He's tall and distinguished looking. Elegant. Graceful. The curve of his neck nearly makes me swoon. When he approches the house, my eyes are immediately drawn his direction as I leer at him out the window. My husband can't even hate him, he's just that gorgeous. Ok, it's a blue heron, and he's hot!
I'm merely a scheduled stop on his daily route and that's alright with me. I don't care where he goes after my place as long as I get to watch him coast in on those enormous wings. He's my avian gigolo.
The frogs on the pond are less happy than I am to see his arrival. Luckily there are millions of them! It's truly a smorgasboard. In fact, I wonder how he flies away with such a full belly? But then, he is the pro.
I know that when he leaves my little pond he will go on to someone else's. But in the morning, or maybe for a two-fer in the evening, he will return. I have something he truly loves...frogs!
Frenchy goes Country: Tales of a city mouse turned country mouse...in style!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Easter logistics
Easter Sunday was my eldest son's 14th birthday. It was also my first Easter with my hubby in our new home, so I offered to host the family gathering here at the cabin. The first issue was where to seat everyone. Our family isn't too numerous, only about 20 coming. I vividly recall being 12ish and having to sit with the little table with my knees hitting the underside of the wee card table on a chair made for a gnome. I wanted us all at one table. Everyone contributed and it was a breeze to heat a ham! Food was served off the island. I had the table scaped with flowers in aqua mason jars, fabric, primitive bunnies and giant aqua ceramic eggs I had from Ikea awhile back. We ate around 1:30 pm and it was de-lish! Cross off one success for the day.
The next event was the egg hunt. It's a fine line when your kiddos are older and little cousins come along. Do you cater to the littles or the bigs? I decided to make the egg hunt more of a challenge for the big guys. I wrote what I thought were hilarious clues and they went into the little eggs with some candy. They were hunting a big pantyhose-style golden plastic egg with a twenty dollar bill in it. Now THAT will get the big kids motivated to hunt eggs, right? The big egg was hid in a former fence post hole in a far corner of the property. They had to find all the little eggs, which the little kids could do, then open them up to read all of the clues to find the money in the hidey hole. Well, it only took a few clues for the 6 year old niece to find the golden egg!
It's ok, we still have birthday cake. My Mom made two cakes for the crowd who only ate one of them. The other was gone by tuesday morning! My son got a lot of money for gifts since he didn't ask for anything special. He also got a bike from his step-grandparents, lucky duck! This will be great once his cast is off in a few weeks. (He broke his tibia in P.E. a few days prior.) My hubby says he can ride it to go fishing this summer whenever he likes. This was a really memorable birthday for the big guy: Easter Sunday, a broken leg, living in the country, lots of fishing ahead and money in his pocket!
When they all left, I sat for the first time that day with a nice glass of Sancerre. I see now why Grama surrendered so quickly the hosting of Easter Sunday! I wonder if she did the same thing I did when we left her house at Christmas?
The next event was the egg hunt. It's a fine line when your kiddos are older and little cousins come along. Do you cater to the littles or the bigs? I decided to make the egg hunt more of a challenge for the big guys. I wrote what I thought were hilarious clues and they went into the little eggs with some candy. They were hunting a big pantyhose-style golden plastic egg with a twenty dollar bill in it. Now THAT will get the big kids motivated to hunt eggs, right? The big egg was hid in a former fence post hole in a far corner of the property. They had to find all the little eggs, which the little kids could do, then open them up to read all of the clues to find the money in the hidey hole. Well, it only took a few clues for the 6 year old niece to find the golden egg!
It's ok, we still have birthday cake. My Mom made two cakes for the crowd who only ate one of them. The other was gone by tuesday morning! My son got a lot of money for gifts since he didn't ask for anything special. He also got a bike from his step-grandparents, lucky duck! This will be great once his cast is off in a few weeks. (He broke his tibia in P.E. a few days prior.) My hubby says he can ride it to go fishing this summer whenever he likes. This was a really memorable birthday for the big guy: Easter Sunday, a broken leg, living in the country, lots of fishing ahead and money in his pocket!
When they all left, I sat for the first time that day with a nice glass of Sancerre. I see now why Grama surrendered so quickly the hosting of Easter Sunday! I wonder if she did the same thing I did when we left her house at Christmas?
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Weather or Not
Oh those whiney farmers! It's always too wet, too dry, too hot, too cold, whah, whah, whah. Or at least that's what I used to think. Living in the country has changed how I see the weather. It's no longer just an annoyance to keep me from running to the grocery store. The weather has a serious effect on everything around here.
This last winter, well, it just sucked. Not only were we at the mercy of the forecast, but then it was a matter of getting out of the driveway, then out of the gravel road, then to the main hard road without ending up in the ditch. It got to where I just hibernated...and pouted...and drank wine.
So now that it's spring, the weather is no longer below freezing and all is well right? Sigh, nope. Now it is about the rain, and this year, flooding. It isn't flooding where I live, but the rain and cold this spring have affected the fishing, which is kinda a big deal here. Apparently the first warm day of spring is the primo day to fish. We haven't really had it yet, which is not normal, and has my fishermen in a tizzy.
You can see the farmers on a day before a predicted rainy, cold spell, out in the fields near our house until way past dark. There is a lot of standing water as you drive around, even in the flattest of fields. I care now how this affects my neighbors. Maybe it's my inner virgo making its connection to the earth come to the surface. I want to plant something, but the weather is preventing this and it pisses me off. Perhaps I should have another cup of coffee and whine about how I can't get my flower pots planted before Easter Sunday.
This last winter, well, it just sucked. Not only were we at the mercy of the forecast, but then it was a matter of getting out of the driveway, then out of the gravel road, then to the main hard road without ending up in the ditch. It got to where I just hibernated...and pouted...and drank wine.
So now that it's spring, the weather is no longer below freezing and all is well right? Sigh, nope. Now it is about the rain, and this year, flooding. It isn't flooding where I live, but the rain and cold this spring have affected the fishing, which is kinda a big deal here. Apparently the first warm day of spring is the primo day to fish. We haven't really had it yet, which is not normal, and has my fishermen in a tizzy.
You can see the farmers on a day before a predicted rainy, cold spell, out in the fields near our house until way past dark. There is a lot of standing water as you drive around, even in the flattest of fields. I care now how this affects my neighbors. Maybe it's my inner virgo making its connection to the earth come to the surface. I want to plant something, but the weather is preventing this and it pisses me off. Perhaps I should have another cup of coffee and whine about how I can't get my flower pots planted before Easter Sunday.
Monday, April 18, 2011
It's a small world afterall
Sigh. It looks like I am the only one interested in the royal wedding of Will and Kate. Seriously? How is that possible? Do people out here not remember the Charles and Diana wedding? It was a major event in my junior high universe. I still have the Princess Di bride doll my mom let me order from the Danbury mint. So when I asked some ladies if they were following the royal wedding updates and they told me that they "really don't pay attention to that stuff" I was gobsmacked! Flabbergasted! Almost insulted that they did not think it was an important event in the world.
I forget what a small world it is when you live in a small town. You can get all the news you need to know from the coffee shop or post office. So-and-so had a baby boy, thus-and-thus is being sold, yadda yadda blah blah blah. News about people I have never met, let alone three generations of family scandal and gossip, pass hands faster than internet.
I love to listen to their stories about who is getting married and who sold their house or is looking to change jobs. As a teacher, I am no stranger to gossip and I love to share good news about folks. I am even eager to hear who is getting divorced because they got caught doing this or that. It's just a natural human curiosity to want to know what people are up to.
So with all this curiosity, how can these folks NOT be following the glamour of a royal family wedding??? It's so filled with tradition and grandeur. Perhaps it's because we do not have royalty here in the U.S. that people could care less what is going on in other countries. Well I am following it. I love seeing this beautiful young couple start their life together. It's hopeful. I like it. It's sweet. It's real and better than any American reality TV I can think of watching. Who gives a hoot what a teenage mom or some rich bitties in New Jersey are up to.
I forget what a small world it is when you live in a small town. You can get all the news you need to know from the coffee shop or post office. So-and-so had a baby boy, thus-and-thus is being sold, yadda yadda blah blah blah. News about people I have never met, let alone three generations of family scandal and gossip, pass hands faster than internet.
I love to listen to their stories about who is getting married and who sold their house or is looking to change jobs. As a teacher, I am no stranger to gossip and I love to share good news about folks. I am even eager to hear who is getting divorced because they got caught doing this or that. It's just a natural human curiosity to want to know what people are up to.
So with all this curiosity, how can these folks NOT be following the glamour of a royal family wedding??? It's so filled with tradition and grandeur. Perhaps it's because we do not have royalty here in the U.S. that people could care less what is going on in other countries. Well I am following it. I love seeing this beautiful young couple start their life together. It's hopeful. I like it. It's sweet. It's real and better than any American reality TV I can think of watching. Who gives a hoot what a teenage mom or some rich bitties in New Jersey are up to.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
To shoot or not to shoot...
That is my question. There is a very different perspective out here in the country when it comes to arming oneself. It would never have occurred to me to own a gun while living in town, not even as a woman home alone did I want one. All I thought of was the kids getting it and shooting each other accidentally. Their dad was a hunter while we were married and I had insisted the guns be kept locked away somewhere the boys would never go exploring.
Fast forward ten years. My sons are nearly 12 and 14. My new husband is charming combination of Grizzly Adams,Crocodile Dundee and Rambo. There is a handgun in the nightstand - sometimes ON the nightstand. My eldest actually has the gun "safe" in his bedroom...but it's ok because the ammo is kept in the drawer of the cabinet and not actually touching the guns themselves.
I have taken a stand of "if you can't beat 'em join 'em" when it comes to fishing. But can I actually learn to embrace what I fear? Can I learn to use and respect the gun? In town, guns are used to kill people, steal from people, and intimidate people. Out here, however, children take gun safety classes when they are 9. The never point a gun at a person, ever. They carry a gun in a way that shows they know it can kill someone even on accident. They respect the power and don't seem to forget it. They know a gun can kill the shooter too if you do not handle it properly.
I'm thinking of learning to shoot. I don't want to hunt deer or anything like that, but I do have a reason. The pair of Canadian geese are nesting on the lake, so are the wood ducks. I want to be able to shoot at a big ol' snapping turtle if I see it around the babies. And what if I ever see the elusive, but nearby, mountain lion? I don't want to shoot it, but I would scare it away from my kids and dogs. I don't really want to kill anything, well, maybe the snappers. I have the best teacher one could ask for in my hubby. Besides, all the other country girls can do it - and I do like to collect credentials!
Fast forward ten years. My sons are nearly 12 and 14. My new husband is charming combination of Grizzly Adams,Crocodile Dundee and Rambo. There is a handgun in the nightstand - sometimes ON the nightstand. My eldest actually has the gun "safe" in his bedroom...but it's ok because the ammo is kept in the drawer of the cabinet and not actually touching the guns themselves.
I have taken a stand of "if you can't beat 'em join 'em" when it comes to fishing. But can I actually learn to embrace what I fear? Can I learn to use and respect the gun? In town, guns are used to kill people, steal from people, and intimidate people. Out here, however, children take gun safety classes when they are 9. The never point a gun at a person, ever. They carry a gun in a way that shows they know it can kill someone even on accident. They respect the power and don't seem to forget it. They know a gun can kill the shooter too if you do not handle it properly.
I'm thinking of learning to shoot. I don't want to hunt deer or anything like that, but I do have a reason. The pair of Canadian geese are nesting on the lake, so are the wood ducks. I want to be able to shoot at a big ol' snapping turtle if I see it around the babies. And what if I ever see the elusive, but nearby, mountain lion? I don't want to shoot it, but I would scare it away from my kids and dogs. I don't really want to kill anything, well, maybe the snappers. I have the best teacher one could ask for in my hubby. Besides, all the other country girls can do it - and I do like to collect credentials!
Friday, April 8, 2011
Duckudrama
Every morning when I sit up in bed, the first thing I see is our lake. When we decided to put a master suite in the basement of this cabin, I knew just where I wanted our bed. I could envision waking up just like I did this day. It's beautiful, really. Especially now as it gets a litttle greener out by the minute. But what really gets me going, besides my morning cafe, are the waterfowl.
I grew up near the Mississippi river and the only ducks I knew of really were the mallards. Pretty green heads on the males, drakes, made them easy to remember. There were lots of Canadian geese around the fields where I lived as kid too. I really had no idea there were so many different types of ducks around, either passing through on their migrations or staying a bit longer to nest and then move on.
I can proudly tell the difference now between the shovelers, wood ducks, blue-winged teals, merganzers and greebs. Remember the story about how I like to learn about one subject very thoroughly? I want to learn more about the ducks. Lucky girl that I am, my very own crocodile-hunter husband also knows all about the birds and answers my copious questions on the subject. First of all, they are cute. They swim super fast too! In their cute little pairs or harems, it's charming, really, or so I thought.
Apparently there is a more cut-throat side to these cute little critters. This morning as I was making coffee, I saw a few blue-winged teals on the lake out the window. The sides of the house have what we call the "dog-legs" of the lake. You can see it a little bit in the photo. It's narrow and shallow and the birds love to hang out here when there is no threat to be found, like me trying to take their picture! So the drake, who had his own hen, goes after this outsider drake and they fight! On the water! Dang! The invader was chased away and the winner now had three hens following him around! I watched as the winner chased the other drake around just to make sure he didn't try any funny stuff. The three hens tailed their boss like stink on doo-doo.
It's obviously time to nest for these birdies. I hope they stay here and we have wee teals and merganzers about. I know the nesting pair of Canadian geese are staying, but as yet I cannot determine where they are nesting exactly. The kingfisher is back too, he's a neat one to watch. So is the snowy egret, who is thus far alone, but had a partner last year, hmmm, I wonder what happened there. They eat the minnows and the frogs in the lake. The blue heron is always cool to see land so close to the house an hang out for awhile. I love to wake up early and see what new episode Mother Nature has for me. It's better than the Kennedy mini-series, my very own duck-u-drama.
I grew up near the Mississippi river and the only ducks I knew of really were the mallards. Pretty green heads on the males, drakes, made them easy to remember. There were lots of Canadian geese around the fields where I lived as kid too. I really had no idea there were so many different types of ducks around, either passing through on their migrations or staying a bit longer to nest and then move on.
I can proudly tell the difference now between the shovelers, wood ducks, blue-winged teals, merganzers and greebs. Remember the story about how I like to learn about one subject very thoroughly? I want to learn more about the ducks. Lucky girl that I am, my very own crocodile-hunter husband also knows all about the birds and answers my copious questions on the subject. First of all, they are cute. They swim super fast too! In their cute little pairs or harems, it's charming, really, or so I thought.
Apparently there is a more cut-throat side to these cute little critters. This morning as I was making coffee, I saw a few blue-winged teals on the lake out the window. The sides of the house have what we call the "dog-legs" of the lake. You can see it a little bit in the photo. It's narrow and shallow and the birds love to hang out here when there is no threat to be found, like me trying to take their picture! So the drake, who had his own hen, goes after this outsider drake and they fight! On the water! Dang! The invader was chased away and the winner now had three hens following him around! I watched as the winner chased the other drake around just to make sure he didn't try any funny stuff. The three hens tailed their boss like stink on doo-doo.
It's obviously time to nest for these birdies. I hope they stay here and we have wee teals and merganzers about. I know the nesting pair of Canadian geese are staying, but as yet I cannot determine where they are nesting exactly. The kingfisher is back too, he's a neat one to watch. So is the snowy egret, who is thus far alone, but had a partner last year, hmmm, I wonder what happened there. They eat the minnows and the frogs in the lake. The blue heron is always cool to see land so close to the house an hang out for awhile. I love to wake up early and see what new episode Mother Nature has for me. It's better than the Kennedy mini-series, my very own duck-u-drama.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
I need a hitman
It might be a pterodactyl, sure looks like one to me. It is actually called a turkey vulture, a.k.a. a buzzard, and there is one 'buzzing' my house. Remember in the movie 'Top Gun' when Maverick and Goose buzzed the control tower? Yea...well, my living room is the tower and that behemoth is the F15. It flies sideways past my big windows, all 6' of its bedraggled feathers visible. It's showing off.
I want it to go away, so I asked my great hunter hubby to shoot it. Afterall, he shoots beavers and muskrats at a moments notice because they mess up the drainage on the lake. He shoots the giant snapping turtles too because they eat the baby ducks. He won't shoot my buzzard. That's right, I said MY buzzard. It's playing mind games with me.
Apparently one cannot shoot a buzzard. WTH? A coyote can be shot any time during the year, but not an ugly, bare-headed, giant flying rat? I don't understand this logic. They eat carion these birds, so they are not going to eat me or my little dogs. I have a bad feeling we are dealing with a mutant. I don't think this one knows that he should be circling the interstates for roadkill.
I know he can see me in here blogging about him. His beady eyes were probably watching me clean the house earlier today too...waiting for me to go outside. I even asked what the consequences would be if one were to, say, meet an accidental demise. It's a federal offense! Seriously?! The feds should not concern themselves with my petty bird scuffle and just look the other way. I have some 'foreign relations' to keep up.
I want it to go away, so I asked my great hunter hubby to shoot it. Afterall, he shoots beavers and muskrats at a moments notice because they mess up the drainage on the lake. He shoots the giant snapping turtles too because they eat the baby ducks. He won't shoot my buzzard. That's right, I said MY buzzard. It's playing mind games with me.
Apparently one cannot shoot a buzzard. WTH? A coyote can be shot any time during the year, but not an ugly, bare-headed, giant flying rat? I don't understand this logic. They eat carion these birds, so they are not going to eat me or my little dogs. I have a bad feeling we are dealing with a mutant. I don't think this one knows that he should be circling the interstates for roadkill.
I know he can see me in here blogging about him. His beady eyes were probably watching me clean the house earlier today too...waiting for me to go outside. I even asked what the consequences would be if one were to, say, meet an accidental demise. It's a federal offense! Seriously?! The feds should not concern themselves with my petty bird scuffle and just look the other way. I have some 'foreign relations' to keep up.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Ok, judge me
I'm watching Dancing with the Stars with my (cough) 3rd glass of pinot grigio. I didn't ask for the vino, the glass just filled itself. Ok, my husband filled it. I'm a bit suspect of his motives to be honest, but we can come back to that.
I feel like an armchair quarterback, only with ballroom dancing. "That song is terrible." "OMG look at that hair." "I wonder what I would look like in that dress..." "She has like 40# on him." And those are the nice comments going through my head.
I am alone in the room, though not in the house. One son is in his room talking or texting his girlfriend. The younger son is on the xbox playing Call of Duty. The hubby was here a minute ago...hmmm, me thinks he is outside.
I would be awesome on this show if only someone would coach me. I would be in great shape too if only someone would train me. Yadda yadda. I need a staff of at least 5. Where the heck are they? Dammit.
So back to the husband's motivation to bring the wifey booze. Does it need be said? I mean, really, he's hopeful. I get it, but there is a fine line between lucky lucky and nighty night. I got up to use the potty and when I came back, the wine glass was full again. I am getting kinda sleepy.
Cha cha cha...I can do that.
I feel like an armchair quarterback, only with ballroom dancing. "That song is terrible." "OMG look at that hair." "I wonder what I would look like in that dress..." "She has like 40# on him." And those are the nice comments going through my head.
I am alone in the room, though not in the house. One son is in his room talking or texting his girlfriend. The younger son is on the xbox playing Call of Duty. The hubby was here a minute ago...hmmm, me thinks he is outside.
I would be awesome on this show if only someone would coach me. I would be in great shape too if only someone would train me. Yadda yadda. I need a staff of at least 5. Where the heck are they? Dammit.
So back to the husband's motivation to bring the wifey booze. Does it need be said? I mean, really, he's hopeful. I get it, but there is a fine line between lucky lucky and nighty night. I got up to use the potty and when I came back, the wine glass was full again. I am getting kinda sleepy.
Cha cha cha...I can do that.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Management
Don't know if anyone has noticed but I am trying my darndest to get a crafting business off the ground. It all revolves around my laptop. I get territorial if anyone else in the house touches it. I throw a dirty look the equivalent of a hiss. It makes me uncomfortable. When not checking my stuff, I am reading tips about how to promote and better my shop.
It all comes back to living out in the sticks. Part of why I quit my teaching job was the hour commute. Now it's a half hour the other direction just to get grocerie and ten minutes to the gas station. I do have some of my wares in shops, but it's a hassle to go there for the uncertainty of a shop buying stuff from me. Besides, the face to face rejection is less than enjoyable. It was hard to be pushy. I thought it would come more naturally, but I'm not a salesman.
I knew what had to be done. It was time to sell online. I knew I wanted to use Etsy, an awesome place for hand-made art, but I also wanted my own website. Without any background in this area, I channelled my inner "specialist." I read and experimented, and found a place that has a template. This was how to start. That was the hard part really, starting. The anxiety was conquered and it wasn't as hard or pricey as I thought.
So here is what I have been up to these last few weeks...
It all comes back to living out in the sticks. Part of why I quit my teaching job was the hour commute. Now it's a half hour the other direction just to get grocerie and ten minutes to the gas station. I do have some of my wares in shops, but it's a hassle to go there for the uncertainty of a shop buying stuff from me. Besides, the face to face rejection is less than enjoyable. It was hard to be pushy. I thought it would come more naturally, but I'm not a salesman.
I knew what had to be done. It was time to sell online. I knew I wanted to use Etsy, an awesome place for hand-made art, but I also wanted my own website. Without any background in this area, I channelled my inner "specialist." I read and experimented, and found a place that has a template. This was how to start. That was the hard part really, starting. The anxiety was conquered and it wasn't as hard or pricey as I thought.
So here is what I have been up to these last few weeks...
- using Vistaprint to market my company - they have a great way for us beginners to market ourselves
- getting my domain and website: http://www.escargotartsybits.com/ live and putting my jewelry on there using paypal
- blogging - it's good therapy, fun to write, and keeps me "out there" from in here
- sharing info between blog/website/facebook/etsy
- getting a yahoo account for the business - escargotartsybits@yahoo.com
- getting an Illinois dept. of revenue tax ID number
- starting a shop on Etsy.com
- having a etsy shop banner and avatars designed
- getting paypal for the etsy shop
- taking photos of my jewelry twice to get clearer pics
- making a model for the photos that will stand out
- reading and learning tips on how to make a better shop and website
- ordering photo postcards to do a mailing to shops in big cities
- making a brochure to mail along with a free sample of my work and the post cards
Friday, April 1, 2011
credentials
I collect credentials. Teaching French and only French is what I blame for this obsession. It made me a specialist. I love being the person people go to with a specific, beyond what most people know, type of question because they are pretty sure I will know the answer.
I worked at garden center a few summers in college and then again when I was in a new town and wanted a fun job. While watering the perennials, I would read and memorize the tags. I knew each plant; their growth and conditions. The owners soon sent customers to me as the resident "perennial expert." Later I took this further and got my master gardener credential. I was now a French specialist and a gardening specialist, YES! Awesome!
I have since become the person people ask about how to do many home projects like decorating, making curtains, what color to paint a room, how to cover chairs, what flooring to choose, etc. I love having the answers. Makes sense that I was a teacher eh?
There is a down-side to this type of personality, and maybe other teachers feel the same. I only want to hang out with people I can learn something from. This equal a low tolerance for those whom I deem to have nothing to offer me. Pretty arrogant and judgemental, I know, it's a character flaw. My husband did not go to college, or even finish high school for that matter. There was a moment where my education snobbery perked it's ears.
I soon knew I had a lot to learn from him and that it would take a very long time to glean this knowledge. I see it when I call him to ask what is this new duck that stopped by the lake. He tells me immediately that it is a shoveler or a blue-winged teal and that they are warm weather migrators who won't be here too long. He spotted the one pair of Canadian geese out of the 20 on the pond who will choose to nest here this spring. He knows the habits of fish and when and where to catch them so the kids won't be bored. He is supremely fearless and utterly confident in his knowledge of the environment. He is a specialist, and a special one at that.
I worked at garden center a few summers in college and then again when I was in a new town and wanted a fun job. While watering the perennials, I would read and memorize the tags. I knew each plant; their growth and conditions. The owners soon sent customers to me as the resident "perennial expert." Later I took this further and got my master gardener credential. I was now a French specialist and a gardening specialist, YES! Awesome!
I have since become the person people ask about how to do many home projects like decorating, making curtains, what color to paint a room, how to cover chairs, what flooring to choose, etc. I love having the answers. Makes sense that I was a teacher eh?
There is a down-side to this type of personality, and maybe other teachers feel the same. I only want to hang out with people I can learn something from. This equal a low tolerance for those whom I deem to have nothing to offer me. Pretty arrogant and judgemental, I know, it's a character flaw. My husband did not go to college, or even finish high school for that matter. There was a moment where my education snobbery perked it's ears.
I soon knew I had a lot to learn from him and that it would take a very long time to glean this knowledge. I see it when I call him to ask what is this new duck that stopped by the lake. He tells me immediately that it is a shoveler or a blue-winged teal and that they are warm weather migrators who won't be here too long. He spotted the one pair of Canadian geese out of the 20 on the pond who will choose to nest here this spring. He knows the habits of fish and when and where to catch them so the kids won't be bored. He is supremely fearless and utterly confident in his knowledge of the environment. He is a specialist, and a special one at that.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
cowboy critters
It's a different life for a pet out in the country than in town. Before I moved here, I would bring my two little city dogs for weekend visits. The boys came too of course, and this place seemed to have the same effect on both. The fresh air, new smells and sounds, water, openness...was good for everyone. They ran and played and explored without leashes and limits.
Once we moved here permanently, some boundaries were necessary, but not like at the house in town. I was always worried about the kids riding their bikes where I couldn't see them, or the dogs getting loose and hit by traffic on the busy street nearby.
Well, with freedom comes some risk. This week our little black shi-poo, Beau, got hit by a truck and trailer on the not-very-busy gravel road. I went looking for him in the car when he didn't come to my holler of "Co-ttie, Beau-Beau!" I didn't get far. He was on the road at the end of our long driveway. There was no life in him, no reason to rush to the vet. I acted on impulse to find the truck and show the driver what he had done. Why didn't he stop so I could have taken him to the doctor? I held Beau and drove a bit, but came home. I held his warm little body and cried and cried on the porch stairs. He was just a baby at a year and a half and was at that nice stage where they are less work and more nice to have around. He was the most playful of our pets, so animated and sweet.
I wrapped him up and put him in a laundry basket. I didn't know if they boys would want to say good-bye or not, but I wanted it to be their choice. I picked them up from school that day and told them on the way home. My husband had dug a hole for him next to where his own beloved dog was buried. The boys did want to see Beau. He looked asleep in the basket. We all said goodbye together.
I think watching the other dogs may have been worse than telling my kids about Beau. Cotton, my little white Eskimo, was shaking a lot. Is this like crying for a dog? She has been by my side since it happened a few days ago. Beau's best playmate was Fred the pug. Fred is a bit dim, but was looking out the french door for his buddy with his tail uncurled.
I remember living in the country as a kid and losing pets once in a while. It's kind of a cowboy life for them I think; a bit more danger, more adventure, more fending for themselves but with us humans as backup, just in case they don't feel too wild that day. If I were a dog or a cat, there is no way I would want to be stuck in a house in town looking at all that greenness and wonder out the windows. Nope, I would be a country pet...or a country kid...any day of the week.
Once we moved here permanently, some boundaries were necessary, but not like at the house in town. I was always worried about the kids riding their bikes where I couldn't see them, or the dogs getting loose and hit by traffic on the busy street nearby.
Well, with freedom comes some risk. This week our little black shi-poo, Beau, got hit by a truck and trailer on the not-very-busy gravel road. I went looking for him in the car when he didn't come to my holler of "Co-ttie, Beau-Beau!" I didn't get far. He was on the road at the end of our long driveway. There was no life in him, no reason to rush to the vet. I acted on impulse to find the truck and show the driver what he had done. Why didn't he stop so I could have taken him to the doctor? I held Beau and drove a bit, but came home. I held his warm little body and cried and cried on the porch stairs. He was just a baby at a year and a half and was at that nice stage where they are less work and more nice to have around. He was the most playful of our pets, so animated and sweet.
I wrapped him up and put him in a laundry basket. I didn't know if they boys would want to say good-bye or not, but I wanted it to be their choice. I picked them up from school that day and told them on the way home. My husband had dug a hole for him next to where his own beloved dog was buried. The boys did want to see Beau. He looked asleep in the basket. We all said goodbye together.
I think watching the other dogs may have been worse than telling my kids about Beau. Cotton, my little white Eskimo, was shaking a lot. Is this like crying for a dog? She has been by my side since it happened a few days ago. Beau's best playmate was Fred the pug. Fred is a bit dim, but was looking out the french door for his buddy with his tail uncurled.
I remember living in the country as a kid and losing pets once in a while. It's kind of a cowboy life for them I think; a bit more danger, more adventure, more fending for themselves but with us humans as backup, just in case they don't feel too wild that day. If I were a dog or a cat, there is no way I would want to be stuck in a house in town looking at all that greenness and wonder out the windows. Nope, I would be a country pet...or a country kid...any day of the week.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Grama Bertha
I grew up with all 4 grandparents in close proximity. I saw all of them weekly and spent the night at their homes quite a lot. This is more than I can say for my 2 kiddos who have never lived less than 100 miles from their grandparents. So I was a lucky kid, right? I gotta say though, I had a favorite. My mom's mom - Bertha Camilla VanWatermeulen DeCoster Cummins. (She named her kids Mary, Sue and Jeff!) Of course Grama Bertha, as we called her, was the first to pass away.
I was 13. It was spring and a couple months from my confirmation. I am soooo not a cryer, but thinking about her gets the waterworks goin'. I remember as a 13 year old being so sad for my mom. Grama died in a matter of minutes. She had gone shopping with her 2 daughters, a weekly ritual, and was in the driveway to her house when she had a massive stroke/heart attack in the back seat.
Maybe this is why I cry when I think of her. The other grandparents died after long illnesses. My last grampa died just this month. Maybe it's because I was an adult with the others. I remember being a kid and going to Petersen's at the mall with Grama Bertha. People would say hi to her and when I asked who it was, she would say they were a customer. She was a cashier at Eagle's grocery store for 29 years. I don't know my cashiers at Wal-mart, do you?
There must have been something special about her that was not exclusive to her grandkids. Everyone saw it. She was kind, that's it. She was nice to be around. She kept chocolate licorice in the kitchen drawer for us. She gave us silly chores that we thought were really helpful, like filling a brown grocery bag full of pinecones. She tucked us in and gave us a kiss goodnight and said, Goodnight - God bless ya - I love ya.
I had been thinking about her lately and didn't consiously know why. Maybe it was the funeral of my last grandparent, I dunno. Twenty-eight years ago she died, and I remember taking out her curlers like it was yesterday. I only just rememebered that she had died in March, then I did the math. Wow, 28 years, no kidding? Huh. I'm 40. I miss her. I loved all of my grandparents of course, but she was my favorite.
I was 13. It was spring and a couple months from my confirmation. I am soooo not a cryer, but thinking about her gets the waterworks goin'. I remember as a 13 year old being so sad for my mom. Grama died in a matter of minutes. She had gone shopping with her 2 daughters, a weekly ritual, and was in the driveway to her house when she had a massive stroke/heart attack in the back seat.
Maybe this is why I cry when I think of her. The other grandparents died after long illnesses. My last grampa died just this month. Maybe it's because I was an adult with the others. I remember being a kid and going to Petersen's at the mall with Grama Bertha. People would say hi to her and when I asked who it was, she would say they were a customer. She was a cashier at Eagle's grocery store for 29 years. I don't know my cashiers at Wal-mart, do you?
There must have been something special about her that was not exclusive to her grandkids. Everyone saw it. She was kind, that's it. She was nice to be around. She kept chocolate licorice in the kitchen drawer for us. She gave us silly chores that we thought were really helpful, like filling a brown grocery bag full of pinecones. She tucked us in and gave us a kiss goodnight and said, Goodnight - God bless ya - I love ya.
I had been thinking about her lately and didn't consiously know why. Maybe it was the funeral of my last grandparent, I dunno. Twenty-eight years ago she died, and I remember taking out her curlers like it was yesterday. I only just rememebered that she had died in March, then I did the math. Wow, 28 years, no kidding? Huh. I'm 40. I miss her. I loved all of my grandparents of course, but she was my favorite.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
seed bombs, everybody's doing it
Would you believe that where my darling Thor and his fires have burned around the lake, grasses are now growing? That took about a week is all. Call me impressed. So while at our local home store the other day, I was inspired by the seed packets at the door to make me some seed bombs. I don't know where I heard of them or what they were exactly, just that I wanted to make some and spread them around the banks of the lake where the new grass can be found. It's a dirt ball of seeds was all I knew.
I chose several packets of quick growers and native plants: poppies, sunflowers, bachelor buttons, purple coneflowers, larkspur, blak-eyed susans, and hollyhocks. Then I thought it might be a good idea to add some oscmocote, my preferred brand of slow release fertilizer. You mix it with some mud and make balls with the seeds. I wanted them to be pretty, so I thought it would be cool to use ice cube trays as molds for drying. Ok, time to make a mess!
Just to be sure I wasn't missing any key ingredients, I did some online searching. Apparently I am not alone in this brilliant idea! The trend started with some hippies who wanted to plant flowers in vacant city lots and such. They would ride by on their bikes and throw seed bombs over fences. I love it! One lady wore stillettos on her bike rides to plant the seed bombs. She used her heel to make a hole for the wee mudball.
I was looking for recipes and most included red clay powder and compost of some kind. Instead of compost, I am using mud from the lake, it has organic matter. You add enough water to make it doughy, not too sticky. I was also going to mix in just a bit of plaster of paris to make the balls hold their shape for "planting." These along with my seeds and fertilizer should be a rousing success in a couple months or so, you know, about the time we sell the house...
I chose several packets of quick growers and native plants: poppies, sunflowers, bachelor buttons, purple coneflowers, larkspur, blak-eyed susans, and hollyhocks. Then I thought it might be a good idea to add some oscmocote, my preferred brand of slow release fertilizer. You mix it with some mud and make balls with the seeds. I wanted them to be pretty, so I thought it would be cool to use ice cube trays as molds for drying. Ok, time to make a mess!
Just to be sure I wasn't missing any key ingredients, I did some online searching. Apparently I am not alone in this brilliant idea! The trend started with some hippies who wanted to plant flowers in vacant city lots and such. They would ride by on their bikes and throw seed bombs over fences. I love it! One lady wore stillettos on her bike rides to plant the seed bombs. She used her heel to make a hole for the wee mudball.
I was looking for recipes and most included red clay powder and compost of some kind. Instead of compost, I am using mud from the lake, it has organic matter. You add enough water to make it doughy, not too sticky. I was also going to mix in just a bit of plaster of paris to make the balls hold their shape for "planting." These along with my seeds and fertilizer should be a rousing success in a couple months or so, you know, about the time we sell the house...
Monday, March 21, 2011
Homes for sale
Bonjour to all of you! it's now officially spring and the much talked about upswing in the housing market can start any minute now. Anyone who has a home for sale knows of that which I speak. Don't move if you don't have to! If only I could take my own advice. We now have 2 homes on the market. Yea, kinda dumb, I know. The city home me and da boyz moved out of in October 2010 is still forsale. We are on our 2nd realtor. Apparently the whole thing needs be beige inside and for $1500 the realtor has a crew to do it. While I am sure this crew is well worth the money and time, I don't have that lying around just now.
Yesterday we saw my recently retired parents for lunch. I said to my unsuspecting Dad, "Mom said you would paint the old house for me." As he recovered from choking a little on his lobster-feast, he said he could prolly do that. I told him Mom would help him. Volunteering others is a skill I learned growing up, I was generally the one being "volunteered." I said they can do whatever the heck they wanted, just send the bill, as long as it's not over about $500.
So this wasn't enough for me and my new groom to take on. No, we thrive on instability and chaos. We listed the country lake cabin/house with a realtor. Apparently there are crazy big-city folks who are still buying real estate - especially weekend homes in the country. When I told my Dad that I suspected realtors of saying things like this to get your house listed, he likened them to car salesmen.
We have looked at some other houses. I'm only asking that it have more living space and some people nearby for me to play with. The rest can be negotiated. I'm concluding that in the off chance some city-slicker offers us a king's ransom for the cabin, we can then find a place to our liking as there are loads for sale at the moment...afterall, it IS officially spring.
Yesterday we saw my recently retired parents for lunch. I said to my unsuspecting Dad, "Mom said you would paint the old house for me." As he recovered from choking a little on his lobster-feast, he said he could prolly do that. I told him Mom would help him. Volunteering others is a skill I learned growing up, I was generally the one being "volunteered." I said they can do whatever the heck they wanted, just send the bill, as long as it's not over about $500.
So this wasn't enough for me and my new groom to take on. No, we thrive on instability and chaos. We listed the country lake cabin/house with a realtor. Apparently there are crazy big-city folks who are still buying real estate - especially weekend homes in the country. When I told my Dad that I suspected realtors of saying things like this to get your house listed, he likened them to car salesmen.
We have looked at some other houses. I'm only asking that it have more living space and some people nearby for me to play with. The rest can be negotiated. I'm concluding that in the off chance some city-slicker offers us a king's ransom for the cabin, we can then find a place to our liking as there are loads for sale at the moment...afterall, it IS officially spring.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
mid March case of the ughs
Sigh...ugh...blah, where is the green already? Apparently when one lives out in the sticks, it is a rite of spring to burn...everything in sight! It's an Illinois prairie phenomenon - fire. It rejuvenates the fields of grasses and takes out saplings. Ok, i get it, really i do. My handsome hubby "Thor" is taking his role of lightning bolt dude waaaaayyyyy too seriously. The other day he says to me, "If I holler at you to call 911, don't hesitate, seriously." I looked up at him from my spot on the sofa and compasionately reponded, "How am I gonna hear ya with the windows closed?" (ever the practical virgo, first born, teacher, mom girl!) He just said not to worry that I would indeed hear him. I guess the wind was just perfect to burn one side of the lake, whatever pyro. So Thor comes in and says to look out the window - - smoke. Greeeat dude, having fun? He was all kinds of excited. Fire + men = entertainment.
So yesterday he did it again. He wind spoke to my Thor yet again. This burn didn't go quite so smoothly. The boys were called out to stomp the fire out of the neighboring cornfield. The boys came in coughing and stinkin' and all kinds of mad about Thor and his fire. Hehehehe, oh Thor, you make me laugh.
So what was once light brown is now black, soon to be green and lush. Laura Ingalls would approve of my little cabin on the prairie.
So yesterday he did it again. He wind spoke to my Thor yet again. This burn didn't go quite so smoothly. The boys were called out to stomp the fire out of the neighboring cornfield. The boys came in coughing and stinkin' and all kinds of mad about Thor and his fire. Hehehehe, oh Thor, you make me laugh.
So what was once light brown is now black, soon to be green and lush. Laura Ingalls would approve of my little cabin on the prairie.
Monday, March 14, 2011
subbing vs. teaching
After 5 years in my own classroom with urban high school students, subbing in a little k-12 school out in the country is c-a-k-e! Ok, so there is the thing about not getting paid a regular salary, which in this economy makes me nuttier than a squirrel turd, but still. It must be a little bit like being a grandparent vs. a parent. You pop in to the picture, smile a lot, have a snack, talk to the kids about what they are working on today, do general supervision, and you expect the kiddos to behave themselves. Here the fun bit is the variety in grade levels. One day I played with lincoln logs and handed out milk to 4yr olds and the next I'm in a computer lab with sophomores making power points.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sometimes I wish...
He's handsome, he's funny, he's sexy, he talks non-stop, he tries to kiss me non-stop, he wants me non-stop...and while part of me loves the attention, sometimes I just want - less. This is coming from the woman who wanted nothing but attention during the 1st marriage. I don't want my beautiful man to change one bit. He's rough around the edges and I love that about him. He drinks out of the milk carton with the fridge door open. He shaves...occasionally. He completely adores me in every state of dress. He makes me laugh 'til I pee a little. He charms every one he meets. He sings to me in that husky voice on request, or just when a song comes on the radio that reminds him of us.
Ok, I'm a selfish beeyatch. Sometimes I push his burly face away if he tries to kiss me when I'm drinking my cafe. Or I will ask him to please stop talking while Oprah is on the tele. I gave up some things to marry him and move out here to the sticks. What I got in return is more love than I can handle!!! LMAO
Ok, I'm a selfish beeyatch. Sometimes I push his burly face away if he tries to kiss me when I'm drinking my cafe. Or I will ask him to please stop talking while Oprah is on the tele. I gave up some things to marry him and move out here to the sticks. What I got in return is more love than I can handle!!! LMAO
Saturday, March 12, 2011
awww crud...
what happened? I started to tell a story and the screen blanked out. Ok well, I get the hint. I am a 40 year old mother of 2 boys, 11 and 13. After 10 years of being married, 5 years of being divorced, I married a great man last October 10th, 2010, and that is where THIS story begins!
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