The Grandest

Grand Vacation Eve

Things To Do:
Get rid of my headache
Go to bed
Finish laundry
Finish packing
Think of things I might forget to pack
Go to bed
Find list I made earlier of things to pack
Find list I made earlier of things I might forget to pack
Go to bed
Finish cleaning up kitchen
Pay a few bills
Go to bed

The SLD and the SFG

Today the sun is shining, the rain barrel is full, and I am feeling pressure to get some outside things done before we leave for the Grand Vacation.  The front flower bed is not going to be one of those things that I complete before departure.  I am digging out the sod that I planted there last Spring.  It is a very lonely job.  That is taking 8 times longer than I planned for it to take.  It would go much quicker if I had some help.  The last time I was out there digging, I was trying to think if I knew any strong (handsome) young men who could help me.  But it seemed just wrong to call someone else's husband and/or teenage son when I already have one of each. 
When I realized that I will not get that project done, I moved to the back yard and loosened the dirt along the fence to stick a few sunflower seeds in the ground.  They will germinate in 10-14 days, so they will be able to do that while I am away, and save us all the trouble of me going out to stare at the dirt three times a day for 10-14 days.  While I was digging along the fence, Dixie was patrolling the backyard for squirrels.  And watching me dig.  And then because she loves to dig and she is such a sensitive dog, she sensed that I wanted help digging.  And so she joined me in digging.  Only she decided to dig in the Square Foot Garden box.  With the lovely loose wonder dirt.  She started in the square foot of basil and, because the dirt is so loose and only 6 inches deep, she moved quickly on to a square foot of pepper and half a square foot of lettuce.  The problem with a Square Foot Garden is that two little dog feet can wipe out a whole crop in mere seconds.  When I saw what she was doing, I yelled at her.  And she looked positively ashamed of herself and just a little confused.  And then she came in the house and laid on the couch. 
And then I realized that that is exactly why I have no help.  Because I yell at them for not doing it right.  And then instead of doing it right they give up and lay on the couch. What I am trying to decide is if the problem is me yelling or them not doing it right.   I think that they don't do it right SO I will yell and they can lay on the couch. 
It bothers me that the dog figured this out before I did.  Stupid Little Dog.

Transplanted

It always comes as a surprise
When my withered roots begin to grow...

I do not remember moving as a child.  My parents moved their family of six into the house where they still live when I was just three or four years old.  It is the only house I remember growing up.  The neighborhood has changed. The house itself, in fact, grew a story.  But it has always been 'home'.
Since I left home to go to college I have moved 11 times (not counting the 4 times I moved back home).  And I moved three of my four kids when they were in middle school.  And after three of them moved out, I moved away.  I'm not sure where they would call 'home'.  I had some mother guilt about this last week.  I bought a few plants to assuage this.

I transplanted several things last week.  And this week, they look just the same.  No signs of new growth.  No signs of death.  Just not much difference at all.  I think that is pretty typical of transplanted things. And transplanted people.   It takes awhile for them to adjust, to take root, to start to grow again.
Although I'm not wilting, I'm not really thriving either. 
But I know Who transplanted me here and I trust the Master Gardener.
The rain is falling, and I think sunshine is in the forecast and I sense new growth is coming. 

I need You in my house, 'cause You're my home.

The STP and the SFG

As promised, here is the Square Foot Garden garden update.  Following the guide of the Square Foot Garden book.  Remember the amazing STP built the raised bed.  Complete with little decorative corners.  You can review that process here.  And then I began a search for vermiculite.  The Co-op guy is still working on this one.  I did find small bags of too fine vermiculite at the not-quite-a-stuff-mart here in Dodge City.  If the garden does not grow, it will be the Co-op guy's fault.  

To start we mixed three bags of compost.  (Because even though the STP built me a compost bin, you can not make good compost in three days.) 

Then we added almost equal parts of pseudo substitute vermiculite and peat moss.   

And used the tarp rolling method to mix it all together.

The STP was instrumental in hauling, mixing, and shoveling.   (This was key, because I was busy documenting our progress and reading the book, and telling him what to do next.)  Here he is filling the box.

The raised bed full of SFG wonder dirt. 

Next we used twine to divide the Square Foot Garden into Square Feet.

And then we planted the carefully chosen crops.

Two cherry tomato plants.  One pumpkin.  One miniature rhubarb (I don't think it is supposed to be a miniature, that's just how it's turned out so far.).  Four Walla Walla onions.  Two sweet peppers and two jalapeno peppers.  (At this point we can't remember which are which, but when they get peppers, we will know.)  Two square feet of lettuce.  Basil.  Cilantro. Four marigolds. And carrots.

The STP's hunting mentor told me I should not calculate the price per pound for mule deer steaks.  Likewise, we will not calculate the price per pound for cherry tomatoes.  But just remember, these are totally organic cherry tomatoes.  Watered with pure Wyoming rain water. 

Full to Overflowing

Today it rained.  And my rainbarrel is full. 

Enthusiastic Participant?

At the beginning of track season when we made the "no whining about track pact" we sealed the deal with a video game purchase.  (To offset all the time the Goob would be spending outdoors exercising)  And the checkout lady was our witness.  "I'll be looking for your picture in the paper," she said. 

This weekend we celebrated the end of track season.  The Conference meet was last weekend and the Goob was part of the fourth place relay team.  So he got a fourth place ribbon.  Which is way better than a participant ribbon that they used to give out at track day. 

And he got his picture in the paper. 

We celebrated with Oreo Mcflurries and by watching Forrest Gump.  Run, Goober, run.

For Your Amazement

 Yes, to your amazement he will show him even greater things than these.  For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, even so the Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it.

John 5:20b-21 

Just a reminder that, while I judge based on appearance, Jesus knows what's inside.  And God has been doing amazing things with bushes in deserts since the days of Moses.  Green leaves on dead red twigs.  Amazing.

Down My Rain Barrel

One of the songs on a record we had as children was about an invitation to come out and play.  Something something down my rain barrel, slide down my cellar door, and we'll be jolly friends--forever more.  But I couldn't remember (or even imagine) what we would do down a rain barrel.  So I googled the lyrics I could remember.  And I came up with a number of other people looking for the lyrics.  And then I found them. 

Say, say, oh playmate,

Come out and play with me

And bring your dollies three

Climb up my apple tree

Shout down my rain barrel

Slide down my cellar door

And we'll be jolly friends

Forever more more more more more

Sliding down the cellar door, I got that; but I never had a rain barrel.
Until today.

I've been researching and shopping online for rain barrels for over a year.  Occasionally I put one in my cyber shopping cart and pushed it around the internet.  (And then I parked it and logged off.)  Last year I had a rain tub.  But today the STP made me a rain barrel.  That is him in the barrel.  He was in there shouting directions to the Goob.  Who, as you can plainly see, he had over the barrel.

And this is the totally awesome spigot the STP installed in the barrel. 







And here it is all set up behind the garage just waiting for rain. 

As with most of my ideas, the locals scoff at my desire for a rain barrel. 
"It doesn't rain here," they say. 
Like maybe I haven't noticed that.  They think that it must be a 'back east' thing. 
"You're not from here, are you?" they say.
I don't tell them I never had a rain barrel before.  Because I never needed one before.  Because it rains where I am from.  I don't respond to them at all, because (in my head) I'm singing the next verse.

I'm sorry, playmate

I cannot play with you

My dolly's got the flu

Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo

"You're weird,"  they say. (In their head.)
I will use my rain water to water my garden.  And if it doesn't rain, I will just invite my jolliest friends over and we will shout down the rain barrel.  Either way, I see only good things ahead. 
Forever more more more more.

She Got Up Off The Couch

But she did not return to C25K week 4.  Instead she went to work at the IBHCF.  And she took this picture to share with you.  Because it is quite colorful and extremely lab-like. 

And when she came home from work, she mostly got back on the couch.  Because she forgot how early she has to get up to work in the lab.  Next week its back to the bank.  She will be ready. 

The STPs Dreams Come True

The STP had a dream.  In his dream everyone in town had a cow.  And all the cows had escaped and were running about the town.  And our cow was little.  Like a dog-size cow.  (Maybe this wasn't exactly the dream--only my recollection of what he told me when we were both half awake/ three quarters asleep.)  I'm no Joseph, but if Pharoah had had this dream it seems like we might be in for a famine year.  Just glad there weren't 7 little cows in the dream. 
Because I am not a fan of starving, and as a service to the STP, I interpreted the dream to mean that just because everyone else had a truck, we didn't really need a truck.   Just a cute little Volvo.  The STP dismissed my dream interpretation as nonsense.  He said it was his dream and leave it alone.  I shared my thought with someone else, who thought maybe the dream meant that we were to have a little truck.  I dismissed that as nonsense.
And alas, here is the little truck that will be our second vehicle.  We do not actually own it yet, we were just 'trying it on' in front of the house.  But by next week we should be the proud owners of a pick-up.   It only took the STP two years to get a truck.  I'm thinking a cowboy hat can't be far behind.  I love being married to a dreamer.

A Tree Does Not Grow in Dodge City

This is the first tree we planted in our Dodge City yard.  It is an evergreen, in case you could not tell.  We deliberated for some time about where to plant it.  We didn't want it to block the view when we were pulling out of the driveway.  (We are nothing if not forward thinkers.)  The STP brought this tree home from somewhere.  It was like a prize and he loved it.  And he faithfully watered it.  And we never mowed it over.  It is dead.   It has been dead for almost a year.   We continue to mow around it.  Just in case.

You might remember this next tree.  We bought it from the not-quite-a-stuffmart grand opening last Spring.  You can see what it looked like when we brought it home.  We were so hopeful.  We planted it strategically to provide us some privacy when we sat on the porch swing. (If you google map street view our house you can see what it looked like last fall when it still had leaves.)  It did not get any leaves this Spring.  I am pretty sure it is dead.  The STP thinks it is a slow starter.  He thinks it will get leaves.  He continues to water it.  His picture is in the dictionary under optimist. 

This little gem is a red wood something I can't remember right now.  It came highly recommended for this climate and offers year round beauty because it has that awesome red bark which adds interest to my winter landscape.  Princess Amidala and I purchased it in the Fall.  We could hardly contain our excitement. I planted it where it would hide the vent pipes on the side of the house.  (You can not see the vent pipes in this picture because they are about three feet above the top of the plant.)   It certainly added interest through the winter, but it has failed to show any signs of life this Spring.  The STP is not highly invested in this one, but I'm going to leave it in the ground a little longer.    

When I first moved to Wyoming, I wondered why they didn't plant anything here.  Now I know. 

Saturday I am going to plant some more things.  Never give up.  Never surrender.

C25K2C

Week 4 day 2.  Didn't feel too bad during my run, but have tremendous hip pain right now.  I am going back to the couch with my heating pad.  Hopefully I can move in the morning.  I think the STP's favorite Revelation verse may apply.

This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness

on the part of the saints.  Rev. 13:10

Or maybe the one about not loving your life so much as to shrink from death.  By morning death may look pretty good. 
Don't give up now good running buddies.  We can do this.  We can do this.  We can do this.

A Chili-ng Tale

Yesterday I made a big crock pot full of chili for todays' fellowship dinner.  And a bowl of green jello with fruit cocktail.  I did not spill a drop of the jello.  But as I was making my last trip to the car this morning with the crock pot in two hands, and my purse over my shoulder, the handle on the crock pot fell off and the entire crockpot crashed to the floor and spilled and splashed as only two gallons of tomato based greasy sauce full of lumps and beans can spill and splash.  Like two feet up on two separate white walls.  And all over the floor, and my shoes and splatters up to my knees. And beans that rolled all the way under the couch.  And then I set my purse down in it.
So I did what any self respecting PW would do in this situation.  I posted it on FaceBook.
(The Queen of Queens expressed surprise that so many of my FB friends could relate to spilling a crock pot full of fellowship dinner chili on a Sunday morning.  Because the devil can still disrupt her Sunday morning with a poopy diaper, or a projectile vomiting child.  Once you move out of this phase of your life, the devil uses dropped casseroles and misplaced car keys to make you late and irritable.  The Queen will learn this.  There is no need to tell her.)  
And then I took my camera out of my purse to get a picture.  Because it was picture worthy and I wanted to share it with you. 

Right here is where I would put the picture. 

But when I turned my camera on it politely asked me to charge the battery.  Because that's the kind of day the devil wanted me to have.  But I had just read and posted about how God is not afraid of a mess.  So even though it wasn't my plan to clean up chili, I embraced rose to accepted the challenge, counted to 2 and 1/2, and scooped and scraped and scrubbed.  I scooped the top portion into a smaller casserole (oh, yes, I did!)  because I applied the 3 second rule and it never really hit the floor and even though I wouldn't feed chili off the floor to the general public, I am not above serving it to the STP.  And then I scraped the majority of the wonderful smelling chili into the garbage can.  (The smell was one advantage cleaning up chili had over cleaning up projectile vomit.)  And then, just as I was almost done scrubbing, I backed into the garbage can and spilled the chili in the other direction and down one more wall.  And then God and I laughed together, and I said, "Not today!" to the devil and I went to church and worshipped.  And the jello was a hit at fellowship dinner. 
All in all, it was a very good day.

THE END

Messy Me

From the book "My Bangs Look Good & Other Lies I Tell Myself":  Pg 49

"God does not seem to be afraid of a mess.  He is perfectly comfortable in a stable or on a lonely road or in a scandalous situation, because he knows it is not the end of the story.  God has good plans for us tired supergirls.  They may not be easy or neat or fit into our cyber calendar, but they bring life and clarity and love and truth into the the world in which we live.  And I don't know about you, but I want in on his plan.  Even if it's messy."