My Grandmother and a car full of manuer

Yesterday my grandmother and I headed out to an art festival at the apple orchard. We drove with the top down on my little red car and big band music playing just a little too loud. She told me about her red convertible called "the tomato can" which she had purchased from a farmer during the 50's (I think). He had used it to haul manure on the farm. After cleaning it out she and her limited budget painted the inside of the trunk with bright green leftover paint as well as repaired a leaky hose with a band-ade. My great grandfather once told her that it looked as if someone had painted it with a broom.

I started laughing as I told her we may need to pull over somewhere along the line and put some water in my car. It runs pretty well but in our jalopy of an economy I have purchased a jalopy of a vehicle that runs well but has a few quirks.

She also gave me all of her dress patterns from years past including one from 1949. It was the top she was wearing on her first date with my grandfather. We have both always worn around the same size and lucky for me she has had some pretty and classic taste throughout the years. Grandma has always been stunning in beauty, even at 79 years old. I would say she rivals any of the movie stars from the movies of the 40's and 50's.

I would love to share the great conversations we have had but I'm afraid I couldn't do them justice. Instead I would like to ask you the question that she asks me every few years. What is the one word that best describes you? My answer is always "clever" as it is a nice way of saying quick witted and smart mouthed. Grandma is always "fun". So, what is the one word that best describes you?

Knitted Robot

All right, I'll admit it, I'm a knitting junky. Yes, junky. It controls various aspects of my life. I miss it when I don't have it and people may view it as a problem. I have not yet digressed to fancy toilet paper cozies or barbie doll outfits but at times I am close. With my bizarre idea's and fabulous sense of style it becomes blatantly obvious that I am cruising towards my own demise in the knitting world.

Case and point.
I was recently conjuring up a knitting project in my head based on an awesome robe that I saw at an upscale store in Montclair NJ last year called Scandia Down. I mean, a robe made like a sweater. (I'm not being all french here saying it's a dress people....a robe, like a bath robe) Awesome right? I know. I was thinking the exact same thing. It takes the "snuggie" to a whole new level.

Any who, the price tag was very good for the area sitting at $300.00 but a little bit rich for my taste so I began planning my own. I could pop this baby onto a knitting machine and have it made in a day....ooooooooor, I could HAND knit it. (evil laugh here Bwaaaa ha ha ha ha ha). Now do you see the problem? I just schemed some wonderful scheme to KNIT and got excited enough about it to add an evil laugh.

Alright, back on task. So, there I am googling a pattern for a knitted robe and I am noticing the drop down menu as I type. Does it automatically go to knitted robe....no. Did you know that a knitted ROBOT is a more common search than robe? Seriously people. Who makes a knitted robot?

Then, I looked up a pattern for a knitted Robot out of curiosity and if you can't guess where this is going then let me just say, I have a whole box of yarn scraps with R O B O T written all over them. Kind of cute though, aren't they?

..........and that was my way of stealing the last minute or two of your precious time with a little story about knitting. Thank you, thank you very much.

My first hate mail....Dear Anonymous

Well folks, I hate to give a nasty comment too much momentum or steam but I thought you would all get a good laugh out of this. I've hit the big time. I have officially gotten hate mail. I have to admit it took me off guard like a hit and run since they of course marked it anonymous, but then I began to get the giggles because it was quite obvious that they had not read the post in the manner in which it was intended.

You can check out my original post here "Dear Tony Horton of P90X".

It was in regards to an "as seen on tv" workout system that I have been using and have been getting some pretty decent results from. Right after my first workout, I wrote something facetious about how difficult it was for an at-home workout with the intentions that my readers would understand that this meant it was a "good" workout. Apparently one reader did not.

The comment is as follows

You are an idiot, not Tony....the P90X system is for people who are
in somewhat good shape and want to get in "better" shape.
Not for fat asses like you to have beach bodies in 90 days....
Turn your channel and eat your Krispy Kreme and shut the hell
up fatty.


Dear future R.R.A. (Roid Ragers Anonymous) member,
Oh, but your mother should be ashamed of that mouth! So you are saying I'm an idiot for working out right? (Since you were brave enough to put anonymous, I'm kind of assuming your gender to be male because ladies don't talk like that and to be frank, women who use steroids often times grow mustaches and gain weight. From your comment, I can tell you have a serious problem with people who are overweight. Also, I'm not trying to be pushy or anything but, ummmmm...how do I put this delicately..... "I feel" that you seem to be taking a medication in a manner other than how it was originally prescribed and "I also feel" that you are misplacing what may be a negative body image onto me, a blogger of whom you have never met, and just MAY have mis-interpreted. Me? I try to like everyone, even you with your mustache...sir.)

In you next reply you MUST tell me more about this crispy cream that you speak of. (I'm just kidding, I've heard of it, aren't they hot donuts or something???? Sounds delicious!) If you are a regular reader of my blog, and I am assuming you are, you are well aware of my need to make everything from scratch. Oh, and one more little thing, and I would appreciate it if you would imagine this one in a whisper, "it's a DVD set. You don't change the channel, it's not on regular programming."

Finally, since this was actually about the P90X system, I will try to keep it simple here for you know who...... (lets not point fingers) I like it. I like it a lot. It's a great workout.

Whew, call a priest I may need some exorcising.....get it? Thank you to all of my lovely, nice, good, zen, wonderful, smart, talented and clever blogging friends for allowing me this moment of rant. I will now appreciate all of your very kind comments just a little bit more than before.

Marigold sunshine

The day I planted my marigold garden I had no idea what I was doing. It seems that the mystery of the little flower skeletons leftover from the previous owner has been solved and then some. I pulled them out in April while doing a little cleaning up and this must have produced the perfect opportunity for the little seeds to flutter to the ground and find very happy little homes.

I remember weeding around my newly planted daisy seeds and snapdragons when I got a whiff. Hmmm...smells skunkily familiar, like my great grandmothers garden. Marigolds! I have a whole garden of marigolds. At this point I called my mother as I thought marigolds were annuals and I had no idea how they could have been planted. We have owned the house since February you see. She confirmed that they can replant themselves in the right conditions.



I decided that since we work on a budget it would be wise to let them go and hope for the best. Well, did they ever perform! It turns out that I have several variety's all like big bursts of bright orange and yellow sunshine......stinky stinky sunshine. Yesterday, I spent a good portion of the day transplanting them into more appealing arrangements . Up until this point they were just sitting in a cluster right in the middle of the garden. Now that they are all in nice order I feel that my investment of NOTHING was pretty savvy on my part and I plan on harvesting the seeds for my vegetable garden border next year.

Weight loss inspiration

Inspiration comes in many forms. I find myself struggling to lose the 10-15 lbs staring at me everyday keeping me just slightly out of my range. I recently had inspiration.

Daughter: Momma? Is Ginger fat?

Ginger is my old dog that bites and my parents lovingly care for now since the birth of our children. She is a chow mix and just gorgeous but her breed makes her appear to be larger than she is. She really isn't fat, just furry.

Me: (attempting to get a laugh from my husband as well) No, Ginger is just big boned.

Daughter: Are you big boned too?

.....and that was the beginning of my serious change of eating habits. "Waiter, change my order to a salad and make it snappy!" More moderation, less sugar, if you please.

p.s. I kidnapped this picture from my mom's blog "Madame sews a lot". If you would like to learn more about decorating around your pet (did I just say decorating around your pet BA HAHAHAHAHAHA!) Check her out.

Thank you prayer

Tonight before the kids went to bed my daughter asked if she could say a special prayer to God. This was unusual since we normally just say the same one "Now I lay me etc." I couldn't exactly figure out what changed to make her need to do some direct talking with the big man but apparently she was in need of some spiritual healing. It went something like this.

Dear God,
Thank you for making flowers. Thank you for making bedrooms. Thank you for making mommy. Thank you for making daddy. Thank you for making my brother. Amen.

Now, this leaves me to contemplate. How does she learn how to say a thank you prayer if we don't really teach her? Is it something we are born with? Do we know how to give thanks from our little 2 year old souls? With the big boom of "The Secret", and all of the literature of the power of deliberate intent and law of attraction I have been led to believe we should be giving thanks more as it makes us grow as people and brings us joy. It seems like a simple concept but in reality it isn't that easy.

Do you think that our natural instincts to be grateful are squelched by the darkness of the world to the point where we have to relearn the little things like being grateful for the wonderful things that we have? I would love to hear others opinions and beliefs on this topic. As for now, here is my little list of thank you's.

Dear God,
Thank you for making my family. Thank you for making bedrooms and flowers. Thank you for little ones who remind me to be thankful when I forget. Oh, and Lord, thank you for your great sense of humor but please please please stop using it so much with this humid weather and my naturally curly hair. Thank you. Amen

My new pirate tattoo

So there I was with my new pirate flag skull and cross bone tattoo all the way across my back and half up the middle when I realized it wasn't straight. It was completely off center. I told my husband this wouldn't work. It had to be straight. Besides, I'm not a pirate and I don't even want a tattoo.

This whole thing was making me uncomfortable. I didn't really know how the tattoo had gotten there but I had an inkling that it was done while I was asleep. I am a very heavy sleeper you see.

"I will have to get it removed."
"We can't afford to get it removed" He answered. "You are going to have to live with it."

I began to freak out. How can I keep this on my body? I'm not even a pirate! It's red, black, and green with a big P for pirate! I would never choose those colors. Luckily I woke up shortly after. Whew....that was a close one.

The Apple Works

Today I was feeling a little bit overzealous for fall. It's still a whole month away but it is my favorite season and The Apple Works is a mainstay in my home as things are blooming and bearing fruit. It is a local apple orchard with all kinds of wonderful produce, candy, and pre-packaged fun little mixes and canned goodies. I especially like the apple butter barbecue. They also have fun things for the kids like a baby goat named Snow as well as several other animals, a giant barn slide, and a bamboo maze.

I went with the intentions of getting some apples and making applesauce and apple butter for the year but instead I purchased 10 lbs of peaches and some blueberries for my peach blueberry preserves. I noticed my neighbor has a nice sized apple tree and he appears to be ignoring the falling fruit so I thought perhaps I would offer to attend to the fruit before he has to pick it up and save him the trouble. (eyebrows moving up and down at this point in that I'm offering to be nice but actually trying to get something for myself wa hahahahahahahaha!)

What I learned while at the orchard.

1. Baby goats like to be scratched the same as dogs under the chin and on the chest
2. Going down the super slide in a dress will result in massive underwear showing
3. Kids love to get caught in a maze for the first 5 minutes or so
4. Kindly older women with apple samples rock
5. Turkeys will gobble back if you chase them gobbling with your feathers puffed up

What a fantastic morning!

Lazy Day

I painted some of the trim on our house this morning and rewarded myself with a sit outside while the kids played in the pool. It was wonderful and breezy and I saw something that I don't remember noticing before even if it is a common occurrence. I noticed two sets of clouds. The first set just sat quietly and did not move. They were fuller and stronger than their wispy counterparts. The other set rushed past with fury as if they caught a strong wind. I just sat in the peaceful moment and listened to the kids splash and giggle. I guess today I was the first set of clouds as everything just hurried past.

Bra shopping, condoms, teenage boys, and grown up talk

So tonight I went over to our local sell everything buy everything store and purchased a couple of new brassieres. It was a true dilemma when I got up to the register because I had to pick from 2 teenage boys. I would normally try to filter such a purchase through a female cashier as not to create a awkward or embarrassing moment for one of these young men. I chose the less cool looking of the two for kicks.

I walked up to the line and placed my things in front of him. He very calmly looked at my purchase and sighed. What in the world does this mean? Then he looked at me and looked down again.

Him: The other day some women purchased some sort of a breast tube. It was totally weird and I didn't even know what it was.

Me: Oh, must have been for breastfeeding or something.

Him: Yeah that's what I thought.

Now, am I mistaken or was I the awkward teenager in this scenario? I'm not sure but it was pretty strange all around. Will I think of him every time I wear one of these? Am I forever bonded to the lady with the "breast tube"? Are my new pretty brassieres tainted with this strange memory? I still can't look at chocolate cherry cordials, jet ski's, or Rico Suave the same thanks to a similar encounter that my sister and I had in the summer of 1998.

This little undergarment extravaganza truly rivaled last weeks moment at the self checkout when the poor guy in front of us had one of those purchases that sets off the little "help me" alarm requiring the floating cashier to come and harass him. "Now what are you trying to buy?" She says at the top of her lungs in a super friendly manner while she is still heading his direction. "condoms", the 40-something year old answers very very VERY quietly. I think I would have yelled at the top of my lungs "CONDOMS" just for the precious look it brought to her face. Either way she was obviously mortified as was he while the rest of us had a good laugh. I think my husband actually almost puked from laughing.

Gooey Eyeball

My eye is infected. AHHHHH! Who touched a dirty floor and then my eye? Which one of my munchkins ran their hand over the side of a toilet bowl and then touched my face? Wait, no, I clean my house. This has to be an outside job. It's a set up I tell you. I HATE HATE HATE eye drops. I mean I HATE them. I find them to be the largest form of torture. Sure, to you it's just a drop of medicine and a little discomfort but to me it's a searing hot poker that heals. I will be in my closet with a machete if anyone wants me.

Shhhhhhh....it's the secret

Wow, this vacation blog is putting me to sleep. I feel as if I may break out some slides of grandma knitting soon, and although I am a huge fan of knitting I think it would be a bit boring for anyone else involved. Where is the pizazz?

Instead let me fill you in on the world of dumpster diving. It's really truly all about "the secret" Shhhhhhhhh....yes, the secret........ Just the other day I was saying to my husband "you know, I wouldn't mind having an outdoor fireplace". Low and behold, we were driving past someones house who had decided to get rid of an older outdoor fireplace, and it began screaming my name (quietly of course, and inside of my head). It had some rust but overall held good condition.

It was obvious that it was up for grabs but when dumpster diving you always get that weird feeling as if you are doing something wrong. It is someone else's garbage after all. We looked left and then to the right and quickly and quietly shoved it into the back of the van. I took it home, scrubbed it with a wire brush and painted it with high heat resistant rustoleum paint. Ta da! An outdoor fireplace. Get ready because I've got some wood to burn and marshmallows to roast. Autumn, here I come. All are invited. Please B.Y.O.B.

Vacation day 4, the lake comes to us

We woke up after a good nights sleep in our own beds. The clouds set in early and the rain began. The downpour was heavy and we concluded that today our staycation would be just that. We were going to close off the outside world and watch some movies. Lunch time rolled around and I decided to get things going. My kitchen window faces the the drainage ditch behind the house and every few minutes it seemed to be getting fuller.

Me: Honey?????? Have you looked out back yet?

Him: No, why?

Me: That drainage ditch is looking really full. We aren't in a flood zone right?

Him: No, we just got that notice saying we were all clear.

We continued to stare out the back door. The water got higher and higher and soon began overtaking the road it would normally run under. We started taking bets on weather the cars were going to do the speed boat approach, or the turtle approach. Scenario's as to what we should do if the water spills over the ditch towards the house began to fill our conversation. Being the calm sorts we decided to instead eat our lunch and watch the show for awhile.

Lunch was delicious. The kids asked to be excused and we began to do the dishes. My son came running into the kitchen talking about the lake.

Me: Yes, yes dear, we were at the lake yesterday

Him: No momma, we have a lake!

I quickly followed him towards the front of the house. How did we neglect to look out there? It was true. The lake had come to us. We WERE going to stay in the house for the day considering we didn't have a boat. The best part about it? The rain stopped about a foot short of the house taking on water. Turns out we are not in a flood plain but the golf course behind our home has improperly drained the ditch. The city has been notified by the neighborhood association. I guess fate has decided to allow us to keep our green carpet yet another day.....sigh....maybe next time.

The picture is from our upstairs window.

Vacation day 3, vacation goes staycation

The forecast screams cool weather and thunderstorms for the week. This on top of the dust, mold, cottage without a heater, and mother in law's need to visit have created prime condition for the perfect storm.

After a good morning in the sunshine, fresh veggies and turkey bratwurst on the grill, and one sideways dump off of the side of the water trampoline we have packed our things and are heading back home. The sky is grumbling and the air is suddenly becoming cool. Swinging by to pick up the skunk eh hem....dog, on our way. Look out bed, I'm sleeping good tonight!

Vacation day 2, the family

All right, now that I have run my husband through the muck on his horrible case of manliness and all of the adventures that seem to follow this HORRIBLE, horrible case of manliness I am pleased to announce he has returned to the world of blogdom. He used to write a blog called testosterblog which would at times leave me on the floor laughing after I pee'd my pants but with a new baby etc., he let it go. He recently deleted all of his old posts and decided to start fresh again. If you know a man who likes to read about other men who do manly things in the manliest sort of ways, please re-direct them to testosterblog. It is sure to be filled with ramblings of sports and I don't know...boobs? Who really knows what goes on in men's heads.

Now onto Vacation day 2, the family

Woke up early this morning and smelled skunk. The in-laws have volunteered to keep the dog for the week outside on the farm while we head a little further north to the lake cottage. It is a family lake cottage purchased by my husband's grandparents and handed down to their 4 children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Lucky for us they installed indoor plumbin' and the kitchen sink no longer runs on a hand pump. Gone are the days of children being tossed into the lake with a bar of soap. Let us give thanks for the shower.

My mother in law continues to bring a steady flow of crap into the cottage. These are all things that she no longer uses but thinks perhaps the family will find use of. Some examples include old jelly jars that she calls glasses, half of a knife that she suggests one might use for gouging out the insides of a grapefruit, and peach preserves that she and her sister made 4 YEARS AGO. That's right, I'm not even kidding. I actually have to watch my children to avoid botulism. She also sends a list with me as we travel, which I conveniently forget, of things that she would like me to drag up to the lake shack with me. Truthfully, I know this is crazy, but her goofball antics are things I am coming to find endearing and quirky at times....at times I said.

My father in law is completely the opposite. He spent most of his summer weekends at this cottage. He's happy to throw a couple of burgers on the grill, maybe some fresh corn he grew himself, and lounge around in the water until he turns into a prune. He needs not television, radio, or conversation, although any conversation he makes is worthy. I like this man very much. I also like to think my husband will continue to grow into all of these wonderful qualities.

As we arrived at the cottage so did the other family. They all spend the day on Sunday's before turning it over to the family of the week. In this case it is us. About 15 or so adults and children spend the day running around and catching up before the women clean up the dishes and the men fix what needs fixing this week. It is old and falling apart but everyone loves it as it holds good memories. We all stand by and watch the monstrosities that go up around it as all of the other little cottages say goodbye and turn into prime lake front property. The cottage had a recent appraisal which stated it actually de-valued the price of the land as it would cost money to tear it down. I guess in the end, the true value is seen by the many people who grew up here rather than the little man in the suit with the pencil and measuring tape.

Vacation day 1, the skunk

We arrived at my in-laws place last night for what promises to be a wonderful and relaxing vacation. Basil our dog always loves the country as it gives him room to roam and romp and chase things. This morning was a little bit different.

My husband was feeling quite tired. I like to say lazy, but lets just go with tired to make it sound nice. Basil woke at 5 AM and although we would normally make him wait to go outside, he appeared particularly urgent in his need to commune with nature.

Me: are you going to let him out without his leash? (translation, put a leash on him)

Husband: Come on Bas. (blatantly ignores my suggestion, opens the door and allows dog to run)

Moments pass.....

Husband: Basil, get in the house (stops to scratch and stretch in most unattractive manner, closes door)

Me: (sigh in annoyance of yelling and attempt to pull covers over my head)

Husband: (opens door again) Basil! (dog runs past at full speed) Basil! Get back here (closes door and waits a few moments)

Me: (in my head) I told you so

Husband: (Opens door and strong odor wafts in) Do you smell that?

Me: (In my head again) You dirty word dirty word I told you to put the dirty word dog on the dirty word leash. (now aloud) Oh, smells like a skunk. I hope Basil didn't get sprayed.

Suddenly the dog bolts through the door and runs up to my face.

Husband: Does he smell?

Me: YES, CAN'T YOU SMELL HIM?

Him: What do you want me to do with him?

Me: Get him the dirty word out of here!

1 can of tomato juice, 1 anti skunk treatment, 3 baths, peroxide and lots of dog swims in the lake later, the dog still stinks and my husband is still in the dog house.

Not So Glamorous Give Away Winner

Congratulations to Holly, She is the not so glamorous give away winner. Thanks to the handy dandy random number generator on random.org she will be taking home the big prize. Once again thank you to everyone who reads and entered. I promise some VERY interesting posts in regards to my fabulous vacation in the country, at the lake, with a skunk, at a county fair, trapped in the house due to a flood, at a state fair, at a state park, and in a very intense job interview that may very well result in a not so glamorous working woman. whew....all of that in 7 days?