Mindful....

There is something that has been weighing on my mind for quite some time. It started over two years ago when my grandmother was becoming unable to stay alone by herself.

Several family members took turns taking her in their homes or staying with her for a few weeks at a time, to help her with her forgetfulness. She couldn't remember things she had just completed. She couldn't remember if she had bought something and rushed  back to town to buy multiples of what she already had. She would forget if she had taken her medicine and would take more doses than recommended.

She was failing, and eventually she had to be placed in a nursing home so she would have round the clock supervision. When she was here, I was a bit of a basket case. As much as I love, admire, and respect my grandmother, she drove me nuts.

She would ask the same thing over and over. She would ask repeatedly why she was here and to take her home. She would become anxious and frustrated and retreat to her room, only coming out for meals and to use the bathroom.

But most of the time she was up at night. Searching for an over the counter medicine she had become addicted to. It was something she didn't think she could live with out. I would hide it, only to have her searching the cupboards and drawers until she found it. I spent my nights lying in bed listening and when I heard her get up, I was up too, chasing her down and prying the bottle from her hands. It was a nightmare.

It's not something that is going to get better either. She continues to get more and more forgetful. And we all fear the day that she will forget who we are. It may not come to that, but it is a distinct possibility. It's depressing. It's more depressing when I realize that her daughter, my mom, is starting to show some of those characteristics.

She forgets things. They may not seem like big things, but they are starting to be numerous things. It has me worried. It has me worried it's hereditary and she will be just like her mom. The alternative is even worse. Her dad had Alzheimer's. A tall lanky farmer, who could do anything, eventually becoming a shuffling shell of a man who seldom spoke. Once in awhile a smile would come across his face and he would mention something in his low deep voice that took some deciphering to understand what he had said. He passed away at 76, unrecognizable of the man he used to be.

This growing old stuff sucks. I have tried to impress upon my brothers that I can see big changes in mom. I can see her growing forgetfulness. I hear her tell stories that she gets mixed up and  confused about the details. I see her nervousness and growing frustration with small, insignificant things.

She's fine, they always reply. I can't seem to impress upon them that down the road, and quite possibly sooner than any of us expected, there are going to be some big changes. Decisions will have to be made. Acceptance of things beyond our control.

They think I am making much to do about nothing. It seems to be a recurring theme in my family. When there is something that is hard to accept, or a problem that they don't want to face, they pretend it's not there. They get that from mom. She does that quite often. She did that when grandma stayed with one of us. She would make excuses to run errands or wander off to do something that required her "immediate attention". I felt like I got left holding the bag quite a bit in grandma's care.

I think she just couldn't deal with it. It was easier to just ignore the problem. Hoping that somehow if we don't address it, it will resolve it's self on it's own. It seldom does and a person just ends up with additional problems.

There are going to be big changes coming. Maybe not so soon, or maybe sooner than I think. It has me anxious and worried of just what will happen to her or to me.  What have I inherited from my mom and her parents? Will I inherit more from my father's side of the family? Have I inherited dad's problems as well as mom's problems? As I age, will I have good physical health and lose my mind? Or will I have poor health and be sharp as a tac? Which, if given a choice, would I prefer?  Which is the lesser of two evils?

It makes me mindful of my mind, and me telling myself that it will all work out somehow. I guess some things really are genetic.

 

My Five

The picture to the left is of my favorite tree. It's a tree I planted around 20 years ago. It will hopefully still be standing, straight and tall when I am long gone. It isn't my favorite tree because it is the prettiest (though it ranks near or at the top), it is because it is the tree I sit under the most.

I have a small round picnic table with four benches, and at the end of a day outside, or even at the beginning of the day, I like to sit on one of those benches and lean back against the tree and enjoy it's cooling canopy.

I can see all of my backyard from underneath the tree. I can see my garden, most of my flowers, and down the hill from my vantage point. It shades my hostas, bleeding hearts, ferns, and other shade loving plants. It has a special place in my heart.

It is one of my five.

I use to read a column on Omaha, about "My top 5". Five things were listed of what that columnist loved most. Inspired by a blog written by SemisweetSouix on a similiar premise, I thought today would be a good day for a blog of my five. It's Friday after all, and nobody should have to think too hard, or feel to pressured to write something really witty.

I know most list their family, friends, and pets so I am taking them off the list, they are a given. It can be hard to narrow down a list to just five things and for some people they draw an immediate blank. For those taking part in the 30 day blog challenge, I know it may seem like an uphill battle at the moment with the days ahead of us blogging. So feel free to list your favorite five things as well if you are needing an idea or subject for the day.

If you are a music lover, you could list your 5 favorite songs, singers, band. If you like to cook, your 5 favorite dishes. If you are a movie buff, list your favorite 5 movies. If you are an avid reader, 5 favorite books or authors.  If you are a fellow gardener, list your favorite 5 plants (variety names included please, I am anal like that,lol). You get the idea.

My favorite 5 things...

1. My tree of course, and all things garden related.

2. Chocolate, it pretty much ties with #1, but most of you who know me already knew that.

3. Linens and glassware. I have a thing for pretty linens and glassware. I am drawn to them like a magnet but most of the time I end up buying them for gifts instead of keeping them myself. Tablecloths are a particular weakness of mine.

4. House floor plans. I love to look at house floor plans. When I am bored on-line I can be found googling new house plans. However, I am never satisfied with the original plans. I ALWAYS have to reconfigure the floor plan so that it makes more sense to me. At times I wonder if I shouldn't have considered being an architect. It's all that icky math stuff that nixes that idea.

5. Anything art related. I like to draw, to paint, do pottery, and all of that other creative stuff that keeps my hands occupied. I don't do as much as I use to but that needs to change. I need to just find a space and designate it just for that purpose.

So there you have it, from the top of my head without a lot of thinking. My five.

What's yours

Easy Entertainment...

It's hot...

It's beyond hot, it's freaking hot, hot and the humidity isn't helping.

I have been running from air conditioned space to the next air conditioned space with out dawdling in the outdoors much. It's the kind of weather that is great for corn, but not so great for wimpy people.

I am a wimpy person.

This morning as I read the news on-line and a few blogs, I couldn't help but think what would I do without the computer? How in the world did I do without a computer before? It has become my main source of information, connectivity, and entertainment.

It entertains me a lot, so much so, that I wonder if I even really need a tv. Of the hundreds of channels that are available for the consumer today, there still never seems to be a whole heck of a lot on worth watching. There is only a couple of shows that I make any effort to remember when they are broadcast.

A far cry from back in the day when I was a kid. It seemed as kids, we were always surrounded around the boob tube at night. Some of my fondest memories are late Saturday nights, staying up past midnight to watch Dr. SanGuinary out of Omaha. He hosted Creature Feature that showed all kinds of vintage horror movies. I was privy to the cinematic masterpieces of "Godzilla", "Mothra", "Night of the Lepus", "Them", and other assorted black and white "B" movies.

I would camp out in the living room on a blanket with popcorn and my brothers and I would wait, and wait forever for midnight to arrive for our Saturday night dose of Dr. SanGuinary. Sunday nights would bring Marlin Perkins and Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom", always followed by Disney.

I don't know of many nights that the whole family did not surround the tv, especially when dad was home. He loved tv. He had his favorite chair, and once he was home from work, all of his work ceased and the tv was his entertainment of choice, and we were his channel changers.

The channels were fewer then. We only had channels 3,6,7,10, and sometimes PBS on channel 12 if it decided to come in. We were content with our limited channel selections. We made do with what we had, and it seemed we always found something to entertain us.

Maybe we were just easy to entertain back then? We didn't need a lot of choice, or maybe we were just happy to have a choice.

I remember my great grandparents in their tiny house with their tiny black and white tv. They didn't watch a lot of tv, but there was one show that my great grandmother in particular was fond of. They would go to bed early at night and set their alarm so they could get back up late at night to watch AWA out of Omaha.

Yes, my great grandparents were closet wrestling fanatics. Back in the day before cage matches, and ultimate fighting, they watched Baron "the claw" Von Raschke, and "Mad Dog" Vachon in their bouts for the title. I don't know what it was about grown men in tight trunks and laced up boots writhing in headlocks and arm pins, but it kept them captivated.

Today has me thinking of being easily entertained while hibernating in the a/c. Though my tastes have grown and evolved as I have gotten older, there is still a part of me that yearns for that excited feeling of sitting down for a much anticipated show or movie as in my childhood. It has me thinking of Dr. SanGuinary, Marlin, and The Baron, and wishing they were still here to entertain me.

 

 

Round 2....

It takes a village.

At least it seemed like it today, on round 2 of attempting to get the cat to the vets for her update on booster shots and her haircut.

The day started early, way, way too early with me tossing and turning all night and finally getting up at a little before 5 to try to coax the cat into her carrier for the trip.

I tried to be clever. I tried all of the suggestions left for me on the last blog I wrote of the trying to corral the kitty.

A pillowcase was too small, so taking  the drawstring liner from a wicker laundry basket, several tries to just "scoop" up the cat were to no avail. The cat was too skittish at even seeing anything in my hands that didn't involve her breakfast.

She was hungry, she was angry, she wasn't suppose to eat anything overnight because of the having to be sedated today. She stood defiantly in front of the fridge despite all my soft cooing, and praises for being a good kitty.

She was on to me.

I went out the night before and picked some catmint. I put it in a small plastic bag in the fridge, thinking this was literally going to be in the bag. I was left holding the bag, as the cat sniffed the stuff and tried to bite my hand. I tried tying a small bundle to the end of an old shoestring and strung it in her carrier, pulling the end of the string thru a small vent hole in the back. She watched, sniffed and walked off.

I threw away the catmint.

I stuck with the shoestring and coaxed her into  playing with me, chasing it as it danced across the floor in front of the carrier. She sat on top of the carrier again and patted it but refused to go anywhere near the opening of the carrier.

I was getting peeved. My soft cooing and "nice kitty" comments were starting to turn into whining, "why can't you be good" comments. I got frustrated and logged on-line and read a bit on-line while keeping one eye on the cat, while trying to coax her closer with the shoestring.

Seven a.m. arrived and I was getting desperate. She had to be at the vets by 8:30a.m. I called in reinforcements. My mom was here, a neighbor was here, I was here. All of us for a little fur ball of pure evil, called "Stink Pot". My mom tried chasing, I tried playing, then we tried turkey bribery, nothing would convince the cat to cooperate. 

My neighbor brought over a live animal trap he had constructed years ago. One look at the cat and he mumbled, "she's too fat". My pampered pet was too big to fit in the wooden structure. My neighbor, being the brave soul that he is, returned wearing a heavy leather coat, and leather welding gloves. With a deep breath he entered the bathroom where the cat had holed up and closed the door behind him. With a commotion one can only imagine, he emerged with mutters of, "she's NOT a happy cat".

As I looked him over, looking for any missing limbs or blood from gushing sliced arteries, I was relieved to find my neighbor all in one piece and the cat secured in her carrier. Deathly looks and growls emitting from her, for all of us.

I am happy to report the cat made it to the vet's, and is now back home, a bit more subdued and a lot less furry.

It's been a stressful day for all involved, and her haircut couldn't have come at a better time. It was a scorcher today, with temps topping out over 100.

It has me thinking I am do for a haircut too. No leather coat and welding gloves needed though, I will go along quite peacefully. I promise.

it

A Blog of Fluff and Stuff..

 

Today I though I would make an easy blog. A blog of fluff and stuff that didn't ramble on forever and overwhelm some of you with it's wordiness. I have noticed that so far my blogs have been rather longish and that nobody likes to hear someone go on and on, and on.

So today I took the camera and snapped a few pics outside of things that caught my eye. I wasn't out there long though as my batteries were near the end of their charge. I was lucky enough to capture a pic of  my neighbors. Well, two of my neighbors, that were out again in the sunshine. It amazes me they seem to be so nonplussed about being so out in the open in the middle of the morning. I am guessing they either don't feel threatened by my presence, or they had a case of the munchies and were off to look for a snack.

 

(Liatris, looking rather like a Dr. Seuss imagined flower)

 

(An ant's work is never done. Strolling on some sedum)

 

 

(An unknown variety of daylily, blooming quite happily despite the heat)

 

(A feeling mellow yellow daylily blooming like gangbusters)

 

(Forget the carriage, this Cinderella is waiting on pumpkins for pumpkin pie)

 

(A gourd house given to me by "Captain Morgan"...a shy Jenny Wren has taken up residence)

 

(Yucca seed pods from the spent blooms - wish I had got a pic of their white spires earlier)

 

(Two of the foxes...the blurry bits of the pic are some baby's breath type blooms that I had to "zoom" thru in order to take the pics without startling the foxes).

 

 

Happy blogging peeps and remember that a blog doesn't have to be several paragraphs and something serious and thought provoking. It can be something simple..and fluffy. Because even the fluff says something about you.

I See You....

I am being followed.

I am pretty sure it's not my imagination either. It happens every time I log on-line. I see it at almost every webpage. It doesn't even try to hide it's spying ways. It's right there, right there in front of me with it's big "f" on a blue square.

Facebook is following me. Even when I am not logged into facebook, there it is. Taunting me, suggesting to me, that I tell the world where I have been.

Like a link, suggest a website, tell the fb world I read an article. It's there constantly just a click away wanting to spy on me and let the world join in.

It makes me nervous. I makes me think that fb already knows where I have been, no matter if I have logged in or not.

Do a websearch. Suddenly you find all kinds of ads on your facebook wall for those very things you searched for. Visit a webpage, find that ad for that webpage on your fb wall. It's getting kinda creepy.

The whole world is getting kinda creepy. It's starting to feel less and less private. You can't make a move without someone knowing about it.

Your cellphone keeps track of you. Your computer keeps track of you. The government keeps track of you, and I can only see it getting worse. I am starting to understand more and more why some people want to go off grid. Not because they are extremist, but because they want to be able to have privacy in their own home. Because they want to step outside and not worry that if they fall down, a dozen cellphones will be whipped out and a picture taken of you and uploaded to Youtube before someone even considers reaching a hand out to help you back up.

Let's face it, our privacy has become a way of entertainment. The world is agog with curiosity of what people are doing. It's in our face every day in newspapers, magazines, on the tv. Such and such had a baby. So and so bought a big fancy residence. Horror of all horrors, a certain someone was spotted out on the town with another certain someone going to dinner.

Privacy is becoming a thing of the past, it's no longer respected. By the media, the government, or your very neighbors.

I have complained about my neighbors before. I don't like them. I haven't since the day they moved in. And it's not because they don't keep their yard up. They do, they have a very nice yard. It's not because they throw wild parties, they don't. They have been known to yell at each other a time or two, but nothing that most married coupled don't do on occasion. I don't like them because they are nosey.

They make sad, pathetic attempts to pretend they are doing something while rubbernecking over my way. They move to other parts of their yard to get a better vantage point. They will get in their vehicle and drive around the block if they can't see well enough. I am not the only object of their interest, they spy on their other neighbor as well. They are not retired. They have things to occupy their time. But their greatest interest seems to be knowing what the rest of the world is doing. Something that even after a lot of time, doesn't' seem to help in squelching their interests. They are as nosy today as they were the day they moved in several years ago. There is nothing I can do about it either, other than to put in a taller fence, which I consider often..really, really often.

I read an article that had a video of a kid that was home alone and 3 burglars broke in and he was under the bed on the phone with 911. Poor brave kid. The article and video of the actual 911 call thankfully ended well. But two things ran thru my head when I first watched and listened to that video. First, why in the heck was a little kid left home alone even if the parents were going to be gone a few minutes? Secondly, why are we privy to anyone's 911 calls?

I think that is an invasion of privacy. How is it that our 911 calls can be posted and made public to anyone? I think they should remain private. What possible reason could there be to make them public to the news media, other than to be for entertainment curiosity? I can understand them being used in court to solidify a court case, but really..do the rest of us need to know how scared someone was? How petrified and alone they felt? I don't think so, but that is my opinion.

I believe it was just last year, that there was a big controversy about a rental chain that had installed spy ware on their rented out computers. The computers literally took pics of the users. They were being spied on by video, far beyond just the computer's stored history. Boy, that really makes you think.

Computers that spy on you. Cellphones that track your every movement. Government drones that patrol your airspace. Telemarketers that routinely dial your home phone to find out when you are there or not. It seems like privacy lines are being crossed constantly.

Some will argue that if you have nothing to hide, there should be no problem. I don't think I have anything to hide. Well anything to hide of importance. I would prefer the world didn't know every article I read on line. I read my local paper, I read about the weather on weather.com, I read the blogs, check my e-mail, some days check my horoscope. I even (whispers) read dear Abby when I am bored. It's not just something I feel the need to announce to the world though.

I want to be able to visit Walmart and not be afraid that I end up on the People of Walmart webpage. It's not that I go out in public looking like a derelict, but there are days when I have to make a run to the store. Days where I feel and look like crap and don't want to see a pic of me with bloodshot eyes, post nasal drip, and raccoon eyes because my mascara ran from all my sneezing and watery eyes.

I want to be able to go out in public and not be afraid to trip and fall and the rest of the world knowing about my clumsiness. I want to be able to search on-line for pink razzle dazzle sparkley sneakers without the internet thinking I am an 8 year old kid. I want to be able to step out in my backyard without feeling beady eyes watching every step I take with the string trimmer.

I want to be able to feel free to be me without feeling self-conscious when I do something stupid. I want the security of knowing that my life is not an open book for everyone. I want the world to back off a little. I want a little privacy. It's beginning to seem like it is an awful lot to ask.

 

Boxed Poo...

This morning I found myself digging in a box of gardening things in search of something I got quite some time ago as a gift for Christmas.

I had forgotten I even had it, until I was reading the blogs yesterday and read a comment on Yetanotherguy's blog. I am not sure what the original comment was exactly, but it was about boxed up "poo". I had to respond back with a comment that I did indeed have boxed up poo.

That is something most people won't normally admit to. I have a box of poo, let alone tell the world you got it for Christmas one year from your sister-in-law. Most would think my sister-in-law was trying to tell me something by that gift choice, but knowing my sister-in-law better, I know she bought it for the humor and because I like to garden.

Several of you will remember my past blog on asking for bags of compost/manure mix for my birthday. I was surprised that I was not alone in asking for poo as a present. Anyone who gardens though, knows we are a weird bunch, and it's the small things that make us happy.

My gift of Christmas poo is an old gift though. I am not sure how many Christmases ago that I got it. It has remained in the bottom of a box of garden paraphernalia for ages. So long in fact, I doubt my poo has much power. My poo is old, and I half way expected to come across it in it's box, just a powdery dust of "used to be poo".

But there it was, still in it's box, wrapped in cellophane, my rabbit shaped poo. The poo was designed to be pretty in a planter, not at all what one would imagine when thinking of boxed up poo. The makers of the formed poo are "ZOO DOO". I am not even sure if the company is still around. But the premise is, that the poo, is zoo recycled animal waste is made into something that every gardener will love. And you will be glad to know, that according to the box, there are many styles and other gifts available too. That it is "positively doolightful".

It's cute. It's funny. It's kinda expensive when compared to just regular bagged poo. The practical side of me can only mentally calculate how much of the real poo I could have gotten for the price of the pretty stuff. 

So I googled a bit for the ZooDoo and it's kinda hard to find. Now I am sorta regretting opening up my boxed up rabbit shaped poo and sticking it in my planter this morning. I am now wondering if I shouldn't have kept my neatly packaged poo as some sort of investment. What if some day it is worth something? Surely it will become a collector's item. If they can sell potato chips or chicken nuggets shaped like George Washington surely a box of rabbit formed zoo doo in it's original packaging could be worth a small fortune.

I know I am going to regret unpacking my poo. I just wasn't thinking. I should have hoarded my poo and let it's value increase. Darn the luck, I was just too intent on blogging today to know the value of boxed poo...

 

 

 

A Hair Story and Other Traumas...

It has turned into a rainy, stormy day today and my original idea of walking around posting pics of what I saw for the day had to be nixed. The storm clouds have parted for a bit and the sun is trying to come out but more storms and rain are in the forcast and if I am being truthful, I am feeling a bit on the lazy side today.

I have enjoyed reading all of the blogs so many of you have been posting and have found myself lurking on people's pages that I hadn't known about before until finding them on other people's blogs. So thank you to those that have joined in the 30 day blog challenge and a special thanks for all the smiles and giggles.

Reading some of those blogs this morning got me to thinking how things are viewed from different perspectives, and how those perspectives change as we get older. When we are younger those perspectives we form seem to be so much more influenced by what we experience than as we age.

Chatting with my mom the other day we somehow got on the subject of my childhood and how I and each of my brothers all turned out so vastly different. I am not sure why that is other than genetics of course, and how two people can experience the same thing and come away from it with a different view of what originally happened.

When my twin brother was back last year, I listened to him tell a tale of something that happened when we were youngsters and it floored me to hear him have details so different from what I remember. Chatting with my mom later I asked her if she remembered things happening that way. She said no and that what she remembered was closer to my observation.

It had me wondering if while we are kids our imaginations somehow weave their way into our life experiences and color the whole picture so we are left with something that isn't black, white, or grey. That our minds somehow trick us into thinking something happened but never did.

Or I could be totally wrong and just have a twin bro that is a bit of a wind bag and each time he tells a story it gets bigger and bigger. Yeah, I can type stuff like that since he isn't privy to my blog (grin). I can't really blame him if that is the case, it's in his genetics, something he most assuredly got from dad's side of the family.

Somehow my Mom and my conversation turned to hair, coloring, styles, etc. and I mentioned my kindergarten class pic with my awful looking hair. The first words out of her mouth were, "oh, but it was so cute"....."Cute!" I cried, "it was traumatic". My mom only giggled, something moms do when they know they are responsible for that fiasco.

I don't know what in the world possessed my mom to tease and back comb and tease some more, my hair into a big bouffant. It had bangs, and a bow, and she curled the ends out in some sort of a flip thingy. I just remember the pulling,tugging, combing, and the cloud of hair spray fumes before I was declared ready to go to school on picture day.

I walked with my neck held stiffly. My head felt funny. I was afraid that any sudden movements might cause my hair to collapse, my neck to snap, or some other sort of major catastrophe. Upon arriving at school, my real insecurities kicked in. I tried to quietly remain in a corner out of view, hoping and praying that nobody would notice. That nobody would notice the first thing I noticed when I got to school that morning.

My hair was styled the same way as the teachers. I had...."old people's hair". Now I am sure my teacher wasn't really that old, but in the eyes of 5 year old, all adults are old. I had old people's hair and I was afraid the rest of the class could see it too.

When it came time for the class picture we were arranged on the aluminum bleacher type steps and I was instructed by the teacher to stand in the back row. I was sure it was because of my big hair. My big tall hair, that they wouldn't be able to see past. It never dawned on me as a child we could have been arranged alphabetically. I was sure it was because of my big tall old people's hair.

I read Sharon's blog this morning about going to her daughter and grand daughter's dance programs. Most kids love to dance. Most kids are not self conscious and dance like nobody is looking. I was not one of those kids.

It was another of those ideas of my mom that all girls should take dance lessons. It may have been her pathetic attempt to have a girl who liked girly things. Surrounded by boys, I am sure she thought it was her only chance to have a girl who she could bond with over clothes, and make-up, shoes, and all things girl-like.

I sucked at dance class. I have blogged before of the horror of being dressed as a giant yellow lollipop, tap dancing across the stage to the songs of Shirley Temple. I was not coordinated, I was not outgoing and could dance like nobody was looking. I just wasn't cut out for tap dancing. I just don't think I was cut out for anything that required coordination.

One of the things we had to do in dance class was also some acrobatic moves. Each student was to somersault all the way across the floor matt to the other side of the room. Not so hard you would think. I don't know why it was so difficult for me, but it was a catastrophe.

I would somersault once, somersault twice and somehow end off on the side of the matt, on the wooden floor. I couldn't somersault a straight line. It continued all the way across the room. Somersault, somersault, fall off the matt. Get up and walk back over to it, or crawl my way back and somersault again. I don't know how long it took, but it seemed like forever. Even worse when the whole class knows your somersault shame. I haven't somersaulted again to this day.

Silly stupid stuff like that, stays with you when you are a kid. It continues with you as you grow older. Things like learning your teacher isn't really leaving the room to make important phone calls or do important teacher things, but to go to the office to smoke. Things like catching bugs for your required insect bug collection, only to drop it while getting off the bus while on your way to school. Things like being called to the front of the class to solve a problem the teacher had been discussing while you had been doodling on your desk trying to look busy. Things like throwing a baby shower for a pregnant classmate because nobody else was going to. Things like finding out one of your best friends was gay and died of aids before you could see them again at a class reunion. All kinds of things stick with you when are a kid. They make the biggest impressions on you.

I feel sorry for the kids of today. They are bombarded with so much, that those things don't have a chance to make an impression on them. Those numerous things that just seem to make them immune or oblivious to the important things of the world around them. They develop a shell of indifference, a barrier to the constant onslaught from the world.

I think we should make more of an effort to realize the impact things have when someone is so young. I think we should just stop making kids into adults before their time. I think we shouldn't expect kids to make more mature decisions than we make ourselves. I think bouffant hairstyles and somersaults should not be attempted by anyone without some sort of warning or caution. No matter how good of an idea it sounded to mom or dad at the time...

On and Off, and the Confusion Between the Two...

Adjust vent cap, screwing knob one, to one and a half rotations before starting.

Press button on.

Push choke lever to "run" position.

Press primer bulb 5 times.

Push choke lever down to choke position.

Grab cord handle firmly and pull til feeling some resistance slowly, and then pull firmly while holding down throttle level on handle.

Repeat til engine appears to start and move choke level into "run" position. See manual for additional information if engine fails to start.

Sounds easy enough doesn't it? I have to admit that there are times I always seem to skip a step. It never fails that at least once or twice every season I have problems starting the mini cultivator or the string trimmer. I will yank, and yank on the pull cord. Mumble a few incoherent words and grunts. Wait a minute, and yank some more. I then push it aside with more mumbles of "it is probably flooded" and let it set for a few minutes before trying one more time. By the time I have exhausted my arm yanking power and am out of the mood to do the work, I notice I have skipped step 2. Yes, the easiest most obvious step of the whole instruction book....Turn it on.

I'd like to blame it on today's manufacturers. The constantly are trying to improve products, claiming more ease for the homeowner. It all sounds nice, but I have come to the conclusion that added steps add more confusion. Yes, pressing an "On" button is confusing for this home owner.

In my defense my old tiller never had an "on" button. My old string trimmer never had an "on" button. The both just had a throttle and a choke button and there was no need for much else. 

I LOVED my old tiller and string trimmer. I had them for years, they were like old friends. Dependable, broken in, no worries, so easy. They died on me though. They fell apart and left me having to search for replacements. 

I searched and searched for my old models. They had been phased out, newer updated models taking their place. Models with extra steps and "on" buttons.

I hate "on" buttons. They are confusing! When there is a button that has a "0" on one side and a "___" on the other, which is the "on" and which is the "off"? The "0" can stand for "ON" or "OFF". And that stupid line, does that mean it's running or does it mean it's cut off? I can never remember. I have to recheck the manual at least twice each season to remind myself just which is which. Whatever happened to just using the words, on and off? The choke lever is almost as bad with more lines used to determine the choke position. 

I blame it on China. I blame it on them not knowing English and that manufacturers are using lines to stand in for words. Less mistakes on their end, if there are just lines. I hate lines.

In fact I hate shopping for new tools and garden equipment when something breaks. I am always frustrated and cranky by the time I get home. I grumble and complain about the lack of quality steel tools. I hate the sticker shock of a spade having a 60 dollar and up price tag. I hate painted cheap metal tools that can't seem to hold a sharp edge for me. I hate tools that are spot welded instead of constructed of one piece. I hate new and improved which has come to mean cheap and cheaper, except for your wallet.

Today I had planned on doing some string trimming but the grass is wet. I may do it later this morning if the grass dries and it doesn't get too hot too quickly. First though I will have to hunt down the manual again. It's that "0" and "____" thing again. I think I have a mental block. I just can't ever seem to remember. I think while I am at it, I will look for a magic marker so I can write the words on the little button.

It will be easier for me....easier than an "0" and a "___"

 

Out My Front Door...

How many times do we go out our front door every day, and pay little attention to what we see? I know we see the same thing thousands of times and we ignore it for the most part, knowing it never changes. I thought about that the other day when out taking pics that it might be a neat idea to have everyone post on a blog one day on what they see when they open up their front door every day.

I tend to ignore what I see most of the time while in pursuit of my original premise for stepping outside. Part of why I ignore what I see first thing stepping out the front door is a project that I keep putting off. Just outside the front door is the concrete drive and then a set of steps that lead up into the front yard which has a large kettle. I got the kettle years ago at an auction and it's original purpose was for processing hogs while butchering. However when I spied it, my immediate thought was for a planter. After it was put in place, nothing has changed much about it except for the replanting of annual flowers every year.

It's due for an overhaul though as you can tell by the pic it has sunk on one side and appears lopsided. Underneath the kettle was an old stump, that at the time, I thought would be smart to place the kettle on and mulch with lava rock surrounded by the railroad ties. It seemed like a good at the time, which is something I find myself saying a lot. In fact I think I can claim that for most of the 1980's.

The stump, however, has rotted over time as well as the old railroad ties. And lava rock, which was so popular and all the rage years ago, is a bit out of place now. It all needs to be replaced or re-landscaped with something that works better for the area.

I keep putting the project off though. It is going to take some work to dig out all of the dirt and drainage rocks in the bottom of the kettle. It is heavy, really too heavy to move easily on my own. Part of the reason for putting off the project, other than the hard work involved, is that my visions of how to redo or remodel the area is a bit beyond my scope of expertise. I want to put in pavers from the top of the steps, thru the arch into a circular path around the kettle that eventually could meander off into the yard to a birdbath with a new flower bed there as well.

It's a big project, which is why it isn't started yet. It won't be started this year, with my excuse being I can't disturb my few handfulls of annual flowers in the kettle. Even though I have big plans on what I would LIKE to do, I know that those plans most likely will be edited to something simpler, maybe even into something that doesn't even involve pavers but just having the kettle leveled with a smaller circular flower bed around it.That is the thing about a garden, it never stays the same. At least it doesn't for me, except when I procrastinate. It's something that I will continue to think about, and ignore while going out my front door.

 

Cat 1, Owner 0...

I have been dreading today all week. I knew it would be a difficult day and it always makes me anxious and unsettled until the day is over. I always imagine all of the things that can go wrong, and even though it is a necessity, I would prefer that it didn't have to be done.

Today was the cat's annual foray to the vet's for her update on shots and to get her yearly haircut. Well it was suppose to be the day. The cat evidently had other plans.

It's always hard to get the cat to do anything I want her to do. It is that way with most cats, but some cats, my cat in particular lives up to her name of being a Stink Pot when she doesn't want to do something.

I spent all morning, or a good part of the wee hours in the early morning trying to get the cat in the pet carrier for the short trip to the vets. You would think it would be easy, pick up the cat, and insert. An open and shut case, or carrier. Not so easy when it comes to a cat with so many issues. A cat that does not like being picked up, held, or petted unless it is her idea.

She has always been that way. She never was a cuddly kitten. She would hiss and spit and growl when she felt her space was encroached upon. She still does. She has airs, she has attitude, she has really sharp claws.

I did my best to coax her. I threw her favorite toy, twist ties, in the carrier for her to chase inside. I strung an old shoe lace thru one of the vent holes and drug it back and forth trying to gain her attention. She watched. She patted the door. She sat on top of it and hung her head over and looked inside the carrier and sprawled out. I begged, I pleaded, I whined. She looked bored.

In desperation I tried one bite of cat food on a plastic lid placed inside the carrier. She wasn't suppose to eat before her anesthesia, but I was desperate. She refused. She walked off. She was having no part of it. It went on, for almost 2 hours. She would not budge an inch, even when I tried to shove her inside when she wasn't looking. She wouldn't budge.

I think there is some truth to the saying that dogs adore you and cats ignore you. At least mine is trying her best to adhere to that notion. She never bonded with anyone except for me. And I don't know how much of a bond I can call it. She will jump in my lap and does her best to PRETEND to be a good kitty. She will purr, she will knead her little paws, she will lay her head back and look at me with half closed eyes and appear content...for five minutes. And then it is if a switch is flipped and she will swat at my hand for some annoying imagined slight and hop down. I will then be ignored until it is lunch time, dinner time, snack time, feed me time which is every time I step into the kitchen.

For all of her independence she is a needy cat. She doesn't like to be alone in a room by herself. Closed bedroom or bathroom doors are not allowed. She will meow, push, and hurtle herself at a closed door until it is open. That could be a part of the problem, I don't know. All I know is that I have to do it all over again for her newly rescheduled appointment next week.....(sigh)

(Hopefully next Wednesday there will be some "after" photos of her new haircut...for now, there is just the "before" pic)

 

(when she was just a baby kitten, barely bigger than the computer mouse on the blue mouse pad).....

 

 

 

 

In the Dark....and Some Pics.

We have all had that moment, or most of us have, when we find ourselves waking up suddenly in the middle of the night wondering what it was that woke us up.

Last night I woke up with a start to realize I was in the dark. Yeah, I know that sounds a bit like a no brainer, but it was the sound of silence that drug me from my sleep when the electricity went off, and most importantly...the air conditioner.

It took me a moment to realize why it was so quiet and then the panic set in. You would have thought I was locked in solitary confinement with limited air time. My mind raced, air...I need air. I am gonna melt if I don't have air. I fumbled for the windows and pushed them up and felt the hot muggy breeze filter in. Deep breaths...deep breaths...ugh, it's gonna get hot my mind cried. 

As I tried to lie there quietly, not moving, worried I would somehow smother or melt in the quiet darkness, I listened to the sound of the wind outside my window. In the darkness I could hear the rustle of the leaves against each other. The quiet sounds of traffic muffled by their distance. There was a rumble, a low deep rumble that grew as it came closer and the familiar sound of a train, blowing it's whistle each time it passed across a gravel country road. I listened until I couldn't hear it any longer. Some sort of bird, I am not sure what kind (Vero would know though, Vero knows everything). I just know it wasn't an owl. It was calling to it's mate or it was just making it's own little sound to verify to it's self it was there. Sometimes it's comforting to hear the sound of another voice, and it must be the same for animals as well.

It's amazing what all you can hear in the dark. I heard some rustling in the bushes, a sniffing and snorting like some wild animal was going to come thru my window at any moment. I wasn't afraid though. I knew it was the neighbors dog that makes her nightly rounds looking for rabbits to chase.

Everything seems so much more intense in the dark. Things are really, really dark in the dark. It's just you and the moon, if it should happen to be peeking out from behind a cloud.

It couldn't have been long. Ten, fifteen minutes at the most of my total blackout. And then I heard the whirl of the a/c kick back on, saw the glowing, blinking numbers from the digital clock, and it was almost with some regret that I closed my windows back up. One misses so much while one sleeps in the dark.

 

 

(A few blooms while out and about early this morning.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

30 Days...

 

Today promises to be a hot one, with the rest of the week looking rather warm as well. So I am putting off any outdoor chores and focusing on stuff that allows me to be nearer the a/c today. Yes I am a wimp!.

I got to thinking earlier today, how quiet it has been on Multiply. A few scattered posts on some days. No blogs or guestbook visits on others. It's a busy time of the year, and people's interests lie otherwise, whether outdoors or just on other websites. I miss seeing everyone here. And I am just as guilty of being lax in my blogging ways.

So today I am challenging myself. How hard could it be to blog for 30 days straight I told myself. Not that hard was my inner reply. Though I did have a small gnawing doubt that it might be harder than I thought. Even though I can ramble on and on, to come up with something different every day to blog about for 30 days would require a little more mental effort than I might think. I might have bitten off more than I can chew.

But I am going to try it, this self imposed 30 day challenge. Thirty days of blogs, they might be short blogs, just a pic blogs, but they will be some sort of blogs. I see it is a way to kick start myself back into blogging and getting off my lazy mental keester. I may bore you all, and  in no way do I expect you to comment or even read everything I post (but you can if you want).

So I am counting this as day 1 of the challenge with this blog. Maybe not the most interesting blog, but it's a start. Care to join me in the 30 day challenge?

Happy Father's Day Dads...

   

Songwriters: CHAPIN, HARRY F. / CHAPIN, SANDY

Cat's in the Cradle

My child arrived just the other day,
He came to the world in the usual way.
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay,
He learned to walk while I was away.
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew,
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you, yeh,
I know I'm gonna be like you".

(Chorus)
And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and The Man In The Moon.
"When ya comin' home Dad?"
"I don't know when, we'll get together then, son,
Ya know we'll have a good time then".

Well my son turned 10 just the other day,
He said "Thanks for the ball Dad, come let's play.
Can ya teach me to throw?" I said
"Not today, I got a lot to do." He said "That's ok".
And then, he walked away but his smile never dimmed,
He said "I'm gonna be like him, yeh,
Ya know I'm gonna be like him".

(Chorus)
And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and The Man In The Moon.
"When ya comin' home Dad?"
"I don't know when, we'll get together then, son,
Ya know we'll have a good time then".


Well he came from college just the other day,
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son I'm proud of you, can ya sit for a while?"
He shook his head, and he said with a smile
"What I'd really like Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See ya later, can I have them please?"

(Chorus)
And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and The Man In The Moon.
"When ya comin' home son?"
"I don't know when, we'll get together then, Dad,
Ya know we'll have a good time then".


Well I've long since retired, my son's moved away,
I called him up just the other day.
I said "I'd like to see you, if you don't mind."
He said "I'd love to Dad, if I can find the time.
You see my new job's a hassle and the kids have the flu,
But it's sure nice talking to you Dad,
It's been sure nice talking to you."
And as he hung up the phone it occurred to me,
He'd grown up just like, my boy, was just like me.

(Chorus)
And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little Boy Blue and The Man In The Moon.
"When ya comin' home son?"
"I don't know when, we'll get together then, Dad,
We're gonna have a good time then".

Newest Foxy Neighbors...

It's been ages since I last wrote a blog and I did have plans to write a blog last week. But those plans went awry when I wasn't able to capture a decent picture of my newest neighbors that have moved in.

I was taken completely by surprise when I opened up the back door one day and spied across the road a fox and her three young kits. A mad dash for the camera and a few clicks was all I managed before they dashed down into a drainage culvert. Still learning about my new camera, I didn't have it set on the proper settings and my results were just a blurry pic of several reddish blobs. I was so disappointed, thinking my opportunity had come and gone.

Yesterday morning, there sitting in the middle of the road was one of the foxes. It was strange to see it out in the middle of the morning, but I am guessing the overcast skies and the rain shower the night before had the foxes out searching for food this morning. I was able to catch a few quick pics this time before it darted back into it's temporary den of the drainage ditch.

I am still hoping to get a pic of all of them together before they move on. At the moment they seem quite content to live across the road, but I know it won't be long before other neighbors see them and get to talking and run them out of the neighborhood. There is a part of me that thinks, how kewl to have such neat neighbors, and a part of me that worries for their safety. So many people are unyielding in their views of living with wildlife so close. I can understand their concerns if they have small outdoor pets, chickens, etc. I have no qualms though and am more than willingly to peacefully coexist with them next door.

It is hard to explain my recent affection for my neighbors. They have captured my attention and I find myself looking at the window often to check on their den. I am realistic enough to know that they are responsible for their own well being. No feeding allowed by me. To do so would foster a dependence on an easy meal. Perhaps in time my fascination will wane and my feelings could change for my new neighbors, but for now I am enamored with them and am being quite a nosey neighbor.