So I was returning a movie to the video store, and there in the parking lot was a gorgeous, ginormous brown and polka dotted beetle. I had to share, of course, but what could I bring him home in? In the trash outside the store there was a candy box, so I scootched him in and brought him into the van. The Boy held the box closed till we got home, then taped the end down while we began the nightly rituals. Before Simon went to bed I wanted him to behold the glory, so I got the box out and realized the window on the side of the box didn't have plastic in it. The entire time we were holding the end of the box down, the glorious, ginormous beetle could have traipsed right out the side. As much as I enjoy bugs, I'm glad he didn't.
Will post a picture tomorrow when it's light enough to take one,
ephelba
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Just when you're ready to quit.
The Boy is 13. Sometimes, now that I've been telling him the same thing for all of those years, I get discouraged and begin to think nothing is getting through. And then the Boy tells me that when he was on vacation and was invited to kayak, he used every tool I taught him. He took a deep breath, and he gave it another try, and so on and so on- he said the most useful tool was the one where you just do a thing. And when it was all over, he had such a good time he wants to do it again.
I guess I am having an effect after all.
Just keep swimming,
ephelba
I guess I am having an effect after all.
Just keep swimming,
ephelba
Monday, July 14, 2008
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Well hello there!
Hi! How are you? We're doing pretty good. Enjoying the new house. Missing Boy, who is off visiting friends. This morning he called, and the Bean got on the phone with him and was just so pleased to recognize the voice on the phone. I don't think that had happened before. She lit up and said "aHA! Bubba! Hello!", which was altogether too precious.
The little one is crawling. As in, eventually making forward progress on her hands and knees, not as in, zipping across the floor getting into everything that is dangerous or gross. I figure I've got a week or two before that happens.
The house is full of flies. I was sitting in the yard with the girls thinking "Wow. Would you look at all those flies!" The flies were flying into my house thinking "Wow, Would you look at that wide open door." There are so many I'm going to have to open it again and let them out.
On that note, why is it that whatever window I am near has three flies in it. Are they the same three, following me, or is it some strange kind of fly equilibrium?
I've been trying and trying to find funny things for us to watch of an evening. It's surprisingly hard, but I found another winner. The first was Extras. The latest is The Office. As we're watching the manager behave like a complete and total twat, Simon looks at me and says "This you can watch?" The difference is I sorta like the characters in the Extras, so it hurts to watch them blunder, whereas I have no love for the Manager at all. Nope. None. It's refreshing.
The inlaws are bringing Boy back to us from MI, then we're all going to go stay at a "Cabin" on the lake. That's "Cabin" as in "Nicer house than we live in", I expect. My kind of vacation. I find no joy in leaving the life I lead to go sleep in uncomfortable quarters and make do without creature comforts like, oh, running water or electricity or a stove. "Whee! Pooping in the woods!" How is that fun? No, going to stay in a space with more amenities than I usually have is where it's at. "Whee! Dishwasher!" See? That works.
Last night the girls or I were up every hour. Yeah. So this morning I was good for nothing. Of course, come noon we all slept for three hours straight. So. I suppose it's time to be getting on with things.
Look for me in a week or two,
ephelba
The little one is crawling. As in, eventually making forward progress on her hands and knees, not as in, zipping across the floor getting into everything that is dangerous or gross. I figure I've got a week or two before that happens.
The house is full of flies. I was sitting in the yard with the girls thinking "Wow. Would you look at all those flies!" The flies were flying into my house thinking "Wow, Would you look at that wide open door." There are so many I'm going to have to open it again and let them out.
On that note, why is it that whatever window I am near has three flies in it. Are they the same three, following me, or is it some strange kind of fly equilibrium?
I've been trying and trying to find funny things for us to watch of an evening. It's surprisingly hard, but I found another winner. The first was Extras. The latest is The Office. As we're watching the manager behave like a complete and total twat, Simon looks at me and says "This you can watch?" The difference is I sorta like the characters in the Extras, so it hurts to watch them blunder, whereas I have no love for the Manager at all. Nope. None. It's refreshing.
The inlaws are bringing Boy back to us from MI, then we're all going to go stay at a "Cabin" on the lake. That's "Cabin" as in "Nicer house than we live in", I expect. My kind of vacation. I find no joy in leaving the life I lead to go sleep in uncomfortable quarters and make do without creature comforts like, oh, running water or electricity or a stove. "Whee! Pooping in the woods!" How is that fun? No, going to stay in a space with more amenities than I usually have is where it's at. "Whee! Dishwasher!" See? That works.
Last night the girls or I were up every hour. Yeah. So this morning I was good for nothing. Of course, come noon we all slept for three hours straight. So. I suppose it's time to be getting on with things.
Look for me in a week or two,
ephelba
Monday, June 30, 2008
Funny things
Extras.
I can't figure out how to link to it in Netflix. You're smart people, you can find it. Loon turned me on to it, and I laughed myself silly. That is, when I could stay in the room, because the kind of humor where people are doing things they shouldn't do frequently makes me squink, and I have to leave and then bug Simon from the kitchen- "What is he doing now? He didn't say yes did he? Did he? Is it over? What is he doing?". I can watch spouting blood, scary monsters, things that go bump and boo, but a person lying for comedic effect is just too much. You should have seen me try to watch Borat.
Dried Apricots.
Mimi has pointed out they look like little monkey scrotums. I completely agree. And now I shall say that to myself when I eat them. "Nom nom the mon key balls." And when next you see them, you will think this too. Ha! Your brain has been polluted.
Elmo, Zoe and Telly Monsters
At least, the Bean think so, because when they were trying to figure out how to line up with Elmo Between, she was ROFL. She can't talk, but she can laugh at Sesame Street. I think it's a good sign.
Someecards.com
Well, they make me laugh, at any rate.
snicker snicker,
ephelba
I can't figure out how to link to it in Netflix. You're smart people, you can find it. Loon turned me on to it, and I laughed myself silly. That is, when I could stay in the room, because the kind of humor where people are doing things they shouldn't do frequently makes me squink, and I have to leave and then bug Simon from the kitchen- "What is he doing now? He didn't say yes did he? Did he? Is it over? What is he doing?". I can watch spouting blood, scary monsters, things that go bump and boo, but a person lying for comedic effect is just too much. You should have seen me try to watch Borat.
Dried Apricots.
Mimi has pointed out they look like little monkey scrotums. I completely agree. And now I shall say that to myself when I eat them. "Nom nom the mon key balls." And when next you see them, you will think this too. Ha! Your brain has been polluted.
Elmo, Zoe and Telly Monsters
At least, the Bean think so, because when they were trying to figure out how to line up with Elmo Between, she was ROFL. She can't talk, but she can laugh at Sesame Street. I think it's a good sign.
Someecards.com
Well, they make me laugh, at any rate.
snicker snicker,
ephelba
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
If you gave a witch some money...
If you gave me more money, I'd go buy children's books on Amazon. If I bought all the books I wanted on Amazon, they'd bust the shelves and fall through the floor. If there was a hole in the floor, the land lord would get mad. If the land lord got mad, he'd kick my book buying butt out onto the street.
So it's a good thing I can't afford to buy books like these:
So it's a good thing I can't afford to buy books like these:
Sunday, June 22, 2008
On the usefullness of attics.
Most of our stuff is up in our attic. I'm guessing half of it will end up going away. Right now, the downstairs is almost pulled together and it has all the stuff we need in it. It is very freeing to be able to put everything away in a home just for it.
Ahhh.
In truth, I am alternating between the joy of creating an uncluttered house, and the crushing weight of the sheer volume of work required to get there.
I think listing some achievements will help.
1) I've organized the girls' toys into bins and will only have one bin down at a time, thus preventing clutter and toy-overload. I am pleased, because in doing so I realized they don't have too many toys. I hope I can keep it that way. My plan is to get/make open ended toys, like blocks, play scarves and boxes. They'll have to use their imaginations. Plastic fantastic stuff will have no home here. Now, if I can just get the grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends and relations on board:)
2) You can get to the pantry now. The pantry is organized. Thank you, ancient architect, who designed it to perfectly hold a Clementine's box. Thanks you, crazy self, for having two hundred Clementine's boxes to put in there.
This is, of course, a mixed blessing, because now when I want to throw something away my crazy self will say "But maybe you'll come up with a use for this, like you did with those Clementine's boxes".
I would like to achieve Farm Status with my stuff. That is, there are no useless animals on a farm, there should be no useless stuff in my house. I am a long way away from this, but getting closer.
3) The living room is good. The furniture is arranged, the toys are set, the floor is clear. Lovely.
4) Boy's room is arranged. It has issues, but they are the issues born of a room too small for the furniture in it. It's as good as it can be till we build a loft or some such.
5) The end is in sight in the dining room and foyer.
6) Boy met a kid across the street who is his age, going into the same grade, and isn't a hoodlum. Super!
I will take a deep breath and do one thing at a time. Eventually, it will all be sorted, put away or gotten rid of.
Feeling better,
ephelba
Ahhh.
In truth, I am alternating between the joy of creating an uncluttered house, and the crushing weight of the sheer volume of work required to get there.
I think listing some achievements will help.
1) I've organized the girls' toys into bins and will only have one bin down at a time, thus preventing clutter and toy-overload. I am pleased, because in doing so I realized they don't have too many toys. I hope I can keep it that way. My plan is to get/make open ended toys, like blocks, play scarves and boxes. They'll have to use their imaginations. Plastic fantastic stuff will have no home here. Now, if I can just get the grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends and relations on board:)
2) You can get to the pantry now. The pantry is organized. Thank you, ancient architect, who designed it to perfectly hold a Clementine's box. Thanks you, crazy self, for having two hundred Clementine's boxes to put in there.
This is, of course, a mixed blessing, because now when I want to throw something away my crazy self will say "But maybe you'll come up with a use for this, like you did with those Clementine's boxes".
I would like to achieve Farm Status with my stuff. That is, there are no useless animals on a farm, there should be no useless stuff in my house. I am a long way away from this, but getting closer.
3) The living room is good. The furniture is arranged, the toys are set, the floor is clear. Lovely.
4) Boy's room is arranged. It has issues, but they are the issues born of a room too small for the furniture in it. It's as good as it can be till we build a loft or some such.
5) The end is in sight in the dining room and foyer.
6) Boy met a kid across the street who is his age, going into the same grade, and isn't a hoodlum. Super!
I will take a deep breath and do one thing at a time. Eventually, it will all be sorted, put away or gotten rid of.
Feeling better,
ephelba
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Surprisingly Traumatic
Somehow I thought we'd move, and the sun would come out and angels would sing and life would be perfect, because we would be living in a better house. I know this is teddy bear thinking*, but I did expect that when we got here the worst of the stress of the move would be over.
Nope.
In an attempt to cope I've been trying to think of things as adventures. Alrighty! A new grocery store! What an adventure! Where is my granola?!? And then I realize they don't even have it, Quaker's granola, for crying out loud, and I start to feel a little panicky, because what if they don't have my favorite noodles or my toothpaste or anything? Going on an adventure to find your stuff is one thing, going on an adventure where you have to learn about all new stuff is quite another.
I left feeling completely wrung out. Silly, but true.
Yesterday we just drove around to see what we could see. We found another grocery store, the local Y and a community arts center. We did not find a bookstore. Not even a jinky one that sells used romance novels. What does this mean?
After lunch we made our first trip to the local park. Lovely equipment, sat upon by a bunch of middle school twerps swearing in front of the Bean**. No doubt they're the same ones who wrote the same swear words on the play equipment. That night I couldn't sleep for thinking about the fact I'm sending Boy off to school with those twerps (or twerps just like them) next year.
And then it hits me that we've moved. OH YEAH BABY! I know I'll end up loving this town, and this park, and these twerps. I know I'll make new friends. The sun'll come out. Whatever. But just now? I feel slapped in the face by the enormity of what a move means.
Going to unpack a box,
ephelba
* Teddy bear thinking - the belief that a chance in circumstance will make a chance in the substance of your life. Example- "If I move to Chicago I'll be happy, even though moving to Chicago will do nothing to fix my low self esteem, perfectionism or halitosis."
** Yes, we swear around the Bean, but I expect at least a "Oh gosh, sorry!" when others do.
Nope.
In an attempt to cope I've been trying to think of things as adventures. Alrighty! A new grocery store! What an adventure! Where is my granola?!? And then I realize they don't even have it, Quaker's granola, for crying out loud, and I start to feel a little panicky, because what if they don't have my favorite noodles or my toothpaste or anything? Going on an adventure to find your stuff is one thing, going on an adventure where you have to learn about all new stuff is quite another.
I left feeling completely wrung out. Silly, but true.
Yesterday we just drove around to see what we could see. We found another grocery store, the local Y and a community arts center. We did not find a bookstore. Not even a jinky one that sells used romance novels. What does this mean?
After lunch we made our first trip to the local park. Lovely equipment, sat upon by a bunch of middle school twerps swearing in front of the Bean**. No doubt they're the same ones who wrote the same swear words on the play equipment. That night I couldn't sleep for thinking about the fact I'm sending Boy off to school with those twerps (or twerps just like them) next year.
And then it hits me that we've moved. OH YEAH BABY! I know I'll end up loving this town, and this park, and these twerps. I know I'll make new friends. The sun'll come out. Whatever. But just now? I feel slapped in the face by the enormity of what a move means.
Going to unpack a box,
ephelba
* Teddy bear thinking - the belief that a chance in circumstance will make a chance in the substance of your life. Example- "If I move to Chicago I'll be happy, even though moving to Chicago will do nothing to fix my low self esteem, perfectionism or halitosis."
** Yes, we swear around the Bean, but I expect at least a "Oh gosh, sorry!" when others do.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Time for something completely different.
Bye Bye Old House.
This is the view from the entry of the apartment we lived in for the past two years.This is where the Bean grew from a five pound baby ball into a giggling toddler. Her first steps were here. Her first words too.
This is where her sister was conceived. Where the Bug had her first bath. Her first bite of cereal.
The Boy had three birthdays here. Two years of homeschooling. One and a half broken bones. Lots of growing up.
Mabel the dog is buried in the back.
As glad as I am to be out of there, I can't help feeling a little sad. It was our home.
Going to go unpack,
ephelba
Monday, June 16, 2008
Too many Posts!
I know you can't see the posts yet, but moving has given me much to say without giving me the time to say it in. Suffice it to say we are done putting the stuff into this building. We will now commence with saying "Has anyone seen the ???" for the following, ummm, year.
Enjoying saying "Hello there!" to all her things, and planning on saying "Goodbye" to many of them,
ephelba
Enjoying saying "Hello there!" to all her things, and planning on saying "Goodbye" to many of them,
ephelba
The Aerobed
Feeling like I'm going to slide off the side - One and a half hours of sleep.
Having the sheet ride up under me, leaving me stuck to the rubber mattress - One Straw*.
Discovering we were sleeping on the thing upside down - Priceless.
Feeling much better now,
ephelba
* The last I had. I went and slept on Boy's bed after that.
Having the sheet ride up under me, leaving me stuck to the rubber mattress - One Straw*.
Discovering we were sleeping on the thing upside down - Priceless.
Feeling much better now,
ephelba
* The last I had. I went and slept on Boy's bed after that.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
These days
The Bean is always squealing. Either she's running through an empty house and enjoying the echo, or she's bewailing our state of non-stop transition. She's actually been having a lot of fun. Hiding in closets, exploring our new yard, getting into EVERY BOX TWICE - once in this house, once in the new house.
The Bug is frequently dismayed. She is 7 months old and doing what 7 month olds do, namely, crying every time she sees me leave the room, edge toward the room's exit, or think about that one time I was in another room by myself.
The Boy is very helpful. He is 13, did you know? That means he can go up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs and not get as tired as we do going up and down once.
Lucy the Dog is delighted to discover our new neighbors have cats. She's not so fond of other dogs with their nosing of her nethers and their friendly attempts at playing. She prefers felines, which she expects to befriend her, cuddle up with her and clean her ears. I doubt the new cats know what she has in mind, despite her attempts to explain.
Simon and I are hot, sticky and tired. Sometimes we switch it up and become tired, sticky and hot.
Today Simon and Boy got their asses soundly whupped by me and my fun noodle*. They will tell you otherwise. Do not believe them.
Just now I must go empty the local ice cream parlor of a family's worth of kiddie cones,
ephelba
*You know, the swimmy things....
The Bug is frequently dismayed. She is 7 months old and doing what 7 month olds do, namely, crying every time she sees me leave the room, edge toward the room's exit, or think about that one time I was in another room by myself.
The Boy is very helpful. He is 13, did you know? That means he can go up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs and not get as tired as we do going up and down once.
Lucy the Dog is delighted to discover our new neighbors have cats. She's not so fond of other dogs with their nosing of her nethers and their friendly attempts at playing. She prefers felines, which she expects to befriend her, cuddle up with her and clean her ears. I doubt the new cats know what she has in mind, despite her attempts to explain.
Simon and I are hot, sticky and tired. Sometimes we switch it up and become tired, sticky and hot.
Today Simon and Boy got their asses soundly whupped by me and my fun noodle*. They will tell you otherwise. Do not believe them.
Just now I must go empty the local ice cream parlor of a family's worth of kiddie cones,
ephelba
*You know, the swimmy things....
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
The latest suck
If you're going to give your baby up for adoption, chances are, there's a fair bit of drama in your life. Drama and suck. If there weren't, you'd probably be keeping your baby, no?
The baby momma has drama, which, sadly, is not of her own doing, and the whole thing may collapse in a heaping pile of suck. Which sucks for Loon and her wife, whose heart strings are wrapped around the tiniest fingers you ever saw, but much much much much more for the owner of the fingers, and her sister, and her momma. It's just a really sucky situation.
Loon and her wife are focusing on alleviating the suck for this little family. This is good and healthy.
The whole thing still sucks, though.
Ouch.
ephelba
The baby momma has drama, which, sadly, is not of her own doing, and the whole thing may collapse in a heaping pile of suck. Which sucks for Loon and her wife, whose heart strings are wrapped around the tiniest fingers you ever saw, but much much much much more for the owner of the fingers, and her sister, and her momma. It's just a really sucky situation.
Loon and her wife are focusing on alleviating the suck for this little family. This is good and healthy.
The whole thing still sucks, though.
Ouch.
ephelba
Monday, June 02, 2008
I'm an Auntie!
Loon has a baby! I'M JUST SO EXCITED!* Bet I'm not as excited as she is. I'll leave it to her to tell the story, but she's too busy by half right now. Sooner or later, it will be up here.
It's a tiny little girl. She will grow up and play with my girls and it's just going to be great. Wish I lived a lot closer.
Going to send her a ham**,
ephelba
* (!!!!!1111!!!11!!1!)
**Like flowers, only tastier.
It's a tiny little girl. She will grow up and play with my girls and it's just going to be great. Wish I lived a lot closer.
Going to send her a ham**,
ephelba
* (!!!!!1111!!!11!!1!)
**Like flowers, only tastier.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
My new favorite song.
Rats and Pizza.
I heard it on Pandora, and will be buying the whole album soon. I fell in love with it even before Boy pointed out it was about Upchucky Wheezes, and now that it's obvious I love it all the more because I completely concur.
Enjoy!
ephelba
I heard it on Pandora, and will be buying the whole album soon. I fell in love with it even before Boy pointed out it was about Upchucky Wheezes, and now that it's obvious I love it all the more because I completely concur.
Enjoy!
ephelba
Friday, May 30, 2008
Things to be grateful for.
I'm grateful I live in a mostly functioning democratic country.
I'm grateful that we have so much money that we can afford such things as light up balloons. As Boy said, they are the Best Balloons Ever.
I'm grateful we're all pretty healthy.
I'm grateful we got to see the fireworks and no one was hurt, even when one seemed to go off awful low.
I'm grateful Simon cajoled me into folding laundry. Stupid, poopy laundry.
I'm grateful for public schools.
I'm grateful I have a son who isn't lazy.
I'm grateful I have a warm comfy bed to sleep in,
ephelba
PS
Loon may be getting picked to have a baby! I'm just so excited!
I'm grateful that we have so much money that we can afford such things as light up balloons. As Boy said, they are the Best Balloons Ever.
I'm grateful we're all pretty healthy.
I'm grateful we got to see the fireworks and no one was hurt, even when one seemed to go off awful low.
I'm grateful Simon cajoled me into folding laundry. Stupid, poopy laundry.
I'm grateful for public schools.
I'm grateful I have a son who isn't lazy.
I'm grateful I have a warm comfy bed to sleep in,
ephelba
PS
Loon may be getting picked to have a baby! I'm just so excited!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Firsts.
Today was the first time I paid more than $4 a gallon for gas. I honestly thought the sign was wrong. I had to think, have we already gone all the way through the $3s? And then I decided yes, we had, and now the suck is here.
Yipes.
I can remember when the first Bush made a mess in Iraq and the price of gas jumped. I was cleaning out my car for cans because you had a hope of getting a gallon of gas with what you might find. I also remember thinking gas was expensive then. Now,here in NY, I'd have to have 85 cans floating under my seats to get a gallon.
On a happier note, today was the first time the Bean had her own ice cream cone. She knew just what to do with it. It dripped on her hand, and she couldn't have that, so she tried to wipe her hand on her pants and she dropped her cone. Simon said "She can't eat that now, can she?" I said "You can't stop her, can you?" and it was back in her mouth just like that. Then she got a napkin and tried to clean up the ice cream that was on the ground.
She's terribly cute today. She saw some paint on the ground and said "LELLO!" I said "Blue." She said "BLOOO!" and then I tried to teach her the Blue song. She's been working on the katamari damacy song all day, and proceeded to sing that instead (You can hear it here.).
On a completely random note, our local brewery is afire even as I type. We are sad. It made pretty good beer, and I was hoping to go on a tour with the whole family this summer. Instead, I went to the grocery store and bought two kinds of their brews. It'll just have to do.
Going to bed before the beer wears off,
ephelba
Yipes.
I can remember when the first Bush made a mess in Iraq and the price of gas jumped. I was cleaning out my car for cans because you had a hope of getting a gallon of gas with what you might find. I also remember thinking gas was expensive then. Now,here in NY, I'd have to have 85 cans floating under my seats to get a gallon.
On a happier note, today was the first time the Bean had her own ice cream cone. She knew just what to do with it. It dripped on her hand, and she couldn't have that, so she tried to wipe her hand on her pants and she dropped her cone. Simon said "She can't eat that now, can she?" I said "You can't stop her, can you?" and it was back in her mouth just like that. Then she got a napkin and tried to clean up the ice cream that was on the ground.
She's terribly cute today. She saw some paint on the ground and said "LELLO!" I said "Blue." She said "BLOOO!" and then I tried to teach her the Blue song. She's been working on the katamari damacy song all day, and proceeded to sing that instead (You can hear it here.).
On a completely random note, our local brewery is afire even as I type. We are sad. It made pretty good beer, and I was hoping to go on a tour with the whole family this summer. Instead, I went to the grocery store and bought two kinds of their brews. It'll just have to do.
Going to bed before the beer wears off,
ephelba
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wrastling with donkeys.
Myfarmer is off to go see the big mouse down in FL, so the Boy and I are doing the farm. This is, by far, the easiest round of farm chores ever. There's grass, so we don't have to haul hay. She has a spring on her farm and lots of water here and there that they are penned around, so we don't have to haul that either. Boy collects the eggs and washes them whilst I take grain to the chickens and geese and do a walk about to see that everyone is hanging loose.
We're waiting on two sheep to lamb. They got into the game at the last possible moment. Everyday I walk out there and stare at them and feel really stupid. My goal is to notice when they lamb, catch the lambs so I can sex them, and check on the mom. The honest to goodness truth is that every time I go down there I have to figure out who the pregger sheep are all over again. You'd think tt would be really obvious- they're the two fat ones, but I swear some of the nursing moms are pretty portly too. I always end up staring at each sheep in turn "Ok, that one is a boy, that one already has lambs" etc etc until I get it figured out.
The donkeys and the horse have a history of taking advantage of my good nature and conniving me into feeding them more than they need to eat. Last winter I was worried we were going to run out of hay before Myfarmer got back, because they were going through 8/9 bales a day. Myfarmer said that was ridiculous, and I should cut them back to three or four bales. When she came home there was hay on the ground around the hay-holding-thingy, which the critters usually eat up when she was on duty. She expressed dismay, and the horse started picking up the hay and putting it back in the rack, as if she was shamed of how they'd played me.
Of course, I was again worried they were going through the grass sort of fast, so I decided I'd just set up more fence and then I wouldn't have to worry. I'm like a farming Jewish mother "Eat! EAT!". So in the process of laying out new fence, I lay a section on the ground for a second, forgetting what the purpose of a fence was. The donkeys did not forget, and promptly traipsed through to the fresh grass. They completely ignored me yelling "NO NO YOU FUCKING BITCHES! GET!" Maybell the horse heard me beg, "Please, Maybell, Stay in there. No! NO!" but she was all like "What? Huh?" as she walked past. I can not figure out how to tell that horse "No".
So. I figured, if I keep one donkey here, the other won't go too far. The donkeys don't care about the horse, but the horse cares about being near the donkeys, so if I've got them She won't go far either. It was a sound plan, and in the end it worked, but in order to put it into play I had to grab a donkey.
Donkeys are smarter than sheep. If the sheep are out and you show up they go the other way. Sometimes it's tricky, but you use this fact to herd them to where ever you want them. When they reach the edge of the pen they say "Rats! Foiled again! A pen!" but because of the herd's inertia they go in anyways. Donkeys are clever. When they see you move they say "Why is she going that way? OH! Because she wants to get in my escape path, cut me off, and put me back in the pen. Bet I can take her." and then they run. With stealth and speed I did manage to catch the younger of the two. I put her in a head lock and yelled for Boy to hurry. She expressed her frustration by stepping on me. She really wanted to kick me, but she'd have to get loose to do that. Thinking things through she decided to try and bite me. When that proved useless she decided she'd just drag me along wherever she intended to go. Of course, I weigh enough to be annoying, so when she got annoyed enough she'd try again to shake me off and bite me.
Eventually Boy brought the grain and things went according to plan. In the meantime? I spent a lot of time wondering just what donkeys were for, and how they'd taste*.
Oh! I forgot to mention, we took a neighbor kid with us on this adventure. He's never gotten to hang out on a farm, so it was a true adventure for him. He said several cute things, such as "I wonder if the wind is alive..." and "The geese hissed at me. I guess they learned that from hanging around with the cats." When he gathered the eggs I told Boy to make sure there were no hidden eggs- the hens are trying to go broody. When we explained they were trying to get the eggs to hatch, he asked if that meant these very eggs would hatch if you kept them warm.
Possibly.
He kept one egg in his hand the whole time. I gave him a dozen eggs, including two turkey eggs, to take home and eat. They came from the batch that included some eggs that had chicks in them, because he seemed to think that was neat. Not that you want to eat those, but because he could see what goes on. Instead of eating them, when he got home he put them in a muffin tin and put a lamp on them. Honestly, I have no idea what will happen. The ones that had gotten started and then got put in the fridge are already dead, I'm pretty sure. But the ones that hadn't started yet might still be viable. If he doesn't get bored turning them. I don't know. I do know the turkey eggs are duds. The Tom likes to hump anything with feathers, including the chicken hens, but he just can't get the hang of how humping works. He's very serious, but when you watch him his tail is miles away from the girl's tail. Miles and miles.
I do hope that someday we end up with the space to some farming of our own. Not enough for other people, just enough for us to have meats and eggs and veggies, and maybe milk.
I've been spending a lot of time day dreaming of how much farming we can legally do in our little city yard. Plants are easy. I've been wondering about rabbits. Myfarmer says they're the most efficient meat to grow. Can we use them for lawn mowers? Am I strong enough to break a rabbit's neck?
Simon is reading over my shoulder, and says no.
Simon also accuses me of mommy blogging. While ignoring the children. I counter this is not a mommy blog.
going to feed the children,
ephelba
* I do not have the visceral response to the thought of eating horse/donkey meat that most of you have. When I was little I asked what hamburger was made out of, and somehow I got it into my head that the answer was cows and horses. It wasn't until I was almost in high school that I learned otherwise. The upshot is that the thought totally does not gross me out at all, and I find it slightly amusing how gross other people think it is.
We're waiting on two sheep to lamb. They got into the game at the last possible moment. Everyday I walk out there and stare at them and feel really stupid. My goal is to notice when they lamb, catch the lambs so I can sex them, and check on the mom. The honest to goodness truth is that every time I go down there I have to figure out who the pregger sheep are all over again. You'd think tt would be really obvious- they're the two fat ones, but I swear some of the nursing moms are pretty portly too. I always end up staring at each sheep in turn "Ok, that one is a boy, that one already has lambs" etc etc until I get it figured out.
The donkeys and the horse have a history of taking advantage of my good nature and conniving me into feeding them more than they need to eat. Last winter I was worried we were going to run out of hay before Myfarmer got back, because they were going through 8/9 bales a day. Myfarmer said that was ridiculous, and I should cut them back to three or four bales. When she came home there was hay on the ground around the hay-holding-thingy, which the critters usually eat up when she was on duty. She expressed dismay, and the horse started picking up the hay and putting it back in the rack, as if she was shamed of how they'd played me.
Of course, I was again worried they were going through the grass sort of fast, so I decided I'd just set up more fence and then I wouldn't have to worry. I'm like a farming Jewish mother "Eat! EAT!". So in the process of laying out new fence, I lay a section on the ground for a second, forgetting what the purpose of a fence was. The donkeys did not forget, and promptly traipsed through to the fresh grass. They completely ignored me yelling "NO NO YOU FUCKING BITCHES! GET!" Maybell the horse heard me beg, "Please, Maybell, Stay in there. No! NO!" but she was all like "What? Huh?" as she walked past. I can not figure out how to tell that horse "No".
So. I figured, if I keep one donkey here, the other won't go too far. The donkeys don't care about the horse, but the horse cares about being near the donkeys, so if I've got them She won't go far either. It was a sound plan, and in the end it worked, but in order to put it into play I had to grab a donkey.
Donkeys are smarter than sheep. If the sheep are out and you show up they go the other way. Sometimes it's tricky, but you use this fact to herd them to where ever you want them. When they reach the edge of the pen they say "Rats! Foiled again! A pen!" but because of the herd's inertia they go in anyways. Donkeys are clever. When they see you move they say "Why is she going that way? OH! Because she wants to get in my escape path, cut me off, and put me back in the pen. Bet I can take her." and then they run. With stealth and speed I did manage to catch the younger of the two. I put her in a head lock and yelled for Boy to hurry. She expressed her frustration by stepping on me. She really wanted to kick me, but she'd have to get loose to do that. Thinking things through she decided to try and bite me. When that proved useless she decided she'd just drag me along wherever she intended to go. Of course, I weigh enough to be annoying, so when she got annoyed enough she'd try again to shake me off and bite me.
Eventually Boy brought the grain and things went according to plan. In the meantime? I spent a lot of time wondering just what donkeys were for, and how they'd taste*.
Oh! I forgot to mention, we took a neighbor kid with us on this adventure. He's never gotten to hang out on a farm, so it was a true adventure for him. He said several cute things, such as "I wonder if the wind is alive..." and "The geese hissed at me. I guess they learned that from hanging around with the cats." When he gathered the eggs I told Boy to make sure there were no hidden eggs- the hens are trying to go broody. When we explained they were trying to get the eggs to hatch, he asked if that meant these very eggs would hatch if you kept them warm.
Possibly.
He kept one egg in his hand the whole time. I gave him a dozen eggs, including two turkey eggs, to take home and eat. They came from the batch that included some eggs that had chicks in them, because he seemed to think that was neat. Not that you want to eat those, but because he could see what goes on. Instead of eating them, when he got home he put them in a muffin tin and put a lamp on them. Honestly, I have no idea what will happen. The ones that had gotten started and then got put in the fridge are already dead, I'm pretty sure. But the ones that hadn't started yet might still be viable. If he doesn't get bored turning them. I don't know. I do know the turkey eggs are duds. The Tom likes to hump anything with feathers, including the chicken hens, but he just can't get the hang of how humping works. He's very serious, but when you watch him his tail is miles away from the girl's tail. Miles and miles.
I do hope that someday we end up with the space to some farming of our own. Not enough for other people, just enough for us to have meats and eggs and veggies, and maybe milk.
I've been spending a lot of time day dreaming of how much farming we can legally do in our little city yard. Plants are easy. I've been wondering about rabbits. Myfarmer says they're the most efficient meat to grow. Can we use them for lawn mowers? Am I strong enough to break a rabbit's neck?
Simon is reading over my shoulder, and says no.
Simon also accuses me of mommy blogging. While ignoring the children. I counter this is not a mommy blog.
going to feed the children,
ephelba
* I do not have the visceral response to the thought of eating horse/donkey meat that most of you have. When I was little I asked what hamburger was made out of, and somehow I got it into my head that the answer was cows and horses. It wasn't until I was almost in high school that I learned otherwise. The upshot is that the thought totally does not gross me out at all, and I find it slightly amusing how gross other people think it is.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Yay!
Last week I was hustling the kids up the stairs, and when I opened the door both Boy and I were like, WHOA, because there was the most overwhelming smell of bandaids. I'm making the Boy open his window and putting the girls to bed and then running through the house like a hound dog, sniffing the air and saying "Do you smell it in here?".
The Oracle says it could have been heroin. Crack and crank have more of a burning plastic thing going on, apparently. Truly? I don't care, I just want OUT.
O!
U!
T!
OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT
I spend so much effort into making sure my family eats healthy foods, and does healthy things, and then to have some kind of vile smoke invade my baby's lungs just makes me crazy.
As does the toxic waste in our backyard. See, back in the day, every building in this town had something to do with the mills. Either it was a mill, or it housed the mill's workers, or it sold things to the mill workers, etc etc... Then such things went overseas. The mills closed. Before selling the bits and pieces of the mills, they used solvents full of polychlorinated biphenyls to clean them up. I ask you, how is that cleaning? Especially when you just throw the runoff out the back door? I wasn't there, maybe it was an accident, but the up shot is that the dirt that blows around from the empty lot behind our house has PCBs in it. So does the creek that runs through there that the children played in all last summer before the announcement in the paper about the PCBs.
OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT
So, it is with great relief that I announce our move.
Except, of course, that it means moving. What a load of suck that is. The packing, the sorting, the finding of new grocery stores, new gas stations, new friends and neighbors, the unpacking, the more sorting, the losing of things for at least a year.
At least we'll be doing it smoke free. Whilst enjoying having our own bedrooms, a second toilet and a basement. And a yard. A yard AND a porch. A YARD and a
PORCH and a GARAGE.
I suppose I shall look at like this: Whee! We get to sort through our stuff and get rid of crap! (I do, actually, like that part. It's very liberating.) And then we get to have adventures and check out all these new places! Super! New stores! New people! Alrighty! And I can stick everything we own into our huge attic and only let it down when it's learned to behave! Yay!
Thinking it's definitely worth the suck,
ephelba
The Oracle says it could have been heroin. Crack and crank have more of a burning plastic thing going on, apparently. Truly? I don't care, I just want OUT.
O!
U!
T!
OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT
I spend so much effort into making sure my family eats healthy foods, and does healthy things, and then to have some kind of vile smoke invade my baby's lungs just makes me crazy.
As does the toxic waste in our backyard. See, back in the day, every building in this town had something to do with the mills. Either it was a mill, or it housed the mill's workers, or it sold things to the mill workers, etc etc... Then such things went overseas. The mills closed. Before selling the bits and pieces of the mills, they used solvents full of polychlorinated biphenyls to clean them up. I ask you, how is that cleaning? Especially when you just throw the runoff out the back door? I wasn't there, maybe it was an accident, but the up shot is that the dirt that blows around from the empty lot behind our house has PCBs in it. So does the creek that runs through there that the children played in all last summer before the announcement in the paper about the PCBs.
OUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT
So, it is with great relief that I announce our move.
Except, of course, that it means moving. What a load of suck that is. The packing, the sorting, the finding of new grocery stores, new gas stations, new friends and neighbors, the unpacking, the more sorting, the losing of things for at least a year.
At least we'll be doing it smoke free. Whilst enjoying having our own bedrooms, a second toilet and a basement. And a yard. A yard AND a porch. A YARD and a
PORCH and a GARAGE.
I suppose I shall look at like this: Whee! We get to sort through our stuff and get rid of crap! (I do, actually, like that part. It's very liberating.) And then we get to have adventures and check out all these new places! Super! New stores! New people! Alrighty! And I can stick everything we own into our huge attic and only let it down when it's learned to behave! Yay!
Thinking it's definitely worth the suck,
ephelba
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