Science class 101

Every gradeschooler knows that if there's thunder and lightening you don't go stand under a tree, or out in an open field, or I don't know, hold a 4 ft long length of rebar over your head while sitting on the wet grass. Right? Obviously, I am not a gradeschooler. It dawns on me from time to time that it really is amazing that I've survived as long as I have.

I'm frantically trying to get my last ditch garden stuff done, being as how it will be July next week. So I'm finishing up little things like stapling chicken wire on fences and building trellises. I found a WONDERFUL plan for upright trellises in the Book of Square Foot Gardening. Basically, you pound a couple of 4ft lengths of rebar into the ground and slip a 5ft or so length of 1 in. pvc over the rebar, then stretch cargo netting between the poles, attach to the pvc with zip ties, and voila! you have fabulous upright garden growth. Saves space, creates green walls, and looks like you might actually know what you're doing in the garden.

Neither the weather nor my level of motivation have been overly cooperative, and as a result, I am a little behind. So yesterday I swore I would get this stuff finished up. I awoke to a glorious sunny day, went to market and picked up some final flowers to stuff into the beds. I planted a few, scraped the weeds out of the driveway crack and watered the flower beds before the boy showed up to mow the lawn. I figured I could do some house stuff while he took care of the lawn, and then I would have all afternoon to finish up.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Mother nature being the unpredictable creature she is, decided that 20 minutes after the boy left, she would water my lawn. I literally had a "Huh?" moment when I noticed the sun had gone away and looming over me were big black clouds. Whatever. I was obsessed with pulling tiny little onion sprouts out of clumps and planting them individually. Bring it on! I was not moving.

I maintained this position as the skies opened up and began pelting me with cold, marble sized drops of water. One way or the other, those onions were going in. I dug through the mud, with grass clippings sticking to me and earwigs running for their lives, and planted each and every one of those precious little plants. Then there was a huge, ground shaking crack of thunder just over my head, and I looked up and realized I was laying in wet grass and mud, behind an open field, underneath a trellis made of 3 lengths of steel pounded into the ground. Like lightening rods.



You've never seen a fat girl move that fast.

It's for the birds

Birds suck.

Yes, I know I'm all "embrace the simple life" and "be gentler on the planet" and "try to live peacefully with nature". But that was before the birds pecked holes in all my cherries and ate the biggest strawberry whose ripening we were all anticipating with bated breath.

I went out to take a picture of the giant strawberry the other morning, and it was gone. Just gone. There was a stem and few hunks of strawberry innards. That's it. The instant the cherries started getting some color, they started to disappear. I had 17. Then 16. Maybe I just miscounted. Then there were 13. And two of those have......bird beak holes! Dang it! There's not enough wedding tulle in my house to save all the berry beds and the cherry tree.

I was fine with the robins eating the earthworms. I have plenty of worms and I don't use them to make jam. I was even good with planting sunflowers so the little finches and starlings would have some nice seeds to enjoy in the fall. After all, they provide their own form of entertainment. I am not as good with having owls and hawks dive bomb my chihuahua, but the planting of a couple of trees took care of that problem.

Blackbird, blackbird, baked in a pie........

Life in the Country

Ok - I don't live in the "country" per se. I live in suburbia in the country, where they tear out the trees and name the streets after them. But I do live OUT of the big city in a small town, with a buffer of farms and fields between me and the city. Now, the closest "field" to me is the cemetery on the other side of my back fence, but at least the neighbors are quiet.

I just don't know how anyone can live in the city. I lived in Houston at one point and I cannot fathom how people can be happy there. All the noise, smog, crime, homeless folks, traffic, people....ugh. I could never do it again. Admittedly, I do drive to the "city" to work everyday, about 30 miles, but half of my drive is through agricultural area, so I'm only traumatized for about 15 miles each way.

Here's why I love where I live. The other morning I had to go to the store. On my way to the store I saw baby bunnies, chickens walking down the road, schools of quail running around, a couple of goats sleeping in someones front yard, and even a couple of red tailed hawks (probably waiting to eat the bunnies I saw). I passed pastures with horses running around, fields with llamas and cows, and even smaller yards with sheep and goats. I had a male pheasant fly up from a field and directly over my car. The farmers were already out turning on water or riding their tractors with their dogs tagging along behind them. It was peaceful and beautiful. In the morning it smells like dew and sunshine and growing things.

I went into the grocery store in my town where I was greeted by people who recognize me, was asked about my week and my plans for the day, and exchanged a recipe with the cashier. In the parking lot an elderly gentleman complimented me on a car that wasn't mine and then he took my shopping cart back into the store for me.

I stopped at the local Farmers market on my way home where I paid $1.40 for a four pack of marigold plants and learned how to make cupcakes that look like daisys
using slices of marshmallow and gumdrop centers. Btw, they're really cute.


This summer I'll buy peaches and cherries directly at the orchard, corn off the back of a farmers truck at the edge of the field, and attend the Old Time Fiddlers Festival. I'll serve strawberry shortcake with my homegrown berries and veggie trays picked from my garden. And this winter there will be homemade spaghetti sauce made from my own tomatoes, onion, garlic and basil.

Friday night in my town is Sunday night quiet anywhere else. I can sit on the porch and listen to crickets and frogs instead of traffic and sirens. I've had coffee with the elderly gentleman who takes his 5am walk every day, rain or snow or shine, carrying a giant flashlight. I've chatted with the other gentleman who walks his dog and waves to every car that passes. Turns out he's not crazy, just really friendly.

I'm sure there is a place in this world for big box stores, night clubs, pizza delivery, shopping malls, and tourist attractions. It's just not MY world.

Well....maybe the pizza delivery.

It's the Blue Light Special of free stuff!

Sometimes, life is good. Sometimes, the planets align, the forces that be smile down on you, and it rains free stuff. And not crappy free stuff, but stuff you can actually use.

My previous post lauded the abundance of goods and services I have received to redo my bedroom and bathroom, so I won't go into that again. But it would appear that the Botany Gods are giving me a karmic thumbs up, because I have been blessed with greenery.

I had a girlfriend who was moving and saw this as the perfect opportunity to get rid of her boyfriends plants (and who among us hasn't wanted to do that?). So I inherited 5 HUGE hanging spiders and ivy's. Really greened up the place, made it all bright and airy. Not to mention the surplus of oxygen they are providing. She also saw the chance to upgrade her patio collection, and now I have several darling urn planters for MY back patio, which currently houses a table, tangled hoses, a collection of stuffed animals with the insides in various stages of being pulled out and a chiminea that acts as a summer home for very angry wasps. Needless to say, my patio could use a face lift.

Then my boss was, once again, kind enough to offer to let me come and take her runaway strawberries and raspberries. Now, this is akin to offering to allow little children to pick your dandelions for their mother. Solves your problem and the children do all the work. Same basic concept. I go over there and "choose" my plants from all the ones that have decided to grow where she doesn't want them. But I currently have 2 mature strawberry beds, a rhubarb bed, a chive pot, and a good sized raspberry bed that are full on producing, and all I had to do was go over and dig them up. They come back every year, they produce better every year, and they cost me NOTHING! Really, this year I'm just filling in the strawberries and maybe extending the raspberry bed. How do you refuse raspberries? And they're thornless, to boot. Maybe I should start another bed. On top of that, her patch is so big, that when they're ripe, I also get to go over and pick them! Delicious!

Finally, this is less a gift than an accomplishment, but it needed to happen. My back flower bed (read - weed patch) has been de-weeded, weed guarded, and I will be planting it for the LAST time next weekend, with a selection of perennials chosen with the intent of me never having to do anything to that bed again. It runs for 50 feet along my back fence and is filled with completely useless plants. They contribute nothing, save for being visually attractive for a couple of months, giving the bees something to do during the day, and providing cover for wasps to make their homes. But, I had a 50.00 card to Lowes, and so I chose a few remaining plants to fill in the blank spots and now the bed will be spring/summer/fall blooming with little maintenance from me. It's full of Russian Sage, Purple Salvia, burgundy wild roses, Shasta daisies, and mums. Done. I hate working in that flower bed. Love flowers, hate weeding.

I need a sign.

Frugal, Schmrugal

Yay me! I have managed to remodel two rooms in my house for less than 150.00! I'm trying to really stretch it, and I may have enough supplies to do one more room. Crossing my fingers. Here's my success story.

Master bedroom has been without a floor for....oh, about 3 years. I tore the carpet out 3 years ago, and have been living with subflooring ever since. I would occasionally repaint it in white when it got too grungy to mop. I was going for shabby chic, but realistically, we're talking painted plywood. Anyway, 3 years of patience (read laziness, cheapness, and procrastination) finally paid off thanks to an unfortunate incident involving a leaky refridgerator hose and a locking mechanism change by a flooring manufacturer. Not that I would wish ill on anyone, especially to my own benefit, but my boyfriends sister lost a small portion of her wood floor thanks to the aforementioned refridgerator leak, and because of the change in the flooring design, they were unable to get a match for their floors. The beauty of this being that their flooring covered approx 600 square feet, from the front entry hall, to the office, kitchen, dining room and bathroom. She was kind enough to ask the insurance company if they could recycle the flooring AND the floating floor underneath, and suddenly, I have a new bedroom floor. By the way, she did end up with BEAUTIFUL new flooring, so it all worked out.

Cost of flooring - 0.00

Problem. Flooring is darker than I would have chosen and won't go with the current decor. Solution - paint it. (the walls, not the flooring) Thanks to gift card programs, I was able to purchase 4 gallons of custom colored paint without using any money from my budget.

Cost of Paint, brushes, and tape - 0.00

Tools - Okay. I could have saved some money here by being organized, but because I am not, and because I did not have until the end of never to go through my garage, I had to replace some things I know I have.

Cost of mallet, pry bar, drywall putty and knife - about 20.00

Crap. Who's going to install the floor? Me? Okaaaay... I was going to give it a whack, but I got suckered into taking in a little baby pug dog, and as luck would have it, the owner lays flooring for a living. He was so grateful that his puppy wouldn't go to the pound that,

Cost of flooring installation - 0.00



I love barter. Realistically, I'm going to spend more money caring for this dog over the course of his life than he would have charged for installation, but I'm going to overlook that as a "vague and variable" expense. Besides, love and gratitude count for something right? Think how much I'll save in therapy by having the love of a sweet, cuddly pug. I'm calling it even.

The main expense. The dresser. This is where my complete lack of patience came up to bite me in the arse. I have been looking for a dresser for a couple months. Yard sales, thrift stores, Craigslist. Have not found what I'm looking for, and if it was the right size, it was too damaged or too much money for what it was. Then one day I walked into the most evil shop ever (coincidentally, it happens to be my favorite store, too. The two are not mutually exclusive) and there was my dresser. Right height and width, 4 drawers, already made shabby chic with cream and chocolate brown - two of the new colors in my room. Perfect! AND, it's on casters, which means it will roll if I need to move it. For whatever reason, the people who refinished it put bright brass closet knobs on a shabby chic dresser (how much you want to bet it was a man?) So I am replacing the hardware with distressed wrought iron fleur d lis knobs. Yes, they are 3.00 each, BUT I have a gift card to the store to use to buy them.

Cost of dresser - a very painful 93.00
Cost of hardware - technically 0.00

Thanks to the paint I bought and additional gift cards, I was able to refinish 1 dresser, 1 trunk, 1 bathroom hutch, 1 bathroom cabinet (bought at a yard sale for 2.00) and a picture frame. Also I was able to refinish 4 sconces I found in my garage from a yard sale like 4 years ago (I knew I would use them!) and I purchased fleur d lis knobs for my closet doors to match the dressers. I used the paint from the bedroom to repaint the bathroom.

Cost to refinish the bathroom (get this) - 2.00



Am I proud of myself? You bet your sweet bippy. And I will be absolutely ecstatic if it turns out I have enough flooring left to do the office floor. I know I'll have enough paint.

Total remodel - 115.00


Who says procrastination doesn't pay off?

I have too much on my plate!

Ever want to crawl into your closet, close the door, and hope no one ever finds you? That's what happens when you decide you're going to do everything, be everything, and fix everything all at once. Let me tell you, not going to happen.

Right now my bedroom furniture is piled in the center of the room while the paint on the walls dries. Half of my dresser is painted, half of a bedroom cabinet is painted and distressed. One garden bed is weeded. I can't see my strawberries under the dandelions. My peas are coming up, the onions have disappeared - I know I planted them. Of my 64 square foot boxes, 5 are planted with broccoli. The rest are apparently planted with weeds, which love the fresh soil I put in a couple weeks ago. I guess it's pretty good soil. I have a pile of wood flooring in my garage, which I'm supposed to install Memorial Day weekend. Guess what? That's the same weekend the garden is supposed to go in. AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE THE BEDS READY!

Kill me now.

Have I watered the yard yet this year? Nope. Not yet. It's been mowed 3 times - not by me, of course. But not watered, because that is my responsibility and it seems like too much work to go out there and turn the faucet on. And then there's the moving of the hoses, and the adjusting of the water flow...sigh. Have I harvested the asparagus I was so excited about? Ummm....you mean the asparagus TREES? That's what happens when you don't pick them early. So much for asparagus this year. Good thing it's on sale for .99 a lb. Of course, then I have to blanch them and vacuum seal them. More work.

When was the last time I cooked dinner? I honestly do not remember. My poor boyfriend is living on chips and fruit. I occasionally bring him a container of soup from the cafeteria at work. Otherwise, he's on his own. His clothes are clean, though. Laundry gets done. Priorities. It's okay if he starves to death, as long as his clothes are clean.

How does the saying go? "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get". Maybe I should make a sign for the kitchen.... I'll add it to the list.

How to medicate a Pug...or not

My pug has an ear infection. I was told it's just mild, no biggie, wash his ears out and stick some ointment in them. No problem. All better. My vet has a full staff of trained animal restrainers. And cookies. I have two hands and my wits. I am seriously undermanned for this mission.

Did I mention this pug weighs 38lbs, has claws like a velociraptor, and the demeanor of the Tasmanian devil? Like Taz, he's sweet, lovable, playful, and let's admit it, a little short on brains. He can also make your living room look like a tornado has passed through.

He was fine when the vet did it. But at home, as soon as he saw the ear wash bottle, and heard me calling him, Fergus began manic-running around the living room. Up on the loveseat, leap to the couch, jump over the end table to land on the back of the recliner, which out of self defense tips over and dumps him onto the tile in the kitchen. From there he scrambles up, his nails skittering over the tile as he does the Scooby Doo frantic running in place move, until his nails gain purchase and send him shooting back into the living room where he slides across the wood floor and goes careening off the wall. It's like trying to catch a demented popcorn kernel.

I finally do manage to catch him, tackle him, and sit on him. (I did mention he's almost 40lbs, right?) After he gives up struggling and we both catch our breath, I realize that the medication and swabs I need are sitting on the kitchen counter. Across the room.

I can't lift him. I know forty lbs doesn't seem like a lot of weight, but he will do one of two things. He will either practice passive resistance and make his whole body go limp so he slithers through your arms like a lump of jello, or he will struggle like a pitbull on angel dust, making his 40lbs feel like 80 and risking being dropped and injured. So I improvise. I grab him around the middle and crawl towards the kitchen dragging him with me. He is simultaneously licking all over my face and digging his feet into me, the floor and any passing piece of furniture. We make it halfway to the kitchen and I change tactics, grabbing his front paws and trying to pull him.

That was my mistake. He instantly went limp, rolling from standing on his hind legs to falling over on his back, forcing me to either let go or break his legs. I only had a second to make a decision, so I opted to save the vet bill and let him go. He immediately ran over and jumped onto the recliner to monitor me. Head cocked, panting, tongue hanging out - I swear he was grinning ear to ear.

I retrieve the needed items and realize that I cannot hold onto everything AND catch him. Solution - my June Cleaver apron complete with spacious pockets. I get outfitted and stock my pockets and go back to retrieve Pugzilla, who is now refreshed and ready to rock and roll. Once more, he makes the rounds of the living room, at one point sliding under the coffee table and then standing before he exits, knocking the table over and scattering magazines, remotes and a bowl of potpourri across the living room floor. Meanwhile, the other dogs are in their crate jumping up and down, barking and howling and basically egging on Fergus' escape attempt. He finally slides into a corner where I am able to trap him and get my legs wrapped around him and pin him to the floor. Whew.

Mission accomplished. I get his ears cleaned and medicated and let him go, where he promptly stands up and shakes his head, spraying ear medicine all over the already demolished living room. I give up. His ears can rot and fall off for all I care. I let them all outside, clean the living room, and get settled in my chair in time to have my boyfriend come home and say "Hi Sweetie, how was your day?"

I just smile and say "Fine, baby, how was yours?" What can you say?