Well hello there! I've been very remiss in my blog duties this year - I blame my job. I've been having to work of all things. (Oh - I kid. Really. Mostly.)
Anyhoo - life in Hicksville has been hot and dry this year. We're in the midst of an extreme drought of Dustbowl preportions - complete with the appearance of haboobs. I think we have had a grand total of maybe an inch of rain since January, which has stressed my garden to no end.
This year, we decided to attempt growing potatoes and onions - you know - root vegetables that are 90% WATER. Yeah - not the greatest idea, but to be perfectly honest they're growing better than nearly anything else in the garden. Certainly better than my corn and green beans and black-eyed peas. Those have been plagued with being planted a bit too deep and not coming up (my fault), evil grackles coming along and pecking the seeds out of the ground when they weren't planted deep enough (evil birds' fault) and windburned because my heavens - the wind - it won't stop blowing. So I'm not very optimistic that I'm going to have much of a corn crop this year. Heck - at this point I doubt I'll be able to even can much in the way of green beans and black eyed peas. I think we'll have enough for meals once they start producing, but canning? Not so much.
None of my cucumbers came up. Neither did the cantaloupe, the honeydew, the squash or pumpkins. One watermelon that we intentionally planted came up. Luckily, we have volunteer squash and cantaloupe coming up by the corn & beans, and volunteer watermelon everywhere. But I was really hoping to make pickles this year. Hmph.
But hey! I have 102 onions growing, and 34 potato plants. If I can get at least a couple of pounds of taters out of each tater plant, I'll be happy. We decided to mulch around the tomatoes and peppers this year, using a thick layer of newspapers covered with landscape fabric, and we already have little green tomatoes. I attempted yet again to grow tomatoes from seed as well, and so far have around 12 that have survived and are just about ready to be planted and covered with a milk jug until they're big enough to survive the desert on their own. Unfortunately, the wind got my peppers. That makes me very sad.
This year, we also applied something called BiotaMax to the garden. An old buddy of mine from high school has a company that came up with it, and when he heard me blathering on about gardening on Facebook, he sent me a sample. I can't help but wonder if that's why my tomatoes are doing as well as they are in all this heat and wind, but it's too early to tell. Apparently it doesn't ward off those damn grackles. We applied it to half of the new strawberry plants we put in this year to see if we could compare. I'll show pictures at the end of the summer and let everyone judge for themselves if it made any difference. Right now, the strawberries are struggling to survive in this heat. Today it's only going to be in the mid to upper 90's. Tomorrow - back to the 100's for the foreseeable future. I like summer and I like the heat, but dang - I'm dreading July!
Now for the chicken update - one of the banty hens was setting for awhile, but apparently we messed with her eggs one too many times, so she up and said 'pfft' and that was that. No baby chicks this year. Although our bedraggled Rhode Island Red went broody on us this weekend. Poor darlin' - we don't have any full sized roosters, so she's sitting for naught. The hubs is supposed to be tracking down some fertilized full size eggs for her to set on, but hasn't located any just yet. I hope we can find some - I love baby chicks!
The boys are enjoying summer so far - sleepin' til noon, then playing video games all day. I can't really blame them - it's too hot to work outside by the time they get up, and it's not cooling off until 8 or 9 pm at night. E has his first job not working for a relative this summer - he's a sacker at a grocery store in Mid-Size City and loving not having to ask mom and dad for money all the time. (Mom and Dad are enjoying that just as much!) E still struggles with being accepted out here and right now the other boys are still boys. I'm not sure when teenage boys grow out of being little turds and embracing the mob mentality, but apparently it's not the summer after junior year. *sigh* Luckily J has embraced the "whatever dude - who cares what you think about me?" attitude and doesn't seem to be bothered by the mob. I'm hoping E does the same soon. He's such a smart, witty kid. Too bad the mob doesn't have the maturity to get that.
As for me and the hubs, we are slowly learning to adjust to life with boys that are fixin to be men. While we enjoy being able to do more without having to track down babysitters, I have to admit missing all the time we used to spend together as a family. Thanks to his work, poor E wasn't able to go with us to see the 1st three blockbusters of the summer movie season - and who knows when he'll be able to? We're lucky if we get a couple of dinners together as a family every week between E's job, and summer workouts and just life in general. And J is about to start driver's ed. I know it's just part of the season of our lives right now, but I still struggle with having to let them go.
Darn kids - who said they could grow up?
Ramblings of a mom and wife that just moved from a little city to a teeny town, and is currently in the process of battling ovarian cancer.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Finding Home
Last night the wind finally died down enough that I was able to plant 2 rows of yukon gold seed potatoes, 3 rows of red pontiac seed potatoes, and umpteen onions - red, yellow and white. First things in the garden - and the official full start of gardening season. From now on, I will spend my evenings and weekends in the garden and in the yard - weeding, mulching, watering, and eventually - harvesting.
Some might look at that as drudgery. For me - it's necessary. I need that time every day to work outside in my garden and yard. From cutting asparagus each evening to pulling weeds to watering my peas - it's how I find my peace and balance each day. I do my best thinking and pondering while working in the garden, and I love seeing perennials come back each year, and the progress my yards and my garden makes from year to year. Seeing the fruit of my labor so to speak - it helps with that feeling so many of us have. The one where we feel like we're doing the same thing over and over and not accomplishing anything.
I see what I've accomplished. What my family has accomplished. I see it in the landscaping, in the spread of the oregano and thyme, the blooms of the strawberries ....
(The monstrous size of the little 6 inch rosemary plant that is now 4 feet tall - and at least as wide. After just 3 years. Sometimes nature surprises us.)
When we bought this property, it was a field. We've added a house, a barn, a garage, a wellhouse, a chicken coop, trees for shade, trees for windbreaks, trees for fruit, and berry bushes. We gave ourselves the means to feed ourselves for a good part of the year - with healthier, fresher food. I haven't bought eggs in over a year. I don't buy hot sauce anymore (because mine is SO much better y'all - you have no idea.) Thanks to the aforementioned monster rosemary bush, I'll never have to buy that again either. My hope is to not have to buy oregano, thyme or sage again, and to raise enough veggies to not have to buy canned goods over the winter. It's an ambitious goal - but one we're hoping to accomplish.
Even if we only raise enough for half of winter - that's less gas we'll use driving to town to buy that stuff. And I guarantee it will taste better than anything store bought.
We started with a field. Now we have a home. And even if life in Hicksville isn't the idyllic community we hoped for when we moved out here - I wouldn't trade it for anything.
(Oh! I almost forgot. One of the banty's is setting - we should have baby chicks in a few weeks. There is nothing as cute as baby chicks. Will try to get pictures when they arrive.)
Some might look at that as drudgery. For me - it's necessary. I need that time every day to work outside in my garden and yard. From cutting asparagus each evening to pulling weeds to watering my peas - it's how I find my peace and balance each day. I do my best thinking and pondering while working in the garden, and I love seeing perennials come back each year, and the progress my yards and my garden makes from year to year. Seeing the fruit of my labor so to speak - it helps with that feeling so many of us have. The one where we feel like we're doing the same thing over and over and not accomplishing anything.
I see what I've accomplished. What my family has accomplished. I see it in the landscaping, in the spread of the oregano and thyme, the blooms of the strawberries ....
(The monstrous size of the little 6 inch rosemary plant that is now 4 feet tall - and at least as wide. After just 3 years. Sometimes nature surprises us.)
When we bought this property, it was a field. We've added a house, a barn, a garage, a wellhouse, a chicken coop, trees for shade, trees for windbreaks, trees for fruit, and berry bushes. We gave ourselves the means to feed ourselves for a good part of the year - with healthier, fresher food. I haven't bought eggs in over a year. I don't buy hot sauce anymore (because mine is SO much better y'all - you have no idea.) Thanks to the aforementioned monster rosemary bush, I'll never have to buy that again either. My hope is to not have to buy oregano, thyme or sage again, and to raise enough veggies to not have to buy canned goods over the winter. It's an ambitious goal - but one we're hoping to accomplish.
Even if we only raise enough for half of winter - that's less gas we'll use driving to town to buy that stuff. And I guarantee it will taste better than anything store bought.
We started with a field. Now we have a home. And even if life in Hicksville isn't the idyllic community we hoped for when we moved out here - I wouldn't trade it for anything.
(Oh! I almost forgot. One of the banty's is setting - we should have baby chicks in a few weeks. There is nothing as cute as baby chicks. Will try to get pictures when they arrive.)
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Huh. August 09?
I'm not sure how that happened. Surely it really hasn't been that long since I blogged? But I guess it has. About that time is when I got a new boss, and the next year and a half was just....ugh. I won't even begin to describe it. But I have a new boss now, and he's awesome, and I'm not just saying that because he had the foresight to hire me here at Mid-Size University 20 years ago either. (Well - not much anyway)
So - what has been going on in Hicksville? About the same. The boys continue to grow up on me - they've finally figured out that they really don't have to continue wearing those bricks on their heads - and that doesn't keep them from growing anyway - darn it all. We still have our chickens, and the gardening season has started.
And oddly enough, Holy Mama!, has given me this:
Now - normally this is given to folks she thinks are versatile bloggers - but when she gave me this, she didn't know I *had* a blog (much less one that as been ignored for lo these many months), and was telling me I needed to start one. Ha! So I'm one up on her. ;-)
Along with being given this cute little thingy (and I refuse to call it an award. Because well - she's not the only one who's weird with complements), I am supposed to list 7 random things about myself, then award this to 15 blogs. 7 random things? THAT'S easy. Picking 15 blogs? That'll be a little more difficult.
So without further ado - 7 random things about me:
1. I've only named our regular sized chickens. We have two of those, and 6 banty chickens, and I refuse to name them. Because we may end up eating them someday. Although, the white leghorn hasn't laid any eggs in a week or so and the hubby is muttering that it's time to have her for dinner. Uh no - you are not. Etta is just on vacation, and I'm sure she'll be laying again in no time. Personally, I think she's sulking because she & Mabel don't have a rooster boyfriend and she knows no rooster boyfriend, no baby chicks, so why bother?
2. I am attempting to grow potatoes this year. M is convinced you can't grow them out here, but I know darn well my grandparents did, so by golly, so can I.
3. I love hockey. I also miss it a great deal. Watching it on TV is not the same as attending 3 games a week in the winter. I long for a chance to cheer at a home town goal, and yell mean things at the ref. They won't let us do that at high school games in Hicksville. All that sportsmanship stuff. Hmph.
4. I love to crunch numbers and gather statistics. It's a weirdness that I've learned to embrace.
5. When pulling weeds and grass out of my garden and flower beds, I think mean thoughts about how I'm killing them. That's how I get out all my aggression these days. Again - I've learned to embrace that weirdness as well.
6. Reading is my consuming passion. And I'll read just about anything. If it weren't for the library and good friends, I'd be broke.
7. My shyness is ridiculous. And sporadic. While at work, I don't have a shy bone in my body. I am in my comfort zone. If you are a visitor to my home, same thing. Put me at someone else's home, around people I don't know? I'm Mysti the Mute.
Now - for the 15 blogs - this says they're supposed to be new to me, so they are listed in order of recent appearance on my Google Reader:
1. WWdN: In Exile Because I'm a closet nerd. And Wil Wheaton's blog is awesome.
2. This Garden Is Illegal Because in case you hadn't noticed, I dig gardening. (get it? Dig gardening? hahahahahahah - I crack myself up.)
3. Tales of a Monkey, a Bit, and a Bean Following Rachel as she has rebuilt her life after losing a child. Truly inspirational.
4. Reflecting, writing and rejoicing I went tohigh school with Shannon back in Washington state, and it's been fun to see how she's turned out.
5. Random Ramblings of a SAHM Lori is coping with life after the loss of her husband.
6. Notes from the Trenches Life with 7 kids!
7. Lifescapes Blog of Susan Wittig Albert, who also lives in Texas. But she's in the Hill Country, which means she has bluebonnets. I am beyond envious this time of year. But not in July when 95 is a cool day.
(Who's idea was it to do *15* blogs? That's alot of blogs!)
8. In the Crease Because I miss hockey. :-(
9. Brian's Corner of the World One of my hockey buddies who moved to San Antonio recently. Bet he has bluebonnets too.
10. Blogs Are Stupid For someone who thinks that, she manages to write some of the most interesting, insightful stuff.
11. Ask Jackie This is the ultimate versatile blog. If you want to know how to do anything - just ask Jackie. She knows. She knows everything!
Ok - I give up. I've run out of people. Does this mean I can't keep my versatile thingy?
(And thanks so much to Kelsey for thinking of me. I promise - I will try to blog more often, and get some pictures of Mabel, Etta and the chickens. Just for her.)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I Need a Moment
We are in a busy season in Hicksville. As well as at work. The garden is producing produce at a manic pace, and I'm trying to keep up with the canning. The one blessing from having been hailed out twice this spring?
The green beans didn't start really producing until this week - when the cucumbers are (hopefully) starting to die back. I cannot imagine trying to can pickles and green beans and blackeyed peas all at the same time.
I'm thinking next year I just might plant beans and peas late on purpose!
When not trying to keep up with the garden and the yard and around the house (and you'll note - I said "trying" - let's not kid anyone. I haven't washed towels in 2 weeks and just used the last washcloth. I'm at a critical laundry point and we simply won't discuss the state of the rest of the house), I'm working extra hours at work in a vain attempt to keep up since we're down a person. Our new graduate students started trickling in last week, and I fully expect a deluge of 'em on Friday. It's also the end of our fiscal year soon, so I'm trying to make sure that funds are spent, and spent properly, and that everything is balancing correctly.
I feel like some days I'm in a whirlwind of activity - of paperwork and pickles, students and laundry and practices and weeding and accounts and phones and memos and beans and chickens and more and more I just want to stand still for a moment and yell
STOP.
Stop - and let me watch as my eldest progresses on his walk to manhood. As he takes the next steps toward being an adult - driving, SATs, college planning, girlfriends, and of course, football. Let me have time to soak in his handsome face - the same one that once upon a time chewed on his tiny fist while scowling at me because he didn't understand why bottles in the hospital were so easy to drink, and nursing was hard. The same face that would light up a room when he saw me - his mom - come in to pick him up at the end of the day. The one that now will casually toss off a "later, crazy lady" and I quietly say to his back - "I love you too, E."
Stop - and let me have a moment to see my youngest take those first few steps of his walk to manhood. As he gets ready from his transition from his last year of junior high to high school next year. Let me soak it all in as he begins to shed childhood - and Yu Gi Oh cards and The Suite Life - in favor Hannah Montana and his iPod. Let me remember his sweet little face as he laughed uproariously whenever he was amused. And let me slowly adjust to his deeper voice, his hairier legs and the new more grownup face he sports these days.
Give me time. It's going by so FAST. I only have a few years left with my boys and I need a moment. A moment as I figure out how to let them go when I so desperately want to just keep them little.
Some time to just....let mom adjust.
The green beans didn't start really producing until this week - when the cucumbers are (hopefully) starting to die back. I cannot imagine trying to can pickles and green beans and blackeyed peas all at the same time.
I'm thinking next year I just might plant beans and peas late on purpose!
When not trying to keep up with the garden and the yard and around the house (and you'll note - I said "trying" - let's not kid anyone. I haven't washed towels in 2 weeks and just used the last washcloth. I'm at a critical laundry point and we simply won't discuss the state of the rest of the house), I'm working extra hours at work in a vain attempt to keep up since we're down a person. Our new graduate students started trickling in last week, and I fully expect a deluge of 'em on Friday. It's also the end of our fiscal year soon, so I'm trying to make sure that funds are spent, and spent properly, and that everything is balancing correctly.
I feel like some days I'm in a whirlwind of activity - of paperwork and pickles, students and laundry and practices and weeding and accounts and phones and memos and beans and chickens and more and more I just want to stand still for a moment and yell
STOP.
Stop - and let me watch as my eldest progresses on his walk to manhood. As he takes the next steps toward being an adult - driving, SATs, college planning, girlfriends, and of course, football. Let me have time to soak in his handsome face - the same one that once upon a time chewed on his tiny fist while scowling at me because he didn't understand why bottles in the hospital were so easy to drink, and nursing was hard. The same face that would light up a room when he saw me - his mom - come in to pick him up at the end of the day. The one that now will casually toss off a "later, crazy lady" and I quietly say to his back - "I love you too, E."
Stop - and let me have a moment to see my youngest take those first few steps of his walk to manhood. As he gets ready from his transition from his last year of junior high to high school next year. Let me soak it all in as he begins to shed childhood - and Yu Gi Oh cards and The Suite Life - in favor Hannah Montana and his iPod. Let me remember his sweet little face as he laughed uproariously whenever he was amused. And let me slowly adjust to his deeper voice, his hairier legs and the new more grownup face he sports these days.
Give me time. It's going by so FAST. I only have a few years left with my boys and I need a moment. A moment as I figure out how to let them go when I so desperately want to just keep them little.
Some time to just....let mom adjust.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
The Cassidy Trifecta
As a child, like so many in the US, I thought the two Davids were just DREAMY. You know which Davids.
and Davy Jones.
That would be the sublime Shaun Cassidy.
David Cassidy
and Davy Jones.
As I grew older, another Cassidy caught my eye.
That would be the sublime Shaun Cassidy.
(oh shut up. I'm telling ya - back when I was 12 - 14, Shaun Cassidy was HAWT.)
Alas, as I grew older, my love for Shaun faded as I met boys my own age that lived in the same town and were all "Dude - why do you have that dork on your walls anyway?"
Pfft. Philistines.
Why all this nostalgia? Because last night I discovered quite by accident that Shaun was not the hottest Cassidy brother after all. No - that title goes to one of his little brothers.
Oy.
Pfft. Philistines.
Why all this nostalgia? Because last night I discovered quite by accident that Shaun was not the hottest Cassidy brother after all. No - that title goes to one of his little brothers.
Oy.
That's Patrick. Take a little David, a little Shaun, toss in a lot of Jack (that would their dad) and dayum.
That's a whole lotta hot for one family.
That's a whole lotta hot for one family.
Monday, August 03, 2009
The Little Garden that Could
So - you remember back in June when our garden was decimated by the evil hail? And that was just the first hailstorm. Two days later - after we re-planted everything - it hailed again. And it was even more devastating that the first hailstorm.
But we Digby's are gluttons for gardening I guess. We just said to ourselves "Selves - time for another trip to the nursery." Then re-planted again. More corn. More beans. More cantaloupe, watermelon, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes and peppers. And you know what?
The garden grew. And grew and grew and holy moly do you know how much yellow squash you get out of 5 well watered bushes?
More than there are unlocked cars in the church parking lot. That I can assure you. (We checked. People in Hicksville are *way* more savvy about squash season than they were in Mid-Size City. Hmph.)
So we have gone from this:
(Please ignore the empty Sonic bags and other crap on my kitchen table)
To this:
Canning season has commenced. As you can see, it made me a little blurry.
Besides cucumbers, we've also harvested our first cabbage and it was quite tasty. I think cabbage will be a new addition on our garden plans from now on. Remember that poor sad asparagus bed? We're *still* getting new asparagus from that patch. We had some last night with supper. I think we only lost one plant in the whole bed.
I love living in the country.
That's from our back porch the other morning. Just behind our new pecan tree is our garden, and beyond that is our property to the telephone poles, then someone else's field, then Hicksville. And no - I didn't enhance the colors with Photoshop. That's just how it looked Saturday morning. Pretty, huh?
We still don't have any tomatoes in the garden. Well - we had 4 on one of the plants, but Mr. Rabbit decided to nibble on them yesterday and he's just damn lucky I didn't catch his furry hide. Hmph. Not sure what the deal is. No one around here is having much luck with maters.
E started two-a-days this morning. Right now he's resting somewhere before the next practice session. He's hoping for varsity this year, but he's just a sophomore. He may have to wait another year. He was ready to play ball this morning though. Tomorrow J starts marching band (and tomorrow night they'll BOTH be at practice - woohoo! Nekkid supper at our house!), and we start winding down the summer. This weekend we are thinking about taking another trip to the lake. We didn't make it during my vacation this year since the hub's truck was in the shop.
The mom-in-law may be coming down to see us around Labor Day. She's is doing very well, and continues to be in complete remission. Such a complete answered prayer there, eh?
My folks will be here the 3rd week of September to hang with the kiddos while the hubs and I strike out for Nebraska to see one of my oldest and dearest friends. I met Gina in 9th grade, and somehow, we have managed to keep in touch - off and on - all of these years. Her beautiful daughter is getting married this fall, and we are using that as an excuse to go see Gina and her husband. It's been 26 years since we've seen each other in person - to say that I am psyched doesn't even begin to cover it! And we will ignore the fact that she is currently skinnier than I am. With any luck, and Weight Watchers, I'll be a bit *less* by the time we get there.
While I'm up there, I'll also get to see one of my oldest and dearest 'net friends. Jen was one of the first persons I met online - it's been close to 13 years now. We've never met in person - so I'm really looking forward to that as well. I've met so few of my "net" friends over the years.
Work continues to be crazy, but somewhat better. I had hopes for a smooth Fall transition this year - until last Monday when my receptionist turned in her notice. *sigh* Something about getting paid $900 more a month. Sheesh - some people are just so *material*. So - once again - I'm on a the hunt for a new girl. Wish me luck.
I would probably be horribly stressed if I didn't have this to come home to:
Makes it all easier somehow.
But we Digby's are gluttons for gardening I guess. We just said to ourselves "Selves - time for another trip to the nursery." Then re-planted again. More corn. More beans. More cantaloupe, watermelon, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes and peppers. And you know what?
The garden grew. And grew and grew and holy moly do you know how much yellow squash you get out of 5 well watered bushes?
More than there are unlocked cars in the church parking lot. That I can assure you. (We checked. People in Hicksville are *way* more savvy about squash season than they were in Mid-Size City. Hmph.)
So we have gone from this:
(Please ignore the empty Sonic bags and other crap on my kitchen table)
To this:
Canning season has commenced. As you can see, it made me a little blurry.Besides cucumbers, we've also harvested our first cabbage and it was quite tasty. I think cabbage will be a new addition on our garden plans from now on. Remember that poor sad asparagus bed? We're *still* getting new asparagus from that patch. We had some last night with supper. I think we only lost one plant in the whole bed.
I love living in the country.
That's from our back porch the other morning. Just behind our new pecan tree is our garden, and beyond that is our property to the telephone poles, then someone else's field, then Hicksville. And no - I didn't enhance the colors with Photoshop. That's just how it looked Saturday morning. Pretty, huh?We still don't have any tomatoes in the garden. Well - we had 4 on one of the plants, but Mr. Rabbit decided to nibble on them yesterday and he's just damn lucky I didn't catch his furry hide. Hmph. Not sure what the deal is. No one around here is having much luck with maters.
E started two-a-days this morning. Right now he's resting somewhere before the next practice session. He's hoping for varsity this year, but he's just a sophomore. He may have to wait another year. He was ready to play ball this morning though. Tomorrow J starts marching band (and tomorrow night they'll BOTH be at practice - woohoo! Nekkid supper at our house!), and we start winding down the summer. This weekend we are thinking about taking another trip to the lake. We didn't make it during my vacation this year since the hub's truck was in the shop.
The mom-in-law may be coming down to see us around Labor Day. She's is doing very well, and continues to be in complete remission. Such a complete answered prayer there, eh?
My folks will be here the 3rd week of September to hang with the kiddos while the hubs and I strike out for Nebraska to see one of my oldest and dearest friends. I met Gina in 9th grade, and somehow, we have managed to keep in touch - off and on - all of these years. Her beautiful daughter is getting married this fall, and we are using that as an excuse to go see Gina and her husband. It's been 26 years since we've seen each other in person - to say that I am psyched doesn't even begin to cover it! And we will ignore the fact that she is currently skinnier than I am. With any luck, and Weight Watchers, I'll be a bit *less* by the time we get there.
While I'm up there, I'll also get to see one of my oldest and dearest 'net friends. Jen was one of the first persons I met online - it's been close to 13 years now. We've never met in person - so I'm really looking forward to that as well. I've met so few of my "net" friends over the years.
Work continues to be crazy, but somewhat better. I had hopes for a smooth Fall transition this year - until last Monday when my receptionist turned in her notice. *sigh* Something about getting paid $900 more a month. Sheesh - some people are just so *material*. So - once again - I'm on a the hunt for a new girl. Wish me luck.
I would probably be horribly stressed if I didn't have this to come home to:
Makes it all easier somehow.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Memories of Water
We spent the weekend at the lake. It's odd how someone who spent most of her life in a semi-arid region of the nation has so many lakes in my memories.
One of my first memories is of the 4th of July was seeing the fireworks show at Buffalo Springs Lake as a little girl. I remember spending the day there, in the heat, and sand, with my family and my grandparents. We had a picnic lunch of some kind and after a day of swimming and eating and playing, there was the cool that only comes after the sun goes down around here. I remember how the breeze felt soft as silk on my skin - and the huge beautiful fireworks overhead.
Later we often went down to Lake Brownwood in the summers. My grandparents on my mom's side would go down there to go fishing, and we would go down and camp for a few days. Unlike Buffalo Springs Lake, Lake Brownwood had the muggy heat that I tend to normally associate with lakes. Surrounded by live oak and mesquite, I remember walking along the beach, finding "sea shells" that were really the shells of lake mussels in all sizes. Teeny tiny ones that were smaller than even the end of my little girl fingers, and the big thrill was finding one bigger than my entire hand. Riding on the boat, fishing with Granma and Granpa, and Mr. Pibb.
Because back then, you could only find Mr. Pibb in South Texas.
Between my 7th & 8th grade years, we went on the road with my dad. He was working on a power plant near St. Johns, AZ and the first couple months of summer, we camped out at Lake Lymon State Park. We swam everyday, climbed to the top of the little mesa near the swimming hole and looked at petroglyphs, and at 3 pm everyday, headed to the tent, because that's when it rained.
The following summer took us to Washington State. We lived in a little place called Smokey Point, and we were a short walk from Twin Lakes. Again - days were spent swimming and sunning. And although western Washington is known for it's nearly constant rain, I don't recall alot of rain in the summers. Instead I remember walking the bike trail to Twin Lakes, helping ourselves to wild blackberries along the way, and hot muggy days in the sun.
A couple of years later brought us back to Texas - and Buffalo Springs Lake. It's only a few miles outside of Lubbock, and my high school summers found us out there as often as it did at a city pool or cruisin' around Maxey Park. Still hot, still sandy, my high summer memories of Buffalo tend to revolve around beer, looking good in my bikini and watching shirtless guys playing volleyball or tossin a football (and other activities that would be hidden quickly if any law enforcement drove by). I lost my favorite pair of sneakers one summer out there - when I had a couple too many brewski's and forgot to grab them when I went riding around with a cute boy. Never did find a pair of sneaks to equal those white Nikes.
(Pronounced Ni - KEEs by the way. I never heard anyone in Texas pronounce it any other way. Which it why it irritated the tar outta me when I saw Friday Night Lights and that kid kept referring to them as NIKES. Puh-leez.)
After high school, we branched out to White River Lake - again - hot, sandy, but you could put a boat on it. I think that's all that mattered to us - could you swim? Could you put a boat on it? We didn't go out there as much as we did to Buffalo, but we did make visits. Not long after I married MDH, we went fishing at White River, and one night at the crappie house (that's prounounced "croppie" even those it's spelt crappy. Don't ask me why - it doesn't make sense to me either), during a thunderstorm, I think we encountered a little twister. I can't think of anything else that would have snapped the inch thick bolt that was linking the crappie house to the shore. Nothing like looking out the door of the crappie house, which is supposed to be fixed into position, and seeing the shore swing away.
Needless to say, I don't go anywhere near a lake when there's a storm on the way anymore.
Before I had E, some friends of ours bought a place at Lake Stamford. It's about 3 hours away, and is like the lakes I remember most fondly - surrounded by mesquite, hot, muggy, and peaceful. It's mainly a fishing lake - that's why our friends started going, and that's why we ended up buying a place there. For some reason, when we get there - usually at night - I step into the steamy darkness, and feel at home. I'm not sure I'd want to live at the lake - but I do enjoy visiting. Our place is surrounded by huge mesquite trees and buffalo grass, with the occasional mulberry tree. It's a little place - just a two bedroom trailer house. But it's perfect for my little family. We have a place to keep our boat, and we spent alot of weekends down there fishing and relaxing.
I used to hate going down there. When the boys were little, MDH would go out fishing most of the day, and I'd be stuck in the house with two rambunctious little boys. You could only take them swimming for so long each day. But now they're older, and we all spend our days out fishing, with breaks for swimming, so I don't mind so much. In fact - we're going to be spending our vacation down there this year - so that my boys will have the kind of summer memories I do.
Swimming. Fishing. Sunning. Finding teeny weeny shells on the beach. Just being. Because isn't that what a vacation *should* be?
One of my first memories is of the 4th of July was seeing the fireworks show at Buffalo Springs Lake as a little girl. I remember spending the day there, in the heat, and sand, with my family and my grandparents. We had a picnic lunch of some kind and after a day of swimming and eating and playing, there was the cool that only comes after the sun goes down around here. I remember how the breeze felt soft as silk on my skin - and the huge beautiful fireworks overhead.
Later we often went down to Lake Brownwood in the summers. My grandparents on my mom's side would go down there to go fishing, and we would go down and camp for a few days. Unlike Buffalo Springs Lake, Lake Brownwood had the muggy heat that I tend to normally associate with lakes. Surrounded by live oak and mesquite, I remember walking along the beach, finding "sea shells" that were really the shells of lake mussels in all sizes. Teeny tiny ones that were smaller than even the end of my little girl fingers, and the big thrill was finding one bigger than my entire hand. Riding on the boat, fishing with Granma and Granpa, and Mr. Pibb.
Because back then, you could only find Mr. Pibb in South Texas.
Between my 7th & 8th grade years, we went on the road with my dad. He was working on a power plant near St. Johns, AZ and the first couple months of summer, we camped out at Lake Lymon State Park. We swam everyday, climbed to the top of the little mesa near the swimming hole and looked at petroglyphs, and at 3 pm everyday, headed to the tent, because that's when it rained.
The following summer took us to Washington State. We lived in a little place called Smokey Point, and we were a short walk from Twin Lakes. Again - days were spent swimming and sunning. And although western Washington is known for it's nearly constant rain, I don't recall alot of rain in the summers. Instead I remember walking the bike trail to Twin Lakes, helping ourselves to wild blackberries along the way, and hot muggy days in the sun.
A couple of years later brought us back to Texas - and Buffalo Springs Lake. It's only a few miles outside of Lubbock, and my high school summers found us out there as often as it did at a city pool or cruisin' around Maxey Park. Still hot, still sandy, my high summer memories of Buffalo tend to revolve around beer, looking good in my bikini and watching shirtless guys playing volleyball or tossin a football (and other activities that would be hidden quickly if any law enforcement drove by). I lost my favorite pair of sneakers one summer out there - when I had a couple too many brewski's and forgot to grab them when I went riding around with a cute boy. Never did find a pair of sneaks to equal those white Nikes.
(Pronounced Ni - KEEs by the way. I never heard anyone in Texas pronounce it any other way. Which it why it irritated the tar outta me when I saw Friday Night Lights and that kid kept referring to them as NIKES. Puh-leez.)
After high school, we branched out to White River Lake - again - hot, sandy, but you could put a boat on it. I think that's all that mattered to us - could you swim? Could you put a boat on it? We didn't go out there as much as we did to Buffalo, but we did make visits. Not long after I married MDH, we went fishing at White River, and one night at the crappie house (that's prounounced "croppie" even those it's spelt crappy. Don't ask me why - it doesn't make sense to me either), during a thunderstorm, I think we encountered a little twister. I can't think of anything else that would have snapped the inch thick bolt that was linking the crappie house to the shore. Nothing like looking out the door of the crappie house, which is supposed to be fixed into position, and seeing the shore swing away.
Needless to say, I don't go anywhere near a lake when there's a storm on the way anymore.
Before I had E, some friends of ours bought a place at Lake Stamford. It's about 3 hours away, and is like the lakes I remember most fondly - surrounded by mesquite, hot, muggy, and peaceful. It's mainly a fishing lake - that's why our friends started going, and that's why we ended up buying a place there. For some reason, when we get there - usually at night - I step into the steamy darkness, and feel at home. I'm not sure I'd want to live at the lake - but I do enjoy visiting. Our place is surrounded by huge mesquite trees and buffalo grass, with the occasional mulberry tree. It's a little place - just a two bedroom trailer house. But it's perfect for my little family. We have a place to keep our boat, and we spent alot of weekends down there fishing and relaxing.
I used to hate going down there. When the boys were little, MDH would go out fishing most of the day, and I'd be stuck in the house with two rambunctious little boys. You could only take them swimming for so long each day. But now they're older, and we all spend our days out fishing, with breaks for swimming, so I don't mind so much. In fact - we're going to be spending our vacation down there this year - so that my boys will have the kind of summer memories I do.
Swimming. Fishing. Sunning. Finding teeny weeny shells on the beach. Just being. Because isn't that what a vacation *should* be?
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Hail Sucketh. Much.
A few short weeks ago, I uploaded pictures of my cool weather garden to my Facebook. My cabbage, brusell sprouts and cauliflower (shut up - I *like* veggies!) were so pretty. And since then they have been growing like crazy. I had even begun to find tiny heads of cauliflower here and there.
Tuesday evening, as I was walking out of my office, my cell phone rang. It was J, who had been at home all day.
J: Wow mom!
Me: What son?
J: It looks like it SNOWED!
Uh oh. It's June. It does not snow in June in West Texas. It does, however, storm. And it had indeed been storming Tuesday afternoon.
This is what I found after driving home in the pouring rain:
*sigh*Life of a "farmer," eh?
I won't even tell you what it did to our garden. It's too depressing. And although I love shredded cabbage, this was not what I had in mind.
Last night, MDH, the boys and I got out there and re-planted tomatos, peppers, cucumbers and squash seedlings. This morning, MDH will be re-planting green beans, corn and canteloupe.
Because we are nothing if not gluttons for punishment. As for my cool weather plants, I think we'll just see if they recover. It's fairly early in their development - who knows - maybe by fall we'll actually have some cabbage and a cauliflower or two. And since the brusell sprouts hadn't started with the sprouts, maybe they'll be ok.
A girl can dream, can't she?
To be honest - we certainly needed the rain. And we got plenty of that. But man - I sure hated seeing my plants and trees so beat up. One of my daylilies was a week from blooming - all but one bud was beaten off the plant. And my asparagus? Oy.
Stalks. No ferns. I certainly hope it grows back some ferns. Otherwise I guess I'll be re-planting *that* next spring.Our one and only chick is eatin', poopin' and growing. It is very very cute. It started growing tailfeathers the other day. I'm hoping it's a hen, because I'm afraid I'm already too attached to the bugger to be eating him/her someday. If it's a hen, then at least we might get eggs.
You know - if we get her some friends and a rooster and all.
That's my life lately - work, a lot of gardening and talking to Chickie. Our only other excitement was going to Sonic last night for our free rootbeer float. I'm still convinced that my eldest is meant to be a lawyer - because that kid will argue about *anything* and hates to be wrong. No idea where he got *that* from....
I think I'd rather have free floats for excitement than this:
Ugh. Hail sucks.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Living the Hicksville Life
Life in Hicksville has been hectic lately. What with all the planting, weed pulling, watering and glaring.
Glaring? Yes - we have been glaring. For the last two years, since we moved to the boonies, we have enjoyed the distance between us and our nearest neighbors who were a good 15 acres away from us. At least until someone purchased the property between us.
Since then, our new neighbors ( let's call them Jethro and Ellie Mae, shall we?) have
a) let their 3 big dogs roam free - free to dig up and destroy my compost heap. Our sand heap. Our gutter that we hadn't put up yet.
b) when informed that the folks to the north of them free range their chickens, and letting their dog roam wild might not be appreciated, Jethro replied "Heh huh - guess they won't be free range for long!"
c) put up a pole light 200 feet from my front porch. Directly across from my bedroom window.
d) are now building one of those cheaply built homes about 6 feet off the property line - directly across from my front porch.
I know - I'm being petty. But for pete's sake. Control your dogs. And don't be a tool if you're *not* going to control them. I'm just waiting for someone to take a shot at those dogs because they were going after someone chickens.
Speaking of chickens, we borrowed an incubator and put in 24 eggs and have one cute little baby chick to show for it. We are such amateurs. We actually had two hatch, but the hubby forgot to read all of the incubator directions and took one out of the incubator too soon - and died. Our little chickie is very cute, and is pecking and cheeping very well. I went to look online to see if we could get some buddies shipped in for him (since we apparently suck at this incubatin thing) and found this:
Barbecue Special
That's so wrong. FUNNY - but wrong.
E made it through his first year of high school, and survived. Now both boys are out of school and looking forward to sleeping late and surfing the internet and watching TV all day.
Ha. Like that's gonna happen.
The hubs and I have already started our summer to-do list. Starting with "Build a Chicken Coop for Chickie."
Heh.
Glaring? Yes - we have been glaring. For the last two years, since we moved to the boonies, we have enjoyed the distance between us and our nearest neighbors who were a good 15 acres away from us. At least until someone purchased the property between us.
Since then, our new neighbors ( let's call them Jethro and Ellie Mae, shall we?) have
a) let their 3 big dogs roam free - free to dig up and destroy my compost heap. Our sand heap. Our gutter that we hadn't put up yet.
b) when informed that the folks to the north of them free range their chickens, and letting their dog roam wild might not be appreciated, Jethro replied "Heh huh - guess they won't be free range for long!"
c) put up a pole light 200 feet from my front porch. Directly across from my bedroom window.
d) are now building one of those cheaply built homes about 6 feet off the property line - directly across from my front porch.
I know - I'm being petty. But for pete's sake. Control your dogs. And don't be a tool if you're *not* going to control them. I'm just waiting for someone to take a shot at those dogs because they were going after someone chickens.
Speaking of chickens, we borrowed an incubator and put in 24 eggs and have one cute little baby chick to show for it. We are such amateurs. We actually had two hatch, but the hubby forgot to read all of the incubator directions and took one out of the incubator too soon - and died. Our little chickie is very cute, and is pecking and cheeping very well. I went to look online to see if we could get some buddies shipped in for him (since we apparently suck at this incubatin thing) and found this:
Barbecue Special
That's so wrong. FUNNY - but wrong.
E made it through his first year of high school, and survived. Now both boys are out of school and looking forward to sleeping late and surfing the internet and watching TV all day.
Ha. Like that's gonna happen.
The hubs and I have already started our summer to-do list. Starting with "Build a Chicken Coop for Chickie."
Heh.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
She Lives! And A Summer Yummy
Good heavens, has it really been since before *Christmas*? Sorry folks. I have been saving all my pithy ramblings for the evil MySpace blog, and lately - that addictive Twitter. Life in the Hicksville is hot, windy, and oh so blissful. But that's not what got me to finally put a blog up. BigMama is looking for easy peasy summer recipes for supper, and since she put up a Mr. Linky rather than letting us just post comments, I thought I'd contribute the easiest, coolest summer recipe I know.
Chef Salad
Buy a bag of salad. Any version will do. Dump into a big pretty bowl.
Add whatever other veggies you might have in the fridge. Cut up broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, cucumbers, tomatos, bell peppers - whatever floats your boat. And was preferably in the fridge all day.
Take deli ham and turkey, slice into quick strips, and dump on top.
Sprinkle with cheese from your handy dandy bag o shredded cheese.
Add slices of hard boiled eggs if you must. I don't care for them, but the hubby sometimes likes to add some to his.
Most importantly - serve with sides of fruit - whatever fruit your kids like. I've found that cantaloupe seems to go over pretty well. And let 'em pick out what they like from their serving of salad - what they don't eat, you can - and it won't even have a ton of calories either.
Top with your favorite dressing and voila. Cool, easy, tasty. Perfect for after a day broiling in the pool.
Or so I've heard. We don't have a pool. And there are no community pools out in the boonies. For me, it's perfect after spending hours baking while pulling weeds from the garden. As a matter of fact, I just may make this tonight. (No - I didn't do a menu plan this week. I'm a slacker. I blame the hubby - he's the one who dragged us all out to the lake last weekend to go fishing. Then I out-fished him. Heh. That'll teach 'im.)
Wow - that was much easier than I expected. Maybe if I get a comment or two, I might try it again!
Chef Salad
Buy a bag of salad. Any version will do. Dump into a big pretty bowl.
Add whatever other veggies you might have in the fridge. Cut up broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, cucumbers, tomatos, bell peppers - whatever floats your boat. And was preferably in the fridge all day.
Take deli ham and turkey, slice into quick strips, and dump on top.
Sprinkle with cheese from your handy dandy bag o shredded cheese.
Add slices of hard boiled eggs if you must. I don't care for them, but the hubby sometimes likes to add some to his.
Most importantly - serve with sides of fruit - whatever fruit your kids like. I've found that cantaloupe seems to go over pretty well. And let 'em pick out what they like from their serving of salad - what they don't eat, you can - and it won't even have a ton of calories either.
Top with your favorite dressing and voila. Cool, easy, tasty. Perfect for after a day broiling in the pool.
Or so I've heard. We don't have a pool. And there are no community pools out in the boonies. For me, it's perfect after spending hours baking while pulling weeds from the garden. As a matter of fact, I just may make this tonight. (No - I didn't do a menu plan this week. I'm a slacker. I blame the hubby - he's the one who dragged us all out to the lake last weekend to go fishing. Then I out-fished him. Heh. That'll teach 'im.)
Wow - that was much easier than I expected. Maybe if I get a comment or two, I might try it again!
Friday, November 30, 2007
When Contacts Attack
One of the unexpected benefits of living out in the boonies is the drive home after work. Not only does it give me 30 minutes a day - by myself no less - to listen to the Backstreet Boys to my heart's content, but I also get to watch the sun set every day.
I had forgotten how stunning a West Texas sunset can be.
In the last month, I have had my breath taken away so many times as the sky glowed with all the muted colors you could imagine. It has become a highlight of my day. Yesterday I had to stop at the store and pick up milk on the way home, and missed the sunset. I could not believe how disappointed I was.
Next time the kids can just wait another day for milk.
Yesterday morning while putting my contacts in, I discovered that at some point I had somehow switched the caps on my lens case. So for who knows how long I've been seeing out of the wrong eyes. I wear gas permeable lenses (as I am as blind as Mr. Magoo and soft contacts simply do not correct my vision enough for me to see clearly. And not seeing clearly would interfere with all kinds of things. Like seeing sunsets. And you know - driving.) so you think I would have noticed sooner.
At least now I know why I've looked like an extra from 28 Weeks Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.
Alas - I have nothing else interesting to post. Other than I have no idea what to get my husband for Christmas. Every time he wants something, he just buys it. (After comparing prices from a gazillion places and then buying it used somewhere. Ah - the life of a wife of the thrifty man) So I'm stumped. If anyone knows of a good gift for a man who loves hunting, fishing, and giving me a hard time, for heaven's sake - leave a comment.
(And if you have any idea where I might find a Wii console without paying eleventy billion dollars on ebay - drop me a line. Because we didn't come up with the brilliant idea to buy one until THANKSGIVING and as you all know - the US is sold out.)
I had forgotten how stunning a West Texas sunset can be.
In the last month, I have had my breath taken away so many times as the sky glowed with all the muted colors you could imagine. It has become a highlight of my day. Yesterday I had to stop at the store and pick up milk on the way home, and missed the sunset. I could not believe how disappointed I was.
Next time the kids can just wait another day for milk.
Yesterday morning while putting my contacts in, I discovered that at some point I had somehow switched the caps on my lens case. So for who knows how long I've been seeing out of the wrong eyes. I wear gas permeable lenses (as I am as blind as Mr. Magoo and soft contacts simply do not correct my vision enough for me to see clearly. And not seeing clearly would interfere with all kinds of things. Like seeing sunsets. And you know - driving.) so you think I would have noticed sooner.
At least now I know why I've looked like an extra from 28 Weeks Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.
Alas - I have nothing else interesting to post. Other than I have no idea what to get my husband for Christmas. Every time he wants something, he just buys it. (After comparing prices from a gazillion places and then buying it used somewhere. Ah - the life of a wife of the thrifty man) So I'm stumped. If anyone knows of a good gift for a man who loves hunting, fishing, and giving me a hard time, for heaven's sake - leave a comment.
(And if you have any idea where I might find a Wii console without paying eleventy billion dollars on ebay - drop me a line. Because we didn't come up with the brilliant idea to buy one until THANKSGIVING and as you all know - the US is sold out.)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sports, Band and Trees - Oh My
Let me begin by just stating - I am a sports fan. Even more - I am a hockey fan. I completely understand how a person can get caught up in a game and lose perspective.
But you would think parents would be able to behave better.
Last night, E had his 2nd basketball game. We played at home. We played a team from a prep school nearby, and we were obviously playing their A team. E, since he did not play last year, is on the B team for Hicksville Middle School. The team they were playing was very good. They came out to rousing start and quickly managed to lead by over 20 points. Their kids made fancy jump shots from all over. They had fancy passing patterns and executed them flawlessly. And the parents were very enthusiastic in their support of their kids. I have no objections to that. Truly I don't.
I do have objections to those parents taking up the home section of the stands. We have a very nice visitor's section. I fail to see why the parents couldn't do all their whoopin' and hollerin' from that section, instead of insisting upon sitting in our section and being obnoxious.
Not only that, but if you're going to sit in the home team's section of the stands, and make a spectacle of yourselves when your team is winning, do not get annoyed when our little ole B team manages to come back in the 4th and WIN the game, ok? I mean really - if you can whoop and holler, so can we. And we're hicks - so we're *expected* to act that way. You people are the ones who send your hot shot kids to a fancy prep school - show some class already!
This concludes my fan rant.
In other news, the mom-in-law is doing great. She is scheduled to have a PET scan, and we are cautiously optimistic that the scan will come back clear. For the one or two folks that read my silly ole blog, please continue to keep her in your prayers.
E's football season ended with him scoring a few extra points, and the team winning district overall. The high school team made the playoffs, and won the Bi-District title, but then lost last week. It was still an awesome year for them. The band qualified for the area competition, but failed to make the state competition. We are still very proud of how well they did this year as well.
J is having a rougher year as a middle schooler. He just doesn't see the point of not only doing his homework, but turning it in. Consequently, he has been grounded until those grades come up. *sigh* It would be one thing if he just didn't get the material - but he aces his tests. He just doesn't like homework. He's also been branded "weird" by the oh-so-knowledgeable 6th grade girl club. J has always been an individual, with a highly active imagination. Apparently that's not appreciated by middle schoolers out here. If anyone has any advice on how to comfort a sensitive, kind 12 yr old boy who thinks "any girl would be crazy to like me," I'd sure appreciate it.
The days are getting cooler out in the boonies, and the nights even colder. My beautiful ceramic tile in the kitchen is pretty darn cold in the mornings, so I picked up some slippers at Target during the big ole Black Friday sale. My boys (all 3 of them) are pretty amused to see me padding around the house rockin my new cheetah print slippers and red fleece with snowmen robe. Pfft. *I* like 'em. And they're warm. So there.
The tree is up, although I forgot to put the garland on before I put all the ornaments on. It's still pretty. I've been hanging fake pine garlands all over the place where I can - oddly enough, lengths that were perfect for my old house seem kinda short in this one. I'm making do. I may give in and buy a couple of new ones. But until then, I'm just having fun finding new places for all my Christmas stuff. I've started my Christmas shopping, and I'm *hoping* that I'll be done before the middle of December. Yeah - I know, but we all gotta have dreams, right?
We have planted more trees on our land, and just ordered a ton more from the Soil & Water conservation people. Someday we'll have a windbreak. Until then, the porch will be deserted until spring arrives. I'll miss watching the sunsets.
Here's hoping everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
But you would think parents would be able to behave better.
Last night, E had his 2nd basketball game. We played at home. We played a team from a prep school nearby, and we were obviously playing their A team. E, since he did not play last year, is on the B team for Hicksville Middle School. The team they were playing was very good. They came out to rousing start and quickly managed to lead by over 20 points. Their kids made fancy jump shots from all over. They had fancy passing patterns and executed them flawlessly. And the parents were very enthusiastic in their support of their kids. I have no objections to that. Truly I don't.
I do have objections to those parents taking up the home section of the stands. We have a very nice visitor's section. I fail to see why the parents couldn't do all their whoopin' and hollerin' from that section, instead of insisting upon sitting in our section and being obnoxious.
Not only that, but if you're going to sit in the home team's section of the stands, and make a spectacle of yourselves when your team is winning, do not get annoyed when our little ole B team manages to come back in the 4th and WIN the game, ok? I mean really - if you can whoop and holler, so can we. And we're hicks - so we're *expected* to act that way. You people are the ones who send your hot shot kids to a fancy prep school - show some class already!
This concludes my fan rant.
In other news, the mom-in-law is doing great. She is scheduled to have a PET scan, and we are cautiously optimistic that the scan will come back clear. For the one or two folks that read my silly ole blog, please continue to keep her in your prayers.
E's football season ended with him scoring a few extra points, and the team winning district overall. The high school team made the playoffs, and won the Bi-District title, but then lost last week. It was still an awesome year for them. The band qualified for the area competition, but failed to make the state competition. We are still very proud of how well they did this year as well.
J is having a rougher year as a middle schooler. He just doesn't see the point of not only doing his homework, but turning it in. Consequently, he has been grounded until those grades come up. *sigh* It would be one thing if he just didn't get the material - but he aces his tests. He just doesn't like homework. He's also been branded "weird" by the oh-so-knowledgeable 6th grade girl club. J has always been an individual, with a highly active imagination. Apparently that's not appreciated by middle schoolers out here. If anyone has any advice on how to comfort a sensitive, kind 12 yr old boy who thinks "any girl would be crazy to like me," I'd sure appreciate it.
The days are getting cooler out in the boonies, and the nights even colder. My beautiful ceramic tile in the kitchen is pretty darn cold in the mornings, so I picked up some slippers at Target during the big ole Black Friday sale. My boys (all 3 of them) are pretty amused to see me padding around the house rockin my new cheetah print slippers and red fleece with snowmen robe. Pfft. *I* like 'em. And they're warm. So there.
The tree is up, although I forgot to put the garland on before I put all the ornaments on. It's still pretty. I've been hanging fake pine garlands all over the place where I can - oddly enough, lengths that were perfect for my old house seem kinda short in this one. I'm making do. I may give in and buy a couple of new ones. But until then, I'm just having fun finding new places for all my Christmas stuff. I've started my Christmas shopping, and I'm *hoping* that I'll be done before the middle of December. Yeah - I know, but we all gotta have dreams, right?
We have planted more trees on our land, and just ordered a ton more from the Soil & Water conservation people. Someday we'll have a windbreak. Until then, the porch will be deserted until spring arrives. I'll miss watching the sunsets.
Here's hoping everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Hate. Fear. Strength. Faith.
I hate Cancer.
I hate that the treatment for it is almost as bad as the disease. I hate that my sweet little mom-in-law has to spend weeks in the hospital with sores in her mouth and throat while waiting for her stem cells to graft and start producing nice little white cells so she won't be in so much pain. I hate that my husband has to sit in a hospital room for hours on end, seeing his mother in pain and feeling helpless to help her. I hate that he has to worry when after 10 days she still hasn't started producing white cells - and that this latest course of treatment might not work. I hate that after losing his favorite uncle, he now has to worry about losing her. I hate that my kids have to be without their dad most of each week because he needs to be with his mama.
But most of all, I hate the fear that creeps over me every time I even think of the possibility of losing the mom-in-law. Not necessarily how the loss will affect me directly. I do love her, and I would miss her terribly. But I am terrified what it will do to M. He tries to be so strong, but a man can only take so much. And he is on the very end of his rope lately. I'm afraid what will happen if he happens to slip off. And I hate being afraid.
You see - I'm the tough one. The one who can handle anything. Really - ask my friends. I'm the "normal" person in the group - the one with the great marriage, the so-called normal kids, the job she enjoys - the one who never has a crisis. When my grandparents died within 45 days of each other, I handled it. When my youngest broke his arm and had to have surgery, I handled it. When he had meningitis, I handled it. I'm a strong person, and I handle things. It's what I do.
So when I start fearing things, it pisses me off. *I* don't get scared! But I am. I worry that my strength isn't enough to hold my husband together if the worst happens. I've seen him fall apart before. I'm afraid he might again. I wonder if I'm still strong enough to handle it this time.
Of course, I don't have to handle it by myself. I know that. I know I should let go, and Let God. Sometimes that's easier said than done. It was easy to do when it had to do with our mongo house project. It was easy to do when I sent my kids off to school. For some reason, when it comes to my husband's sanity and peace of mind, it's much harder to do. I'm not sure why. I consider myself a woman of faith.
Lately though, I feel more like a woman of fear. And I HATE that.
I hate that the treatment for it is almost as bad as the disease. I hate that my sweet little mom-in-law has to spend weeks in the hospital with sores in her mouth and throat while waiting for her stem cells to graft and start producing nice little white cells so she won't be in so much pain. I hate that my husband has to sit in a hospital room for hours on end, seeing his mother in pain and feeling helpless to help her. I hate that he has to worry when after 10 days she still hasn't started producing white cells - and that this latest course of treatment might not work. I hate that after losing his favorite uncle, he now has to worry about losing her. I hate that my kids have to be without their dad most of each week because he needs to be with his mama.
But most of all, I hate the fear that creeps over me every time I even think of the possibility of losing the mom-in-law. Not necessarily how the loss will affect me directly. I do love her, and I would miss her terribly. But I am terrified what it will do to M. He tries to be so strong, but a man can only take so much. And he is on the very end of his rope lately. I'm afraid what will happen if he happens to slip off. And I hate being afraid.
You see - I'm the tough one. The one who can handle anything. Really - ask my friends. I'm the "normal" person in the group - the one with the great marriage, the so-called normal kids, the job she enjoys - the one who never has a crisis. When my grandparents died within 45 days of each other, I handled it. When my youngest broke his arm and had to have surgery, I handled it. When he had meningitis, I handled it. I'm a strong person, and I handle things. It's what I do.
So when I start fearing things, it pisses me off. *I* don't get scared! But I am. I worry that my strength isn't enough to hold my husband together if the worst happens. I've seen him fall apart before. I'm afraid he might again. I wonder if I'm still strong enough to handle it this time.
Of course, I don't have to handle it by myself. I know that. I know I should let go, and Let God. Sometimes that's easier said than done. It was easy to do when it had to do with our mongo house project. It was easy to do when I sent my kids off to school. For some reason, when it comes to my husband's sanity and peace of mind, it's much harder to do. I'm not sure why. I consider myself a woman of faith.
Lately though, I feel more like a woman of fear. And I HATE that.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Never Forget
Originally posted on September 9, 2006.
It's weird what you remember about events. I remember most clearly what I was wearing. It was my favorite pantsuit - when I put it on that morning, I remember admiring how well it fit me, and how it managed to make me look slimmer than I was. It was black, with coral trim on the lapels and coral buttons down the front. And I wore my black boots, the ones with the super high heels, because the pants were a little long for my little 5'3" legs, and the boots made the whole outfit perfect.
How oddly appropriate that I wore black that day.
I was sitting in my office - on my computer, checking my message board and planning my day. One of my students came into my office and began the shattering of what I thought I knew about the world.
"Mysti - do we still have that TV?"
"Sure - it's in the file room - why?"
"A plane just flew into the World Trade Center"
"No s***? How'd they not see that?"
At that time - when he said plane - I thought a little prop plane. Because surely it was some inexperienced pilot that ran into the World Trade Center. And I had no idea what the day would bring - what kind of horror would be visited upon us as a nation that day. It was just a little ole plane, right? I figured maybe a few offices worth of damage. Tragic to be sure, but there was no way I could know what was coming. It was probably just a little prop plane. I mean hell - it never ever occurred to me that it could have been an airliner. Those pilots know what they're doing, right?
Did they ever. >:<
So we went to the back, turned on the TV and saw the billowing smoke. We marveled over how someone could have missed seeing the building, then I went back to my desk and send an ICQ message to someone - Rog, Jen, I don't know. Someone. About the plane. Then I went back to check on the news coverage. And found Todd standing there staring at the TV in shock. Because another plane had hit the other tower. And as we stared at each other in dismay, we realized that maybe the first plane wasn't an accident. And maybe it wasn't a prop plane either. About that time, I pulled the TV out into the main office area. By now everyone knew what was going on. And we watched in horror at the billowing smoke, and heard Matt Lauer talk about people jumping, and the flames, and how the fire department was responding. Never dreaming what was coming.
Then the tower fell. And we watched in horror. Not knowing how many people were still inside the buildings. Amazed at how the tower fell straight down. Exclaiming to each other "Oh my God...oh my God." Then it hit me. Not only all the people in the buildings. But the paramedics. The firefighters. The policemen. And I bent over - in anguish, nauseated, physically nauseated at the loss of life, trying to control my tears, pacing back and forth between my office and the TV - unable to tear myself away, but hardly bearing to watch. Other faculty and students came out of their offices - as we watched replay after replay of thousands of people dying. Unable to not watch. And as we were watching another replay, Gopal (one of our professors) said something that made my heart stop.
"Is that the first tower? Are you sure?"
"It's the replay - they keep showing it over and over and...."
"No - look - there's not another tower there - the second tower just fell!"
"Oh God. Not that one too."
Yes. That one too. And the horror ...well it refreshed itself. Seeing one tower full of people fall was bad enough - but BOTH of them? It was almost too much to bear.
And through all of that - we never thought it was anything more than a couple of crazies. We knew it was on purpose - all you had to do was see the footage of the second plane flying into it's tower and there was no doubt it wasn't an accident. But a well coordinated attack on our country? Like the rest - it just never occurred to me. That day was full of assumptions I made based on the world I thought I knew. Not that I hadn't heard of Bin Laden. I actually had. A couple of years before I read a Reader's Digest article that was an interview with former president Clinton. Someone asked him what was the biggest threat to the US, and he replied "Osama Bin Laden." And elaborated. So I had heard of him. I had read about him. I knew he was a fanatic. But it just never occurred to me that he'd plan THIS.
Then someone on the news said that a plane had flown into the Pentagon.
And I said out loud, "That's it. Oh my God, we're at war."
And we were. And I finally learned what the phrase "and her blood chilled" felt like. It wasn't a fun feeling. I thought of my husband, my kids...where they were, what they were doing, were they safe? Would they stay safe? Were planes about to come raining down all over the country? I know I'm in Podunk, TX, but Pantex is just a couple of hours up the interstate....all these thoughts raced through my head, as I watched everyone run, listened to the folks on TV say what all of us were thinking, saw the people with the gray faces, shocked and unbelieving... and I continued to pace. I could hardly sit down. I'd sit at my computer, post another message on my hockey board, then it was back to the TV. I'd try to work, but I couldn't. How could I concentrate on accounts when the world was falling apart around me? When we were under attack!?
I remember the TV saying that all planes had been grounded. I remember hearing about the flight that went down in Pennsylvania. And I watched TV. And paced - in my high heeled boots. In my favorite black pantsuit. All I wanted to do was go pick up my children and hug them and take them home. Where they'd be with me and safe. And when 5 o'clock finally got here, I left work - and went to pick up my children. And nearly ran into the after-school program and hugged them. I realized that while they knew something had happened today, they didn't seem to realize just how drastically our world had changed. When we got home, we sent them off to watch movies in another room, and Monty and I watched TV some more. Heard the story of someone who had ridden the debris down and survived - then the retraction when it was proven wrong. Hoped they'd find survivors - and felt the overwhelming sorrow when everyone started to realize that there just weren't many. Watched them try to dig through the debris to find survivors - and watched them run when someone thought there might be a shift of the wreckage - or another building came down.
And listened. You could still hear them. It's a sound that I'd never heard before 9/11. And when I hear it now, it still sends chills down my spine. Granted, I only hear it when watching Rescue Me, but the sound of the alarms - the ones that the firefighters wear that only go off when they're motionless......hundreds of them.....once I knew what they were, what the sound was, and why they were blaring....how much Lord? How much can we all bear? Those were the thoughts in my head.
I stayed up too late watching the cable news channels. Trying to accept? adjust? to what I was seeing. And got up the next morning, and turned the TV back on. Went to work, and had the TV on...hoping that they'd find more survivors. And in the background....my ears adjusted to the fact that there were no more planes in the air.
Several days later, I sat in my office and heard fighter jets go over our campus. (We had an Air Force base just outside of town most of my life - Reese is closed as a military base now, but I know the sound of a fighter when I hear one) Never before had that sound scared me. It did that day. And to this day - when hear a low flying jet, I tense up. I've flown once since that day. I didn't like it much. But I did it. Because no stinkin terrorists were going to stop me from living my life as I see fit.
But I don't wear that pantsuit very often. I still have it. But every time I put it on, it doesn't seem to fit anymore. And not just because I've gained a few pounds in the last 5 years. Rather - the person that wore that pantsuit on the morning of 9/11/01 isn't the same one that tries it on now. But I still have it. And the boots. And every time I look at them, I remember. Because this Redneck Texan will never forget that day. And how it changed everything.
Rocks In My Dryer hosted an I Remember 9/11 day at her site last year. I'm not sure if you can find the link, I haven't checked. But just in case, drop by. So no one forgets those who died that day. Just for going into the office, or getting on a plane.
It's weird what you remember about events. I remember most clearly what I was wearing. It was my favorite pantsuit - when I put it on that morning, I remember admiring how well it fit me, and how it managed to make me look slimmer than I was. It was black, with coral trim on the lapels and coral buttons down the front. And I wore my black boots, the ones with the super high heels, because the pants were a little long for my little 5'3" legs, and the boots made the whole outfit perfect.
How oddly appropriate that I wore black that day.
I was sitting in my office - on my computer, checking my message board and planning my day. One of my students came into my office and began the shattering of what I thought I knew about the world.
"Mysti - do we still have that TV?"
"Sure - it's in the file room - why?"
"A plane just flew into the World Trade Center"
"No s***? How'd they not see that?"
At that time - when he said plane - I thought a little prop plane. Because surely it was some inexperienced pilot that ran into the World Trade Center. And I had no idea what the day would bring - what kind of horror would be visited upon us as a nation that day. It was just a little ole plane, right? I figured maybe a few offices worth of damage. Tragic to be sure, but there was no way I could know what was coming. It was probably just a little prop plane. I mean hell - it never ever occurred to me that it could have been an airliner. Those pilots know what they're doing, right?
Did they ever. >:<
So we went to the back, turned on the TV and saw the billowing smoke. We marveled over how someone could have missed seeing the building, then I went back to my desk and send an ICQ message to someone - Rog, Jen, I don't know. Someone. About the plane. Then I went back to check on the news coverage. And found Todd standing there staring at the TV in shock. Because another plane had hit the other tower. And as we stared at each other in dismay, we realized that maybe the first plane wasn't an accident. And maybe it wasn't a prop plane either. About that time, I pulled the TV out into the main office area. By now everyone knew what was going on. And we watched in horror at the billowing smoke, and heard Matt Lauer talk about people jumping, and the flames, and how the fire department was responding. Never dreaming what was coming.
Then the tower fell. And we watched in horror. Not knowing how many people were still inside the buildings. Amazed at how the tower fell straight down. Exclaiming to each other "Oh my God...oh my God." Then it hit me. Not only all the people in the buildings. But the paramedics. The firefighters. The policemen. And I bent over - in anguish, nauseated, physically nauseated at the loss of life, trying to control my tears, pacing back and forth between my office and the TV - unable to tear myself away, but hardly bearing to watch. Other faculty and students came out of their offices - as we watched replay after replay of thousands of people dying. Unable to not watch. And as we were watching another replay, Gopal (one of our professors) said something that made my heart stop.
"Is that the first tower? Are you sure?"
"It's the replay - they keep showing it over and over and...."
"No - look - there's not another tower there - the second tower just fell!"
"Oh God. Not that one too."
Yes. That one too. And the horror ...well it refreshed itself. Seeing one tower full of people fall was bad enough - but BOTH of them? It was almost too much to bear.
And through all of that - we never thought it was anything more than a couple of crazies. We knew it was on purpose - all you had to do was see the footage of the second plane flying into it's tower and there was no doubt it wasn't an accident. But a well coordinated attack on our country? Like the rest - it just never occurred to me. That day was full of assumptions I made based on the world I thought I knew. Not that I hadn't heard of Bin Laden. I actually had. A couple of years before I read a Reader's Digest article that was an interview with former president Clinton. Someone asked him what was the biggest threat to the US, and he replied "Osama Bin Laden." And elaborated. So I had heard of him. I had read about him. I knew he was a fanatic. But it just never occurred to me that he'd plan THIS.
Then someone on the news said that a plane had flown into the Pentagon.
And I said out loud, "That's it. Oh my God, we're at war."
And we were. And I finally learned what the phrase "and her blood chilled" felt like. It wasn't a fun feeling. I thought of my husband, my kids...where they were, what they were doing, were they safe? Would they stay safe? Were planes about to come raining down all over the country? I know I'm in Podunk, TX, but Pantex is just a couple of hours up the interstate....all these thoughts raced through my head, as I watched everyone run, listened to the folks on TV say what all of us were thinking, saw the people with the gray faces, shocked and unbelieving... and I continued to pace. I could hardly sit down. I'd sit at my computer, post another message on my hockey board, then it was back to the TV. I'd try to work, but I couldn't. How could I concentrate on accounts when the world was falling apart around me? When we were under attack!?
I remember the TV saying that all planes had been grounded. I remember hearing about the flight that went down in Pennsylvania. And I watched TV. And paced - in my high heeled boots. In my favorite black pantsuit. All I wanted to do was go pick up my children and hug them and take them home. Where they'd be with me and safe. And when 5 o'clock finally got here, I left work - and went to pick up my children. And nearly ran into the after-school program and hugged them. I realized that while they knew something had happened today, they didn't seem to realize just how drastically our world had changed. When we got home, we sent them off to watch movies in another room, and Monty and I watched TV some more. Heard the story of someone who had ridden the debris down and survived - then the retraction when it was proven wrong. Hoped they'd find survivors - and felt the overwhelming sorrow when everyone started to realize that there just weren't many. Watched them try to dig through the debris to find survivors - and watched them run when someone thought there might be a shift of the wreckage - or another building came down.
And listened. You could still hear them. It's a sound that I'd never heard before 9/11. And when I hear it now, it still sends chills down my spine. Granted, I only hear it when watching Rescue Me, but the sound of the alarms - the ones that the firefighters wear that only go off when they're motionless......hundreds of them.....once I knew what they were, what the sound was, and why they were blaring....how much Lord? How much can we all bear? Those were the thoughts in my head.
I stayed up too late watching the cable news channels. Trying to accept? adjust? to what I was seeing. And got up the next morning, and turned the TV back on. Went to work, and had the TV on...hoping that they'd find more survivors. And in the background....my ears adjusted to the fact that there were no more planes in the air.
Several days later, I sat in my office and heard fighter jets go over our campus. (We had an Air Force base just outside of town most of my life - Reese is closed as a military base now, but I know the sound of a fighter when I hear one) Never before had that sound scared me. It did that day. And to this day - when hear a low flying jet, I tense up. I've flown once since that day. I didn't like it much. But I did it. Because no stinkin terrorists were going to stop me from living my life as I see fit.
But I don't wear that pantsuit very often. I still have it. But every time I put it on, it doesn't seem to fit anymore. And not just because I've gained a few pounds in the last 5 years. Rather - the person that wore that pantsuit on the morning of 9/11/01 isn't the same one that tries it on now. But I still have it. And the boots. And every time I look at them, I remember. Because this Redneck Texan will never forget that day. And how it changed everything.
Rocks In My Dryer hosted an I Remember 9/11 day at her site last year. I'm not sure if you can find the link, I haven't checked. But just in case, drop by. So no one forgets those who died that day. Just for going into the office, or getting on a plane.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The End of Summer
Today is the first day of school in Texas, and that includes Hicksville. I made a point of getting up a full TWENTY minutes earlier than usual to make sure the boys were up and ready in time to get to school before the bell rang, and still managed to be 25 minutes late to work. Of course, that was thanks to the lovely road construction around Big University where I work. I do wish they would tell us ahead of time that they are taking out a *major* section of my normal route to work. Sheesh.
I will be a nervous wreck this afternoon, as they are taking the bus home for the first time since the move, and I've totally convinced they will somehow get on the wrong bus and get left in the middle of nowhere and it'll take me days to track 'em down. I hope E remembered to take his cell phone. I know - it's silly. I mean really, when I called to find out what bus they need to ride home, I was told it was bus 3. THREE. Even when I went to school in AlmostHicksville right outside of Big Town, the buses had more numbers in them! So it's not like they have too much of a chance of getting lost in the multitudes. But still.
You just never know.
I just hope they are not traumatized by their lack of actual trapper keepers that they were to have today. I sent them off at the WalMart to track one down, and last night discovered what they came back with was not a trapper keeper, but rather some kind of expanding file folder thing that just will not do. Unfortunately, before I could give them the lecture about sticking to what the school supply list says, we discovered I had purchased two each of several colors of the WRONG folders that were listed. There goes *that* life lesson, eh?
After all the fun we had procuring school supplies, I decided that I had entirely too many ripe tomatoes and made a batch of hot sauce to can. Once again, despite following my grandma's directions *exactly* - I ended up with 5 pints instead of 8. I have no idea why, but it happens every time. I also decided to put on the big girl panties and cut up my own jalepenos instead of making the hubby do it, then spent the rest of the evening trying to stop the burning fires of hell that was underneath my finger nails, and not rub my eyes at any time. This even after coating my hands in olive oil before starting to cut them up. Hmph. Next time M can do that. Because that was not fun. At all.
Last weekend I attempted making dill pickles. They certainly *look* like they'll taste yummy, but I'm too chicken to open them up and taste them. I think I'll wait until our friends come out and get one of them to taste test them for me. Preferably P. As a former hockey player, I'm pretty sure he'll pretty much eat anything.
The cantaloupe finally ripened and we've been enjoying those for the last couple of weeks. Sadly, one of our vines just died and we don't know why, so I'm hoping the other two manage to stay alive until the fruits on their vines ripen up. We also have about eleventy billion watermelons to eat now. I'm thinking we'll be leaving some of those with the yellow squash in any unlocked cars we come across.
Drat - we went to church in Hicksville yesterday, and I forget to check the cars. No wonder I still have that squash!
I did manage to write out a menu plan, but I forgot to look at it this morning before coming to work, so I'll post that tomorrow. It's the first week of classes here at Big University as well, so I had better get some work done. I'm thinking this grad students are getting a little cranky waiting for their fee waivers to show up.
Y'all have a great week!
I will be a nervous wreck this afternoon, as they are taking the bus home for the first time since the move, and I've totally convinced they will somehow get on the wrong bus and get left in the middle of nowhere and it'll take me days to track 'em down. I hope E remembered to take his cell phone. I know - it's silly. I mean really, when I called to find out what bus they need to ride home, I was told it was bus 3. THREE. Even when I went to school in AlmostHicksville right outside of Big Town, the buses had more numbers in them! So it's not like they have too much of a chance of getting lost in the multitudes. But still.
You just never know.
I just hope they are not traumatized by their lack of actual trapper keepers that they were to have today. I sent them off at the WalMart to track one down, and last night discovered what they came back with was not a trapper keeper, but rather some kind of expanding file folder thing that just will not do. Unfortunately, before I could give them the lecture about sticking to what the school supply list says, we discovered I had purchased two each of several colors of the WRONG folders that were listed. There goes *that* life lesson, eh?
After all the fun we had procuring school supplies, I decided that I had entirely too many ripe tomatoes and made a batch of hot sauce to can. Once again, despite following my grandma's directions *exactly* - I ended up with 5 pints instead of 8. I have no idea why, but it happens every time. I also decided to put on the big girl panties and cut up my own jalepenos instead of making the hubby do it, then spent the rest of the evening trying to stop the burning fires of hell that was underneath my finger nails, and not rub my eyes at any time. This even after coating my hands in olive oil before starting to cut them up. Hmph. Next time M can do that. Because that was not fun. At all.
Last weekend I attempted making dill pickles. They certainly *look* like they'll taste yummy, but I'm too chicken to open them up and taste them. I think I'll wait until our friends come out and get one of them to taste test them for me. Preferably P. As a former hockey player, I'm pretty sure he'll pretty much eat anything.
The cantaloupe finally ripened and we've been enjoying those for the last couple of weeks. Sadly, one of our vines just died and we don't know why, so I'm hoping the other two manage to stay alive until the fruits on their vines ripen up. We also have about eleventy billion watermelons to eat now. I'm thinking we'll be leaving some of those with the yellow squash in any unlocked cars we come across.
Drat - we went to church in Hicksville yesterday, and I forget to check the cars. No wonder I still have that squash!
I did manage to write out a menu plan, but I forgot to look at it this morning before coming to work, so I'll post that tomorrow. It's the first week of classes here at Big University as well, so I had better get some work done. I'm thinking this grad students are getting a little cranky waiting for their fee waivers to show up.
Y'all have a great week!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Hey! Who turned off Spring?
After months of pleasant weather, it seems as though the dog days of summer have hit West Texas, and hit hard. You would think after 30-something years of living out here, I would be used to the heat and it wouldn't bother me.
You would think wrong indeed.
I was enjoying being able to work out in the yard each evening after starting supper. I enjoyed (oddly enough) cleaning my pool in the evening. Listening to the birds. Watching the bunnies frolic and eat my new expensive grass. I enjoyed sitting on my ginormous porch and reading without worrying about heat stroke.
Pfft. Those days are over for a while. Holy cow. I had forgotten how bloomin hot it gets in the summer!
Luckily, my garden seems to like hot. I have cantaloupes that have been almost ready to harvest for a week now (and honestly, I think they are purposely finding some way to stay green just to taunt me because I love me some cantaloupe). I have watermelon that continue to grow and grow. I have so many green tomatoes on the vine that I'm already mentally counting to see if I have enough pint canning jars for all the yummy hot sauce I will be making come September. Myfour acres one row of pinto beans, on the other hand, only produced a measly 4 plants, but those plants put out alot of green pintos! And like all West Texans, we are cruising parking lots in the evening, searching for unlocked cars to gift with yellow squash.
Because I can only eat fried yellow squash once a week. And our 4 plants are putting out enough to feed Afghanistan. And Ethiopia. I think we could make a dent in Pakistan as well.
Out of all the flower seeds I planted, only the zinnias came up. They are now blooming prettily along my porch, along with snapdragons and marigolds. I lost one of my lavender bushes, and I think my spanish broom has bit the dust, but I finally found me an old fashioned purple Texas lilac bush that is adjusting well. As well as honeysuckle, purple lantana, and a gorgeous red crepe myrtle that will look lovely against our buff colored brick. One of these days, maybe if I can get M to mow the lawn this weekend, I'll take pictures and share. But you'll have to promise to ignore the weeds around the edges of my landscaping, as they seem to love this hot hot weather as well.
Not to mention my ugly not-so-easy set up Intex pool.
The boys claim they aren't ready for school, but E has already started marching band practice in Hicksville, and seems to enjoy that. I think they have really enjoyed their lazy summer. I know they've enjoyed sleeping until 10 or 11 am. I know *I* would enjoy that. I've started waking them up around 9:30 am so they can start getting used to earlier bedtimes and earlier wake ups. We won't discuss how that earned me the title of Evil Mom. Heh.
My mom-in-law begins her 2nd hard core round of chemo on Monday. If you have time, please drop a prayer to the deity of your choice for her to respond well to the treatment with few side effects, and grace and wisdom for her doctors. As well as patience for M & I over the next few weeks. We plan on taking off most of next week to go up to Amarillo to help out when we can, and also to take the boys on a little mini summer vacation. They need to have that, since so far their only trip out of town was to San Angelo for a funeral. I'd like them to have some happier summer trip memories if possible.
You would think wrong indeed.
I was enjoying being able to work out in the yard each evening after starting supper. I enjoyed (oddly enough) cleaning my pool in the evening. Listening to the birds. Watching the bunnies frolic and eat my new expensive grass. I enjoyed sitting on my ginormous porch and reading without worrying about heat stroke.
Pfft. Those days are over for a while. Holy cow. I had forgotten how bloomin hot it gets in the summer!
Luckily, my garden seems to like hot. I have cantaloupes that have been almost ready to harvest for a week now (and honestly, I think they are purposely finding some way to stay green just to taunt me because I love me some cantaloupe). I have watermelon that continue to grow and grow. I have so many green tomatoes on the vine that I'm already mentally counting to see if I have enough pint canning jars for all the yummy hot sauce I will be making come September. My
Because I can only eat fried yellow squash once a week. And our 4 plants are putting out enough to feed Afghanistan. And Ethiopia. I think we could make a dent in Pakistan as well.
Out of all the flower seeds I planted, only the zinnias came up. They are now blooming prettily along my porch, along with snapdragons and marigolds. I lost one of my lavender bushes, and I think my spanish broom has bit the dust, but I finally found me an old fashioned purple Texas lilac bush that is adjusting well. As well as honeysuckle, purple lantana, and a gorgeous red crepe myrtle that will look lovely against our buff colored brick. One of these days, maybe if I can get M to mow the lawn this weekend, I'll take pictures and share. But you'll have to promise to ignore the weeds around the edges of my landscaping, as they seem to love this hot hot weather as well.
Not to mention my ugly not-so-easy set up Intex pool.
The boys claim they aren't ready for school, but E has already started marching band practice in Hicksville, and seems to enjoy that. I think they have really enjoyed their lazy summer. I know they've enjoyed sleeping until 10 or 11 am. I know *I* would enjoy that. I've started waking them up around 9:30 am so they can start getting used to earlier bedtimes and earlier wake ups. We won't discuss how that earned me the title of Evil Mom. Heh.
My mom-in-law begins her 2nd hard core round of chemo on Monday. If you have time, please drop a prayer to the deity of your choice for her to respond well to the treatment with few side effects, and grace and wisdom for her doctors. As well as patience for M & I over the next few weeks. We plan on taking off most of next week to go up to Amarillo to help out when we can, and also to take the boys on a little mini summer vacation. They need to have that, since so far their only trip out of town was to San Angelo for a funeral. I'd like them to have some happier summer trip memories if possible.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
When In-Laws Become Family
When you marry, you not only gain a life partner, but a whole bunch of new family members. If you are lucky, they like you and you like them, and Christmas and Thanksgiving and kid birthdays and family reunions are pleasant and full of memories.
If you are blessed, some of those new family members take in you into their hearts and love you and you do the same to them. Eventually there comes a day when they are no longer "in-laws" but just family. Beloved family.
I have been blessed. My darling hubby's family is not perfect, and there are those that I'd just as soon never see again, but for the most part, I've grown to love these folks as though I had grown up with them. Even crazy Aunt Dottie. Especially Aunt Dottie - because that girl has some *wild* stories! For each family member, that moment where they became *my* family was different. For Aunt Dottie, it was the first time I met her, the day after MDH's father had passed away (Dottie was his dad's sister). She came up to me, gave me a hug and whispered in my ear "I'm the hussy of the family." I loved her instantly.
For Uncle Cooper, it was the first Christmas in our first house. We bought it when E was 2 and I was pregnant with J. By the time Christmas rolled around, we had two little boys and I threw everything I had into making that first house that we owned a home.
Now remember - I love Christmas. It's my favorite holiday. I now spend a day and a half just putting up the tree and decorating it. Making my home full of Christmas cheer is something I love to do. But a decorator I'm not. Back then, decorating was buying things here and there, and getting hand me downs and throwing them together. Most of *my* decorating sense at the time was left over from living with 3 other chicks in my early 20's - which could be called "Party Girl Chic 1988" at best.
That Christmas, Uncle Cooper and Aunt DeDe came by the house after seeing his mother. They live in San Angelo, but drove up to see his mom who lived in Lubbock pretty often. And they always made time to come see us, and they just *adored* E & J. At the time, they didn't have any grandchildren, and I think our boys were substitutes or something. So they dropped by for a visit, and shortly after Cooper came in, he looked around my home, and turned to me and said "Isn't that tree pretty? DeDe, will you look at this house? Boy - this whole room is just great. Mysti - you did a great job."
And with that, Uncle Cooper became family. I was very fond of him before, but that moment of affirmation soothed the soul of this young mom and wife in a way that even I didn't realize I needed. I felt like that maybe, just maybe, I was getting this wife & mom thing done after all.
We had many years with Uncle Cooper. I can still see him watching a little E or J and saying "DeDe, will you look at that?" with boundless pride and love at something they had done, whether it was crawling for the first time (which E did at 8 months at their home in San Angelo) or waving a toy and grinning. Uncle Cooper was as close to a paternal grandfather as my kids will ever have, as MDH's dad passed away before we married. He was a man who loved his wife and daughter, and never said an unkind word to anyone unless it was warranted. And even then he was more likely to keep his counsel I think than to be ugly.
He worked for Santa Fe until his retirement, and then spent his days golfing as well as with the Silver Hair Legislature. And last night, after a battle with leukemia, Uncle Cooper passed away. The world is much sadder place without him. And this morning, my heart is breaking. I know he's in a better place. But I already miss him so.
Please keep DeDe and Denise, his wife and daughter, in your prayers today. And my husband, who was always so close to him. Today will be hard for all of us. This weekend .... well - I just don't think I'm ready to think about it yet.
I still can't believe he's gone.
If you are blessed, some of those new family members take in you into their hearts and love you and you do the same to them. Eventually there comes a day when they are no longer "in-laws" but just family. Beloved family.
I have been blessed. My darling hubby's family is not perfect, and there are those that I'd just as soon never see again, but for the most part, I've grown to love these folks as though I had grown up with them. Even crazy Aunt Dottie. Especially Aunt Dottie - because that girl has some *wild* stories! For each family member, that moment where they became *my* family was different. For Aunt Dottie, it was the first time I met her, the day after MDH's father had passed away (Dottie was his dad's sister). She came up to me, gave me a hug and whispered in my ear "I'm the hussy of the family." I loved her instantly.
For Uncle Cooper, it was the first Christmas in our first house. We bought it when E was 2 and I was pregnant with J. By the time Christmas rolled around, we had two little boys and I threw everything I had into making that first house that we owned a home.
Now remember - I love Christmas. It's my favorite holiday. I now spend a day and a half just putting up the tree and decorating it. Making my home full of Christmas cheer is something I love to do. But a decorator I'm not. Back then, decorating was buying things here and there, and getting hand me downs and throwing them together. Most of *my* decorating sense at the time was left over from living with 3 other chicks in my early 20's - which could be called "Party Girl Chic 1988" at best.
That Christmas, Uncle Cooper and Aunt DeDe came by the house after seeing his mother. They live in San Angelo, but drove up to see his mom who lived in Lubbock pretty often. And they always made time to come see us, and they just *adored* E & J. At the time, they didn't have any grandchildren, and I think our boys were substitutes or something. So they dropped by for a visit, and shortly after Cooper came in, he looked around my home, and turned to me and said "Isn't that tree pretty? DeDe, will you look at this house? Boy - this whole room is just great. Mysti - you did a great job."
And with that, Uncle Cooper became family. I was very fond of him before, but that moment of affirmation soothed the soul of this young mom and wife in a way that even I didn't realize I needed. I felt like that maybe, just maybe, I was getting this wife & mom thing done after all.
We had many years with Uncle Cooper. I can still see him watching a little E or J and saying "DeDe, will you look at that?" with boundless pride and love at something they had done, whether it was crawling for the first time (which E did at 8 months at their home in San Angelo) or waving a toy and grinning. Uncle Cooper was as close to a paternal grandfather as my kids will ever have, as MDH's dad passed away before we married. He was a man who loved his wife and daughter, and never said an unkind word to anyone unless it was warranted. And even then he was more likely to keep his counsel I think than to be ugly.
He worked for Santa Fe until his retirement, and then spent his days golfing as well as with the Silver Hair Legislature. And last night, after a battle with leukemia, Uncle Cooper passed away. The world is much sadder place without him. And this morning, my heart is breaking. I know he's in a better place. But I already miss him so.
Please keep DeDe and Denise, his wife and daughter, in your prayers today. And my husband, who was always so close to him. Today will be hard for all of us. This weekend .... well - I just don't think I'm ready to think about it yet.
I still can't believe he's gone.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Menu Plan Monday - 7/16/07
I missed posting menu plan last week due to some family stress as well my son's birthday, but my mom-in-law is now home, and God willing, her PET scan later this week will be clear enough for them to extract her t-cells. Thanks for all y'all's prayers, and if you could keep 'em coming, that would be great.
Now - for food!
Sunday - Grilled chicken, potato packets, steamed broccoli
Monday - Homemade pizza, salad
Tuesday - Sonic night
Wednesday - Mom's burger stuff, tater tots, green beans
Thursday - Teriyaki chicken, stir fried veggies, rice
Friday - Smorgasbord of leftovers
Saturday - Fried fish, fried taters, shoepeg corn & pea salad
After much effort, we finally got our not-so-easy set pool set up and filled with water. It was lovely for about 3 days. Then, like all pools that haven't been treated, it started to get a bit - discolored. So of course, we tossed in some chlorine. That's what you do with pool water right?
Did you know that water in West Texas - especially well water - has a high metal content? And when that high metal content comes into contact with chlorine, it oxidizes? Yeah - me neither. And oxidized water can turn *colors*! In our case, that color was brown.
Of course, we didn't know that's what was going on at first. We just knew we had brown water. So of course, M runs and buys a ShockIt pack and tosses it in. Then we had REALLY brown water! Or - as our friend Kenny said - it looked as though we would have a nice batch of fudge by morning.
It turns out the trick is to treat the water with something called "Metal Out" which bonds to the metal, and causes it so settle on the bottom. Then you have to vacuum the bottom, then filter the pool for eleventy billion hours, and eventually the water turns clear again.
We've had this pool since before July 4th, and no one has swam in it since July 3rd. Boy - we're getting our money's worth now! In all fairness, I can't blame the kids for not wanting to swim in brown water. Or slightly yellowish water. But if they don't get in pretty soon, I'm going to be forced to shame them into swimming by forcing myself into a suit and getting in. And honestly - is it fair to scare the bunnies and bird on our land like that?
I don't think so either.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
The Big C
It's odd how when a doctor tells you a loved one is in remission, in this day & age, you just take that to mean that everything is going to be ok. That's how we felt back in December. That everything was going to be ok.
Um. Not so much. Last month, during my mom-in-law's 6 month check up, they found 3 new masses. She was admitted to the hospital yesterday to begin a new course of chemo, then they will extract t-cells to re-implant after a 2nd heavy dose of chemotherapy. She is only 60 years old.
She never smoked, although her first husband smoked. She never drank much, although I've seen her have a wine cooler or two at a bbq. She never did recreational drugs, although she has been on various other medications her entire adult life for various emotional issues. In short, she didn't engage in any of the normal risk factors that have been shown to lead to cancer.
Yet she is fighting a particular nasty type of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma anyway. And it irks me.
She's a nice lady. I really do like my mom-in-law for the most part. She lives 4 hours away, but she took me in and treated me like family from the first time my husband took me to meet his family. She's had a rough life at times, and doesn't deserve to be in a fight like this. For her very life. But she is.
And I'm at a loss because I can't just walk away from my job and go take care of her. That's my first reaction. I want to be there in Amarillo. I want to be able to bring her whatever they'll allow her to drink, and hold that goofy little plastic pan they give you to hurl in, and just listen to her talk (because, good Lord love, that woman does love to talk!).
But today is my son's birthday. He turned 14. His party is Thursday - he has waited all year to go see the new Harry Potter movie with his friends, and I can't take that from him. But I am seriously considering taking off work early on Wednesday and driving to Amarillo, even if it's just for a few hours. I don't like her being there alone. Her "friend" can't be there everyday, as he has to work. Her mother is in a nursing home, and I'm not really sure if she really knows how ill her daughter is. Her brothers - well, let's just say they are not there for her. All she really has is us.
I don't know what her prognosis is. The doctors were very vague with my husband and his mother, other than to tell her this t-cell thing has a 35% chance of working.
35%. That's a 65% chance it won't. Having the cancer come back so quickly after her 1st round of treatment is bad. I'm afraid - for her, for my husband. That my kids won't get to know her anymore.
Cancer sucketh. Much.
Add to that - my husband's great-uncle, who is also the godfather of my children, has leukemia. He & his wife, after months of fighting it, have finally called hospice. They took him home. And I don't know how much longer he has. He is another member of M's family that I love dearly. I am so blessed to have married a man with a family who was willing to accept and love me from the minute I met them. I know not everyone has that. The bad side of that is knowing that you might lose them soon - it's an ache I fight every day.
I read the blogs of several young women - women who are just starting their lives, with small children, women whose faith in God astounds me on a daily basis. Heather. Kelli. Amy. I marvel at how they hang onto God's strength - how they use their illness as a way to minister to everyone around them. I wonder if I would have that strength if it were me. Or would I rail against fate, screaming "Why me? ! Why me?!"
I wish I had a point. I wish I had some profound finish. All I have is heartache and dread. And a request. A request that anyone who reads this consider adding my mom-in-law and my great-uncle-in-law to their prayers. Pray for healing, pray for peace, pray for strength. And pray that I'll find some way to be a help to my husband and his family in the days and months (God willing) ahead.
Because right now I feel pretty helpless.
Um. Not so much. Last month, during my mom-in-law's 6 month check up, they found 3 new masses. She was admitted to the hospital yesterday to begin a new course of chemo, then they will extract t-cells to re-implant after a 2nd heavy dose of chemotherapy. She is only 60 years old.
She never smoked, although her first husband smoked. She never drank much, although I've seen her have a wine cooler or two at a bbq. She never did recreational drugs, although she has been on various other medications her entire adult life for various emotional issues. In short, she didn't engage in any of the normal risk factors that have been shown to lead to cancer.
Yet she is fighting a particular nasty type of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma anyway. And it irks me.
She's a nice lady. I really do like my mom-in-law for the most part. She lives 4 hours away, but she took me in and treated me like family from the first time my husband took me to meet his family. She's had a rough life at times, and doesn't deserve to be in a fight like this. For her very life. But she is.
And I'm at a loss because I can't just walk away from my job and go take care of her. That's my first reaction. I want to be there in Amarillo. I want to be able to bring her whatever they'll allow her to drink, and hold that goofy little plastic pan they give you to hurl in, and just listen to her talk (because, good Lord love, that woman does love to talk!).
But today is my son's birthday. He turned 14. His party is Thursday - he has waited all year to go see the new Harry Potter movie with his friends, and I can't take that from him. But I am seriously considering taking off work early on Wednesday and driving to Amarillo, even if it's just for a few hours. I don't like her being there alone. Her "friend" can't be there everyday, as he has to work. Her mother is in a nursing home, and I'm not really sure if she really knows how ill her daughter is. Her brothers - well, let's just say they are not there for her. All she really has is us.
I don't know what her prognosis is. The doctors were very vague with my husband and his mother, other than to tell her this t-cell thing has a 35% chance of working.
35%. That's a 65% chance it won't. Having the cancer come back so quickly after her 1st round of treatment is bad. I'm afraid - for her, for my husband. That my kids won't get to know her anymore.
Cancer sucketh. Much.
Add to that - my husband's great-uncle, who is also the godfather of my children, has leukemia. He & his wife, after months of fighting it, have finally called hospice. They took him home. And I don't know how much longer he has. He is another member of M's family that I love dearly. I am so blessed to have married a man with a family who was willing to accept and love me from the minute I met them. I know not everyone has that. The bad side of that is knowing that you might lose them soon - it's an ache I fight every day.
I read the blogs of several young women - women who are just starting their lives, with small children, women whose faith in God astounds me on a daily basis. Heather. Kelli. Amy. I marvel at how they hang onto God's strength - how they use their illness as a way to minister to everyone around them. I wonder if I would have that strength if it were me. Or would I rail against fate, screaming "Why me? ! Why me?!"
I wish I had a point. I wish I had some profound finish. All I have is heartache and dread. And a request. A request that anyone who reads this consider adding my mom-in-law and my great-uncle-in-law to their prayers. Pray for healing, pray for peace, pray for strength. And pray that I'll find some way to be a help to my husband and his family in the days and months (God willing) ahead.
Because right now I feel pretty helpless.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Menu Plan Monday - 7/2/07 Edition
I seriously need to find more time to blog. All I've blogged lately are menu plans. We've just been so busy working on the landscaping at the new place, and work continues to be a mess. Maybe I'll add a little bit after my menu plan.
Sunday - Chef Salad
Monday - Spaghetti, salad
Tuesday - Sonic night
Wednesday - Fish fry, fried taters, fried okra, fried everything! (pfft. It's a holiday - calories don't count on holidays, right?) And watermelon for desert.
Thursday - Beef tacos, spanish rice, corn
Friday - Smorgasbord night
Saturday - Daddy's choice again - last week it was Pizza Hut. Wonder what he'll come up with this week?
In case anyone wondered, we are now the proud owners of a big ole John Deere tractor and plow. M had to drive the tractor home yesterday since he never could get the guy with a trailer to go out there with him. It only took him 4 hours to drive it out here, which was an hour less than it took him to bring the plow attachment home Saturday hitched to his loaner truck.
I think he's very glad to have that over with. Although we're afraid that the roads between New Deal and Hicksville will never be the same.
He plans on plowing up all of our weeds this week. Which sounds fine and dandy until I realized this means that I'll have 14 acres of dirt surrounding me when he's done. Because we don't have a way to *plant* all the land he's about to plow. If only he had found a shreader for the tractor first.
I meant to share with everyone our adventures in setting up one of those "easy set-up" 4 ft deep pools last week, but work got in the way. For now I'll just say that when they claim that you have to put it on an absolutely level area, they are not kidding. We had just a slight slope on the area we tried to set the pool, and sure enough, when it was about half-way full, the water caused the darn thing to collapse on that end, and it drained itself. I guess that's better than it rippin a hole in itself or something, but it sure made a mess. We have spent the last week trying to level the ground, and after much moving of dirt, last night we laid everything back out and voila.
Now it slopes the other direction. We seriously suck at this.
So tonight we will either pull the tarps back and rake out some of the new dirt, or we'll try putting more dirt on the other end. One way or another, tomorrow we start filling that pool, because we are SO going to have a nice cool pool full of water for the 4th of July y'all.
Even if it means I have to build a dirt wall all the way around the darn thing. Hmph.
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