Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Snakes
Snakes. Are. Gross.
Now, I can't say that we killed the one we saw, because that would be against the law in Pennsylvania. But we did see one. A big one. A big discusting one. I almost stepped on it. Then I spent the next 30 minutes screaming.
Luckily Ernie was putting away the 20 foot long tree trimmer. So he cornered it. He held it down while I stood up on the front porch screaming "Don't Kill It!".
Ernie was like "What the hell do you want me to do with it?". I couldn't come up with an answer to that one. It was squirming it's way towards the house. This is not acceptable.
Against my will, I got the shovel from the back of the truck and took over the tree trimmer position. I closed my eyes and screamed while Ernie repeatedly told me "Don't look, don't look, don't look". Since I wasn't looking I have no idea what he actually did with that snake (*wink*). But when I opened my eyes it was gone.
My Hero!
I couldn't relax the remainder of the weekend. I had nightmares about snakes in the house. I was convinced there was one living in the plumbing, just waiting for one of us to be on the commode to strike. As far as I am concerned snakes are like roaches, if you see one there are a thousand more that you don't see. Just waiting to do their snake thing.
I decided that I didn't like the Country House anymore. I mean, I like having a house in the country, if only the Bears, Bobcats and Snakes would stay in the Woods. The cleared areas should be for people only. Maybe bunnies, racoons and opossums (thank you Anne for that spelling correction) can come out for a visit once in a while, turkeys too. But I didn't invite the scary animals over for tea. How rude of them to intrude on my voluntary seclusion? My in-laws have been informed that they can live at Adzentoivich Woods as long as they wish once they come back to PA. I will gladly limit my farm visits to once a month or so.
Now, I know I am over-reacting. Of course. But I am in way over my head here with this whole wilderness thing. I didn't realize I was so urbanized, but I have to admit that I am. There was nothing I wanted more than to run back to Brooklyn after the snake incident. But the telling part of the story is that I didn't. Instead, the next morning I donned my steel-toed Dairy Boots and went out to the Orchard to work. I did watch my step, but I didn't give into the fear.
Take THAT Snake-man!
Now, I can't say that we killed the one we saw, because that would be against the law in Pennsylvania. But we did see one. A big one. A big discusting one. I almost stepped on it. Then I spent the next 30 minutes screaming.
Luckily Ernie was putting away the 20 foot long tree trimmer. So he cornered it. He held it down while I stood up on the front porch screaming "Don't Kill It!".
Ernie was like "What the hell do you want me to do with it?". I couldn't come up with an answer to that one. It was squirming it's way towards the house. This is not acceptable.
Against my will, I got the shovel from the back of the truck and took over the tree trimmer position. I closed my eyes and screamed while Ernie repeatedly told me "Don't look, don't look, don't look". Since I wasn't looking I have no idea what he actually did with that snake (*wink*). But when I opened my eyes it was gone.
My Hero!
I couldn't relax the remainder of the weekend. I had nightmares about snakes in the house. I was convinced there was one living in the plumbing, just waiting for one of us to be on the commode to strike. As far as I am concerned snakes are like roaches, if you see one there are a thousand more that you don't see. Just waiting to do their snake thing.
I decided that I didn't like the Country House anymore. I mean, I like having a house in the country, if only the Bears, Bobcats and Snakes would stay in the Woods. The cleared areas should be for people only. Maybe bunnies, racoons and opossums (thank you Anne for that spelling correction) can come out for a visit once in a while, turkeys too. But I didn't invite the scary animals over for tea. How rude of them to intrude on my voluntary seclusion? My in-laws have been informed that they can live at Adzentoivich Woods as long as they wish once they come back to PA. I will gladly limit my farm visits to once a month or so.
Now, I know I am over-reacting. Of course. But I am in way over my head here with this whole wilderness thing. I didn't realize I was so urbanized, but I have to admit that I am. There was nothing I wanted more than to run back to Brooklyn after the snake incident. But the telling part of the story is that I didn't. Instead, the next morning I donned my steel-toed Dairy Boots and went out to the Orchard to work. I did watch my step, but I didn't give into the fear.
Take THAT Snake-man!
Friday, May 13, 2005
Screaming Babies
Not mine of course, I don't have any. Other peoples. My downstairs neighbor's, for example.
There is nothing like being awoken at 2:30 am by the shrill screams of a 3 1/2 year old through the bedroom floor. I am talking about blood-curdling screams for more than 30 minutes. Screams determined to wake mommy and daddy that only intensify the longer it takes for them to run to the bedside to ensure you there are no monsters under the bed.
I don't mean to give the impression that I dislike my neighbors in any way. However, they recently moved from their 3-bedroom apartment on the 3rd floor to a one and 1/2 bedroom directly below me. They have sold their apartment and are waiting for the contractor to complete renovation on their new building in Bed-Sty. In the meantime they are renting the apartment on the 1st floor.
Usually they are lovely boys. Born two years apart to the day. That is right, boy number 2 was born on boy number 1's 2nd birthday. Mom actually went into labor at the birthday party. The entire family is typically quiet and reserved. Mom is British, if that means anything to you.
Last night, however, must have been the night for nightmares in Apartment 1C (I don't think anyone in my building reads this blog; if they do, I am sorry Emma...no hard feelings, just ranting here...). One of the boys was extremely upset. I wanted to go down there and help him out. Not only would I be able to get back to sleep more quickly I would also feel much better for him.
I remember those nights as a child. I used to wake up screaming that I had a bad dream about a mummy (because I had watched Scooby-doo that day), the problem was I thought they were called Mommies not Mummies, so my dad could not understand why I was so terrified of dead Mommies... or there was the old standard fear that snakes were under my bed. As I got a little bit older I would lay in bed pondering what "forever" meant when they said it in church, and how could there possibly be something like forever? Or other nights it would be more along the lines of "What happens when you die" and "how do I know God is really there", good old Catholic terror. I would scream (usually for my dad, he always responded much sooner than my mom) until one of my parents came to my room. I would get myself so worked up I wouldn't be able to catch my breath long enough to tell them what was the matter. When I could finally speak I would argue with every sensible explanation they gave to me. I would make sure they sat at the edge of my bed until I fell back to sleep. If not, I would simply follow them back to their room and crawl into their bed. Being the oldest I did this more often than either my brother or my sister.
We all had our bad nights but I was the biggest victim. Afterall, being the oldest took a lot out of you during the day. Setting a good example was tough, even at 4 years old. At night my subconscious questioned whether or not I really did know everything. Usually I found that I didn't, which would prompt my downward spiral of 5-year old philosophical questioning leading to uncontrollable tears and screams of horror. The more deeply I thought about things the worse it was.
So I guess the downstairs neighbors believe in tough love or are just really, really sound sleepers because nobody ever went to help the little guy. He screamed himself asleep. I know because the screams and sobs would get fewer and farther apart until it all started back up again as loud as ever and then died down more quickly, repeat. I don't know who ended up falling asleep first, me or him. I do know I listened to him for at least 30 minutes.
I am sure his monsters went away somehow and he should be very proud of himself that he stood up to them alone and chased them away. I only hope he scared them enough so they don't come back tonight...
There is nothing like being awoken at 2:30 am by the shrill screams of a 3 1/2 year old through the bedroom floor. I am talking about blood-curdling screams for more than 30 minutes. Screams determined to wake mommy and daddy that only intensify the longer it takes for them to run to the bedside to ensure you there are no monsters under the bed.
I don't mean to give the impression that I dislike my neighbors in any way. However, they recently moved from their 3-bedroom apartment on the 3rd floor to a one and 1/2 bedroom directly below me. They have sold their apartment and are waiting for the contractor to complete renovation on their new building in Bed-Sty. In the meantime they are renting the apartment on the 1st floor.
Usually they are lovely boys. Born two years apart to the day. That is right, boy number 2 was born on boy number 1's 2nd birthday. Mom actually went into labor at the birthday party. The entire family is typically quiet and reserved. Mom is British, if that means anything to you.
Last night, however, must have been the night for nightmares in Apartment 1C (I don't think anyone in my building reads this blog; if they do, I am sorry Emma...no hard feelings, just ranting here...). One of the boys was extremely upset. I wanted to go down there and help him out. Not only would I be able to get back to sleep more quickly I would also feel much better for him.
I remember those nights as a child. I used to wake up screaming that I had a bad dream about a mummy (because I had watched Scooby-doo that day), the problem was I thought they were called Mommies not Mummies, so my dad could not understand why I was so terrified of dead Mommies... or there was the old standard fear that snakes were under my bed. As I got a little bit older I would lay in bed pondering what "forever" meant when they said it in church, and how could there possibly be something like forever? Or other nights it would be more along the lines of "What happens when you die" and "how do I know God is really there", good old Catholic terror. I would scream (usually for my dad, he always responded much sooner than my mom) until one of my parents came to my room. I would get myself so worked up I wouldn't be able to catch my breath long enough to tell them what was the matter. When I could finally speak I would argue with every sensible explanation they gave to me. I would make sure they sat at the edge of my bed until I fell back to sleep. If not, I would simply follow them back to their room and crawl into their bed. Being the oldest I did this more often than either my brother or my sister.
We all had our bad nights but I was the biggest victim. Afterall, being the oldest took a lot out of you during the day. Setting a good example was tough, even at 4 years old. At night my subconscious questioned whether or not I really did know everything. Usually I found that I didn't, which would prompt my downward spiral of 5-year old philosophical questioning leading to uncontrollable tears and screams of horror. The more deeply I thought about things the worse it was.
So I guess the downstairs neighbors believe in tough love or are just really, really sound sleepers because nobody ever went to help the little guy. He screamed himself asleep. I know because the screams and sobs would get fewer and farther apart until it all started back up again as loud as ever and then died down more quickly, repeat. I don't know who ended up falling asleep first, me or him. I do know I listened to him for at least 30 minutes.
I am sure his monsters went away somehow and he should be very proud of himself that he stood up to them alone and chased them away. I only hope he scared them enough so they don't come back tonight...
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Germano Hair
What you may be thinking, is Germano Hair? Well it sort of looks like this
Growing up, my mom and her 4 sisters always looked like the Sunmand Raisin lady to me. I actually thomght my mom was the Sunmaid Raisin Lady for several years of my young life.
Germano hair always seemed very mysterious to me. All of the Germano women had long brown wavy hair. Cut into layers, because it was the 70's, after all. My Aunts always looked like models or movie stars to me. And I still picture them this way today, even though most of them no longer have dark brown hair and only one or two have kept it below their shoulders. I always wanted Germano hair. Somehow my 13 year old hair couldn't achieve the same carefree curls or glossy length. No matter how many deep conditioners I bought from the local pharmacy for $0.50. No matter how much Alberto Vo5 I applied. I couldn't get it right.
Well, now I have discovered the secret. Age. Now that I have reached the age that my mom and Aunts were during their Sunmaid Raisin glory days, my hair has sort of morphed into Germano hair. Unfortunately, along with the Germano hair comes Germano hips and thighs. The Germano neuroses have begun to set in as well.
Oh well, at least my hair looks great! (as long as I remember to color it every few weeks to hide the Germano Greys)
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Stupid Blogger
I wrote a witty post yesterday afternoon about the Giant Inflatable Santa Claus riding the Lobster...Blogger timed out for routine maintenance and my story was never posted. Let me just say you all missed out on one hell of a blog post - and you have no one but Blogger to blame.
And don't think I am going to sit here and attempt to regurgitate the whole thing....'cause I won't, I just won't I tell ya'...
But it was really bizarre the day I came up from the subway to see a giant inflatable Santa riding a lobster like a rodeo bull. Sitting in the middle of Canal Street and 6th Avenue. The middle of China Town. Right near the Holland Tunnel. IN MAY... had to be at least 3 stories tall
And don't think I am going to sit here and attempt to regurgitate the whole thing....'cause I won't, I just won't I tell ya'...
But it was really bizarre the day I came up from the subway to see a giant inflatable Santa riding a lobster like a rodeo bull. Sitting in the middle of Canal Street and 6th Avenue. The middle of China Town. Right near the Holland Tunnel. IN MAY... had to be at least 3 stories tall
Monday, May 09, 2005
Lions and Tigers and Bears, OH MY!
Well, bobcats and bears at least.
Yes, it has been confirmed. We do actually have wild animals at Adzentoivich Woods. Now, of course I knew there were deer and fluffy little bunnies, cute little raccoons, apossums and loasd of frogs and duckies, but large black CATS!?!? Ferocious BEARS!? Hell No!
I mean, yes, I wanted a country house. And yes, I wanted it to be in the real country, not some suburbanized "country". But did I really think there would be life-threatening animals on my property? Nope. I am a city girl! If a bear came up to me while I was in the midst of sipping a margharita and swinging on my garden swing in my J.Crew floral halter dress and straw brimmed hat would I know what to say? I would not. Would I know what to do in order to keep form being eaten alive? Na-ah. What would I do exactly? I have no idea.
Big Cats
We spotted the Bobcat when we drove up the driveway Saturday afternoon. He was crouching in the tall grass like a lion in the Serengheti. He looked our Hyundia square in the grill and then sprung form the grass into the woods. We didn't see him again all weekend, but we did see a birds-worth of feathers in the orchard. No bird, just feathers. And I am talking big feathers, like from an Owl or a Teradactyl.
Bears
On the way out of town we stopped at our neighbor's, Frank and Rose Savitsky. They are part of the family that owned our property for the past 100 years. They told us all about the bears. What they said exactly was "Well, they only come around late at night or early in the morning, or sometimes in the middle of the afternoon. Like the time Frank was out in the yard and a bear walked right across the field to sit on our picnic table. Man, was he brazen. We called Robbie to come up with the truck. He drove right up the lawn in the truck and the bear didn't even budge. Then there was the time a 400 or 500 pounder came right up to the picture window. Oh yeah, you'll see bears. Don't leave food out." Lovely. How quickly can I get out of here? I just don't think I am cut out for this level of wilderness.
How am I suppsed to host lovely outdoor barbecues that carry on into the evening? I will spend my entire time scanning the parameters of the property so that I can spot any rustle at the edge of the woods that could possibly be a bear or some other flesh-eater that could somehow damage my guests.
I think I need to do some reading up on the subject before next weekend. How to escape a bear attack. And how to out run a bobcat.
You can rest assured that Ernie and I will not be doing midnight walks up the driveway any longer.
Yes, it has been confirmed. We do actually have wild animals at Adzentoivich Woods. Now, of course I knew there were deer and fluffy little bunnies, cute little raccoons, apossums and loasd of frogs and duckies, but large black CATS!?!? Ferocious BEARS!? Hell No!
I mean, yes, I wanted a country house. And yes, I wanted it to be in the real country, not some suburbanized "country". But did I really think there would be life-threatening animals on my property? Nope. I am a city girl! If a bear came up to me while I was in the midst of sipping a margharita and swinging on my garden swing in my J.Crew floral halter dress and straw brimmed hat would I know what to say? I would not. Would I know what to do in order to keep form being eaten alive? Na-ah. What would I do exactly? I have no idea.
Big Cats
We spotted the Bobcat when we drove up the driveway Saturday afternoon. He was crouching in the tall grass like a lion in the Serengheti. He looked our Hyundia square in the grill and then sprung form the grass into the woods. We didn't see him again all weekend, but we did see a birds-worth of feathers in the orchard. No bird, just feathers. And I am talking big feathers, like from an Owl or a Teradactyl.
Bears
On the way out of town we stopped at our neighbor's, Frank and Rose Savitsky. They are part of the family that owned our property for the past 100 years. They told us all about the bears. What they said exactly was "Well, they only come around late at night or early in the morning, or sometimes in the middle of the afternoon. Like the time Frank was out in the yard and a bear walked right across the field to sit on our picnic table. Man, was he brazen. We called Robbie to come up with the truck. He drove right up the lawn in the truck and the bear didn't even budge. Then there was the time a 400 or 500 pounder came right up to the picture window. Oh yeah, you'll see bears. Don't leave food out." Lovely. How quickly can I get out of here? I just don't think I am cut out for this level of wilderness.
How am I suppsed to host lovely outdoor barbecues that carry on into the evening? I will spend my entire time scanning the parameters of the property so that I can spot any rustle at the edge of the woods that could possibly be a bear or some other flesh-eater that could somehow damage my guests.
I think I need to do some reading up on the subject before next weekend. How to escape a bear attack. And how to out run a bobcat.
You can rest assured that Ernie and I will not be doing midnight walks up the driveway any longer.
Gardening Supplies
Yes, we drive our equipment down from the garden house to the Orchard.
You would think the Garden House would be near the garden...no such luck at Adzentoivich Woods.
Expect future photos of the NEW garden house residing within the orchard.
You would think the Garden House would be near the garden...no such luck at Adzentoivich Woods.
Expect future photos of the NEW garden house residing within the orchard.
Planting in the Orchard...
...or "Call Me Martha".
Here I am planting azaleas in the orchard, wearing SPF 50.
I am definitely having way too much fun with this whole farm thing.
Here I am planting azaleas in the orchard, wearing SPF 50.
I am definitely having way too much fun with this whole farm thing.
The Vegetable Garden After the First Till
Our push mower worked well to mow the vegetable garden area. We only ran out of gas once.
Ernie tilled almost the entire the space. The new tiller has already proved well worth the expense. Next week we finish tilling and get some plants in the ground.
Ernie tilled almost the entire the space. The new tiller has already proved well worth the expense. Next week we finish tilling and get some plants in the ground.
The Orchard with Marked Walkways
Finally! Our hard work is beginning to pay off. The fruit trees have almost all sprouted leaves and the blueberries are growing strong. Next week's project is to buy and spread a ton of mulch. Fun!
We found the grapes and the raspberries were still very stick-like, unfortunately. I don't know how much it rained, if at all, since we planted them two weekends ago. Hopefully they will perk up by next weekend.
We marked the walkways (pink string) and planted some flowering bushes along the way. The vision is becoming a realty...
We found the grapes and the raspberries were still very stick-like, unfortunately. I don't know how much it rained, if at all, since we planted them two weekends ago. Hopefully they will perk up by next weekend.
We marked the walkways (pink string) and planted some flowering bushes along the way. The vision is becoming a realty...
Hiking the Streambed
We hiked the stream on Sunday morning to find out why we had suddenly lost water at the house. There are so many beautiful places to hike on the farm.
Split in our Water Line
We had no water again this weekend. We discovered part of the reason was a split in our water line. After a Sunday morning firedrill to Lowe's we found that most plumbing supply stores in PA are closed on Sundays.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
A Man And His Roto-Tiller
The new toy. A counter rotating roto-tiller. We will get a lot of use out of this piece of equipment. Lot's of land to till.
The Orchard
Yes, the Orchard is almost complete.
We now have two pear trees, one cherry tree and five apple trees. Yes, they look like sticks, but some of those sticks have little leaves popping out.
We are currently reading up on pruning fruit trees. Who knew there was going to be so much work involved? We just thought it might be nice to make some pies and jams.
We have visions of someday having children walk through the orchard on their wedding day...can you imagine it?
We now have two pear trees, one cherry tree and five apple trees. Yes, they look like sticks, but some of those sticks have little leaves popping out.
We are currently reading up on pruning fruit trees. Who knew there was going to be so much work involved? We just thought it might be nice to make some pies and jams.
We have visions of someday having children walk through the orchard on their wedding day...can you imagine it?
Mrs. Jinx Tries To Escape
Jinxie loves her farm and she loves to sit out on the porch. She also loves to practice her "precious" pose, displayed here, when others aren't looking.
Godzilla Running for Cover
Godzilla really doesn't like the farm and he hates being outdoors. Here he is running for the door to get back into the house while doing his best raccoon impersonation.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Dunno
I don't know what to write about today. Some days I walk around composing blog entries in my head that never get written. I am sure I composed at least 25 blog entries besides Some Days Suck last week, I just never had the time to sit down and log in. Sad really. Some of them were really interesting.
Oh well.
In the meantime I will just sit here and write about nothing until something actualy comes to mind. Something always does, come to mind that is. Hardly ever am I faced with an empty mind - quite the opposite really. Too much stuff going on up there for one thing to rise to the surface and take precedence over all the rest of the clamor. You have to be a really, really strong thought in order to be heard over all of the other things going on in my brain. I guess this is it then. Too many things to think about. Having too many things to think about. It is a terrible plague really. Monkey Brain I like to call it. Ernie used to combat Monkey Brain by "Counting". He would stand in a martial arts pose and count to 100, if a thought came into his mind at any point during counting he would start over from the beginning. I think he made it through to the end a time or two.
Maybe I'll try that.
Oh well.
In the meantime I will just sit here and write about nothing until something actualy comes to mind. Something always does, come to mind that is. Hardly ever am I faced with an empty mind - quite the opposite really. Too much stuff going on up there for one thing to rise to the surface and take precedence over all the rest of the clamor. You have to be a really, really strong thought in order to be heard over all of the other things going on in my brain. I guess this is it then. Too many things to think about. Having too many things to think about. It is a terrible plague really. Monkey Brain I like to call it. Ernie used to combat Monkey Brain by "Counting". He would stand in a martial arts pose and count to 100, if a thought came into his mind at any point during counting he would start over from the beginning. I think he made it through to the end a time or two.
Maybe I'll try that.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Some Days Suck
Today is one of those days. Some days, no matter how hard I try to be cheery and stay positive, it just doesn't work. Then I think about it and I don't know why I think I need to always be the chipper one anyway - don't I get a day off like everyone else? Some days everything just seems bleak and I don't know why, but I also don't feel guilty about it either. And don't tell me it's PMS because it's not, and if it were I certainly wouldn't admit it anyway. That would only piss me off more.
And sometimes it isn't an entire day of disappointment and utter anger at the world, but only part of a day. On those occasions there will be a Zen moment that breaks through the haze of hopelessness and turns my perspective around. I am waiting for that Zen moment right now.
Until that time, don't bother to talk to me. I won't reply with a snappy answer. I am not going to entertain you with my wit today. Let's save that for tomorrow. After a good night's sleep.
I am going to go listen to Marilyn Manson now.
And sometimes it isn't an entire day of disappointment and utter anger at the world, but only part of a day. On those occasions there will be a Zen moment that breaks through the haze of hopelessness and turns my perspective around. I am waiting for that Zen moment right now.
Until that time, don't bother to talk to me. I won't reply with a snappy answer. I am not going to entertain you with my wit today. Let's save that for tomorrow. After a good night's sleep.
I am going to go listen to Marilyn Manson now.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
I Will Take Your Comments Now
For those of you who have tried to leave comments only to be rejected by Blogger, take heart, I have updated all settings so that now anyone may post a comment. Now we will really see who is reading....
Purple Shoes with Black Flowered Socks
...Don't look very hip. Nor do they look very sane come to think of it. And yet for some reason this is what I chose to wear today. Frightening, really.
I could attribute this choice to being over-tired, running late, or lack of plain black socks...but any way you look at it I am turning into someone's mom. Though I am not really anyone's mom, which makes it all the worse.
Why is this happening to me? How could I go out of the house like this? I did look in the full-length mirror before walking out the door and somehow convinced myself that it was OK. Someone should have stopped me, really.
And it's not just purple shoes, but purple shoes with little cut-outs in the front to really show-off my black socks with the little mauve flowers. They have bows even. You can imagine it can't you?
Don't get me wrong, the shoes are very cute on their own, as are the socks. But it is the combination of the two that has gotten me worried.
I think it is time I pull myself away from the computer long enough to notice what the cool people are wearing these days. Perhaps peruse a recent issue of Vogue or something. Get cable? Pay attention to the world around me?
Or I could simply go on looking like the crazy lady with the unkempt hair and mismatched footwear. The make-upless girl who has no time to consider if her coat and shoes match her purse, or whether or not she has visible panty lines (*gasp*). I could easily slip into the thirty-something (I almost wrote middle-aged but couldn't do it) abyss where a woman can either look like she is in her 20's or like she is a mid-western school teacher mom in her 40ish 50s with salt and pepper hair, over-grown eyebrows, unpainted toes and jeans that sit on the waist.
Help me, please. I don't deserve this, really I don't. I have been a devoted fashion slave these past 30-odd years yet this all seems to have come about so quickly. I didn't even see it sneaking up on me, yet here I am wearing purple shoes with black flowered socks...
I could attribute this choice to being over-tired, running late, or lack of plain black socks...but any way you look at it I am turning into someone's mom. Though I am not really anyone's mom, which makes it all the worse.
Why is this happening to me? How could I go out of the house like this? I did look in the full-length mirror before walking out the door and somehow convinced myself that it was OK. Someone should have stopped me, really.
And it's not just purple shoes, but purple shoes with little cut-outs in the front to really show-off my black socks with the little mauve flowers. They have bows even. You can imagine it can't you?
Don't get me wrong, the shoes are very cute on their own, as are the socks. But it is the combination of the two that has gotten me worried.
I think it is time I pull myself away from the computer long enough to notice what the cool people are wearing these days. Perhaps peruse a recent issue of Vogue or something. Get cable? Pay attention to the world around me?
Or I could simply go on looking like the crazy lady with the unkempt hair and mismatched footwear. The make-upless girl who has no time to consider if her coat and shoes match her purse, or whether or not she has visible panty lines (*gasp*). I could easily slip into the thirty-something (I almost wrote middle-aged but couldn't do it) abyss where a woman can either look like she is in her 20's or like she is a mid-western school teacher mom in her 40ish 50s with salt and pepper hair, over-grown eyebrows, unpainted toes and jeans that sit on the waist.
Help me, please. I don't deserve this, really I don't. I have been a devoted fashion slave these past 30-odd years yet this all seems to have come about so quickly. I didn't even see it sneaking up on me, yet here I am wearing purple shoes with black flowered socks...
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Thank you Josette!
OK, so Josette is reading the blog. Thank you Josette!
She pointed out that my Jum Thorpe Earth Day celebration entry refers to an event that occured in 2003...ah well, I am sure they must be having some sort of something this year. However, if they are nobody seems to have bothered to post it online anywhere because I just couldn't find it. And let's not forget that the internet is my life - the search engines are my bloodline. If I couldn't find it on Google it must not exist!
Now I know somebody is going to send me a link and make me look like a schmuck....
Happy Earth Day, or whatever
She pointed out that my Jum Thorpe Earth Day celebration entry refers to an event that occured in 2003...ah well, I am sure they must be having some sort of something this year. However, if they are nobody seems to have bothered to post it online anywhere because I just couldn't find it. And let's not forget that the internet is my life - the search engines are my bloodline. If I couldn't find it on Google it must not exist!
Now I know somebody is going to send me a link and make me look like a schmuck....
Happy Earth Day, or whatever
Nobody is Reading This
OK. So now I know nobody is reading this stupid blog.
I titled the entry two entries ago Jum Thorpe, instead of Jim Thorpe and nobody told me. Thanks a lot friends and family...
I titled the entry two entries ago Jum Thorpe, instead of Jim Thorpe and nobody told me. Thanks a lot friends and family...
Poison Ivy
Ernie's got it. He's got it bad.
Two or three weekends ago Ernie decided to burn some of the brush along the creek. Ever since then his forearms have been covered in what we assume is some type of poison ivy. It itches.
We now have 6 or 7 different remedies sitting on our bathroom sink. None of which have helped in the least. One "wash" cost $35 at the local pharmacy. Rip-off. I think it is called something like Zanfell, or something like that. He also got Benadryl ointment (never saw that before) and some other ointment from the pharmacist with a name I can't pronounce. Nothing has relieved his agony.
He just called me to let me know he made an appointment with his old family doctor in PA for tomorrow morning. We are hoping that the country doctor will know how to cure a country ailment. Ernie just hasn't been himself since the rash appeared. The unrelenting itch makes him ornery to say the least.
Two or three weekends ago Ernie decided to burn some of the brush along the creek. Ever since then his forearms have been covered in what we assume is some type of poison ivy. It itches.
We now have 6 or 7 different remedies sitting on our bathroom sink. None of which have helped in the least. One "wash" cost $35 at the local pharmacy. Rip-off. I think it is called something like Zanfell, or something like that. He also got Benadryl ointment (never saw that before) and some other ointment from the pharmacist with a name I can't pronounce. Nothing has relieved his agony.
He just called me to let me know he made an appointment with his old family doctor in PA for tomorrow morning. We are hoping that the country doctor will know how to cure a country ailment. Ernie just hasn't been himself since the rash appeared. The unrelenting itch makes him ornery to say the least.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Earth Day 2005 - Jum Thorpe, PA
If anyone wants to come out to the farm this coming weekend please feel free! A neighboring town called Jim Thorpe is having a huge celebration with music, art, etc. It is a really artsy Victorian town.
Here is their festival info:
Here is their festival info:
Both Days
Events will be held in Asa Packer Park and at the Mauch Chunk Opera House. There will be crafters, vendors, food stands, children's activities and live music. Be sure to visit our Information Alley, where there will be displays, pamphlets and educators covering a variety of environmental topics.
Bands performing during the festival, in Asa Packer Park, include Deva Kant, Tim Perry Band, George Wesley, Jersey Cartwrights, Log, The Diggits, and Small Change.
SATURDAY April 26, 2003
6:00-7:30pm
Drum Circle and Musical Jam: Bring a musical instrument of your choice.
7:30-11:00pm
The Davisson Brothers (West Virginia Bluegrass) , with Unami (native american folk) and Didge Dude, will perform at the Mauch Chunk Opera House. Tickets are $10 and can be bought in advance at Horizons.
Hyundai Mud Bog
The best part of our weekend at Adzentoivich Woods, besides Ernie's food poisoning which he gave himself by drinking Orange Juice that expired 4/1, was at 7:30 pm when we couldn't get the Hyundai out of the mud in the front yard.
We know where all of the wet spots are, mind you. However, Ernie being in his weakened, food-poisoned state, forgot when he parked the car on the lawn.
We had everything packed to leave, including the cats in their florescent yellow Sherpa bags, and were pulling out already way behind schedule. The trouble was, when I hit the gas there was nothing. Hit it again, nothing.
Get out and look and see that the front of the car is now touching the ground. The tires are burried in mud up to the fenders. No kidding.
We try to get the car jack underneath the car to lift it up so we can put boards under the tires, but the car was so low in the ground the little jack couldn't even fit under.
Cats are crying in the back seat. Ernie is delirious. It is SO FUN!
We walk up to the Summer Kitchen (which is now a shed) and find some old rusty chains. I drive the truck down to where the car is and back it up so they are butt to butt. Ernie rigs up the chains and gets in the Hyundia to put it in neutral. I get the truck in gear and start to roll down the driveway and out pops the Hyundai. I swear I heard a thwapping sound as it un-sucked itself from the mud bog.
The whole ordeal took about 45 minutes from start to finish. 45 agonizing minutes if you are a cat stuck in a bag with a 3 hour drive ahead of you...and even worse if you are the driver facing 3 hours of driving with two screeching cats and a sick, groaning husband.
In the end we made it home before midnight and everyone is feeling much better after a good nights sleep.
We know where all of the wet spots are, mind you. However, Ernie being in his weakened, food-poisoned state, forgot when he parked the car on the lawn.
We had everything packed to leave, including the cats in their florescent yellow Sherpa bags, and were pulling out already way behind schedule. The trouble was, when I hit the gas there was nothing. Hit it again, nothing.
Get out and look and see that the front of the car is now touching the ground. The tires are burried in mud up to the fenders. No kidding.
We try to get the car jack underneath the car to lift it up so we can put boards under the tires, but the car was so low in the ground the little jack couldn't even fit under.
Cats are crying in the back seat. Ernie is delirious. It is SO FUN!
We walk up to the Summer Kitchen (which is now a shed) and find some old rusty chains. I drive the truck down to where the car is and back it up so they are butt to butt. Ernie rigs up the chains and gets in the Hyundia to put it in neutral. I get the truck in gear and start to roll down the driveway and out pops the Hyundai. I swear I heard a thwapping sound as it un-sucked itself from the mud bog.
The whole ordeal took about 45 minutes from start to finish. 45 agonizing minutes if you are a cat stuck in a bag with a 3 hour drive ahead of you...and even worse if you are the driver facing 3 hours of driving with two screeching cats and a sick, groaning husband.
In the end we made it home before midnight and everyone is feeling much better after a good nights sleep.
Old Fashioned Truck Pull
I kid you not when I tell you that I never even took my foot off of the clutch and the car was out of the mud. The weight of the truck alone was enough to pull the little Hyundia from the muddy muck. It took all of 3 seconds once we had everything rigged up.
I love my truck.
I love my truck.
Pulled to Drier Land by the F150
Luckily for us there were a bunch of old chains in the Summer Kitchen...
Mrs. Jinx and Godzilla at Adzentoivich-Woods
Did Mrs. Jinx and Godzilla enjoy their first weekend in the contry? Well, let me put it to you this way - Ernie and I didn't get much sleep on Saturday night. It was kitty-cat Disneyworld at Adzentoivich Woods.
The two cats have never had stairs before...Their new favorite activity is running up and down them as quickly as possible - as many times as possible - all night long. They also enjoyed jumping up onto the bed throughout the night scaring the shit out of me each time. Once, I awoke to a cat nose touching my mouth while the cat it was attached to sat on my chest. I assume I must have been snoring or something and so the cat was checking it out. Don't know which one it was - in the pitch black they both look the same.
Mrs. Jinx enjoyed the front porch, although we didn't let her have free reign in fear that she would chase a goose and we would never see her again.
Next time we are going to do what all city pet owners would do - bring the cat's leashes and harnesses and let them walk around the property while we keep a tight hold on them. God forbid we would ever let a couple of cats run free in the outdoors! The horror...what, you never saw a cat on a leash before?
The two cats have never had stairs before...Their new favorite activity is running up and down them as quickly as possible - as many times as possible - all night long. They also enjoyed jumping up onto the bed throughout the night scaring the shit out of me each time. Once, I awoke to a cat nose touching my mouth while the cat it was attached to sat on my chest. I assume I must have been snoring or something and so the cat was checking it out. Don't know which one it was - in the pitch black they both look the same.
Mrs. Jinx enjoyed the front porch, although we didn't let her have free reign in fear that she would chase a goose and we would never see her again.
Next time we are going to do what all city pet owners would do - bring the cat's leashes and harnesses and let them walk around the property while we keep a tight hold on them. God forbid we would ever let a couple of cats run free in the outdoors! The horror...what, you never saw a cat on a leash before?
Mrs. Jinx Watching the Action
From this vantage point she can see the entire kitchen/dining room area as well as monitor the walkway to the bathroom.
Brush Fire in Shenandoah
There was a fire on Sunday afternoon. As I was down in the lower field planting berries I saw planes and helicopters above. Not a common site in Brandonville, PA I assure you. It wasn't until I walked up to the house that I saw the billowing smoke rising from the far side of the mountain.
There is a forest fire warning out right now for the surrounding counties. I guess they need to institute one for Schukyll County too.
There is a forest fire warning out right now for the surrounding counties. I guess they need to institute one for Schukyll County too.
The Vegetable Garden Stake-Out
We staked out the vegetable garden area. Now we just need a tiller, or some type of powered tool, to help us turn all of the dirt and get rid of the grass! It's either that, or a bunch of willing friends who don't mind swaping back-breaking manual labor for a few beers and a warm dinner...
The New Berry Patch
We planted 6 blueberry bushes. 3 differeent varieties. Next year should be our first yield of crops!
Thursday, April 14, 2005
The Britney Baby
Britney is having a baby...
You have to click on this link...it is so funny. And the picture...OY! Poor Britney isn't looking as anorexic as she once did.
You have to click on this link...it is so funny. And the picture...OY! Poor Britney isn't looking as anorexic as she once did.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Spring Comes to Adzentoivich Woods 2005
This was the first weekend where all of the snow was melted: the grass and trees are turning green, flowers are popping up and birds are abundant.
This is going to be a great season...
This is going to be a great season...
Planting the Orchard
We planned out and began planting our Orchard last weekend. We now have a Granny Smith Apple tree, a Bing Cherry tree, an Orient Pear tree and a Moonglow Pear tree. We just ordered four more apple trees this morning.
We are learning a lot about fruit tree polination, varieties, sizes, etc. It has been very educational.
Next gardening project is the Vineyard.
We are learning a lot about fruit tree polination, varieties, sizes, etc. It has been very educational.
Next gardening project is the Vineyard.
Digging Drainage to the Stream
Ernie began digging the first of many ditches leading to the stream in an effort to control drainage and the flow of water on the property.
Brown Toad
Ernie dug up a huge brown toad while digging alongside the stream. I don't know who was more surprised - Ernie or the Toad!
Since the dam on the pond broke the water has drained quite a lot and is now standing still. We have a colony of about a million Pollywogs...future frogs if you will.
Reminds me of an old story where a young boy fell into a Pollywog Pond. He panicked and couldn't get out fast enough. His big sister stood on the shore of the pond screaming for help. When his mom rescued him from the pond he was wet and crying. Seemed the Pollywogs found their way into his trousers and underneath his shirt. It took several squigly minutes before mom was able to release all of the little frogs from the boys person. He was never the same again. He learned it was best to stay away from ponds full of Pollywogs unless you were wearing shoes with very good traction...Remember, Bryan?
Since the dam on the pond broke the water has drained quite a lot and is now standing still. We have a colony of about a million Pollywogs...future frogs if you will.
Reminds me of an old story where a young boy fell into a Pollywog Pond. He panicked and couldn't get out fast enough. His big sister stood on the shore of the pond screaming for help. When his mom rescued him from the pond he was wet and crying. Seemed the Pollywogs found their way into his trousers and underneath his shirt. It took several squigly minutes before mom was able to release all of the little frogs from the boys person. He was never the same again. He learned it was best to stay away from ponds full of Pollywogs unless you were wearing shoes with very good traction...Remember, Bryan?
Jason Burns the Barn
It was very difficult to keep Jason in check when it came to fire-tending. He kept building it higher and higher. Ernie, of all people, tried to convince him that bigger wasn't necessarliy better in this case.
In the end, Jason had his way and the job was done in half the time.
In the end, Jason had his way and the job was done in half the time.
A Barn Burning Party
On Easter Sunday we disposed of the remainder of the barn. Ernie and Jason tended the fire for hours. Jason referred to it as "Ranger TV"...alluding to his days in the Army.
Cousin Anne stopped by, mimosa's in tow (yumm...), with Hannah and Sebastian.
We managed to get rid of the barn and AllState has now reinstated our policy. I wonder how they would feel to know we carried out their orders of removing the barn by holding a two-day long bonfire on the property?
Our little way of sticking it to The Man.
Cousin Anne stopped by, mimosa's in tow (yumm...), with Hannah and Sebastian.
We managed to get rid of the barn and AllState has now reinstated our policy. I wonder how they would feel to know we carried out their orders of removing the barn by holding a two-day long bonfire on the property?
Our little way of sticking it to The Man.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Friday Morning 4am
I sit watching the Pope's Funeral on NBC/ABC/FOX/UPN/CBS - whichever network has no annoying commentary at the given moment.
I think...
Who told Katie Couric she was a journalist anyway?
KC: "Wow. Listen to all of them clapping. That's not something we do at American Funerals!"
Ugh!
And...
Most Americans are self-centered fools, especially those involved with the Media (though not my media, only the other stupid old-fashioned, bad media...)
An American Journalist: "What does it mean that three US Presidents are here today? This is a first in both the history of the Church and the history of the US. I think this is a political message, perhaps having to do with the religious ramblings in our country of late."
Agrh!!!
And lastly...
Another journalist, speaking to an American Bishop (on Wednesday, but it comes to mind now): "They stopped the line of people for an hour or so in order to do some maintenance. What exactly does that mean?"
Bishop: "Well, the Pope's body has not been embalmed. They do not do that here the way they would in the US.:
Journalist: "Most Americans would find that offensive I am sure."
Grrrraghhh!!!!
Why did I set my alarm to get up in the middle of the night to listen to a bunch of idiots discuss what it all means to America? I expected, foolishly, to be a witness to some Dan Brown-esque event steeped in centuries-old tradition and shrouded in mystery. Something that would be slightly moving and perhaps inspiring in some way. A palpable translation of the works of Michelangelo or Da Vinci and the other Renaissance Masters. A common connection to all of those Popes and peoples who had gone before. I hoped to hear the Italian and Latin words of the choir and the mass. I thought this event in time would transcend Americanisms or Europeanisms, or any other isms for that matter. I wanted it to be more Romantic. But it wasn't, it didn't.
Instead I got Katie Couric making high school cheerleader caliber comments while Isabella Rosallini and Michael Bloomberg took turns translating the mass (not really, I don't think, but sounded awfully close, unfortunately). I got no information about the beautiful voices of the Sistine Choir, the arrangements they sang or the tradition behind any of the continuous music that was part of the service. Where did that tapestry over St. Peter's basilica door come from? How old was it? Had it been used in this manner before? How about some information about St. Peter's itself?
It was difficult to feel moved. I didn't have the opportunity to become engrossed in the scene because I was too busy flipping channels to escape the US Political Agenda booming from my set under the pretense of Papal Honor. And the breakaways to the crowd of people which lingered momentarily on carefully selected men and women who were either extremely good looking or extremely pious looking, seemed so contrived it was almost laughable.
So sad.
Will American Media, or the general American populace, ever understand that America is not the center of the Universe? This one universal event that brought people together of all races, religions and nations was not even enough to drive that point home. If we let go of some of the burden of creating a world culture based on our own, or our expectations that the whole world should be like it is in Suburbia, we might all be much more at ease and less stressed out.
I found the most acceptable broadcast to be on Fox, believe it or not. I think NBC was the worst, sorry Katie.
The Vatican has an official web site (YES!). This is probably where those of us interested in true historical meaning can satisfy our questions. And for the others of us who prefer a different historical perspective there is always this site .
Now I must go get another cup of coffee. Watching 2 1/2 hours of television in the middle of the night is no easy feat when one must work the following day...maybe some Divine spirit can help me stay awake until 6:30 this evening....
I think...
Who told Katie Couric she was a journalist anyway?
KC: "Wow. Listen to all of them clapping. That's not something we do at American Funerals!"
Ugh!
And...
Most Americans are self-centered fools, especially those involved with the Media (though not my media, only the other stupid old-fashioned, bad media...)
An American Journalist: "What does it mean that three US Presidents are here today? This is a first in both the history of the Church and the history of the US. I think this is a political message, perhaps having to do with the religious ramblings in our country of late."
Agrh!!!
And lastly...
Another journalist, speaking to an American Bishop (on Wednesday, but it comes to mind now): "They stopped the line of people for an hour or so in order to do some maintenance. What exactly does that mean?"
Bishop: "Well, the Pope's body has not been embalmed. They do not do that here the way they would in the US.:
Journalist: "Most Americans would find that offensive I am sure."
Grrrraghhh!!!!
Why did I set my alarm to get up in the middle of the night to listen to a bunch of idiots discuss what it all means to America? I expected, foolishly, to be a witness to some Dan Brown-esque event steeped in centuries-old tradition and shrouded in mystery. Something that would be slightly moving and perhaps inspiring in some way. A palpable translation of the works of Michelangelo or Da Vinci and the other Renaissance Masters. A common connection to all of those Popes and peoples who had gone before. I hoped to hear the Italian and Latin words of the choir and the mass. I thought this event in time would transcend Americanisms or Europeanisms, or any other isms for that matter. I wanted it to be more Romantic. But it wasn't, it didn't.
Instead I got Katie Couric making high school cheerleader caliber comments while Isabella Rosallini and Michael Bloomberg took turns translating the mass (not really, I don't think, but sounded awfully close, unfortunately). I got no information about the beautiful voices of the Sistine Choir, the arrangements they sang or the tradition behind any of the continuous music that was part of the service. Where did that tapestry over St. Peter's basilica door come from? How old was it? Had it been used in this manner before? How about some information about St. Peter's itself?
It was difficult to feel moved. I didn't have the opportunity to become engrossed in the scene because I was too busy flipping channels to escape the US Political Agenda booming from my set under the pretense of Papal Honor. And the breakaways to the crowd of people which lingered momentarily on carefully selected men and women who were either extremely good looking or extremely pious looking, seemed so contrived it was almost laughable.
So sad.
Will American Media, or the general American populace, ever understand that America is not the center of the Universe? This one universal event that brought people together of all races, religions and nations was not even enough to drive that point home. If we let go of some of the burden of creating a world culture based on our own, or our expectations that the whole world should be like it is in Suburbia, we might all be much more at ease and less stressed out.
I found the most acceptable broadcast to be on Fox, believe it or not. I think NBC was the worst, sorry Katie.
The Vatican has an official web site (YES!). This is probably where those of us interested in true historical meaning can satisfy our questions. And for the others of us who prefer a different historical perspective there is always this site .
Now I must go get another cup of coffee. Watching 2 1/2 hours of television in the middle of the night is no easy feat when one must work the following day...maybe some Divine spirit can help me stay awake until 6:30 this evening....
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Sick Days
Whatever happened to sick days?
Whatever happened to mom bringing hot chicken soup with crackers on a tray to my bedside?
Where did the little black and white TV go that used to be set at the foot of my bed so I wouldn't get too bored?
Who took those fuzzy slippers I used to shuffle around in from my bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back?
Where did that heating pad go that mom used to put behind my back to ease my aches?
How about the cool washclothes to chill my fever, and the extra blankets to sweat it out?
Sick Days 2005
Wake up
Log on
Download
Send
Get tea
Feed cats
Blow nose
Repeat
Take a nap
Answer Phone
Log on
Download
Send
Repeat
Spreadsheets
not bed sheets
Cell phones
not celluloid
Blow nose
Repeat
Sick days...2005 (*sniffle*)
Whatever happened to mom bringing hot chicken soup with crackers on a tray to my bedside?
Where did the little black and white TV go that used to be set at the foot of my bed so I wouldn't get too bored?
Who took those fuzzy slippers I used to shuffle around in from my bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back?
Where did that heating pad go that mom used to put behind my back to ease my aches?
How about the cool washclothes to chill my fever, and the extra blankets to sweat it out?
Sick Days 2005
Wake up
Log on
Download
Send
Get tea
Feed cats
Blow nose
Repeat
Take a nap
Answer Phone
Log on
Download
Send
Repeat
Spreadsheets
not bed sheets
Cell phones
not celluloid
Blow nose
Repeat
Sick days...2005 (*sniffle*)
Friday, April 01, 2005
Pope and His Shooter
This is what we need to all remember about Pope John Paul in his final hours. Not a weak broken body that is suffering, but a compasionate man who forgave the man who shot and nearly killed him in the 1980's.
Like the Dali Lama, it is his example of forgiveness and acceptance that we should all try to emulate. Religous beliefs aside.
Like the Dali Lama, it is his example of forgiveness and acceptance that we should all try to emulate. Religous beliefs aside.
New Google Gulp!
Google Gulp!
What is it you may ask? Click to find out.
Have you had your Gulp! today? (unfortunately, I have had many, too many Gulps!)
You can also read the related story on Search Views today.
What is it you may ask? Click to find out.
Have you had your Gulp! today? (unfortunately, I have had many, too many Gulps!)
You can also read the related story on Search Views today.
Oil
Anyone worried about the new studies released this week about oil supply? Anyone hear what Goldman Sachs has to say on the topic?
The news is not good my friends.
Washington, Oklahoma and North Dakota are raising gas taxes. There are warnings going off all over the place within the DOE. I am not usually a doomsdayer, but I haven't seen any encouraging news on the subject. Oil is now around $55 per gallon and the predictions are it will soon be more than $150.
The DOE has a web site (several of them actually) with ideas on how to conserve energy. It's worth a look.
The news is not good my friends.
Washington, Oklahoma and North Dakota are raising gas taxes. There are warnings going off all over the place within the DOE. I am not usually a doomsdayer, but I haven't seen any encouraging news on the subject. Oil is now around $55 per gallon and the predictions are it will soon be more than $150.
The DOE has a web site (several of them actually) with ideas on how to conserve energy. It's worth a look.
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