that she got rid of the moles and her so tender young understanding of what team work is all about.
Today Ms. Sassafrass and I are going to plant strawberries, right in the middle of the kitchen floor. She has been on me to buy some so I told her we would just grow them instead. I found a most interesting idea online about growing plants in discarded 2 liter bottles and making said bottles into a tower. The bottles are ready along with a garbage bag of homemade potting soil and a package of 10 strawberry plants. This should prove to be interesting, along with giving me no excuses for not running the vacuum later on.
Whatever the outcome, I'm sure it will be a team effort.
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