Crafty Project in Progress

Like the supplies for many a craft project, the ones for this plant hanger have been hanging (I'm so punny) around for a while. The dining room hoya has been perched on the windowsill since we moved in and it's getting a little fried on the window side.

I haven't played around with macrame for decades and my skill level was never that great. So. My cranky hands don't want to cooperate with making the knots. I should have cut the lengths of cord just a bit longer. But I think it will work out okay. I saw a plant hanger of this style in a store last summer and really liked it. A little platform suspended on cord with some beads for decoration. But it was an awful color and the wrong length so I noted how it was constructed and eventually got around to buying cord, a small wood plaque to use for the platform, and beads to snazz it up.

The bead spacing is all wonky but I can fix that. 

This plucky little plant deserves a new spot a little further out from the window. Just look at all those blossoms! It smells like honeysuckle in here!

Here's another spur of flowers about to burst open. I'm working on it. Naturally I will post an update when this little project has been completed. Tune in next month for exciting developments. What fun!

Recognize Your Privilege

I know this guy. He's a pretty darn good writer. A friend on Facebook shared a piece he wrote with me and now I'm sharing it with you. Please read it here. His words are moving and truthful.

Minneapolis is on Fire

I have numerous connections to Minneapolis and have for nearly all my life. Family members live in the area as do many friends. I attended a year of college and numerous concerts there. I'm familiar with museums and the cultural opportunities that abound in the Twin Cities. I have been horrified and shocked by the recent events there, first the murder of George Floyd by a self-righteous cop who knelt on his neck for eight minutes. And second, the subsequent riots that have taken place resulting in looting and the destruction of property. Fires, including the burning of a police precinct. This is not the Minnesota nice I am accustomed to. I'm guessing it took a black man being held to the ground under a white cop's knee while three other cops looked on to push things over the edge. On the positive side, there have been peaceful protests by regular citizens who are wearing masks and observing social distancing. The former police officer in question, Derek Chauvin, has been taken into custody and charged with third degree murder and manslaughter. No word yet on the other three cops, who were also fired from the Minneapolis Police Department over the incident. Today two of my cousins who live in the inner suburbs headed to Costco for supplies, bottled water and garbage bags among other things, before going into the city to help clean up. There have been mostly peaceful demonstrations across the country in support of black lives in solidarity with what happened in Minneapolis, even in my own state's capital, Denver. For anyone who doesn't think racism exists in this country this is your wake-up call. For those of you who counter black lives matter with all lives matter, you are right, but only partly. Drop your guise of privilege. Hell, recognizing that you are privileged would be a good first step. What happened to George Floyd would never have happened to a white man. Until the people of color in this country are treated fairly in every way we have so much work to do to fix those injustices.    

Any Questions?

My Second Born

It's this guy's birthday today. He's always been a character. While he has graduated to a car since this photo was snapped, he's still a character. One of my favorite ones. My baby who is no longer a baby is 28 today. Happy birthday, my beamish boy. I hope you have the best year ever. 

Madame Secretary, Madame Secretary

To the left we see fictional US Secretary of State Elizabeth McCord. To the right we see the genuine article in retired US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright. This is a screen cap from Season 2, Episode 2 of the tv drama Madame Secretary, entitled The Doability Doctrine. I always find it interesting when real life is incorporated into fiction. And if you hadn't guessed already, yes, I am watching this series on Netflix. I like it. It's a bit reminiscent of The West Wing with its snappy dialog and believable characters. Tea Leoni plays the titular character who has nearly as much going on at home as she does at the office. And if things in the real political world don't start looking up soon, I might have to watch The West Wing again. I'm just a little bit happier and reassured when I imagine that President Josiah Bartlet is residing in the White House rather than the actual current occupant.

Salad Days

Salad, it's what's for lunch. Butterhead and iceberg lettuces with some spinach thrown in. Cucumber, grape tomatoes, sharp cheddar cheese and buffalo chicken top off the base of greens. A little Italian dressing and croutons and we are ready to crunch in! I love a great salad for lunch when the weather warms up. Though I didn't grow any of these ingredients, later on this summer there will be tomatoes from my garden. I hope. Barring things like neglect, which would be totally my fault, or hail, which would be Mother Nature's fault, I am hoping for a delicious, backyard grown bumper crop.

Ghost in The Living room

Johnny is getting all the attention here. What I noticed almost immediately was the little girl that I circled in yellow. Startling because she very much resembles me when I was a child. Curly dark hair with bangs, cute little nose, pointy chin. And stylin' with that darling little purse dangling from her hand. She also appears to be paying more attention to the photographer than the speaker, which is also totally me. I think this may be a holiday gathering with singing involved. Someone's old family photo conveniently turned into a meme because Johnny looks terrified. I might have to dig out some of my photos and put my own spin on the images captured. This is going to be fun.   

Pay Attention

Calling All Fools

I saw this bit of non-wisdom yesterday. It is purportedly from the social media page of KPYN, a radio station out of Atlanta, Texas that broadcasts the unusual format of sports, news, and Christian talk. First of all, I take no offense from the fact that they did not capitalize the title of their most holy book, the Bible. But I would think that reverence and respect would demand that it be capitalized. The part of the sentence that comes before the comma indicates that they are attempting to reach those who believe everything they read. Everything they read. Consider that for a moment. They wish to exclude anyone who is a critical thinker. We don't need any smart people here, just sheep. No questioners, no ponderers, no seekers, only those who believe everything they read. Now that they have the most gullible audience possible, these sheeple are encouraged to do what? Anyone? Read their bible. So. Once intelligent, questioning, critical thinking humans are eliminated, they can begin indoctrinating the foolish and desperate into literally believing what is contained between the covers of the Bible. Which then sets up the us vs them mentality. Which divides people rather than bringing them together. The thing is, I have read the Bible. More than once in two different editions of the book. Which is precisely why I cannot be a Christian. I do believe that the Bible has historical significance. But as far as being a holy book that must be taken as the word of God from his lips to your ears, I can't take it seriously. It's been too heavily edited for political and religious reasons. It was originally written in three different languages, Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. The earliest of the passages were written nearly eight hundred years after any of the events described, with the first of the gospels being written forty years after the death of Jesus. Ten scholars who might take a stab at sorting out such a mess are going to come up with ten different interpretations, which is probably why there are five separate divisions of Christianity, the Church of the East, Oriental Orthodoxy, Eastern Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, and Protestantism. I grew up in the Lutheran church, which is a flavor Protestantism, of which there are forty distinct denominations in this country. Then there are the Methodists, the Presbyterians, the Baptists, and the Episcopals, which are further subdivided into their own denominations. Then there are individual startups and mega-churches with their own rules and regulations. I don't know about you, but I don't believe everything I read. Especially the Bible. Read it yourself and see what you think.

Slob Chic

My standards for dressing to go out in public have fallen. Fallen very far, down into the basement. The sub-basement. Under the parking garage. After working in the yard and helping the son do the semi-annual thorough cleaning of his bathroom I was stinky. And dirty. But I slapped on a baseball cap, put on my sunglasses, and hopped in the car to run a shopping errand. I thought, I'm putting on my fancy tropical print mask that covers whatever face is left under the sunglasses so I don't care. I do wonder if my previous standard of showering and a teensy bit of makeup will return eventually or if I have entered the fuck it, whatever stage of old ladyhood. And yes, old ladies say fuck it. Welcome to the new wave of grunge*. If you don't recognize me in my face mask, I'm the one in the slovenly clothes with the dirt under my fingernails. Wave at me from an appropriate social distance. Thank you.

*Notice how I cleverly snuck two genres of rock music into that sentence?

The Window Well Garden

Before. A few surviving perennials, a few dead ones.

After. Dead stuff removed, new perennials and pansies and violas planted to cheer things up. 

I've Been Potting

Front steps

Top of the driveway

Flagstone patio in the backyard

Pots on the peeling deck

Pot of Dianthus on the baker's rack on the peeling deck

So much to plant and I bought more today

Sciuridae vs Ave

This squirrel is being a total dick. It's a bit hard to see in the picture but he's sitting on a bird. That's right. His little squirrel ass is parked firmly on a bird who is protesting mightily. So mightily, in fact, that the squirrel convulses in rhythm with the bird as he chirps. Seconds after I snapped this, the bird escaped and seemed fine. I hope he gave his tormentor a good solid jab in the belly with his beak. This is the sort of wildlife drama I see out my office window. Which is probably why next to nothing gets done some days.  But that's okay. Nobody is paying me for the clever drivel I write. Not yet, anyway. Tune in next time for Window on Wildlife. You'll be glad you did. 

Proto Lawn

I haven't used the lawn sprinkler for over a year and a half. Yes, I forget how to set it properly for the lawn space. So I'm a little damp. The clover and grass are coming in nicely just three weeks after planting. Yes, there are weeds in there, too. And when the shade stretches over the area this afternoon I will be going over it for weed removal one square foot at a time. I hate goatheads. 

Time For a New Plan

This week marks the fourth anniversary of moving to Colorado. My five year plan to accomplish that came in at about five and a half years. These things take time and tying up all the loose ends from my last home took a little more time than anticipated. But all in all, things came together about as well as I had hoped. Particularly when you consider that I had not moved in thirty years. I had totally lost my moving chops and had to learn the routine all over again. Now I find myself pondering a new plan. Perhaps I will allot five years for this one as well and hope that this time I come in quite a bit under that goal. Washington, likely the Olympia area, is becoming an alluring choice of residence for me. I just haven't seen the elder son and Darling DiLly enough and want to live closer to them. I have come to feel that the move here was a stepping stone to where I truly need to be. For the most part it has been a wonderful adventure and learning experience. I know I will miss this quirky little house and a few people terribly, the same feeling I had when deciding to leave South Dakota. I will not miss the Greeley community just as I have not missed the Brookings community. Many things remain to be settled and I will be grateful for my remaining time here. But I feel that it's time to move on. Let's put an X on the calendar then and see where spring 2025 finds me. 

Science 101

My Tank Runneth Not Over, But is Full

The gas pump asked if I would like to use the forty cents per gallon discount. I replied, yes, please. That was fun.

Ain't She a Beaut?

There she is, my new water heater. It was installed this morning. I can assure you it is no fun at all buying something like this. I do enjoy having hot running water, but please! Doesn't that just magically flow from the tap? What is it about this house and water, anyway? Last night I had settled into my big comfy chair and was halfway into an episode of Grey's Anatomy when Reid came upstairs and announced that the water heater, or something in its general area, was making a funny noise. Indeed, it was hissing loudly. In the moments it took to go back upstairs and locate my phone and call the plumber, his emergency number, mind you, and come back down so he could hear the noise it had blown a leak and the laundry room floor was flooded. Then I spent the next hour squeegeeing water toward the floor drain and wiping up the floor with old towels. And I accomplished this while totally stoned. The last few weeks of yard work had aggravated my hands and it was time for my occasional dose of half a chewable pot gummy to knock back the nerve damage pain. It's nice to know that I can manage a household disaster while under the influence. And today my hands are happy, completely free from the itching and burning background pain. Which has me wondering if we are finally done with water incidents. So I can replace the carpeting. While I can now say that I'm something of an expert at drying things out down there I am also sick and tired of showing off my expertise at it. I think it's time for a shower. I will enjoy the hot water. 

Is This My Newt and Steinie?

Yes. Yes it is. This was snapped when they were about three months old. With all the growing and romping going on they were often tuckered out and could be found like this. Soon they would be awake again and probably head for the food before commencing with romping and climbing again. Yes, Newt eventually grew into those ears. And Steinie grew into those sizable paws. We lost Steinie nearly five years ago but Newt is hanging in there. He'll be fourteen next month. Pets. Life would be so dull and routine without them.  

Not My Newt and Steinie

These two kitties resemble Newton and Einstein remarkably! Steinie being long and sleek and Newt being rounded and fluffy. I can't say that I ever saw them cooperating like this but I like the idea. Steinie was the climber of the two so it makes sense that he is at the top of the cat tower. I do hope they did the math before attempting this. Cats know trigonometry. But they'll never help with your math homework. 

My Beamish Boys

Falls Park, Sioux Falls, SD, May 2011

I do love being a mom. These two made it pretty easy. Happy mother's day to me! 

Four Generations

Summer 1988. I'm standing with my mom, Edna, and her mother Esther is seated and holding baby Michael. His arrival magically turned me into a mother and Edna into a grandmother on the same day. 

I'm guessing this is 1958, I'm the chubby baby in my mom's lap. To the left is her mother Esther, and on the right is her mother, Kari Bleken. I remember the couch, it was a deep red color and prickly to the touch. Also the drapes, I think this was grandma and grandpa's house in Alamo. Great-grandma Kari was one tough cookie. I decided that upon becoming aware that she was pregnant with grandma Esther during the voyage to America in 1908. At the most that would have taken a week to two weeks, but she was in her last month of pregnancy at the time. Then they paused during the overland trek to western North Dakota in Willmar, Minnesota, just long enough for her to give birth. So my grandmother was the first child in her family of eight children to be born in America. I come from genuine pioneer stock. I think they were all a bit disappointed in me for giving birth via C-section. I'm cool with that. At some point you just want to hold them in your arms, and it doesn't really matter how they arrive.

New Guys in Town

Frank and his bandaged buddy showed up the other day. They are the newest residents of my office windowsill Halloween community that remains unnamed. I was considering Halloweentown but realized that's from The Nightmare Before Christmas. And Nightvale is from, well, Welcome to Nightvale. I'll think of something. 

Smells Pretty in Here

The hoya in the dining room window is at it again. With three other spurs forming buds there should be blossoms for the next month or so. 

Prescience

Public Service Announcement

They're very close to the same color. Both are delicious with lime. I can drink the entire bottle of one of these and I'll be fine. Drinking the entire bottle of the other would be a very bad idea. At least in one sitting it would be. Think I'll stick to the one that's uncorked. Let's just go with the round bottle is safe to finish tonight, the squarish one isn't. And that's how you celebrate Cinco de Mayo responsibly.  

Music to Clean By

Well, to do anything by, really. One thing you can't do when these two excellent horn bands take the stage is sit. At least I can't! So finding my house in desperate need of a full-scale cleaning I thought, what would inspire me to dance around and dust at the same time? Perhaps some music? I saw this concert video recommended by a musical friend so I pulled it up on the ole smart tv and grabbed the swiffer and the windex and the vacuum. Exercise. Entertainment. Poof! Magically the house is clean! So even if you don't need a pleasant, funky, and upbeat background to work by, have a dance party instead. Even if it's all by yourself. 

Curse of the Sapiosexual

It's about the music, she thought. It was always about the music. He played the music that she loved. The Beatles, Steely Dan, Earth Wind & Fire, Radiohead, Stevie Wonder, Hall & Oates, Lyle Lovett, Leonard Cohen, Ray Charles. Always expertly with his own distinctive twist. She never found him particularly attractive but she did enjoy talking with him. His intelligence came through on subjects just a bit foreign to her. It was challenging. It drew her to him. But mostly it was fun. His brown eyes sparkled with merriment when he was about to engage her in some verbal repartee that he knew she would respond to in a way that would ramp up the energy in the room. She was pondering over what he meant to her while she sipped the pinot grigio and minded the sauce that was thickening to perfection on the stove. Thinking that she would love to feed him sometime. Something that she had prepared with him in mind. Something that would engage him in a way that made her irresistible to him. And wondered if she would ever have the chance. For now, the music would have to do.

A Little Bit of Lovely

This little joy-spreading bit of art magically appeared on my front door yesterday afternoon. I don't know who it's from but I do love the sentiment.  Funny how crayon scribbles applied to paper can boost your mood. Thank you, little budding artist! Your work now hangs on the refrigerator.  

Happy Beltane!

Bringing light back into the world as the cosmic female and male unite while the ritual bonfire burns. Get a little crazy. Get your Celtic on. Celebrate how you choose. Safely and with love.