I should have stopped while I was already behind, but now where is the comedy in that?
A friend recently lost her father. She is one of the most kind, generous and sweet girls I know, so when the meal sign-up began to circulate, of course I volunteered right away. For a week I debated what to take, but had not made up my mind. Then yesterday came (the day I had signed up for). Going in I knew it was going to be a busy day...company Christmas party for the family that morning, straight to a cheer camp for Micah and then Dylan had two birthday parties. But there would surely be time. So we get up that morning and off we go. Christmas party was lots of fun for the girls. On the way home, we drop off Micah at her camp. Home to clean up a bit and work on our porch project before the cold front comes. Back up to the gym to watch her "parent performance". Home to wrap presents and take Dylan to party #1. Then back home to eat dinner, relax and watch a movie with Micah. (Did you notice I forgot something in there). Right. Half way into the movie, I sit up straight, "I was supposed to take dinner to my friend tonight!!" Keith says in his calm, been-down-this road-before voice, "Well, it's 7:30, you might have missed it." I run downstairs and call, profusely apologize and promise to try again on Sunday. She graciously said that everything was fine and that they were not sitting around starving and waiting for me. They went ahead and made something else. And also said, "If you don't have time, it is really OK. We are fine." I think she probably was onto me and knew that the hijinks were just starting. I should have taken her up on it.
Fast forward to today. I opt for Chicken Spaghetti. There are multiple steps in the recipe, but I can do them between stuff today, plus it will make enough for us to have some too. It does require a trip to the store. So after lunch I cook the chicken and then run to the store. Chop some vegetables and mix the sauce. I sat the chicken off to the side while the spaghetti and vegetables were cooking. Alright, the timing is looking good, I just need to mix it all together. Sauce, check. Spaghetti, check. Chicken...? Wait a minute, what happened to the chicken? JAKE (the dog)!!!!! He must have taken it off the counter while I stepped outside to help Keith again with the porch project really quickly. Arg!!! I'm not sure what eating 5 chicken breasts is going to do to his stomach, but that is the least of his worries. Now what. Off to the store again. Except now I have brownies in the oven. I leave my 8 year old in charge of watching those while I'm gone. This time I opted for a rotisserie chicken because we didn't have time to cook it again. From there, things seemed to work out. It baked up fine, delivery was made.
However, learn from this scenario, if you are ever on the receiving end of my "hospitality", it is in your best interest to have a Plan B.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
THAT MOM...041
I have been sitting on this little gem for a little while now. Trying to give the incident a little distance I guess.
During the day in question, both girls were enrolled in camps. Dylan's was a day camp and Micah's was a camp until noon. A free morning to do with as I pleased. We were having guests for the weekend, so of course it becomes start and try futilely to get as many projects done as possible. I was madly trying to clean house, menu plan, prepare presentable guest quarters and sew some curtains for Dylan's room. The curtains were for the french doors that go to the balcony. As I make 100 trips up the stairs to measure, down to cut, up to iron, down to sew, up to assess, down to finish one. Repeat for the second door. I suddenly remember, mid-stitch, that when we were driving down the alley a few days earlier, I noticed something on the roof. Yes you read it correctly that I noticed it days earlier, but only now actually remembering once I'm inside the house to go have a look. I stop mid-stitch and go investigate. This is on the part of the roof that is visible from the balcony. I step outside and walk over to have a look at the object. Of course it is a Barbie. I'm sure it was just tossed over the rail and no one thought to mention that she might need a rescue mission. I couldn't reach her from where I was standing, and I didn't think it was smart to go out onto the roof on a 100+ degree day with bare feet. Mental note...retrieve Barbie at a later time. At my rate that probably means three more days. I should go finish that sewing project because I need to go pick up Micah from her camp in about 20 minutes. I try to open the door...LOCKED!!! I guess when I was unlocking it to go out the switch got turned back to lock again. I think, OK, lucky me, there is a second door to the balcony. Maybe on a very remote possibility it is unlocked from where I was messing with the curtain project. NO. I'm locked out on the balcony. No one is home. It is hot (which means I can't just wait it out but more importantly, there are no neighbors just milling around in their yards). No phone. I'm barefoot. Oh, and I need to go pick up my daughter...AND HER FRIEND THAT WAS COMING OVER FOR A PLAYDATE...in 20 minutes. I'm putting in a link (here and here) of the configuration of this balcony so you get an idea of what is about to happen.
There is no other choice. I have to scale it. I'm debating between going over the rail that leads onto the roof. That is initially easier. But remember, no shoes on a hot roof might not work out so well. Plus, getting off of the roof might be dicey. The fence right under it is rickey and it has spikey pickets. I opt for the other corner. Which just happens to be right on the front side of the house! Not that anyone was out there to watch or help anyway. This particular way has a brick pillar right below it. Someone with longer dimensions could have held onto the railing above and reached the pillar, but not me. There was some trial and error with hand/foot placement, recalculations and shimming that happened on my part to get to the brick column, but I made it!!! Thankfully all those years of climbing trees paid off. However, I'm still 6 feet in the air on this column. I somehow managed to shimmy down that as well.
I'm off the balcony, but the story doesn't end here. I try to open the front door. It is locked. I tried the back door. It too was locked. I thought, if I can just get into the garage, I can probably get in through that door. It just so happens that I had Keith's car that day because I was running carpool for Dylan's camp. He has a keyless entry pad that I can use to get in and open the garage. I'll just call him and get the code. Crisis solved. Remember the clock is ticking on going to pick up the girls. I walk next door. Please be home, please be home, please be home. YES!!! They are!!! Miracle, because they have three boys with lots of stuff going on all the time. The mom comes to the door and I say, "Hi, I'm barefoot, just got locked out of the house...on the balcony. I climbed down only to find myself still locked out. And I need to pick up Micah in about 10 minutes." "How can I help? And did you just say you climbed down your balcony?" "Yes I did. Although I should have since you have three boys that now know it can be done. If I can just borrow your phone, I'm going to call Keith and he can tell me the code to get into his car." I tried to call. No answer. Leave a message and try one more time. YES!!! He answered!...but he only knows the code by touch. "Well pretend! Touch it out in your head!!" My neighbor says I can take her phone to the car to try to talk through it. And she said, you need some shoes at least. What size? 6 1/2. Well, mine won't fit you, but you can borrow my 6th grade son's. I'm not above that, I'll take them.
I go to the car and Keith gives me the "4th button, 1st button, 3rd button, and 2nd. Did that work?" "No." "Well try this....did that work? "No." "Try this" "Still no, and why is it you don't know the code?" "Try this. And I don't need to know it if I can just type it in." "Still didn't work and obviously you can't just type it in." "Well, what do you want me to do? I'm at lunch with the guys." At this point, everyone is obviously losing their cool (although it would be arguable that either one of us had it to begin with). And I'm starting to panic just a little bit because I'm about to strand two 5-year-olds at camp. I just start typing in combinations and miraculously, it worked!
Returned the phone and shoes to the neighbor, thanked her and apologized for being the now official "crazy neighbor." She said, "Well, I'm always borrowing sugar or eggs." And I said, "Well, that is more normal than phones and shoes."
I'm now finally back in the house. With a few minutes to spare. So, I finished the sewing project AND picked up the girls on time.
During the day in question, both girls were enrolled in camps. Dylan's was a day camp and Micah's was a camp until noon. A free morning to do with as I pleased. We were having guests for the weekend, so of course it becomes start and try futilely to get as many projects done as possible. I was madly trying to clean house, menu plan, prepare presentable guest quarters and sew some curtains for Dylan's room. The curtains were for the french doors that go to the balcony. As I make 100 trips up the stairs to measure, down to cut, up to iron, down to sew, up to assess, down to finish one. Repeat for the second door. I suddenly remember, mid-stitch, that when we were driving down the alley a few days earlier, I noticed something on the roof. Yes you read it correctly that I noticed it days earlier, but only now actually remembering once I'm inside the house to go have a look. I stop mid-stitch and go investigate. This is on the part of the roof that is visible from the balcony. I step outside and walk over to have a look at the object. Of course it is a Barbie. I'm sure it was just tossed over the rail and no one thought to mention that she might need a rescue mission. I couldn't reach her from where I was standing, and I didn't think it was smart to go out onto the roof on a 100+ degree day with bare feet. Mental note...retrieve Barbie at a later time. At my rate that probably means three more days. I should go finish that sewing project because I need to go pick up Micah from her camp in about 20 minutes. I try to open the door...LOCKED!!! I guess when I was unlocking it to go out the switch got turned back to lock again. I think, OK, lucky me, there is a second door to the balcony. Maybe on a very remote possibility it is unlocked from where I was messing with the curtain project. NO. I'm locked out on the balcony. No one is home. It is hot (which means I can't just wait it out but more importantly, there are no neighbors just milling around in their yards). No phone. I'm barefoot. Oh, and I need to go pick up my daughter...AND HER FRIEND THAT WAS COMING OVER FOR A PLAYDATE...in 20 minutes. I'm putting in a link (here and here) of the configuration of this balcony so you get an idea of what is about to happen.
There is no other choice. I have to scale it. I'm debating between going over the rail that leads onto the roof. That is initially easier. But remember, no shoes on a hot roof might not work out so well. Plus, getting off of the roof might be dicey. The fence right under it is rickey and it has spikey pickets. I opt for the other corner. Which just happens to be right on the front side of the house! Not that anyone was out there to watch or help anyway. This particular way has a brick pillar right below it. Someone with longer dimensions could have held onto the railing above and reached the pillar, but not me. There was some trial and error with hand/foot placement, recalculations and shimming that happened on my part to get to the brick column, but I made it!!! Thankfully all those years of climbing trees paid off. However, I'm still 6 feet in the air on this column. I somehow managed to shimmy down that as well.
I'm off the balcony, but the story doesn't end here. I try to open the front door. It is locked. I tried the back door. It too was locked. I thought, if I can just get into the garage, I can probably get in through that door. It just so happens that I had Keith's car that day because I was running carpool for Dylan's camp. He has a keyless entry pad that I can use to get in and open the garage. I'll just call him and get the code. Crisis solved. Remember the clock is ticking on going to pick up the girls. I walk next door. Please be home, please be home, please be home. YES!!! They are!!! Miracle, because they have three boys with lots of stuff going on all the time. The mom comes to the door and I say, "Hi, I'm barefoot, just got locked out of the house...on the balcony. I climbed down only to find myself still locked out. And I need to pick up Micah in about 10 minutes." "How can I help? And did you just say you climbed down your balcony?" "Yes I did. Although I should have since you have three boys that now know it can be done. If I can just borrow your phone, I'm going to call Keith and he can tell me the code to get into his car." I tried to call. No answer. Leave a message and try one more time. YES!!! He answered!...but he only knows the code by touch. "Well pretend! Touch it out in your head!!" My neighbor says I can take her phone to the car to try to talk through it. And she said, you need some shoes at least. What size? 6 1/2. Well, mine won't fit you, but you can borrow my 6th grade son's. I'm not above that, I'll take them.
I go to the car and Keith gives me the "4th button, 1st button, 3rd button, and 2nd. Did that work?" "No." "Well try this....did that work? "No." "Try this" "Still no, and why is it you don't know the code?" "Try this. And I don't need to know it if I can just type it in." "Still didn't work and obviously you can't just type it in." "Well, what do you want me to do? I'm at lunch with the guys." At this point, everyone is obviously losing their cool (although it would be arguable that either one of us had it to begin with). And I'm starting to panic just a little bit because I'm about to strand two 5-year-olds at camp. I just start typing in combinations and miraculously, it worked!
Returned the phone and shoes to the neighbor, thanked her and apologized for being the now official "crazy neighbor." She said, "Well, I'm always borrowing sugar or eggs." And I said, "Well, that is more normal than phones and shoes."
I'm now finally back in the house. With a few minutes to spare. So, I finished the sewing project AND picked up the girls on time.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
THAT MOM...040
Today, Micah and I decided to go to a tea room for a "ladies lunch."
Her summation of the event:"So a ladies lunch is no burping, tooting or making messes....I think it is too fancy for me."
Her summation of the event:"So a ladies lunch is no burping, tooting or making messes....I think it is too fancy for me."
Monday, August 6, 2012
THAT MOM...039
It is official. We are the weirdest family for our pediatrician.
Last week both of the girls had check-up visits scheduled. The appointment was at 4:30, so I thought I was being SOOOO on top of things by doing Micah's "Ages and Stages Questionnaire" (basically a developmental checklist to make sure she is on target) at 1:30...that is a good 3 hours earlier than I usually do it. Problem...when I tried to print the form, our printer printed about three words and even those were so faded you couldn't read them. So, I just write the answers on a blank sheet of paper along with Micah's handwriting, cutting and drawing samples. This is not presentation-grade quality work I'm about to turn in. I'm pretty sure I used paper that had print-outs from Barbie.com dress-up something or the other with which the girls insist on filling up our printer queue.
We arrive in the waiting room where they practice for their professional rodeo career on the rocking hippo. I don't mind because I've found that if you are making a big scene, they call you back faster. The nurse shows us to our room. These rooms are so tiny. Dylan takes the one chair, Micah takes the doctor stool. I just hop up on the table myself. Right off the bat, we are making some good impressions.
She first asks about Dylan. "Soooooo...this is her 8-year-old check-up?" "Yes. I realize she turned 8 in February and that it is now August. I also promised her that we would get her ears pierced for her birthday and we are doing that tomorrow. This is pretty much how our family rolls." Then she proceeded with the usual questioning.
"And now for Micah. This is for her 5-year check-up?" "I'm doing better, I'm only 3 months behind for her." "So you are. Did you happen to complete her questionnaire?" "Why, yes, of course! Here it is." "Ummm...I've never had anyone turn in something like this." "Well, you see, our printer had some difficulty. Oh, never mind. It is what it is."
I really wish I had that questionnaire to scan in for Exhibit A, but no, because the nurse said, "Do you mind if I keep this? I might need to show it to someone." Translation, it is hanging up in the break room for all to enjoy.
Then after the parade through the office for weight, eyes and ears, she says "The doctor will be in shortly, they can undress to their underwear." "Well, you see, we are going swimming right after this, so is a swimsuit OK." "I suppose."
As the moments tick by, I can feel the coat closet walls closing in. The girls are running laps, the wax paper on the table is completely shredded.
At last, he arrives. Glances at the swimsuits and shakes his head. He already knows who he's dealing with. He tries to check Micah's eyes while she is doing some cartoon-y type of eye roll. He looks at Dylan's vision reading and asks me when Keith and I got glasses. I told him I just got mine in December. Then Dylan totally busts me by saying, "Yeah, she got them, but she never WEARS them." Thanks, kid! Then they start rambunctiously playing with stickers. How does one play rambunctiously with stickers? I don't know, but they were. I think they were on a sabotage mission.
Finally, we are finished and he handed me the examination notes. In the few minutes he was with us, he totally pegged their personalities. Dylan--"Sweet girl. Doing well." Micah--"Quite the character!"
Looking forward to our visit next year. I'm sure they will be working out a whole new routine.
Last week both of the girls had check-up visits scheduled. The appointment was at 4:30, so I thought I was being SOOOO on top of things by doing Micah's "Ages and Stages Questionnaire" (basically a developmental checklist to make sure she is on target) at 1:30...that is a good 3 hours earlier than I usually do it. Problem...when I tried to print the form, our printer printed about three words and even those were so faded you couldn't read them. So, I just write the answers on a blank sheet of paper along with Micah's handwriting, cutting and drawing samples. This is not presentation-grade quality work I'm about to turn in. I'm pretty sure I used paper that had print-outs from Barbie.com dress-up something or the other with which the girls insist on filling up our printer queue.
We arrive in the waiting room where they practice for their professional rodeo career on the rocking hippo. I don't mind because I've found that if you are making a big scene, they call you back faster. The nurse shows us to our room. These rooms are so tiny. Dylan takes the one chair, Micah takes the doctor stool. I just hop up on the table myself. Right off the bat, we are making some good impressions.
She first asks about Dylan. "Soooooo...this is her 8-year-old check-up?" "Yes. I realize she turned 8 in February and that it is now August. I also promised her that we would get her ears pierced for her birthday and we are doing that tomorrow. This is pretty much how our family rolls." Then she proceeded with the usual questioning.
"And now for Micah. This is for her 5-year check-up?" "I'm doing better, I'm only 3 months behind for her." "So you are. Did you happen to complete her questionnaire?" "Why, yes, of course! Here it is." "Ummm...I've never had anyone turn in something like this." "Well, you see, our printer had some difficulty. Oh, never mind. It is what it is."
I really wish I had that questionnaire to scan in for Exhibit A, but no, because the nurse said, "Do you mind if I keep this? I might need to show it to someone." Translation, it is hanging up in the break room for all to enjoy.
Then after the parade through the office for weight, eyes and ears, she says "The doctor will be in shortly, they can undress to their underwear." "Well, you see, we are going swimming right after this, so is a swimsuit OK." "I suppose."
As the moments tick by, I can feel the coat closet walls closing in. The girls are running laps, the wax paper on the table is completely shredded.
At last, he arrives. Glances at the swimsuits and shakes his head. He already knows who he's dealing with. He tries to check Micah's eyes while she is doing some cartoon-y type of eye roll. He looks at Dylan's vision reading and asks me when Keith and I got glasses. I told him I just got mine in December. Then Dylan totally busts me by saying, "Yeah, she got them, but she never WEARS them." Thanks, kid! Then they start rambunctiously playing with stickers. How does one play rambunctiously with stickers? I don't know, but they were. I think they were on a sabotage mission.
Finally, we are finished and he handed me the examination notes. In the few minutes he was with us, he totally pegged their personalities. Dylan--"Sweet girl. Doing well." Micah--"Quite the character!"
Looking forward to our visit next year. I'm sure they will be working out a whole new routine.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
THAT MOM...38
THAT MOM CONFESSIONAL
I really want to like making sugar cookies with my kids. But honestly it makes me a little (you can read that A LOT) bonkers!
If you know anything about me, you know that I love details, have infinite amounts of patience, and am mad about orderliness. OK. No one was fooled, I know. I am the opposite of those things. So right off the bat, I should not make these cookies. Even just me, let alone involve other individuals that might have attention spans of your average 4 or 8 year old. But they are really yummy, so like having a baby, you forget the pain until you are in the middle of it again and wonder why you keep doing this. So here it is, your...
RECIPE FOR LUNACY
Step 1--Initiate: "Who wants to make cookies?". Enthusiasm all around. Dylan, "I'll get out the cutters." Micah, "I want them to have pink icing." They immediately start pulling everything out of that cabinet because the supplies are stuffed way in the back...kind of like the pain that was shoved way to the back of my brain.
Step 2--Reality: Me, "Hold up. We have to make the dough first. Dylan, why don't you start gathering ingredients?"
Step 3--Conflict: There is usually some scuffle as to who sits on which side of the mixer and whose turn it is to pour in the baking powder.
Step 4--Defeat: The dough is mixed. But the devastating blow..."It needs to chill in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours."
Step 5--Renew Interest: "OK girls, the dough is ready to roll out." Dylan, "Awesome, I want to put sprinkles on."
Step 6--Repeat Reality from Step 2: "We have to roll it out, cook it, let it cool, make the icing, color the icing, spread the icing, THEN come the sprinkles" You can see how all of these steps are not a good fit for me.
Step 7--Scold: "Micah, get your feet off of the rolling pin" "Dylan, quit licking your fingers" "Girls, let me get them all cut out and then you can eat the dough"
Step 8--Cook: First batch goes in the oven. Cook. Pans cool.
Step 9--Repeat Renew Interest from Step 5: "Girls, are you ready to cut out some more?" "No, we are playing on the computer." "No, I have this math homework I would rather do." "Get over here, we are making cookies" (frustration is mounting)
Step 10--Repeat Cook from Step 8: Cook and then lay out all the cookies to cool.
Step 11--Repeat Renew Interest from Steps 5 & 9: "Time to make the icing, girls" "Ugh, do we have to." "YES, yes you do. This is bonding time!!! AND YOU WILL LIKE IT DANG IT"
Step 12--Grit teeth and Carry On: Icing is everywhere, frustration is overflowing from all directions. They are frustrated because the cookies keep breaking or that they can't make them look pretty (and believe me the bar is set very low of what acceptable appearance is at this point anyway by me...if there is any icing at all on the cookie and not on the dog, that is a win). I am frustrated that we have 12 steps here (irony?) and it has not resulted in cookies in my mouth yet.
Step 13--Sprinkles (AKA Breaking Point): Why has no one in the sprinkles manufacturing industry come up with a solution to the poorly designed dispensing mechanism. People...we have got to have smaller holes on these things. I have one that doesn't even have holes...it is wide open. Listen, children love to sprinkle; parents hate it. Find a way to to make them less of a disaster and bridge this gap already. If there is a cure for small pox, can't we all work together to solve this world crisis? So this is where THAT MOM loses it. No one wants to finish, dogs are hiding under the bed, husband walks in and says, "There sure is a lot of screaming going on in here over cookies"
Step 14--Amnesia: "Wow these cookies are good, we should do this again!"
I really want to like making sugar cookies with my kids. But honestly it makes me a little (you can read that A LOT) bonkers!
If you know anything about me, you know that I love details, have infinite amounts of patience, and am mad about orderliness. OK. No one was fooled, I know. I am the opposite of those things. So right off the bat, I should not make these cookies. Even just me, let alone involve other individuals that might have attention spans of your average 4 or 8 year old. But they are really yummy, so like having a baby, you forget the pain until you are in the middle of it again and wonder why you keep doing this. So here it is, your...
RECIPE FOR LUNACY
Step 1--Initiate: "Who wants to make cookies?". Enthusiasm all around. Dylan, "I'll get out the cutters." Micah, "I want them to have pink icing." They immediately start pulling everything out of that cabinet because the supplies are stuffed way in the back...kind of like the pain that was shoved way to the back of my brain.
Step 2--Reality: Me, "Hold up. We have to make the dough first. Dylan, why don't you start gathering ingredients?"
Step 3--Conflict: There is usually some scuffle as to who sits on which side of the mixer and whose turn it is to pour in the baking powder.
Step 4--Defeat: The dough is mixed. But the devastating blow..."It needs to chill in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours."
Step 5--Renew Interest: "OK girls, the dough is ready to roll out." Dylan, "Awesome, I want to put sprinkles on."
Step 6--Repeat Reality from Step 2: "We have to roll it out, cook it, let it cool, make the icing, color the icing, spread the icing, THEN come the sprinkles" You can see how all of these steps are not a good fit for me.
Step 7--Scold: "Micah, get your feet off of the rolling pin" "Dylan, quit licking your fingers" "Girls, let me get them all cut out and then you can eat the dough"
Step 8--Cook: First batch goes in the oven. Cook. Pans cool.
Step 9--Repeat Renew Interest from Step 5: "Girls, are you ready to cut out some more?" "No, we are playing on the computer." "No, I have this math homework I would rather do." "Get over here, we are making cookies" (frustration is mounting)
Step 10--Repeat Cook from Step 8: Cook and then lay out all the cookies to cool.
Step 11--Repeat Renew Interest from Steps 5 & 9: "Time to make the icing, girls" "Ugh, do we have to." "YES, yes you do. This is bonding time!!! AND YOU WILL LIKE IT DANG IT"
Step 12--Grit teeth and Carry On: Icing is everywhere, frustration is overflowing from all directions. They are frustrated because the cookies keep breaking or that they can't make them look pretty (and believe me the bar is set very low of what acceptable appearance is at this point anyway by me...if there is any icing at all on the cookie and not on the dog, that is a win). I am frustrated that we have 12 steps here (irony?) and it has not resulted in cookies in my mouth yet.
Step 13--Sprinkles (AKA Breaking Point): Why has no one in the sprinkles manufacturing industry come up with a solution to the poorly designed dispensing mechanism. People...we have got to have smaller holes on these things. I have one that doesn't even have holes...it is wide open. Listen, children love to sprinkle; parents hate it. Find a way to to make them less of a disaster and bridge this gap already. If there is a cure for small pox, can't we all work together to solve this world crisis? So this is where THAT MOM loses it. No one wants to finish, dogs are hiding under the bed, husband walks in and says, "There sure is a lot of screaming going on in here over cookies"
Step 14--Amnesia: "Wow these cookies are good, we should do this again!"
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Reclaimed Garden
Also known as our garden made out of trash. We had been planning a garden for this spring and a little while back we got to work on it. We thought we might try to make it out of things we have around the house because we didn't want to spend much on it. History has proved that I am pretty ambitious at the start-up, but my attention fades as does the plants. So far so good though, our crops are coming in nicely. So here goes our trash garden building project.
You might remember these boards. They used to be the pantry shelves. Now they are going to be the walls of our raised bed garden.
The girls selecting the site and breaking ground.
Stake out
A little confused with the raised BED concept
Serious business when there are sparks involved
Bags of garden soil can make a good climbing/sliding feature in a pinch
Our dogs provided us with some great natural organic materials to enrich the soil
The bed in position with our poor man's drip irrigation system
The girls planting...and looking fabulous
Micah thinks we are planting monkey grass
Fast forward a few weeks for growing.
See our plants are doing OK. The girls painted the walls, we even used our leaves from the front yard for mulch. We are so cheap.
Here are some other features of our "reclaimed" garden.
I found some tires on the side of the road...planters.
Our gutter wasn't functioning properly...now it is on the fence...planter. That other pot
is an old whiskey barrel. We did purchase it, but it is repurposing.
That shutter serving as a backdrop for the porch table was off of the front of the house
I think I might have a problem because now friends are calling and saying, "I have an old piece of junk...do you want it for your garden." To which I enthusiastically said yes. How awesome is this water trough? Thank you Karen & Olin. Can't wait to fill it up too.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Garage
More along the line of, why bother with that? Admission, there are still tons of boxes in the garage that need unpacking. But we have been busy, and also, I'm a procrastinator, and also, I really would rather watch Vampire Diaries than unload another box. So the garage is still a mess. In an effort of getting a handle of the craziness out there, we are attempting to organize the stuff that is SUPPOSED to be in the garage, like tool bench, yard equipment, car, etc. I don't have finished pictures yet (and they might be a while coming), but here is where we started.
Yeah, it's bad. (Pay attention to that lamp shade, it is a project that is coming up)
Please note the redrum, red rum (that is all I can think about when we go in there) walls. Oh and if you can tell, the floor is peeling green paint. Christmas colors?
Over Spring Break, I helped clean out my parents garage and found my sister's an my old skates. Is this a flashback shot with those retro skates and a tie dye dress, or what?
We decided it was time for a skate break.
Good thing she has on those knee (entire leg) pads, cause she is going down.
Look who else was getting into the action. We found our rollerblades, so he thought he would show them how it is done. But just a little too scared to put them both on. I however did put them both on and there is a reason there are no pictures of me in skates...I didn't last long before I bit it. I can old school skate, but was always terrible with the blades.
Well...here is one wall done. Goodbye red walls. Now don't get me wrong, I do love red, but that was too much. I accidentally bought a 5 gallon bucket of the wrong paint for our balcony, so that is what is going on the walls here.
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