House-Frau For A Week

I always take the last week of April or the first week of May off from work so I can get projects done around the house.

With the addition of the Springtime rush of garden tasks that needed doing, home cleaning and repairs and just every day cooking and cleaning, I find myself scratching my head wondering how the heck am I going to get all this done in a week. 

It's not the first time have I wished I was a fulltime housewife. 

Oh, I know that I am the wife of this house and this husband, but besides having a fulltime job, taking care of SM and assorted critters AND a garden, I often daydream of what my life would be like as a house-frau. 

As in 24-7 frau-ness. 

To be honest, I don't think I'd get near as much done having every day to myself to outfit the way I want, as opposed to "the hell for leather" push that I make myself go through this time every year.

I can get alot done in a week.  But I wouldn't be anywhere without my list.

I'm a list person.  Lists help keep me on track.  I evaluate each day's weather along with my energy level (which sad to say ebbs and flows with my freakin hormones) and decide how best to tackle the list.

Last Saturday morning I sat in the wee hours of the morning and compiled my list, and stuck it to the fridge. 

Garden Tasks-

Compost/newspaper/straw
Plant tomatoes/peppers and direct sow May plants.
Build cucumber/loofah trellises
Landscaping ties/edge fence line
Lay cardboard/mulch to suppress grass.  (There's a section that we didn't get to yet)

Yard Work-

Clean out shed
Lay fabric and mulch everywhere!
Bleach exterior house
Powerwash deck and stain

Kitchen-

Replace blind (one of the string snapped so I have a miniblind all wonky)
Stain cabinets
Defrost freezer
Make strawberry jam

Laundry Room-

Clean out pantry
Paint cabinet

Misc-

Clean out garage
Wash inside windows
Go look at granite/tile/fixtures for bathroom remodel.

I'm a morning person so I plan on outside work in the morning and inside during the heat of the day.  Quittin time is usually around 2-3 depending.

Wish me luck!

Hello, Charlie

We were out early Sunday morning poking around in the garden.  I can't seem to stay away from it even though there's not all that much happening yet.  The only thing we're eating right now is lettuce.  I'm itching to start planting, itching to get going.  I want some fresh veggie's NOW.

Anyway, SM and I were talking about this and that, he with a cup of coffee in hand.  Me?  I'd already consumed my daily dose of Diet Mt Dew.  I noticed the PVC piping for the hoop was still up.

"Well, I guess we're done with any frost risk.  Might as well take these down."  I said yanking on one of the ends. 

It pulled up easily as did all the rest of them except one end.  I strained to yank it out but it wasn't going anywhere.  I asked SM to give it a try.  Nope.  SM said he needed to loosen the screw that held the strap in place.  Which he did.  And as he walked the PVC pipe over to me I said  "Thanks, Charlie!"

"Who's Charlie?"  SM asked

"Charlie's my yard bitch."  I said with a grin.  

SM laughed.

"You know, like James is my driver.  Home James."  I continued.

Later that morning, we decided to head over to Walmart mostly because I needed yard staples to hold down the fabric before mulching and also because I wanted to make SM an Italian Pasta Salad.  And I wanted some shrooms, broccoli and cauliflower and shredded Parmesan cheese for it.

We grabbed a cart and headed over to the garden section.  I made a grab for several of the 40 pack size while SM grabbed the 10 pack of staples.

"How many of these things do you need?"  He asked quizzing me.

"Why do I have to explain everything 5 times?"  I asked exasperated.  "Didn't you see that huge roll of fabric I bought at Sams Club the other day?  250 feet of fabric!  Didn't we just spread out a little, bitty patch of mulch yesterday?  Don't you know how much more work we've still got to do back there?"

"Charlie doesn't like it when you yell."  SM says making me laugh.  "If you're not careful Chuck will come around." 

"Chuck huh?  I'm not afraid of Chuck."  I quip.  "Chuck me?  I ask.

"Chuck you!"  SM replies.

Later that day SM is changing the oil in my Jeep.  "How's it going?" I ask as I survey the situation.

"Charlie says he'll have your Jeep up and running in no time."  SM repiled.

"Charlie huh?  I thought this would be a Chuck job."  I observed.

"Heck no,  Chuck would tell you to go to Jiffy Lube and change your own damn oil."  SM shoots back.

Good thing Chuck doesn't hang out here all that often.

Chuck could get hurt.

Too Hot To Trot

Saturday morning arrived with overcast skies.  TWC showed that the temperature would maybe get into to lower 70's.  Perfect weather for transplanting my long and leggy tomatoes I thought.

I try (if I can) to garden by the moon cycles.  I figure I can use every bit of help I can get.

This past Thursday and Friday were indicated as good planting days so I figured if I planted the tomatoes first thing Saturday morning I'd sort of "piggyback" onto a moon planting day.  That was my rationale anyway.

There was only one hitch in my giddy-up...I needed more compost. 

Tomatoes grow in just about any soil condition so I thought I would grow this years batch of tomatoes in the newly dug strip.  We'd only gotten half of the new strip newspapered and composted last weekend.  And I've got 40 tomatoes to get in the ground.  I planned on using the whole strip for them.

So we needed to get the compost down if the 'maters were going in today.

SM said that if I'd make him pancakes with strawberries (fresh and in-season)and whip cream, he'd run up and get the compost.  DEAL!  Who says you can't have desert for breakfast?  SM said "This is better than IHOP!"  I should think so! 

Anyway, SM comes back with the compost and says "It's steaming." 

I didn't think anything of that comment because the place that we buy our mulch and compost is a huge operation. Acres and acres of processing with these huge yellow earth movers crawling around.  You can see the mountain sized piles of mulch steaming from the road. 

Just like last weekend, I spread out the newspaper and held it in place while SM gently shoveled a pile of compost onto it.  I grabbed and handful to spread it around and yelped "Hey...This is HOT!"

"That's what I told you."  SM says. 

"I didn't think it would be hot!"  I replied.  "Well, crap!  I can't plant the tomatoes in this.  The heat would kill them for sure."  I leaned back on my heels looking up at SM.  "Why don't we go ahead and spread this out for now.  I'll just wait until next weekend to transplant them.  I think they can survive another week indoors."  (BTW, next Saturday, Sunday and Monday are excellent days for planting according to my moon calendar.)

So SM shoveled about 1/2 the load then I took over while he ran into the house to deal with some business.  He came out a bit later and got in the pickup to sweep the last bit out of the bed.

Then we tackled the mulch pile that's been sitting over by the shed for the past 2 months.  The grass around the shed area is a pain to mow so SM weed wacked the grass tight, I sprayed some grass killer...(Yes, I use the stuff when necessary and trust me, it IS necessary)...and I laid fabric while SM shoveled the mulch.

SM was on fire today.  So motivated!  

He went to the big box store to buy some landscaping timbers to "edge" the garden fence line.  We're finding it hard to mow the grass and weed wack around the wire fence line, so we thought if we suppressed the grass and laid a wood edge to it, it might create an easier cleaner line to maintain.  SM then mowed the yard and then tossed a bunch of yard waste from this Springs pruning into a pile and burned it.

I must say it was a very nice fire.  I made SM a Crown and Coke and he got himself a cigar and settled in by the fire.

Good Job Baby!

My Baby Ruth

Last weekend we're out in the garden. 

"What's that?"  SM asks, pointing at the big green cluster bomb beside the lettuce.

"Well, it's broccoli rapini."  I inform him.

"What are you supposed to do with it?  Eat the leaves?"  SM inquires.

"I don't think so.  I think it's supposed to produce something that looks kinda like broccoli but not just in a head.  Kinda like little separate stems."  I dig through the leaves. 

"Nothing yet though."

I've had no luck growing broccoli.  So I thought I'd give the rapini a shot.  These were seeds purchased from Baker Creek that I direct sowed back on March 2nd (!!! REALLY ???) and then let the hoop house do it's thing. 

Anybody grow this stuff?  I googled it and came across this site that explains a bit about growing and harvesting rapini.

Last night SM and I went out again and I dug through the plant to see if anything was happening.

TaDa!  Looks like I've got some rapini starting.  Not much, I'll grant you.   This is the size of my pinkie finger.  Two little stubs.  But it's a start.

I also noticed that the some of the onions are starting to bulb.

How exciting!  This is my first year with onions.

"Are those potatoes?"  SM asks.  I guess he didn't know I'd tossed some in the garden.

"Yep."  I bent over and scattered some more straw on the plants to cover them up.  "Remember that video we watched with that old lady's advice on gardening?"

"Just toss it on the ground and cover it up?"  SM replies. 





Most of you have probably heard of Ruth Stout.  If you haven't, you should check her out.  There used to be a video out there with her talking about her life and how she discovered what she terms as "The No Work Garden."  I tried to find the video we watched a few months ago but there's a copyright claim on it, so the best I can do is offer up a link to a Mother Earth News article on Ruth's process.

Ruth lived to be 96.  Her observations from a lifetime of gardening agree with what many of us are just now discovering.  No-till method with heavy rotting mulch on top (she used straw).  Trying to leave the soil as undisturbed as possible is the best way to go.

This method is what SM and I will be trying to move towards as we build up our own garden over the next few years.  And as back-breaking as it is right now to double dig the ground and shovel compost onto it, we'll be looking forward to the days when the soil is so rich that all we need to do is toss a seed on the ground a kick a little soil on top of it. 

Just like Ruth did.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight

I woke from a deep sleep with all the covers thrown off and heat coming off of me in waves.  I looked up at the clock and just that simple act alone had Casey's tail beating out a greeting. 

2 am. 

I got up, wandered into the kitchen for a cool drink of water and gave the pups a snackie.  I opened the back door to find blessed relief.  Not too cold out, maybe around 60 degrees.  The dogs shot off the porch in search of whatever wild critters lurked in the bushes while I curled my toes over the edge of the porch.  I stood looking up at the night time sky as I plucked my T-shirt off of my skin.  A soft breeze sprang up, gosh that feels nice.

So quiet.  So peaceful.  "Everyone should have a moment like this." I think to myself. 

A sudden flash of light catches my eye and I looked up to see the fading tail of a shooting star. 

"Thank You." I whisper out loud. 

I've always done that.  Say "Thank You" out loud after seeing a shooting star as if God is sending shooting stars just for me alone.  A silent message from the heavens telling me that everything is OK.  

I always feel special after witnessing one.  And for some reason, I think I'll remember this moment for awhile. 

After a day at work, filled with names and faces flashing by...each person given my undivided attention for a time, and yet for some reason I can't really bring any of them to mind right now. 

But this moment, with the soft breeze and the shooting star, this I'll remember for awhile.

Why is that?  What makes one moment more special than another?

Twenty some odd years ago, I remember another moment.  We were sitting around my parents dinner table, just us girls, after a holiday meal.  I can't even remember what holiday it was.  We were talking about this and that and my older sister said to me "You're so lucky!" 

She said it like she was envious of me.

"Luck?  Luck's got nothing to do with it."  I said without thinking.  "I made the right choices that's all.  And I've worked hard for everything I've got."

It was one of those moments that in retrospect I wish I could've taken back.  Filtered my words a bit better.  What I said was true enough, but it came out sounding like I thought that she didn't make the right choices, like she didn't work hard.  Her face fell.  I think I tried to explain myself but she was already past hearing anything I had to say.  I think it was easier for her to think of me as being lucky.  That random luck gave me all the things I had.

That was one of those moments that I won't forget. 

Why is that?  Because she felt bad?  Not really.  I'm sure if I mentioned it to her now, she wouldn't recall it.  But I remember it to this day.

I think it's because, without thinking, I said out loud one of my most basic philosophies. 

Think it through and try to make the right choice.

I'm a thinker.  I'm a doer too, but I try to think ahead and analyze things before I act.  Most times.  And because I make the right choices, my life must seem lucky to some.  I'm happy.  I'm happy in my marriage, my work life...I'm happy in my skin.

Does that make me lucky?  I don't think so.  Luck is for Vegas, for gambling.  Luck is when something falls from the sky and lands in your lap that you didn't ask for.

I'm not a lucky person cause I don't live my life waiting for things to fall in my lap.

I'm a happy person because as I make my way through life, I try to make the right choices for me. 

It's simple really.  I ask to be happy. 

And so I am.

Buy One Get One Free

Beverly over at Bee Haven Acres inspired me to try and root some celery from a store bought plant. 

I'd chopped off the celery stems to use in a potato salad and then plunked the end into some water and lookie there...

Buy one get one free!

SM thinks it's gonna take a LONG time before I get something outta this but I think it's fun to try. I can see it now...A little cluster bomb of little celery plants growing at different stages depending on how often I buy them. 

It's worth a shot!  Way easier than trying to grow from seed!

Pretty Purple Pea Pods

It's the middle of April and my snow peas are finally starting to bloom.

It seems that Mother Nature is back on track.  Even if you tried to rush her, she'll still only give you what you need in the usual cycle of her days.  Not much sooner and not much later than usual.

Some store bought potatoes that were sprouting in my garage were tossed into the garden along with some straw.  They are starting to pop up now.  These are russets.  We'll see what happens.  I'm not expecting much, just experimenting.

I trimmed back the grape vines (as so many of you suggested) and it appears that the grapes will bounce back nicely.

I'm also taking the opportunity to get the tomatoes and the peppers out in the sun and wind.  These should be going into the ground in 2 more weeks or so.

It's funny...March was SO warm that I thought I'd be waaay behind with my planting but April has offered up cool enough weather that now I'm not in any hurry to get things planted. 

At least we're not getting the snow that some of ya'll are getting! 

Hardwood Carpet or Tiles?

As if it isn't bad enough having to deal with the floors you have in your house, when you have a garden, you have to decide what kind of flooring you're willing to deal with outside in the gardens pathways.

We've spent the last two years converting a section of our lawn into a garden.  And gardens need pathways.  Just trying to control the mess my pathway becomes over the year makes me want to pull my hair out.  It takes as much time as the garden itself!  It is not fun.  The grass just WILL NOT DIE!

Grass has to be the cockroach of the gardening world.  Most weeds can be controlled by yanking them out, the exception being the deeply rooted dandelions.  But the grass!!!!  You really just can't kill this stuff. 

Here in NC we've got Bermuda and Kentucky fescue.  The Kentucky is easy enough to deal with but the Bermuda will sit dormant for years just waiting for that moment when the sun hits it and suddenly you've got 10 foot runners through your garden.  These runners make more roots that make more runners.  A never ending cycle.  I think this is why so many of the locals till.  They till once in the Spring so they can get in their garden and plant and after everything is done producing, then they just till it all up in the Fall, weeds and vegetable plants together. 

Maybe it's a girl thing but I like to see a pretty garden with weed free pathways.  Some neatness and thought put into the design of a garden.  It calms me down to see a certain orderliness to the garden.  Oh, I know all bets are off once everything hits maturity with plants growing every which way, but even that controlled chaos can be beautiful.

The only thing I know to do with the Bermuda is to suppress it.  Layers and layers of something that the grass can't get through.  And even then you have to watch it or a grassy patch will sneak up on you after a year or two.  You have to keep piling on the layers every year.  Constant management.

This is what worked for me.  I use layers of overlapping cardboard as a base, then a layer of weed block fabric, then pine bark mulch on top.  Cheap?  No.  But what price do you place on your sanity?

Last year I tossed cardboard everywhere.  It wasn't pretty but worked great at suppressing the grass!  But the problem was that a good thunderstorm or a stiff wind will pick that cardboard up and toss it into your neighbors yard.  So SM and I tossed long, heavy branches from the pear tree we pruned last year and threw them on top of the cardboard to help keep them in place. 

That grew old really quick.  I can't tell you how many times SM and I tripped over or almost twisted an ankle on those branches.  I swore that they would go this year and so they have. 

Saturday morning I went out and bought a couple of yards of pine bark nuggets.  I pulled The Beater around out back and got to work spreading the weed block fabric over the cardboard.

Then I started to spread the mulch.  SM came out to help me from time to time as I would start to peter out.  Just before noon I went and bought another 2 yards.  "You're sure you just don't want to leave this for Monday?"  SM asked.  "He could see that I was getting tired."

"Hey, I may not be strong, but am persistent!"  We're supposed to get some badly needed rain on Sunday and Monday is supposed to be windy.  If it was going to get done this weekend then it had to be today.  And I really wanted this done and behind me!

SM wondered if the acid from the pine bark nuggets would impact the plants.  I don't think so.  I've used PB nuggets for years as a landscaping tool and all those plants are doing just fine.  I've heard that some folks use pine needle "straw" in their gardens as a weed suppressant.  I plan on using regular old straw with newspapers around the plants to try and suppress the grass that's IN the garden itself.

So between the two of us we kicked it out and got it done.  Whew!

It's looking so much better now.  And if there's one less Bermuda runner that I've got to pull than it's well worth the time, effort and money!

You Stupid Idiot

I've mentioned Susan before. 

Susan is my 64 year old fountain of menopausal wisdom friend that I work with from time to time.  She's a Southern lady born and bred from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. 

Susan is semi retired.  She's our go-to-fill-in-girl when we're short handed at work.  Which means she's been on the job a few days more than what she'd like to be lately.

Susan comes in to get away from her retired hubby whom she loves but she admits that if she doesn't get away from him from time to time she's likely to kill him.  (Preach on Sister!)

Anyway, everyone was congregated in my office during a slow afternoon this week and we're "jawing" about what's happening in our lives.  My boss was relating a story of woe from her weekend when I hear Susan say "Why bless your heart." 

My head snapped up and I started laughing.  Everyone looks at me and I say "Isn't that Southern for "You sure are a stupid idiot?""

Susan colors up and and everyone starts laughing.  My boss is laughing the hardest.  "I guess we all know how you think now."  She says.

This got me to thinking about back-handed compliments and regional sayings.

Living in the South for the last 13 years, you have a tendency to pick up on a few phrases that the natives use.  I'd love to be able to say things like "Bless your heart!" but being a displaced Yankee, it just sounds wrong.  Like I'm not part of the club.  But I do love to hear the natives talk "colorful" like that.

So I googled "Southern Phrases" and found this list.  Some of which had me laughing.  I need to learn a few of these...

Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

That’d make a preacher cuss.

That child’s been beat with a big ole ugly stick.

Don’t pee down my back and tell me it’s raining!

On me like stink on a polecat!
 
If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.


And my personal favorite... Well, butter my butt and call me a biscut!

Do ya'll have any favorite local sayings?

SM - Spider Wrangler

The other morning I got in the shower and noticed a spider up on the ceiling in the corner.  Our ceilings are high enough that you just can't swat at it. 

Later I said to SM "Hey, did you see there's a spider in the shower?"

"Yeah." Sm responds.  "It wasn't moving so I figured it was dead."  That's what happens around here.  If it ain't moving it must be dead and some kind of cosmic absorption will happen so we don't have to deal with it.

The next day I go into the bathroom and notice the spider has moved out of the corner but still in the ceiling crack.  Still too high to deal with it. 

But now I know it's alive.

"Itsy, bitsy spider...." I sing to myself in the shower.

Yesterday morning the spider is still on the ceiling but has moved directly over the spot where I stand and transform myself everyday.  You know...the blow dry and plaster station.

But today he's dangling. 

I eyeball him.  His spidey sense must have picked up on my vibe. 

He extends one long, thin creepy leg in acknowledgement.



That's it.  

I march into SM office where he's checking email and say "Hey...That freakin spider is directly over my head.  He's gonna drop down on me for sure if I turn the blow dryer on.  Come in and deal with it.  Kill it or save it I don't care just get him outta there." 

SM is tender hearted when it comes to bugs.  He saves them if he can.

SM comes into the bathroom with a plastic cup and an envelope that has one of our utility bills in it.  He stretches and gently taps the spider onto the envelope and then into the cup.

"Happy now?"  He asks.

"Yes!  Thank you Mr Spider Wrangler."

And all is right with the world.

Men At Work

Is there anything better than a man at work? 

He can be in a suit and tie, scrubs and mask or jeans and a sweaty tee. 

Nothing is better than a man at work. 

Except if he's YOUR man and he's working for YOU.

Spring has hit us hard and fast this year at 500 Dollar Tomato.  So many things to do but the garden always has top priority.   We needed to expand the garden this year, hopefully for the last time.  Expansion equals physical labor and while I may have endurance and persistence on my side, what I do not have is strength.

Period.

I am, my friends, a pussy when it come to physical labor.

All these gardens, these trees, this home...none of it would be here if it wasn't for the one man in my life who listens to what I need and gives it to me.  Mostly because I ask for it and (more astonishingly) because I don't.

He does it because it he knows it's important to me and therefore important to him.  He's invested.

Happy wife?  Happy life.

So the long awaited garden expansion project happened this past weekend.  SM had already "double dug" a new strip of ground a few months ago.  This new patch of clumpy clay now needed to be tilled.

SM rented a Mantis from the local hardware store to do the job.   After lots of kicking and starts and stops due to the grass matting up, SM tamed the beast.

The next day was "move the fence" day.  What a pain in the tukus!

Thankfully the sky was overcast as SM pulled stakes, yanked fencing and pounded the stakes back into their new position.  I helped as much as I could but the simple fact of the matter is that this was man's work.

Once we were attaching the fence it became a team effort with SM stretching the fence and me tapping landscaping staples through the fencing into the cardboard and into the ground.

Have I mentioned before that there is just not enough cardboard in the world?

You can never have enough cardboard.  Or newspaper for that matter.

Monday morning found SM and I again tag-teaming with me trying to hold the newspaper on the ground in a stiff breeze while SM shoveled compost onto the new strip.  The newspaper would act as a bit of a weed and grass suppressant.

"Look at you go Frontier Girl!"  SM says encouragingly.

"Ha!  If I was born in the frontier days I'd be dead by now."  I responded.  "You'd be on your third wife.  And 14th kid.  Plenty of hands to help you on the farm."

"This is a huge-ass garden for just two people."  SM observes, shovel in hand.

"Tell me that after all the plants are up and mature."  I respond.  "And remember, you're looking at two gardens here.  One for Summer, the other one for Spring and Fall (raised beds).

I plan on buying a few loads of pine bark chips and tossing them onto the cardboard to create walkways. 

You can't believe how big it all feels now.


"You rock Squeetie Man."  I raise my hand to give him a high five, which he returns than swats me on the bottom with a "You're welcome.  Now get in there and make me some dinner."

To Live And Let Die

A few days ago we had a very light frost.  We covered what we could and let some things be.  Turns out that even a light frost can set you back.

The grapes are toast.   They had just leafed out about 10 days ago.  Too tender and we did cover them so that was a bit of a surprise!

The rest of the garden survived but we had lots of "landscaped" bushes that were stung.

Crepe myrtles must be a semi-tropical.  They were hit the hardest of all.

The fruit trees did well enough and look... 

I have peaches on my peach stick!

She's A Little Runaway

Yesterday, noonish, I decided to clean the carpets.  SM is sitting out on the back porch still trying to wake up.  He's fuzzy today.  No matter, I've got stuff to do.  A girl with a mission. 

"Just come sit here with me for a little while."  He pats the seat on the swing.  It's a nice 70 degree blue sky day. 

I can see right through him though.  He's trying to suck me into a do nothing day.  Which means if I don't do anything, generally speaking he's off the hook too.  (Tami don't think so...)

"Tempting...but I've got lots of things I wanted to get done today.  Between the walk-a-thon and the grocery shopping, half the day is gone already!"  I say walking back through our open back door.  When the weather's nice it's just easier leaving it open so the beasties came come and go as they please. 

Back to the task at hand.  Carpet cleaning is best done monthly at the very least.  And if you've got critters you need your own carpet cleaner.  Unless you're on the unlimited plan with Stanley Steamer.  Which I am not. 

We bought our first Bissell carpet cleaner years ago with our first dog, Alex.  It lasted long enough to go into the appliance hall of fame and then died.  Nothing lasts forever but we were pleased enough with the product to fork over cash for it's replacement and bought another Bissell.

With beige colored carpeting throughout the house it gets dirty all on it's own.  Toss in 12 canine, 4 feline and 4 human feet tracking in all manner of debris and it's easy to understand why hardwood floors are starting to look better and better.

First, I went and swept up the floors and then went into the spare bathroom (again with this bathroom??) and grabbed the carpet cleaner. 

(*Yes...I'm one of those people.  I can hide all sorts of assorted, bulky crap behind that shower curtain.  What's behind YOUR curtain?)

Anyway, I slide the shower curtain open.  We've got this decorative metal rod with metal thingymebobs that hang the curtain.  It makes a sort of tinkling noise as I slide it.  I grab the cleaner, fill the reservoir with hot water from the tub and splash some concentrated cleaner into it.  Haul it up and out and I'm heading into the living room just as SM is walking into the house.

"THAT's what your doing!" he's laughing.  "You should have seen Ginny run out of the house. Ears back, tail tucked...She just flew by me."  She heard the "tinkling" noise.  That's her signal to RUN! 

"She thought she was going to get a..."  I start.

"Yep, B-A-T-H."  SM replies.  You can't say that word around here, you have to spell it.  Poor thing starts quivering and shaking.

"Where'd she go?"  I ask walking out onto the back porch looking for her.

"Over by the shed."  SM nods his head that-a-way.  "See her?"  The shed is her favorite place to run when it IS bath day.  We can play ring around the rosy there for hours.  A sneak attack is the best approach.

"Oh yeah.  There she is."

And there she stayed until about 4:30 when the dinner bell rang. 

Silly girl!

Who Needs An Alarm Clock?

It's a well know fact that dogs thrive on routine.  And my Three Amigo's have their morning routine down perfect. 

They herd me along as I stumble down the hallway to the kitchen.  They're worse than static cling first thing in the morning.  They expect things to get done in a certain way and in a timely manner. 

Trouble is, Mamma just don't move that fast anymore. 

I used to be the type that could roll out of bed and be instantly awake.  Not so much anymore. 

I turn the kitchen light on and stand there.. blurry, fuzzy and muzzy staring at the sticky note I stuck to the picture over the sink last night that says (in heavy black marker) DEB 8:30. 

(*I do that now...sticky notes that is.  Over the years, I have developed the dreaded CRS disease that comes with age.  Can't Remember Shit for those of you under 30 reading this blog.)

Anyhow, I'm standing there looking at this note remembering that I've got an 8:30 gig this morning with my neighbors Deb and Jean.  Jean is big into charity work and I guess there's some sort of sign up/donation thing that is happening at the local park here in town for some sort of walk-a-thon.   I'm still not sure what it's about or who it benefits but both Deb and Jean called me last night to make sure I'd be over at Deb's at 8:30 to drive over.  Sure.

So I stand there...staring.  Eventually I turn around and find 3 pairs of eyes regarding me.  I stare back.  Ginny's eyes flick from me to the counter where the snackies are and back again to me.  Her pupils are clouding up with cataracts.  "She'll be blind in a few more years." I think to myself.  

Her silvery eyes flick back and forth again. 

This time the message hits.  "Oh!  You want your snackies." 

(I give the dogs a small milkbone in the morning to prevent the "yurps".  Both Ginny and Casey have overactive tummies.  If I don't get them a bit of food in their bellies when they wake up, they "yurp" up that nice yellow bile.  Not something a girl needs to see first thing in the morning.)

Snackies ingested, I walk over to the back door and open it.  "Go outside?"  I ask. 

All three dogs just stand there looking at me like "Why would we go outside in our backyard to do our business?  Aren't you taking us for a walk?"  I close the backdoor.  Fine.  But now you've got to wait for me to take care of my business.

Never get a dog (or a cat) if you like your bathroom privacy.  No such thing.  Closing doors creates scratches and wines which is not desirable when SM is still in sleepyland.  So first Casey comes in and stands there looking at me.  I pat her on the head.  She wanders out.  Then Scooter comes in and jumps up on me to make sure I'm still alive.  I pet him and tell him he's a good boy.  He wanders out.  Ginny on the other hand treats our spare bathroom with a healthy respect.  In her mind it's one of the most evil places on the planet.  It's where she gets her baths and she might hang out at the door, but she rarely comes in.

I start brushing my teeth when I notice that all tree dogs are in the bathroom with me (and this is a small bathroom). 

"Get Out!" I say carefully as I've got toothpaste foam in my mouth.  Instantly tails start wagging, banging into the wall.  "Sssshhh" I say spraying more foam.  Tails start banging more.   Crap!  I rinse quickly, then head into the spare bedroom where I keep my clothes.

Casey jumps up on the bed.  Ginnys at my feet and Scooter is guarding the door.  They assume these positions everyday. Everyday!!  Clothes on, I head down the hallway with Scooter racing ahead, Ginny at my hip and Casey somewhere between the two.

A little more awake now, I make SM's coffee and take my allergy pill.  The dogs hover. 

I walk to the hallway closet to gear up.  Collars are attached.  The ladies stand in certain positions while Scooter runs through their legs with excitement.  Casey jumps up and puts her front legs on my back when I bend over to put my shoes on.  I feel her stretching.

We head out and do 2 miles this morning.  The dogs are fired up.  Spring must have lots of interesting sniffies cause they stop every few yards and then drag me forward to the next one.

Back at home, they patiently wait for me to gear everyone down.  Then they race to the pantry where the food is.

Casey is always there in case I drop some kibble.  I take the food bowls out and start to place them in a certain order and position.

Scooter first, then Ginny, then Casey who is jumping and rearing up like she's My Pretty Pony, she's so excited.

This happens the same way day in and day out, 365 days a year.  Just as I've described it above. 

Except the toothpaste spew. 

That was new today.

Remarkable.

Baby Blues

You may be right.
I may be crazy.
But it just might be a lunatic you're looking for.
Turn out the light,
don't try to save me.
You may be wrong for all I know,
But you may be right.

Billy Joel


When a girl's gotta wear scrubs day in and day out, just where can she find a little bit of fun?  Show off her individuality?

Just glance down at her size 11's that's where.  You can tell a whole lot about a person from their shoes.

I've teased the girls at work that if the power goes off in the building my shoes will glow in the dark and I can lead everyone to safety @;>

At least they're slightly better than the orange and pick tennis shoes SM handed me the other day.  Those would've make me look like a duck.  A duck with very large feet.

What can I say...There's just not enough humor in the world today.  And if I can make a few people smile with my new "baby blues" then that's just fine by me.

America Revealed

Did you watch this yet?  We did last night.



America Revealed by PBS offers up a commentry on the food industry in America.  Fascinating, disturbing...it's worth the 53 minutes of your time.

After you watch it, tell me that you don't feel differently about what you put in your mouth.

You Can't Fool Mother Nature

It's April 12th. 

Our last frost date is April 15th.  

3 more days to go and guess what Mamma N tossed our way?  Yep, frost and freeze warnings for last night and tonight.

It looks like a ghost town around here.

We covered up everything that we felt could get zapped.  Old sheets and towels sure come in handy don't they?  The veggies got covered of course, and the grape vines. 

The fruit trees don't have any blooms on them, just leaves, so SM thought they should be fine.

Several years ago we has a hard freeze that killed back some of the crepe myrtles.  Hopefully this won't be so bad.

Solo Yardwork

I spent Monday doing a bit more yard work. 

SM had a job to go to early so anything that would get done, would only get done if I did it.  So I pulled my motivation together and went dumpster diving for some more cardboard and got lucky and found a few.

I then went and picked up a load of compost.  My normal guy wasn't there to dump it in the pickup.  When I got home the "compost" smelled strongly of cedar cypress and manure.  Puzzled, I scooped some up and spread it.  It was definitely different stuff than what I'd been getting.  Finer and dryer.

It's full on busy season here for gardening and the guy in front of me was also getting compost.  Was it possible they were running out and "making" compost as they went  along?  Probably.  I went ahead and spread it around after laying newspaper to suppress the weeds and grass. 

I told SM later that that might be the last of the "good" compost.  We still need some more to amend the new double dig area.  SM is concerned about the acid it might add to the soil.  I shrugged.  Some organic material is better than no organic material. 

People use leaf mold, pine straw and pine mulch in their gardens all the time.  We'll see.  Fortunately it's just a thin layer on top.

One load was all I had in me.  I considered spreading some of the new cardboard around but I thought I might as well wait until SM and I could tackle repositioning the fence together.  Then I can lay the new cardboard down properly.  Instead, I hopped on the mover and mowed the grass. 

Boy, was I congested afterwards!  I'd even worn a mask!  I am SO over the allergy season.  I can't wait until it dies down and I can spray off the house and patio.  The Jeep needs a good bath inside and out too.  Waste of time to clean it up right now though.  It's covered with sticky granules of pollen.  Yuck!

Sigh...It's so beautiful outside but I can only take a few hours of it before I'm back in the house.  It's such a dud sleeping with the house closed up.