Playing Hard Rock

I am in the process of gathering materials for my back yard patio.  So far I have a pile of bricks.  And some shale.  And, as of this morning, a pile of rocks.  I think I am ready to start, although I don't have a really clear plan yet.  The STP suggested that I trace the rocks onto cardboard and arrange and rearrange them until I decide where each rock should go.  Then he will move the rocks just once into the place they will stay.  I so wanted to do this today instead of going to work.  I wanted to call off.  My rock hunting and hauling friend suggested this excuse: 
I won't be in today because I can't see. 
That's right.  I just can't see.
...I just can't see myself coming in to work today.

Online Window Shopping

Things I am going to buy with my first paycheck from my new job:
1.  skelemingoes

No Time for Thinking

I wasn't sure I was ready for the Goob to get his permit.  I wasn't sure if the Goob was ready.  Turns out the STP and the Goob were on the same page about this.  About a novel and a half ahead of me.  So yesterday they went to the DOT and got an instructional driving permit.  And then the Goob drove home. 

Go, Goob, go. 

There was a time when the Goob did not try new things.  When riding a bike was a lose-lose proposition.  (You lose your balance-you lose your skin).  There was an accident that made him unsure if riding in car was a good idea.  But here he is today.  Driving a car.  Evidently, he is ready. 

I'm still not sure I am ready.

Resign Yourself to This

I don't work at Dodge City Federal Savings and Loan any more.  My banking career came to an end last Friday.  So you will have to look for a new source of state quarters and financial advice and information.  (The other day I saw Glenn Beck was talking about The Bailey Bros. Savings and Loan and Mr. Potter.  Scary, huh?)  And I had to turn in my key to the bank along with my resignation. So as my last hurrah as a 'teller' here a few things I'd like to 'tell' you:
1.If you don't know the teller, the teller probably doesn't know you.  No matter how long you've had an account at the Savings and Loan.  Just show your ID without whining and sighing.
2.The teller does not have your account number memorized.  If she has to look it up, your transaction will take longer.  This is your fault, not hers.
3.The drive through is meant for you to drive through.  Not to park in and talk on your cellphone. 
4.The teller can not read your mind through the pneumatic tube. If you want to deposit the check, you will have to mention that. And it would be helpful if you had your account number.
5.The way to get money out of your checking account is to write a check.  Why is this difficult?
6.If you don't have money in the bank to cover your check, your check will be non-sufficient.  There is a charge for this.  The charge is going up.  The teller does not set the fees.  She does not pocket them.
7.Tellers do not make a lot of money.  Their wardrobe is deceiving.
Just telling like it is...
Hope I remember these things when I go to do my banking this week.

The Bunny, the Bunny, Oh I Love the Bunny

The bunny cake is a good indicator in our house of how much you are loved.  I didn't know this until the Goob pointed it out in a self-pity fit several years ago.  But evidently it is the kind of thing children keep track of.  In the same category and inversely proportional to who always gets the chipped plate.  As the mom, I never even knew there was a chipped plate, and I truly never kept track of who got a bunny cake for their birthday. This year the Goob's birthday coincided with Easter Sunday.  So I made him a bunny cake.  A bunny cake with peanut butter icing.  Just so there isn't any doubt as to which of my children living at home I love the most.

Although, I don't think the bunny cake was designed to be a birthday cake for 15 year olds.  In one quick slice the very cute bunny evolved into a scary rabid pac-man rabbit (with jelly bean fangs).

And before you could say, "Make a wish" it had become a fire-breathing rabid rabbit.

The Goob is now old enough to get his driving permit.  The next time the Goob's birthday and Easter fall on the same day will be in the year 2095.  The Goob will be 99 years old.  Will he still have his driver's license?  Hopefully he will have someone who loves him enough to make him a bunny cake.  And help him blow out the candles.

Love you, Goob.  Happy Birthday!

The SFG-Year Two

I tilled up the SFG this afternoon--by hand.  I mean, I used a shovel, but no rototillers or tractors were needed.  It took me about two minutes.  Then I raked it smooth.  And in about three minutes total it was ready to go.  I planted my first crop of French lettuce (Oo La La!!) and put in an entire square foot of onion sets.  I watered them from the rain barrel.   Then I had a glass of iced tea.  And now I just wait for the danger of frost to pass.   

Colored Eggs

Early in the week I had some question about whether we would color eggs. But we stopped into the StuffMart after our kaleidoscope appointments, and habit dictated that I get eggs and the STP picked out two egg dyeing kits. So today we hard boiled two dozen eggs and set out to color them.

 The STP chose a tie dye kit (because he is a child of the sixties) and a majestic kit (because he can't get enough of the royal wedding).  Neither kit involved vinegar or cups of hot water.  Instead we put drops of color directly onto the egg

and then put the egg in a bag

and then smooshed the color around on the egg

and repeated the process until the egg was covered.

We found the majestic egg process to be similar but it was kind of like smearing hard boiled eggs with nail polish.

Oh, wait.  That is the picture on the box.

Our majestic eggs were significantly less majestic.  (I don't think Kate or William would be impressed.)

The STP called them anemic. 

We switched back to the tie dye dyes.  The Goob attempted to make an Oscar egg, and while the egg in the bag had great potential

 the end product was more classy than hideous.

Regrettably, we forgot(!) to make any magic eggs.

It was a very calm, no mess, no drama egg dying time at our house this year.  Which makes me think that, if I had it to do over again, I might have dyed the Easter eggs after the kids were in bed or while they were in school.  Because it is much easier to dye eggs without any children in the room.

But, really, where is the magic in that?

(Totally missing my girls and hoping Grandma Mary knows how blessed she is today.)

It's So Easy Being Green

My dad was ecology minded way before it was politically correct.  He reused, reduced, and recycled to the extreme. (That is to the extreme embarrassment of his oldest daughter.)  He used the same paper lunch bag until it was limp. He expected me to do the same.  I 'accidently' threw my lunch bag away every other day. And I determined I would not grow up to be so weird cheap eccentric environmentally friendly.
Imagine my surprise to discover how 'green' I have become. 
I have a compost pile and a rain barrel.
Our lawn mower does not have an engine.
We recycle glass, plastic, aluminum, and newspapers.
I washed my windows with microfiber cloths and a bucket of water--no chemicals.
I wash and reuse ziploc bags.
I walked to work today and sometimes we ride our bikes to get from place to place.
I say things like 'reducing my carbon footprint'.
The Goob has a reusable lunchbag and he brings it home every day.
Happy Earth Day, Dad.  I love you.

Always a Padawan, Never a Jedi

Just wanted to remember that line.  Someday I will use it.  (I can't think when it will ever be appropriate, but if it ever is, I'll be ready.  I hope Uncle M will be in the room if/when the time comes.)
Speaking of Star War references, I was thinking that when the disciples took the donkey colt for Jesus to ride into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday it must have been kind of a jedi moment. 
"The Lord has need of it." 
Say it with the same intonation as "These are not the droids you are looking for." 
And wave your hands around like you are some kind of jedi. 
Now imagine it being followed by "You want to go home and rethink your life."
Now there's some advice for Holy Week. 
Besides staying home and rethinking our lives we will be coloring eggs, baking ham, and celebrating the Goob's birthday with a bunny cake. 

About My Day

Things I did:
Made peanut butter icing
Iced cupcakes for the bakesale
Attended my colonoscopy consult
Scheduled my colonoscopy
Shopped at WalMart
Bought a jicama
Ate a half reuben sandwich
Slept in the car
Talked to Amidala on the phone
Used call waiting (successfully) on my cellphone
Made an appointment for a haircut
Planted scavenged rhubarb plants
Things you might want to know:
The season finale of Parenthood (my favorite TV show) was last night.
I will start a new job in May
I signed a release to allow photographs and/or videotaping of my kaleidoscope.
(My spell checker does not recognize 'colonoscopy' and suggests 'kaleidoscope' or 'cloudscape'.  Therefore, I will now refer to my colonoscopy as my kaleidoscope instead.)   
The STP will have his own kaleidoscope.

That pretty much brings us up to date.  Hope your day does not involve a kaleidoscope.

The Anti-Bakesale

Here is my next good idea.  The anti-bakesale as a fundraising function.  First you have a bakesale so that everyone knows how it works.  Then you have the anti-bakesale.  In which every parent and board member just donates the money that they would spend on ingredients.  And then they add in a bonus for the time they do not have to spend baking and wrapping the anti-bakesale items.  And then just a little more for the privilege of not having to clean up the kitchen and transport cupcakes.  My guess is that the anti-bakesale would be just as, if not more than, successful as the real bakesale. 
And then, for those social types who like to sit at a table and solicit donations from passersby, they can set up a table with small paper plates and empty cupcake papers.  And passersby can make donations based on the number of calories they are not consuming.  Anti-cookies would be $1.35 because you are not eating 135 calories you do not need just to support a good cause.  I'm thinking that an anti-loaf of banana nut bread might go for $15.00.  And you can run the anti-bakesale for several days in a row, or every other Monday, because anti-baked goods don't get stale or grow mold. 
Genius.  And I'm just giving this idea away for free. 

Rain Barrel Update

Contrary to the weather forecast the sun is shining this morning.  And the rain barrel is almost two thirds full.

Springing Up

It's nothing compared to what has already sprung at Amidala's house, but it is, I believe, the beginning of a daffodil.  Just a reminder that Spring will come, even if tomorrow's forecast is for snow showers. 

Also, I took my bucket on a road trip yesterday and brought home some rhubarb plants.  And I think my yellow lilac may bloom this year.  And the clematis has new growth.  And all the flamingos are back in the flower bed.  And I have a gift certificate to Northern Gardens Garden Center.  Oh, life is good.

A Tale of the Garden Stones

Once upon a time, there was a mother.  Who had four children.  Four wonderful children.  The oldest child no longer lived at home.  The mother missed her very much and realized in a panic that the other children would also leave home and she had not done everything she wanted to do with them.  There were still a few life skills she had not taught them.  Like how to balance their checkbooks, bait their own fish hooks, and make garden stones.

 So on Memorial Day afternoon, she set out to make some memories.  And some garden stones.  She made the first one.  See, she said, you can use shells, and rocks, and broken pottery.  And any design you want.

Oh, I see, said the second child.  She used all natural elements.  She made a little butterfly bath in the center.  She grew up, moved out of her mother's house and became a mother herself.  She eats organic food and spends her afternoons doing craft projects with her own wonderful children.

Oh, I see, said the third child.  She carefully chose and arranged all her elements to make a cohesively designed picture.  She grew up and moved out of her mother's house and became an engineer.  She spends her afternoons drawing designs for plantings along highways, and her evenings doing craft projects.

Oh, I see, said the fourth child.  He made a weird face and a heart.  (And carved his name into the stone just in case his mother got old and forgot which stone was his.)  He has yet to grow up or move out of his mother's house.  This afternoon he made a weird face when she suggested he move off the couch.  She still loves him with all her heart.




Who knew garden stones could be so prophetic?

Best Mulch Shop Ever

What the STP said:  Goob, I am taking your mother to the mulch shop.
What the Goob heard:   Blah, blah, blah, malt shop. 
Sorry, Goob.  This is a trip to the buy mulch.  But it is almost as good as the malt shop in the degree of happy it makes me.  And it has fewer calories.

The first thing you have to do at the mulch shop is choose your flavor.  Some of the choices were Cypress, Western, and Cedar.  Bark, chips or mulch.  We chose Premium Cedar Mulch.  We actually chose it three summers ago, so the choice now is easy.  Because I'm mulching my way around the house and I want all my mulch to match. 

When you go to the mulch shop it is good to go with someone who loves you enough to load your mulch.  And it is especially nice if said someone owns a truck.  If you look just to the left of the STPs ear you can see my little brown roof.  (To the left of the STP's right ear.  Look closely.)  If you can't live across the street from a malt shop, it is good to live close to the mulch shop. 

This is the east flower bed--the before picture. 

And this is the after picture. Even though this is a new bed there are a few things already in it besides the mulch. 

There are two clumps of peonies.  A gift from the former Pastor's wife.  I know these don't look like much right now, but the promise of peonies is enough to excite my little gardening heart today.

And four clumps of hostas.  A gift from the head teller at Dodge City Federal S&L.  I like to buy perennials but I think it is a lot more fun to scavenge them.  (If you have any coralbells, hostas, lilacs, peonies, etc. that need scavenged, just give me a call.  I'll bring my own bucket and shovel.)

I also moved the garden stones to the east bed.  We made these many years ago and I moved them  in the now infamous truck across the country from my last flower beds.  I get more nostalgic about them the older  I  they get.   I've decided they deserve their own post.  Stay tuned.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years in Twenty Four Hours

My mom discouraged my reading.  Because when I read, I didn't do anything else.  I learned my default parenting skills from my mom.  Once I  grounded my daughter for reading after she was supposed to be in bed.  I'm happy to report that she lived.  (We all have scars from our childhood.  They give us something to talk to our siblings about at family get-togethers.)

My resolution to read 2 books a month is going very well.  Obviously, the key to resolutions is to resolve to do something you love.  In fact, I have had to edit the resolution to limit the number of books I can read to two a month.  I am done with April. 

Yesterday the STP got two new books from Amazon.com.   I picked up one called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years : What I Learned While Editing My Life. By Donald Miller.   And I opened it and I read a few chapters.  And then this morning I picked it back up and sat down with a dog in my lap and finished it before the mail came.  It isn't really a story book as much as a book about story.  I earmarked 6 pages. Here are my highlights:

If I have a hope, it's that God sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me into the story, and put us in with the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, Enjoy your place in my story.  The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it as I have created you. p 59

AND

...great stories go to those who do not give in to fear....fear isn't only a guide to keep us safe;  it's also a manipulative emotion that can trick us into living a boring life.  p 108

AND

A good movie has memorable scenes, and so does a good life.

AND

It's interesting that in the Bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes, the only practical advice given about living a meaningful life is to find a job, enjoy your marriage, and obey God.  It's as God is saying, Write a good story, take someone with you, and let Me help.  pp 246-247

I'm going to go ahead and get my kayak.  Like my daughter says, "We will either have a good time or a good story."  And sometimes we would rather have the story.

To Everything (Turn! Turn! Turn!)

Just finished reading "The Four Seasons" by Mary Alice Monroe.  I did not enjoy it as much as her fly fishing love story of  "Time is a River".  Maybe because it billed itself as 'a moving novel about the special friendship between sisters', I expected that I might relate to a story about 4 sisters.  But it was a stretch.  Because none of my sisters are dead.  And I am not a European supermodel.  We didn't nearly drown my baby sister when I was 13(although I once almost let my baby brother get run over by a car...but this isn't about my confessions).  None of my sisters has an illegitimate child that our mother forbade us to talk about.  And none of my children were fathered by any of my sister's husbands. 
Unless we are better at keeping family secrets than I ever imagined.

That's 7/24, for those who are counting.

My Friend the Game Warden

I'd just like to recommend that you get a game warden for a friend.  The game warden was one of the first people I met when I moved here.  You may recall (because you remember everything I ever tell you) that I had tea at his house before I even moved.  And that he takes his game very seriously.  And that he sometimes brings his work home. 
Well, this morning when I was visiting the game warden's wife (who will be known here from now on as the GWW) I witnessed the game warden at his kitchen table feeding a baby squirrel with an eye dropper.  And speaking 'squirrel' to the baby squirrel (who is named Pipsqueak).  And I had my camera with me and I so wanted to take a picture for you, but it just seemed a little blog crazy, but of course now I regret not getting a picture and I would like to go back for the next feeding and take a picture.  (Imagine Kronk--squeak, squeak, squeak, squeaker, squeaken**)   And I would take a picture of the GWW holding the squirrel, and one of it's little laundry basket bed complete with a heating pad, because the GWW is the kind of women who will make a little bed for a baby squirrel in her living room.  And I would take a picture of the GWD (game warden's dog) sitting at the kitchen table while the baby squirrel sits on the kitchen table.
I asked the STP if game wardens are federal employees.  Because I had this panic moment (because I don't have enough other things to occupy my mind) where I thought maybe they would be deemed 'non-essential' by someone in Washington.  And then who would feed the squirrel?

**You owe me a new acorn

Getting Ahead Cold

Today was the day I was going to do a few things I've been saving for a day off.  Instead I never got dressed and I barely changed loads of laundry that I had started last evening.  I took two Day-quil equivalents at lunch time and I spent the entire afternoon on the couch.  What would Ny-quil do to me?  And why are cold medications so complicated?  Runny nose and itchy eyes.   Fever and cough suppressant.  My favorite:  cough suppressant and expectorant.  How exactly does that work?  So far all I have is nasal congestion.  And various side effects from my meds.  If I manage to breath through the night, tomorrow I am going to try Kleenex.

She Wore the Dress and I Stayed Home

Sisters, Sisters.  I am planning to get together with my sisters this year.  And I am having as much fun planning as we might have when we are together.  I think we could spend a few days scouring for treasures at The World's Longest Yardsale.  Or we could do a fly fishing trip near my sister's house in Cattaraugus County.  Or soak up the sun at my other sister's yet to be acquired beach house.  And then I saw this great idea a little closer to my house.  Families, wildflowers, and llamas in the Wyoming wilderness.  Do you think for our $1000 we each get a wrangler, or will we have to share? 

If I Could Put Thyme in a Bag

This morning I got up to go to zumba.  I wasn't able to go all last week because of my work schedule.  So this morning I got up when the alarm clock said it was 5:20.  But when I got upstairs the clocks said 4:25.  My alarm clock resets itself for Daylight Savings Time. And it decides when DST starts based on some archaic formula preprogrammed into the clock.  So evidently it decided DST should start today. 

So I went back to bed and got up again 10 minutes after the alarm went off at 6:15, which was really 5:25.  And I got ready and went to zumba.  But when I got there I was the only one there.  Evidently class was cancelled or moved and I didn't get the memo.  So I walked around the block and then back home.  And I went back to bed until 7:45. 

An unusual start to my day.  After that it was pretty uneventful.

I hope to only go to bed once tonight.

Perspective

Three workshops
Two workshop times.
This morning I thought I had to pick two of the three workshops instead of just one.  Then my roommate with a more positive attitude said we had only two opportunities to choose between three workshops. 
I wish positive attitudes were as contagious as negative ones.
I'm going to try and hang out with her all day.

Best Malt Shop Ever

Sometimes you need to travel with a local to find the best places.  I have been through Shoshoni multiple times.  I've spied out the fudge shop.  But I never even knew the best Malt Shop was right there. 

I think it might have been there forever.   They have enough toppings to make choosing your malt flavor an adventure in and of itself.  I chose chocolate peanut butter.  Sometimes I make really good choices.

I'm thinking that my chocolate peanut butter malt rated right up there with teaberry ice cream from the Clearfield Dairy or anything at all from the Creamery at Penn State.  A great start to ladies' retreat weekend. 

And you know we have to drive right by the malt shop on our way back home.