Time And Tide

Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or to lose. Lyndon B.Johnson

Sunday, February 29, 2004

Snow is gone and it will be in the 60s today. Aside from the fact that more and more lately, even just before the snow, we've hit higher temperatures. Daffodiles and crocus are in bloom and the roses are greening. They are the first signs of spring...visible evidence that the wheel of the year continues to turn. Odd that just a couple of days ago we had snow on the ground. I love the crocus flowers. We used to have hyacinths but they smell so good the dogs would chomp at the blossoms as they ran by and dig at the roots and now they don't bloom anymore.

I love spring flowers. Two days ago, Jacob picked and brought to me the first buttercup of the season. Before long, the patch in the back will be bursting with the bright yellow blooms and Doug will gather a large bunch for me to put on the kitchen table. In a month or so, we will have our first roses. I love flowers. When I first moved here with Doug, I would spend evenings cutting baskets full of fresh flowers and dividing them into small arrangements. Every room in the house would have a vase of whatever we had in bloom at the moment. Rosemary, daffodiles, crocus, tulips and hyacinth in the spring smell so good, it's no wonder the dogs always tried to eat them.

Yesterday, Emily went to work with her dad. About 2:30 Doug called to say he was almost finished and they would be home as soon as he could convince Emily that it was time to go. He said she had worked so hard, and enjoyed it so much, she just wasn't ready to stop. Yesterday was a very busy day and Emily did a job to be proud of. She greeted customers, got drink orders, bused tables and anything else she could do. She went with a tray in her hand the entire time, always carrying something with her in each direction, always stopping to follow-up with the customers. I could hear the pride in Doug's voice as he told about the great job she did. He said every waitress on shift yesterday told him they couldn't have done it without her. It was an incredibly busy day and without Emily they would never have kept tables cleared and ready to seat the next group that came through the door. The customers adore her. People track her down before they leave in order to tip her and tell her what a wonderful job she does and how much they enjoyed her service. She glows with pride in the job she has done. Doug just overflows with it. I could hear the excitement in his voice as he told me about each server that said they couldn't have done it without her. I could hear it when he said she could (and did) outwork several of the girls working the floor.

Leirin has a different future in store for her. Doug knows as well as I do that it would be wrong for us to expect or pressure her into going into the restaurant when the time comes. She wouldn't be happy there. He understands that and is willing to accept it. But Emily has a knack for it. It's in her blood, just like it's in his. It thrills him to see her beg to go to work, to understand more than the basics of good service. Jake's time in the working world hasn't come yet. He will learn the business side, because Jake's a money man. He has the concept of costing. Doug has visions of Jake with a banker's visor on his head and Emily is the hostess with the mostest. If the time comes when they decide the restaurant business isn't right for them, he will understand, just like he understands Leirin's choices. For the moment though, in Emily he sees the future of the business he has worked so hard to build.

The restaurant takes so much of him...so much of his time and his thought. It is good for him to be able to share parts of it with the kids now. We don't ask them to go to work, but they are allowed to go do jobs suitable for them if they want to. They are paid the same wages for that job that anyone else who works there makes because they are capable of doing that job completely. Leirin washes dishes - she is the master of the machine-o-suds. Emily is a people person. In one shift, she can do the job of bus-boy and hostess just as well as the girls who've done the job for 7 years. She impresses, both our waitstaff and the customers and Doug wouldn't pay any less for a job just as well done. They understand more why Doug is taken from home so much of the time. They still don't like it, but they are able to understand and it helps to keep it from feeling like he chooses work over us because they have seen firsthand what the job demands of him. I am glad they get to spend that time together.

Nothing much going on here today except major house cleaning. I am not sure how I can spend as much time as I do cleaning house every day and still end up with this kind of disaster, but it happens. Regularly. At least I only have one load of laundry.

Thursday, February 26, 2004

And everything is right with the world

It’s snowing. Anybody that knows anything about me knows how much I love the snow. We are expecting up to 5 inches today with up to 8 possible by tomorrow morning – a VERY big deal when we can go years and years and years without seeing snow. I bet I’ve walked 30 miles this morning just going to the front door to stand at the edge of the porch with my face to the sky while snow whispers all around me. It makes everything good.

The kids are bundling up for the second trip of the morning out into the great white wilderness (the one inch of snow in the back yard). Nothing makes them as excited as snow does. They’re only good for about 15 or 20 minutes though. It’s cold out there. Doug, as usual, has gone to work. That’s the yankee in him. “Snow? This isn’t snow!” says he. Hmph, 15 years he’s lived here, you’d think he’d know by know that snow shuts everything down and causes countywide shortages of milk, bread and toilet paper. It’s a rare enough event that I think we should stay home, drink hot chocolate and sew. For some reason when it snows I get the urge to sew. I may set the kids to cutting out quilt squares later. We’ll call it math so Jake’s school day isn’t completely lost. Lucky thing we’ve been working on measurement anyway. We may even bake something later and throw in some fractions while we’re at it. It’s futile to attempt a full day of school with him when his sisters are out of school. What is snow? Where does it come from? Why doesn’t it snow here as often as it does in other places? Hey, I think we can cover science and social studies too. Make him speak in complete sentences and we’ve got the whole lot of subject areas under control.

The kids have made it a record amount of time outside so far - 35 minutes and they’re still going. I’ve bumped up the thermostat and set up a little space heater in the kitchen so they have a good place to warm up when they make it back inside. Luna (the min pin) is sitting on my lap, wrapped in the edges of my robe (yep, I’m still not dressed) trying to get warm enough to stop shivering. 5-pound puppies aren’t made to withstand extreme weather. Jake just came running in for a quick potty break. Judging from the number of irritated grunts and groans, I’d say he’s just discovered how hard it is to pee when your hands are frozen stiff and you’re wearing layers upon layers of wet clothing.

I think for school today we will settle for just making a memory. I think maybe kids today don't get enough of those. I remember clearly every single time I’ve seen snow in my life. Once, when I was probably about 10 years old, we were at my grandparent’s house. I think the roads must have been good because all of my aunts and uncles and cousins were there too. We built snowmen that were like, 12 feet tall. The cousins (all boys), my brother and I would start a little snowball and roll it until it became this huge roll thing that took all 4 of us and our Uncle Tony to push. Our little gloved hands were stuffed into Army issue wool socks and we had loaf bread bags wrapped around them to keep dry Rubberbands held them around our wrists. Same thing with our feet – bread bags make awesome snow skis. Like I said, we don’t tend to require a lot of heavy-duty winter clothing. Cloth gloves and any old boot will usually suffice around here, but snow requires getting inventive. Once our snowman had a nice large hay-bale sized bottom, we started piling smaller snowballs on top of that until one of us would have to climb on Tony’s shoulders to add the small, round snowman head. When we tired of making snowmen, we’d walk in the pasture and jump into drifts of snow, trying to guess if they might have horse or cow poop under them or not. Frozen cow poop poses no threat to a sunbeam bread bag. It was a long time ago and we had no such thing as cable television, gameboys and playstations or even VCR’s to watch movies on. We had three channels and they depended heavily on clear skies for the signal. Entertainment was thin. Ahhh, the good old days…back when broken tree branches became forts and horse poop and hickory nuts were the weapons of choice. My kids have no idea what they’re missing. We didn’t know how good we had it. Such is the way, I guess. Maybe today can remedy some of that.












Thursday, February 19, 2004

Busy, busy, busy! I've been cleaning the basement and the rest of the house like a mad woman. It makes me feel good, while stuck waiting on things I can do nothing about at this point, to be busy. And at the very least, in the end I'll be organized. Unless we move, that is, then I get to start organizing all over again. It feels good to let go of things and make decisions though. My kitchen looks so wonderful tonight I thought I'd surely miss my beautiful granite sink and copper faucet when we move. Too bad I can't take them with me.

From 8:00 this morning until 4:00 this afternoon I had the tedious job of sorting through two years of cash paid out receipts that were saved from our basement flood in the year of the busted condensor pump (last year). I had to sort by year and then write the total of every receipt down by category (food, office, maintenance and repair, etc) and now they have to be added up so we can finally get our taxes done. There are only a couple of things I haven't been able to find copies of or recreate. What a pain in the ass taxes are. Hate them! I have had to read so many waterlogged, ink faded receipts I'm about to go blind. It's finished now though WHEW. Thank goodness! No more receipts for me and I'm glad that the husband has started tracking all this stuff daily in his handy-dandy notebook. I am done forever! I faxed reports to the state employment security commission and the state DSS office and I no longer have paperwork waiting except for some state forms that have to be mailed by the 28th. GO ME!

Finally, shortly after 4:00, I dragged my sorry butt from the office chair and slogged off to start housework that I hadn't lifted a finger to do yet. Beds unmade, sinks in dire need of swishing, toilets, laundry piled sky high, you name it, I hadn't done it. I started in my bedroom because I can not relax if it's not clean. It didn't take long to get it to the point where vacuuming would be sufficient and I went into the kitchen to start dinner. Doug was supposed to be home tonight but he's having one of those days and 5 people had called in sick for the dinner shift. The dogs were all underfoot so I decided to let them out back to play for a bit. I opened the door to the most perfect day we've had since early Fall. The sun was shining and it was toasty warm. I could almost smell the earth waking from her long winter's nap. The air is green and Spring will be here before long. For a second, standing there in the doorway I imagined myself hanging clothes on the line (at our new house, of course, I don't have a clothes line here) and the smell of acres of green grass, horses, and hay. I have been consumed by it, I know. I can do nothing without thinking about doing that same thing in the new house.

It's been 12 hours now since I started working this morning. I'm going to have a nice, hot bath and spend the rest of the evening sitting in bed, working on the laptop. Assuming I can stay awake that is. Now that I've sat down I'm feeling mighty sleepy.

Friday, February 13, 2004

Today I'm putting the trim up in the office. Funny how some work is just extra condusive to mind wandering. I'm down in the basement ripping a board and suddenly I think "Where will I get enough boxes to pack all this crap in?", "Do I really want to put the extra nice molding I paid 2.00 a foot for up or should I carry it with me?" Then I start thinking that if I carry it with me that means I'll have to do trim in at least one room and I hate doing trim work. Hate it.

That's right. We've got pre-approval on our home loan and we're ready to wheel and deal on the house that I adore. That means now it's time for me to stress myself out. Completely. So far, so good. I'm worried about having to bid high enough that we can't afford to install the heat and air and fix the bad shingle job and buy fencing and repair the barn. I'm worried that if I don't work now all this stuff will be piled so high and needing to be done when it comes time to move that I'll never get out from under it. I'm killing time because I'm ready to move NOW.

We love that house. Honestly, in spite of everything it needs I stopped house hunting pretty much the minute I walked into this one. I love it and I want to live in it. Doug wanted to make sure we had seen everything but we both kept coming back to this one. It will provide everything we need for room and there is more room to be had if we want it. I can picture our kids playing in the front yard with almost 1/4 mile of room to run between the house and the road. I can see Doug walking into the back yard to pick apples, figs, cherries, peaches and grapes and picking up pecans and black walnuts off the ground. How peaceful it will be to walk out in the morning and smell hay and horses, hear little goats bleating or whatever you call that sound they make. I want to spread a blanket under the circle of old trees and lay with my husband in the light of the moon and let the stresses of the day give way to night's song.

I'm going home.





Thursday, February 12, 2004

Itsy Bitsy Spider

I have been bitten by a brown recluse. The doctor said there isn't really any treatment he can offer (I'm not sure how confident I am in this particular doctor I had to see today). He advised keeping the bite area clean and if it gets much bigger he mentioned putting me under the care of a surgeon that can properly maintain the affected area to avoid as much skin
loss as possible. I'm not sure how comfortable I am with just waiting around to see how much of my leg might rot off. I mean, I saw pictures of the bites yesterday when I was trying to decide for sure if that's what I thought this was and EWWWWW. I'd just wait for that to happen to me? I'm all about the medicine. Some things I can wait through, fevers, flue, colds, allergies, they pass but wait for a softball sized hole to appear? Don't think so. EWWWW again.
Actually it doesn't appear to be that kind of bad. This morning it is not any bigger though the bugger does hurt like I've dropped my entire calf into a fryer. It's amazing how fast and unexpected things can sneak up on ya. By the time I noticed the bite was more than just a sore place with nothing visible there, I had black skin. One more time, EWWWWW.
Scary spiders. Bad spiders.
It isn't the first time I've been bitten by one. Several years ago I squashed one with my knee that I had apparently scared out of it's dark corner of a bookcase under the window when we were moving furniture. It hurt like crazy but nothing turned all balck and gross. Doug was bitten several years ago and his story, while not as filled with the horror of some I've read about while trying to identify this one, is horror enough. He has a scar deep enough to sit a soft ball in and hold it on the outer part of his thigh just like you'd up a golf ball. It's deep and ugly and it took forever to heal.
I have plans for that side of my leg. I'd kind of like it to remain in tact.

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

You want the good news or bad news?
According to the inspector, news on the house is good. Nothing needs to be done that I can't fix, except the repairs on a crappy shingle job. The bad news? If we'd have paid him to do the inspection to find problems, we'd have wasted a lot of money. It's built like a castle. In a hundred years the house has not settled. There is not one stress fracture to be found. The attic is dry and the Gods must be happy with me because the attic is big enough to finish! WooHoo! An attic remodel of my very own. Eventually, that is. Plenty of time for Linda to plan a quick vacation with me. I'll show her how to get a job done. We won't ask any men to help. ;)

If I don't get to live in this house I'll just curl up and die. Not really, I guess, but it will be bad.

Yesterday I painted the closet doors and completed touch-up work in our bathroom. All that is left to do in there is redo the caulking around the tub and repair a couple of tiles in the floor. The bedroom is now ready for a floor and all work there is done. Today I'm painting the French doors (they are turning out lovely so far but it's a pain to paint small paned glass trim) and getting ready to do the repair work in the bay window and put trim in the kitchen. I hate trim work. Most of my house is missing the trim because I put it off for absolutely as long as I can. I don't like doing it. The good news is I don't have to do the built ins I was planning for the office. If I'm leaving here I don't care where the people who move in put their books. The probably won't have as many as me so they won't need shelves in every room 5 book cases and built-ins too. Good break for me.

Last night I got a call from my friend Michelle. She makes me wish I wasn't so afraid of flying. I'd be on a plane to Australia and have myself a visit with her if I weren't. She says we must be twins separated at birth. I agree. We are so much alike. I don't understand why all the people I've met that I love dearly and can be real friends with have to live a world away. Why I can't make friends like that here at home is beyond me. I meet people but I have yet to meet anyone I have a lot in common with except for Sharon. Sharon is Sarah's mom (that's a friend of Leirin) and she is the first friend I've made in real life in ten years. She fixes stuff in her house all the time too. She's funny and smart and the first person I've felt really comfortable with in a long time. She reads my book when I have something new and she will note her suggestions but my favorite part is how she highlights parts she likes in yellow (gold bars instead of gold stars) so I can look back over it and know they are good. Sounds like I should ask her out doesn't it? I don't think it's that I have a hard time making friends, I just have trouble finding people I have things in common with and I hate that when I do find them, all but one live far far away.

In other news, Jake has lost his first tooth. Naturally it is one that did not need repair (he has genetically bad teeth). Seven thousand dollars worth of bad teeth in his mouth waiting to be worked on and he has to lose a good one first. Go figure.

Emily is home from school sick again today. She can't keep anything on her stomach. I think it's because of her sinuses but we're heading to the doctor later today to see if they can at least help with the sickness. Besides, we need that all important 80 dollar doctor's note for school. Hate that. They make all these rules about when kids can't come to school for things not requiring a doctor's visit but expect you to make one to get a note. It's expensive.

School will take twice as long today because Emily is home again and Jake has a hard time concentrating when people who aren't usually here are here. It makes getting anything done difficult. I also have to paint the French doors and get read to put the trim in the office. It never ends.

Sunday, February 08, 2004

Gather 'round children and I'll tell you the tale of Gimli, the puppy with teeth.

Once upon a time there was a little girl with a vision of her future. Vision Girl worked on a farm (for no pay) just to get a chance to be around horses. Horses were her future and she intended to make sure she could spend her life working with, or near, horses no matter what it took from her to do so. Vision Girl had a way with animals. She could tame the wildest of cats (except that one that took the vent cover off the bathroom floor that one time and made it's escape through the ductwork, but that's another story), calm the most excited of happy, jumping puppies. She had a way about her.
One day, while working on the farm, Hero-Man approached the workers with a sad story of orphaned puppies he found. There was just this one more sweet little black bug of a pup that needed to find a home. Would any of these kind people help by giving this adorable dog a home full of love and much needed nourishment? Well, Vision Girl got right on the phone and called Sucker Mom. She knew Sucker Mom would not be able to turn down any furry thing in need. They already had ummmm, we're not even sure how many furries they had at the time but it was more than twelve. Sucker Mom loaded the others up in the car with the necessary supplies and went to pick up Orphan Pup and proud Vision Girl.
Orphan Pup was adorable! He had big floppy feet and soft puppy ears. His fur was like velvet and his eyes told sad stories of lost mommy and noone to love. Sucker Mom knew it would not be difficult to find Orphan Pup a good home. He was a sweet little thing indeed. Smart too. Within a couple of days, he was asking to go outside and sleeping mostly through the night in spite of having smaller than small puppy bladder. He had learned to sit on command almost instantly and never failed to please. Everybody loved him, especially Promise Man and their other two Promise Kidlets. Sucker Mom would never notice the difference in having another dog (their 6th) because Promise man and Promise Kidlets would take care of him. They would love him and hug him and squeeze him and stroke his little belly...
That little puppy grew and he grew and he grew. Within a month Orphan Pup had far outgrown the other small dogs in the house and was now bigger than all of them combined. He played gently with Little Mean Dog though and Old Fart Dog kept him in his place. All Dog, though small, was full of fire and play and had a grand old time hanging onto the end of the chew toy and flopping in the wind as Massive Dog flew around the back yard with the other chew toy end in his mouth. Prissy Dog, as usual, just ignored them all.
Massive Dog brought the family much happiness. He even proved to be a good teacher, like the time he taught Forgetful Boy not to take his brand new shoes off and leave them on the floor. Massive Dog's patience was long and when Forgetful Boy once again forgot his BRAND NEW SHOES on the floor, he once again instructed him in the reasons that should not be done. The dog has the patience of Job, even going so far as to teach Trusting Girl that shoes on one's feet, dangling happily off the chair while gaming are not necessarily safe from Massive Dog Teeth. The half-dollar sized hole right in the top of her shoe was evidence of a lesson well learned.
Aside from the role of patient teacher, Massive Dog is well versed in the laws of physics, proving by experimentation that a rung chewed to the size of a toothpick can still support the weight of a person at dinner without allowing the chair to collapse. Sucker Mom had heard her grandma say more times than she could remember that she mopped so often that she took the finish right off the floor. Sucker Mom always thought Drama Granny was full of it but Massive Dog, with the help of his massive paws, helped her to understand that yes, a finish can indeed be mopped right off a floor.
Massive Dog also serves as the household counselor, teaching Sucker Mom the important lesson of knowing when to let go. Like that time when Massive Dog ate the office chair. Being a tightwad, Sucker Mom and Forgetful Boy made a project out of carefully repadding and recovering said chair, turning the sad and torn chair into a work of comfy art. Or so they thought. Massive Dog spent an entire week helping Sucker Mom see the error of her ways. A chair that needs to be trash, with a new and fancy covering, can still be a chair that needs to be trash.
Sucker Mom looked upon the wise Massive Dog this morning, his fluffy white chair stuffing beard adding to his look of intelligence and had to wonder what they ever did without him.

Friday, February 06, 2004

I've also been to Nassau but it's hardly worth creating a whole map for. I will never go back I'm sure because once I made it through the plane ride there, I was quite sure I couldn't do it again to get back home. And there you have the reason that the only places I've visited are within driving distance of my home...also forgot to add Georgia and Florida to my map. Can't ever do anything right the first time. Wonder why that is? Is it genetic? Can I blame my mom?
Oh well...

This is just to make Cate feel better.


create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Post Punch Bowl

I was amazed to find that every room in my house was practically as it was before more than 30 people arrived for the first annual punch bowl. Vacuuming was practically all that was required to bring the house to it's previous ready for company state. Cool!
The kitchen, well, that was another story. Took the whole day to bring it back from the landfill it had become. I can't complain though. Every single person here brought their dishes and trash to the kitchen and it did make my work a lot easier. I'd have easily spent several days recovering the entire house rather than one full one on the kitchen, so I'm down with that.
The party was great. Aside from the fact that my husband missed the halftime show because he got caught up in conversation in the kitchen while making a beer run. Being the sweet wife I am I did the search and found the boobie pics for him. Close-ups even. He owes me big.
Hey, he lets me keep a Spike picture. I don't mind if he gets a boobie peek. See? Good wife.

Stock report...we have sat down with a list of my picks (including those we did not purchase) and my track record is good. I'm up 300% and have yet to pick a dud. Go me! I'm a natural. Psychic or something. I'm hoping that will translate into filthy rich sometime in the near future. Considering that my initial 500 bucks is now almost 1900 in less than 8 months, I think it could be possible. Eat your heart out Louis Nevallier! Take that, Warren Buffet! hehehehe
I have real ammunition in the I Told You So department. Netflix (picked at 12, refused to let me buy at 12) now sells for 72.73 and Taser picked at under 50 (also refused to let me buy) is now sitting pretty at more than 150.00.
Today I am babysitting. This afternoon, at least. That means I am about to have to get off my rear and get school and housework done. I want a nap already. I've had so much coffee I have the shakes and still I have no energy. Go figure.
Anybody have a vitamin?