Time suckers: Hot tubs and gardens

I was just going to water the garden.  That is all.  I wasn't dressed for down and dirty.  Just put on the sprinkler, and walk away.

Well.

I remembered that I wanted to put in permanent markers for the different plants (as opposed to the plastic thing sticking in the ground) and so I found the metal things and a stapler and started that "project."  Then I realized that many of the little plants had yellow leaves.  So I nipped those off.  Then I decided that it was time to come up with something for the peas -- so that they could grow up instead of trailing on the ground.

As you can see from the above picture, the garden is no longer sexy looking.  It looks like a carnival.  But the DAMN dogs kept running into it, and so I had to come up with something quick and dirty to take care of THAT problem.  GRRRR.  So with the few stakes I could come up with and the last bit of orange tape and some string, I came up with one ugly fence!  Well, it works.  I did that yesterday.

One of the DAMN dogs, waiting for someone to throw a stick.

I love the stakes and string combo, so that is what I devised for the peas.  I still need to come up with something for the tomatoes, but I am going to wait and see which ones survive.  Between all this rain and wind, some are taking quite a hit.  On the other hand, those that are weathering all the things thrown at them are getting quite hearty.  Survival of the fittest!  Always in play, even in the garden.

I found two little towers in the greenhouse to use as pea fences too!

So, before I knew it, I was dirty and well, I decided to check out the hot tub to see how that fared.  We have had nothing but headaches with that thing since we got it, however many years ago.  Peter has tried everything to get it "right," and it was all good until last summer, when he decided to drain it and not use it until Fall.  BIG mistake.  All this gook hardened in the lines and since then we have been battling what basically looks like dry skin floating around.  It was beyond disgusting, and no one would even go in it, so we drained it yesterday and I climbed in and scrubbed it within an inch of its life.  Then we refilled it.

Well.  The thing is, we can't use the artesian well to fill it, because it is 500 gallons and we don't have that much water.  So.  We have a dug well and so we use that, and we have a filter attached to it so that the water goes in clean.  But it has too much something in it, some brown mineral, so the water always turns brown.  When I opened up the tub, alas, BROWN TEA again, and more of that crap stuff floating.  I told Peter and he said he was done.  He quit.  Wasn't going to deal with it anymore.

So I have been running the clean cycle over and over and over and cleaning out the filters.  And somehow, the day seems to be disappearing before I can even decide what I am going to "do!"

Meanderings on May 29

I finished planting the garden today.  I was going out, rain or shine, and fortunately it was just cloudy and not too cold.  Dare I say, it was just right!  The dirt was so easy to work with, all wet but not too gooey, and there were worms everywhere!  How delightful, to see the little guys and know they are enriching the soil.

I know.  I was a little disturbed by the fact the worms excited me so much too.  But what are you going to do?

It took so long ... first I had to put down the weed stuff, and then I actually used a tape measure ... I don't know why.  Because the other half of the garden looked so damn organized!  I found it so interesting (and this is ridiculous and probably something I should keep to myself, but this is a filter-free blog!) that the pumpkin seeds I put in the ground were ... well.  Pumpkin seeds!  Yes, yes, I know that is over the top moronic to say, but I don't know, I guess part of the reason that I am doing this whole gardening thing is to know where my food comes from. And it is certainly mindful to realize that our food comes from seeds!

How come when you eat the seeds a pumpkin doesn't grow inside of you?

The dog was over by the garage clearly playing with a snake.  She kept sniffing around in tall grass and then jumping away, then going back.  I know it was a snake.  But no, I didn't go look.  I didn't want to faint.  The lawn needs to be mowed because all it does is rain, and everywhere I look there are snakes slithering in the grass.  (Well, it SEEMS like there are).

I believe a snake-free world would not be too much to ask for.

I found one of my earrings today, which pretty much is like a perfect birthday gift.  They are pink studs, my mother gave to me when she came back from Italy.  I've always loved them, and wear them several times a week.  A few months ago I lost one, and then shortly after that lost one of my pearl earrings.  I don't lose earrings all that often, so it was kind of weird to lose two of my favorites in such a short span of time.

So when I came across the pink one just sitting on a chair in my bedroom, underneath something, it was like a game of concentration, you know, where you turn over a card and try to match it with its like card by remembering.  I kept thinking, I KNOW the other one is somewhere else ... which means I would have two.  (I know, I am brilliant at times).  So.  It was not in my earring spots, so I kept thinking, I see it every day, so where is it?  On my desk!  The second one was there where it's been since I lost the other one, just a constant reminder of an irreplaceable item.

And now there are two, and they are safely lodged in my ears and I feel complete again, because I can replace the pearl earring easy enough.  But these would require a trip to Italy, and I know without a shadow of a doubt my mother would have no recollection where she got them.

So it's all good.   Or is it?

I mean, a trip to Italy, in search of a sparkly pink earring is exactly something that I would do.

Hmmmmmmm.  

Appreciation and thanks

Okay, as promised:

I am glad that I have the children that I do.  They are all awesome and the teenage years were a piece of cake with Hallie, seem to be swimming along problem-free with Maddie and Charlie, like wine, improves with age.  I enjoy all of them and am thankful that they communicate with me as openly as they do.  Thus far, they haven't given me anything I can't handle -- not by a long shot.  And no, that is not a challenge!

I have to say, the visit to the DMV today was so painless, it warrants a comment.  I walked in, I was the second person in line, I handed my stuff to the woman, she couldn't have been more pleasant, we chatted, I watched the people on either side of me get irate, yell and be frustrated, but not me!  Though, this is interesting.  I don't wear glasses and while I do have a left eye that is a little blurry for distances (and has been for as long as I can remember) I really do have good vision.  But seriously, every time I look into that eye thing at the DMV, I always mess up.  So today, I read the line and pull my face from the box and look at the woman and she is looking at me with the most curious expression.  And she said, "Wow, you didn't get any of those right."

Which reminded me that another time I went to get a license the person asked me if I was legally blind after I read the machine!  So I said that to the woman, and she said that I must do something wrong with the machine.  So she held it while I pressed against it, and there were the letters, clear as clear can be.  

Honestly, I've NEVER encountered someone so nice ... I was in and out of there in 15 minutes tops.  And ... the picture isn't even that bad! HAHAHAHA.

Last weekend when my back was killing me, we had gone over to the harbor in the boat.  There were people all over the place (it was early morning) in their exercise clothes, and I was completely consumed with jealousy.  I watched as a couple started walking up the steep hill, and I literally felt sorry for myself because I could hardly walk.  I walk around that part of the lake from time to time, and it's a great workout.  Boo hoo for me.  But seriously ... I am grateful for the fact that I CAN exercise and hike and get my body to move and know that I am strong and in pretty decent shape.  It is something I often take for granted (except when I am struck down in major pain from a gardening injury) and I want to say that I appreciate it immensely.  It is such a major part of my life.

And lastly, because I don't want to get a bad rep as a PollyAnna, I am grateful that I can still sing Bye Bye Miss American Pie and not miss ONE SINGLE WORD.  I have no idea why I know every single word, but I do, and I am so happy that the brain cells haven't spit out even one teeny lyric.  EVERY word I'm telling ya!  (We sang it on the ride home from Concord today, and Charlie kept saying, this is the longest song in the world!  Yep, all 7 minutes of it.)

So now, I'm going to take my Chevy to the levy ... which cracked me up because Charlie asked "What is a levy," just like I did so many years ago when I first heard the song, and I had to say quickly that it was a type of dam without missing a word!

I am blessed.  And talented as hell :) (And modest as well).

Bitch and moan session

Ho hum, another rainy day.  I am going to have to suck it up and go plant in the garden, but it's not just raining.  It's COLD out too.  And the water is still brown and icky. Blech.

I also have to go have my license renewed, either today or tomorrow, and that is like a high priority on my list of fun things to do ... NOT!  It's not as bad as it used to be, or at least four years ago it was fairly painless, but I've had the renewal for like six weeks, and naturally have left it until the LAST moment. Double blech.

Maddie just finished her last final this morning and keeps running about the house yelling "I am in summer."  Has she looked out the window?  Has she been in this crazy climate for so long she's forgotten that summer is at least 60 degrees.  NOT FORTY?

I have a splitting headache, the third this month.  Which is pretty remarkable because I don't get headaches.   It feels sinus-related, so I am thinking allergies.  I don't get those either, but I guess we are always reinventing ourselves, so I guess the new me is going to be a cranky, allergic, headachy wench.  Works for me.  NOT!  LOL

I may have to break down and actually take something ::::::::choke:::::::: medical-related for this, because it's not going away and it's not easy to live with.  Nah, I know I'll just keep suffering, I'm ridiculous that way.

I "volunteered" for this slide show for the 8th grade dance, but I was tough and said that I would only do the show itself, not deal with all the equipment at the school that no one knows how to use to present it, and I was assured by the person who suckered me in that I didn't have to.  Of course, like all volunteer situations, there are only a handful of people who do all the work, and while I can still remain tough and tell the poor woman running the thing that I WILL NOT do it, I am not heartless and just plain mean, so I am irritated that I am ending up doing something I didn't want to do from the get-go (and knew was going to happen!)

So there is always the fine line, where do you say no because you don't want to do something, or when do you say yes because it's really not fair to have one person take on a huge load with no help?  QUADRUPLE BLECH!

Well, since the Gratitude line is so short, I think I'll go jump in that one for awhile.

LATER!

Oh my aching back!

So today I planted tomatoes, peppers and lettuce.  I ran out of the black stuff (keeps the weeds from taking over) and so I will have to finish up tomorrow.  I still have quite a bit left to plant, but it's getting more difficult to figure out where to put things, I keep thinking, hmmm, perhaps it needs to be bigger?  Of course, there are enough tomato plants to feed an army -- way more than any one family will ever eat, but I'll do something with them.  I put in three different kinds of lettuce and spinach -- it's gonna be one heck of a salad!

After doing all the prep work last Friday, I pretty much incapacitated myself.  My lower back was totally shot by Friday night and I could hardly walk.  That of course did not stop me from planting the flowers I had bought on Saturday morning, which required me hefting around buckets of dirt from the gator to the flower pots.  The problem with my gardening-related pain is that when I am moving around and working I am fine.  It's the moment I sit down.  Then I am screwed.

But ... we had that little issue of running out of water on Friday afternoon.  It was due to a blown well pump, so while the repair guy was working on that, I headed to a friend's house to take a shower.  Because I was SO dirty, after hefting all that sod, that I was dying for one.  She forgot to mention they had no hot water.  Well.  Let me tell you.  A FREEZING cold shower is an experience.  But I am happy to report that since I reminded them that their hot water heater was on the fritz, they were able to call in a repair person that night so that THEY could have hot showers in the morning.  Am I not a great friend?

Yes.  I am.  I hardly complained about the cold shower.  She was making me great mojitos and then served me a delicious gourmet meal.  She is a great friend too!

So, then on Saturday afternoon, with me being gimpy girl, we headed over to the cottage with the intent of being in a place with water, as ours was the most disgusting dirty brown because it had been upset by all the work.  It was NASTY.  While I made beds and generally cleaned up, Peter was out in the garden putting in the plants that he'd taken out earlier to put in the new wall.  Our life is really just one project after another it seems.  I couldn't even ENTERTAIN the notion of assisting him -- my back was totally shot.  I could hardly get out of a chair.  Painful.  But my brother-in-law jumped right in and they went to town, both that evening and on Sunday, work work work.  Me?  I just sat sat sat.  I was done for.   The weather, which had been so-so all day, just did a hocus pocus and it turned into a beautiful evening, with a smashing sunset.

But ... Peter had lit the pilot light for the hot water heater, so after he was finished working, he went to take a shower.  And guess what?  There wasn't any.  The hot water heater was broken!  Geesh.  I was so excited at the prospect of a hot shower ... and it didn't happen, two days in a row!

The boat went in on Sunday and we all went out for breakfast on the lake.  The weather was so-so, but by the end of the day it was smashing.  We went out to dinner on the lake too!  

I was concerned my back might never come back (ha ha) but on Monday morning I was able to do a four-mile walk without too much trouble.  I was slow at first, but I managed to work out the kinks about half-way into it.

So I planted today ... and my back is killing me again.  I hope it strengthens up, because I find it irritating.  But here's the funny thing.  Because the well people were supposed to come here today to put in a new tank and raise the pump in the well, the whole shower thing was going to be a problem again.  The cottage still has no hot water, and the prospect of getting all dirty and not getting a shower concerned me, as I had a lunch date at noon.

Anyway, because of that, I had the washing machine, the dishwasher and the shower all going at 8:30 this morning to try to get everything done before the water turns to that brown slop again.  But ... I was so happy to be clean that there was NO WAY I was going near the dirt until later.  As a result, by the time I went out to plant, Peter was home.  And he was nice enough to help me.  Except, we are such different people when it comes to approaches.  Once we had laid out the black stuff, I grabbed the tomato plants and started cutting holes in the stuff and planting.  He was beside himself.  Do you know how far apart they should be?  I shrugged and said sure, I'd been planting tomatoes for years, I could eyeball it.  No!  He shuddered.  You have to measure.  I was like, how ridiculous is that?

He called his foreman to ask him the distance, found out it was two feet, took out the tape measure and began to cut holes in the RIGHT amount of distance.  I just rolled my eyes and planted.  A tape measure?  Really?

Now granted, I am an eyeballer by nature.  I hang pictures by feel, and Peter takes out his tape measure and level and quite frankly, all the pictures look off kilter to me when he does it.  And just right when I do it!  A brain thing I guess.  So it would never in a million years occur to me to measure a garden.  I do not even care if that is how it is done.  It is just wrong.

I know that he wants to look at the garden and see everything all symmetrical and as it should be, but I think tomorrow I might plant the other half of the garden haphazardly, just for fun.  

BAHAHAHAHAHA.  You think I am kidding???

Garden of delights

So the garden idea, despite the threat of snakes, is on.  And despite my comments on not laying it out, etc. I find that I am really far more organized than I give myself credit for.

I have researched it, which is my way, and the general consensus was that for a first-time garden you should start with a 10 X 10 plot.  So, I had Charlie measure that out and I was like, oh that's for sissies.  Let's double it, if not more!

Peter came home and saw the stakes and commented that it seemed quite large.  I said it was fine, and my list of plants going in keeps growing.  It seems the ONLY thing I am not planting is corn and beans!

So Peter and Charlie cut the sod, and now Charlie and I have to roll it up and that is one buggy, hot and icky job.  Oh well.  I KNEW that was all part of it.  I really want to go to the greenhouse and purchase all the plants to put in.  Starting from seed is another step that I will take on in the future if this all works out, but there is no time for that now (thank heavens!)

So after a few hours of rolling up sod, digging up patches to place it, placing it, then hefting it all into the Gator to throw the surplus over the embankment, we had a nice little patch of dirt.  Now we are waiting for a delivery of compost so we can rototill that into the soil.  Which was delivered, and we raked it out (ooooh, love the aroma of cow poop!)

And now is the perfect time to head to the greenhouse and get the lucky little new residents of said plot.

Which we did.  And now, we have been thrown off schedule a bit by the fact our well isn't providing us with water.  Hopefully it is the pump, and they just arrived.  So I am off to intend that it is .... just the pump.

Ophidiophobia -- E-I-E-I-O

UPDATE for  5/20: go to bottom to read:

So I was out mowing the lawn -- and it is a fantabulous beautiful day out and the sky is blue and the trees are bursting in joy and I was rounding the corner of the greenhouse and was happily assaulted by the dual fragrances of a crabapple tree in bloom and a lilac, when all of a sudden, there slithering in the grass.

Was. A. Snake.

Whooosh (gotta lotta whooshing going on, don't I?) I was suddenly and inexplicably filled with the most incredible fear and I started yelling.  YELLING out loud, freaking out ... unable to think clearly because I was SURE, POSITIVE the thing was climbing up the lawn mower to get me.

You would have thought it was an anaconda for all the carrying on I was doing.  The dogs were at attention ... what was going on?  I was screaming bloody murder over the sound of the lawnmower and I couldn't get away from the spot fast enough nor could I even figure out how to get off the lawnmower fast enough, because don't you understand, I associated the lawn mower with the snake and I had to disentangle myself from the entire mess and get in the house.

PRONTO.

It was a brown snake, not very big ... but it was all slithering and moving and OHMYGOD I can't stand snakes, I am not afraid of much, but snakes ... OHMYGOD ... and here's the thing, I think my fear is getting worse!  Because normally I see a snake and move on.  This time I was completely consumed (WHOOSH I TELL YA) by the clear knowledge that the snake was going to get me.

A little over the top?  Oh, yes.

The fear of snakes is referred to as ophidiophobia -- and here are the symptoms:

dry mouth (gosh I need a drink)

fear of death (ABSOLUTELY, not even sure the house is safe)

Having severe anxiety attacks (is that what that was?)

Breathlessness (well I am still breathing ...)

Feeling of sickness (entire body tingling with disgust?)

Experiencing a sense of extrication (does that also mean GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE?)

Nauseau (well for heaven's sake, we don't have to go overboard)

Losing mental balance (that implies there was a balance to begin with)

Excessive sweating (well no, that's gross)

Not being able to speak or think properly (Again, implies that was there to begin with)

Fast and irregular palpitation of the heart.  (PADDLES, STAT)

Is there a cure?

Hell yes.

You stay inside.  On a ladder.

Update:  I killed the snake.  Charlie went out there this morning and found it completely sliced in half with the head chopped off.  I couldn't actually go out and see it, so he took pictures of it.  I feel awful.  I am a snake murderer.

The power of anger

Charlie's 8th grade class is going to Washington D.C. this week, and he chose not to go.  It is a lot of time spent on a bus, and somehow he got it into his head that it wouldn't be fun (how could it not be fun?) and so, he really has no reason to be in school this week.

So I was trying to come up with something fun and yet somewhat educational to do with him.  I have been going back and forth, forth and back about putting in a vegetable garden.  The main problem is that I absolutely HATE to garden.  With a passion.  And yet, the thought of fresh vegetables straight out of the earth has such an appeal to me, it almost outweighs the part where you know, I hate it.

I was mowing the lawn the other day and there is this patch by the garage that grows like mad.  It always has, and I thought to myself that THAT would be the spot -- it is close to the hose that draws off the dug well, it gets tons of sun and yet it is protected by the wind from the house, and clearly things like to grow there.  So I've been mulling the idea back and forth, and then Charlie had a school project recently where he had to "live simply" for a day, based on stuff he had read by Thoreau, and I thought, we just out to go out there with shovels and dig until we can't dig anymore, and then plant what we can.  Forget about plotting it out (I hate that stuff too) blah blah blah, just dig a patch of earth and put in, well, maybe I'll go buy a lot of plants already started.  CHEATER!

So?

So I began to draw Charlie into the idea, and said that I wanted lettuce, tomatoes, cukes, peas and squash, what did he want?  He said he didn't like any of those, what else was there?  Geesh.  Fine, he can be a laborer, not an eater.  So he kept asking me skeptically if I too was going to turn up the earth, and I said Yes!  I am.

So Peter came home and Charlie made reference to the fact that he wasn't going to go to school, but that we were going to put in a garden. And Peter made a face and said "a vegetable garden?" And I said yes, and he then went on about how I never did anything with the little garden that I put in on the patio year after year (well, I went out and picked the stuff and ate it, what more was I to do?) But apparently, I had not proven myself worthy of something or other.

And then I got Mad.  No, I got furious.  That deep, seething anger that whooshes through you and you want to scream and yell and hurt people kind of mad.

Oh, I'm sorry, I felt like saying, I forgot how pathetic and stupid I was, thank you for reminding me of all of my shortcomings. 

And then he asked me what was for dinner, as I was winding up to break things.

So I came here instead, and this is the nice version of how I feel.

Fame, what is it really?

Thank heavens for Oprah, because without her shows I am not sure I would have any inspiration!  (Just kidding, but for all the ways the woman drives me nuts, her shows do make me think.)

So, she had Simon Cowell on and the show was about all the talent shows there are around the world, and there was an exclusive interview with Susan Boyle as well.  First, let me discuss Simon.  I've never really felt one way or another about him, but he is totally in love with fame and fortune.  He was downright drooling in the presence of Oprah.  I think he's a guy who feels he's made a decent success of himself, but when he sees Oprah, he sees what he wants in himself.  He was flirting with her, which I think is his main weapon in regards to women, winking when he thought the camera was elsewhere, making sexual comments and I must say, throwing her off just a bit.  (Just a bit, because she IS Oprah after all!)  Simon Cowell wants to be Oprah.

Interesting.

So, Simon normally chooses good looking women (admittedly so, with the most unabashed of smiles says he) to mentor and turn into big stars.  So the Susan Boyle "thing" is a bit of a departure from his normal MO, but when he saw the attention she got ...

She is still in the running for the British version of his show, but whether she wins or not is meaningless:  Simon isn't letting her get too far from him.  He owns her now.  Does she know this?

I think not.

So as I watched all of these acts perform on the Oprah show, I began to wonder, before all of these talent-seeking shows, what happened to these people?  Why are we given certain talents in the first place?  It seems hard to believe that we are blessed with certain gifts only to use them to get famous on stupid tv shows.  And yet, with someone like Susan Boyle, who had a difficult time in school and has potentially never been kissed at the age of 47, isn't it better than living out her days in the same apartment she was born in, in a small town in Scotland?

I don't know.

Is she prepared to deal with the likes of Simon Cowell, who is going to flirt with her in order to jumble her brain cells so that she will sign a deal that delegates a good portion of her earnings to him?

I think not.

But none of these people are that savvy, which is why I am wondering if it's going to be okay.  The girl who was most recently kicked off American Idol, Allison something, was on the Ellen show, and her body language was all typical teenager stuff.  She is totally and completely uncomfortable in her own skin, and Simon saw that and kept telling her that she needed to have more personality.

Well, personality doesn't grow on trees, and her habit of shrugging non-stop is endearing the first time, and the first time only.  Then it is just irritating.  She's out of her league, no matter what her singing voice sounds like.  It's not just about singing or performing.  It's about a whole lot more than that, and if there wasn't a venue like these shows, kids like Allison would shine in their school plays with their fabulous voices and maybe sing at a wedding or two, but that would be that.  And maybe that is how it should be.

And who am I to say that someone is totally out of their league?  I have no right, but these are people who have placed themselves in the spotlight, and at times that light can be harsh.

As Ellen said to her, "your life is going to be very big from now on."

Is that good?  What about being a teenager and growing up ... isn't that such a big part of life that it shouldn't be ignored?

I don't know.

I guess it is how you define success.  There is certainly no reason to think that taking one's talent and creating an avenue where you can make a living utilizing it is bad.  In fact, I think that is partly what life is all about.

What I am questioning here is the process:  It is artificial.  The basis for all of it is money (and as we all know, is the root of all evil.)

And the fact of the matter is, I DO believe that, completely.

I fear for people like Susan Boyle ending up in the hands of people like Simon Cowell, for the way he truly feels about her is the way he looked at her when she first came out on stage: oh give me a break, you are an ugly dowager from nowhere, why are you wasting my time?

And then she sang.  And it all became quite clear to him.  She was ultimately priceless.

Because if I truly believed that he believed that you can't judge a book by its cover, then I wouldn't even be writing this.  But I don't.  He's the guy who wants to be Oprah.  He just wants. And if he wants you, it means you represent some value to him.  And so it is with all of the talented individuals who are "making it."

Will they ever know what it feels like to be wanted and loved and truly adored for their inner soul?

What is the price of fame?

 

I've got a beautiful feeling ...

Maddie's dinner dance, or whatever they call it.  Her first dress since she was ... a kid?

Goofing around.

!

Maddie and Steph.

Big storm comes upon the group waiting to board busses:

Hurry, the bus is leaving without us.

Oh what a beautiful day

With a beautiful day stretching ahead, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what was the perfect thing to do.  I was going to climb a mountain, but then my sister mentioned the beach.

The beach!  Perfect!  I thought it over, and within seconds determined that it would be lovely to jump into the Jeep and head to the seacoast.

So I did.  I picked up Tomasen and off we went, with the sun pouring down on us we joined a modest group of others who were drawn to the lure of the sea.  We walked for about an hour, then made a peace sign out of rocks, chased the piping plovers ...

 

and then went out to lunch.  But let's discuss these silly birds.  They are really quite comical.  They have these funny legs that look disjointed when they rush, because they always seem to be in a rush, and you have to keep an eye on them because they blend right into the environment, and poof, they are gone.  In this picture it is actually running by me very quickly, so it is amazing it came out as clear as it did.  I love beach pictures and seem to have a thing going for the birds.

So then we drove along the coast and found a restaurant that was serving out on their deck, right on the water.

Perfect!  The sun was still shining, and just as we asked for our check, a big cloud came along it it started to get chilly.  Great timing.

We then went to a restaurant supply store so I could get a spring-form pan, but on the way there rain drops were falling on our head, so we drove under this roof and put up the top.  And it poured.  And then the sun came out again.

Oh well.  I drove back to Concord, where Charlie had a game, and have concluded that driving in a Jeep with the back windows out is TOO NOISY.  I couldn't hear myself scream it was so loud.  The sun was out in full force and all the rain clouds were gone, so Charlie and I drove home with the top down.

Perfect day.

But you should see my hair :P

yikes.

Oh what a beautiful morning

Writer dies of head explosion

So I had something happen today that's never happened before: dueling book characters are wrestling for brain space in my head.

How did this happen?

When I am working on a book, the characters become part of my daily life, and I am going over lines of dialogue or situations  constantly in my head.  I don't even notice it after awhile, because I am so used to it, and I would say the only people who are affected by it are my kids.  For all of a sudden I will realize that they have been talking to me and I am so deep into my head I don't notice.  Until they yell at me.

And accuse me of not listening.  Which is totally true, but still.  I am busy.  The thing about your head being busy is that you look like a dork otherwise -- just sitting there staring off into space.

Anyway.  For weeks now these particular characters have taken up full-time residence in planet brain, and things have been going along quite well.  But I "organized" my computer, offloaded a slew of pictures and tidied up my writing files, and well, now I can't find a damn thing.  It's a little irritating, but normally whatever I am working on takes up residence on the desktop.  But for some unbeknownst reason I hit the "organize desktop" button, and now I have no idea where anything is.  Oh. And because I took off all my pictures, the screen saver picture was in that, and so I had to change it to something that still happened to be left on.  It's been a bit of a fiasco.

The current screen saver is an ocean picture, so I can't really read any of the files sitting on the desktop.  Yes, I should change it, but who cares, whatever ... so today I had one of those brain freeze things and couldn't remember the name of the book I am working on.

That might sound odd, but I have working titles, permanent titles, and I have a few books that I am working on that don't even have titles.  But I only always work on ONE book at a time, and like I said, I can usually find it.

I was forced to go to the writing folder and scan through it for something to jog my memory.  By then I had of course remembered the file name, but I was amazed at how many other folders were in the writing folder.  Hmmmm.  So I started to look at them.  All little morsels and tidbits of story ideas.  Then I came across one called Gates and Gallagher.

Interesting name, I thought.  Like it.  Opened it.  LOVED IT!  Wanted more.  Let me just say this, there is nothing worse than getting into a book and then coming to the end and to the realization that the ONLY way you can ever read the rest is to write it.

Such a drag.  And probably not a common problem, but for me, it actually is.  

Anyway, the characters grabbed me and I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed.  Because the other characters were already in my head, and they weren't moving aside.

I couldn't work, so I put together a shopping list and headed south.  And it was so crowded in the car.  First off Margie wanted to bat it out with Walter, but then all of a sudden Jenny popped into my head and I started to visualize her, and then Walter yelled that he wanted more of his journal entries written -- that it was the best way to flesh out his character and prove that he was far deeper than I was portraying him ... then Gary Livingston joined the party and said that like Walter, he was misunderstood in the story.  The problem was, Gary and Walter are NOT in the same story.

What the hell!

I actually feel tired today.  And with a bit of a headache.  I never feel or have either, ever.  These characters are getting mighty damn pushy and I blame my bout of organization on the whole thing.  The whole mess!  The whole riot in my head that is wreaking havoc upon all of Lisakind.

You can't make this stuff up either.  (Even if you are a writer!)

Sooooooooooo sweet

UPDATE:  The little cakes are DELICIOUS!  Above is a picture of them, along with the delicious chocolates.

I made these raw chocolates yesterday and because I had already had the remains of the chocolate in the blender with my smoothie, and because the raw cacoa used in these recipes is very powerful (and will keep me up for days if I am not careful) I didn't actually taste one until this morning.

Oh my.

Maddie came out to get into the car to go to school and her mouth was full of chocolate and she was mumbling something about how delicious it was.  This was before I had tried it, and the way she was going on -- well, you can only imagine how anxious I was to get that little morsel into my mouth.

Oh my.

The recipe didn't make that many, so I had put the majority into the freezer and kept three in the fridge.  Maddie ate one and I quickly scarfed down the remaining two.  There are a few in the freezer, I may have to get a guard dog to keep them there.  I need to make more, but here's the thing, it's a bit time consuming.  They don't have a lot of ingredients, but I don't like super sweet, so instead of using the measurements in the recipe, I keep tasting and tasting and tasting until it is just right.  I have to figure out a way to measure that so that subsequent times will be easier.

I just made chocolate mousse cakes.  They are too sweet, I can tell already, and the entire time I was making them I was adjusting things in my head.  I always make the recipe as close as I can, but omit things that I know will make things sweeter than they need to be.  I learned today that coconut oil, agave and dates together are way over the top.  I've scribbled down a few adjustments, but right now I have 12 cupcake sized cakes and 8 mini-cupcake cakes in the freezer.  See, you end up with tons of those and very little of the chocolates!  Figures.

How do I know I won't love them as much?  Yesterday while making the chocolates, everytime I had to clean something, I used my tongue.  Because I couldn't get enough of it!  I was scraping the sides of the blender trying to get the last morsels out.  It was delicious.

Today, I tried the different components, and my initial thought was okay, but a little too sweet.  That is three sweet things combined, it's going to be too sweet.  But the good thing about the freezer is that it dulls the taste a bit, so it might be fine.

Above is the Chocolate Orange Cake that I want to make next.  Doesn't that look to die for?  I've studied the recipe and already made the adjustments that I think are necessary for it not to be too over the top sweet.

I have been very frustrated with the whole raw food concept because of the lack of fresh ingredients, so this is renewing my interest in it because I happen to have the ingredients on hand, and you can freeze things, so it's not a lot of work for a one-time meal.  Now obviously you can't eat this stuff all day long, but it's nice to have a little something on hand to stave off the sweet cravings, and the little cakes are made with avocado, so they will be very filling.

Maddie called and said she read my Facebook entry about making the little cakes and said she is dreaming about them!

I am telling you, those chocolates are THAT good.

Aren't you dying for one?

If this gravity gig quits, we're in serious trouble

Do you ever have one of those mornings when you wake up and there is a huge question running around in your head, and you vaguely feel that you know the answer, but you are not happy with the one word that doesn't really explain it, so you lay there and obsess?

No?  Really?

Because this morning the moment I opened my eyes, I was just completely blown away with the concept of the earth being round.

Seriously.

Last night I couldn't sleep.  At all.  I tossed, I turned, I deep sighed, I glanced out at the sky and wondered if there was a full moon, and noticed that the moon was waaaaaaay over on the other side of the sky (which meant morning was approaching.)  The last thought I had was how the sun and the moon rise and fall in the same place. (Not that this was an epiphany, more of an "oh no, I've managed to remain awake long enough to see the full rotation, aaaaargh!")

And then I woke up thinking about the sun and moon circling around the circle of earth, and for the life of me, despite my limited knowledge of gravity, just couldn't imagine why if you're on the bottom you don't fall off.  Or, okay, because of the whole gravity thing, why don't you feel upside down, or if you're on the side of the rotational spin, again, why aren't you laying down?

No, this is not the first time I've questioned this, but it has been one of those things not fully explained to my liking is all.  And I truly do not feel satisfied with any of the answers I have come upon.  They are all basically stated in terms of "It's gravity, moron," which is great, I knew that.  But I don't know why I knew it or what it really means, other than that it seems to work and no one is complaining.

Did you know there is actually a society who believes the earth is flat?  And the response to that is "If it was flat, you moron, you'd fall off the edge."  Which really makes no sense either, because we should be falling off in droves when we're upside down.

I am just saying.

This reminds me of the fax machine.  When we first had a fax machine installed at the office, it was because we belonged to some association that required you to have one so they could send you faxes.  This was a long time ago when the earth was green, and it was a technological wonder I couldn't seem to grasp.

HOW did it work?  I believe the answer I always received was "it comes over the line, moron."  Well, yeah, I get that (and gravity too!) but HOW does it come over the line?  I eventually did grasp the concept of digital information and how it is packaged up in little packets and executed through time and space (well not really) and then goes from one machine to the next and then is printed out.  Well, I mean, I get it in terms of not being able to explain it, I should add!

Is it normal to be concerned about such things?  Because, I've been reading about gravity and falling off the earth and I still can't really say, other than the fact that gravity always pulls from the center of the earth so that no matter which surface you are on you can still stand up, that I completely and totally "get" gravity.

Because seriously, does that REALLY answer the question?  I picture a person on a beach ball, and when that person is glued on (a cheap and easy replacement for gravity), when the ball is upside down, they don't fall off, but they are seriously getting head rushes.  BUT, if it was gravity holding them on and not glue, it just works better.  Huh?

So, there is a force of gravity between any two things, and the earth is the largest mass you deal with, and for everything that is smaller the force of gravity is less. (Like you versus everything else on earth.)

No, I don't really GET it either, I just get it.  Moron.

Queen. Mother. Freedom...

We were having dinner last night and some how my blog came up and Maddie commented that there were times that I was "out of line."

I asked her to clarify and she said, "well, for example, you just did one on the swine flu and you are lucky that the government doesn't go after you or something."

Why is that, I wonder.  Do they instill that fear somewhere along the line to our children, that if you express your opinion you can get in trouble for it?  

Is it true?  What about the fact that I was right?  This swine flu is really winding down as a big ole crash and burn pandemic -- though just in case you feel safe enough to sleep at night, they do remind you that it could mutate into something even WORSE.  (And as long as you keep it in context, even worse than no big deal comes out to a little bit bigger no big deal.)

But why is my daughter saying the government is going to come after me?  Has she not been following the news (well, filtering it I should say, since you can't take it at first-glance), because if she was she would realize that Obama has not been interested in turning this into a REALLY BIG DEAL either.  He's done as little as he can in regards to commenting on it, because everything does need to be addressed, but he has taken a wait and see attitude since the beginning.

What are the consequences of expressing your opinions (popular or otherwise) on a public forum?  I read some blogs where the commentary is just downright mouth-dropping off the charts, I mean, mine is G-Rated times ten compared to some of them, so it interests me that my own daughter thinks that my opinion, which is always strong and as far as I'm concerned, fairly well-informed, could pose a danger to me.  

Well, could it?

There was the incident of the school reading my blog and indicating that my words could be used against me in regards to harming my child, and there are times that I wish that I had let that blow up into a big ole mess, because I feel VERY strongly that I have every right to express my opinion in any forum that I wish.

But there is one thing I've learned over the course of keeping "principals" alive and "rights" in line, is that for the most part, the majority of people would rather just do nothing, so you're pretty much always going to be on your own, and how much of your life do you want to devote to issues that are mired in negativity?  I think that at this point in my life I have definitely concluded that "fighting" anything isn't the way to approach any possible solution.  But the fine line is that the fire inside is stoked by brash violations of our rights -- big or small -- and it is the anger and the sense of injustice that flames the cause.

So at what point can you take a fire you need to burn big and scary and turn it into something safe and warm?

I have no answers for this; it is something that I have lived with my entire life.  From the days of being a child and being told by my parents that "you can't change anything," to the realization as an adult that if I had JUST played the game, things would have been a lot easier.  (And then I instantly get sick at the thought that if I had become complacent and just stood in line naked on my march to the gas chamber: I'd just be dead.)

So I am constantly at odds with myself, one moment I am ready to jump upon my steed and rush into the center of battle and yet (when I turn around and realize that the mass crowd that started with me has now retreated) there is a part of me that is always wondering what other means there is to an end.  It's hard.

It's like I was designed to be the leader of a cause, and deep-rooted in my DNA are all these signals and deep-rooted motivations to make true change, and yet ... there really isn't any one big cause great enough worth unleashing it for.  It's like I am a souped-up race car stuck in a small track at an amusement park -- I could jump the car off the track, it's not that restrictive, but then what?

So I occasionally rev the engine and look around, and realize that despite the fact that I am equipped with all this power, there really is nowhere to go.

It's MADDENING I tell ya!

When I was in Sedona, I did this thing called journey work, and while in a deep, almost hypnotic state, I was asked to describe myself in one word.  She asked me three times, and these are the words that I said:

Queen

Mother

Freedom

So, if those are the things that I am, what does that mean?

It means something, and I guess it is my job to figure that out.

So Maddie, I apologize for concerning you via my words, but as you can see, I originate from three very strong words -- all of which mean big, big things.

A Queen is a leader, a mother is all-knowing and freedom is something not one of us should take lightly.

I know I don't.