Just Call Her Ansel Adams

I have been remiss.

While in Atlanta, my baby girl spent some time practicing some photography skills.

I forgot to post some of her work.

Sorry, Buttercup!

I am so excited that Buttercup is excited about one of my hobbies.  When we have our difficult moments, we can always talk photography.  She's my go-to girl when I need some photos of me doing something stupid for the blog, of course.  But she has talent for real photos, too.

In our dining room, I have two walls covered with photos I've taken around the farm.  I replaced one of mine with one of hers, because hers was just plain better.

So, without further ado, here are some of Buttercup's Atlanta photos.

Great job, my dear!

Have a lovely day!

On the Cusp

My children are finally getting old enough to stay home alone.

The two oldest are even old enough to babysit the little ones.

Hubby and I actually went out on a dinner date on Friday.

I wore some kickin' shoes.

Not with those jeans, though.

You'd think life was perfect here on the farm.

And yet...

I didn't have time to paint my nails, let alone get a pedicure.

After the shoes were on, I simply painted the toes that showed.   Painted right over the chipping paint left over from the last time I wore peep-toe shoes.

Months ago.

Someday...

And please don't ask about that white stick thing in the photo.  I have no idea what it is.  Perhaps someday I'll get around to cleaning, too.

And tell me, what is it about having a blog that eradicates all sense of decorum and lets me feel that it is not only OK, but necessary, to put a picture of my ugly old lady toes on the internet for everyone to see?  Riddle me that, reader.

UPATE:  I am vacuuming.  The white thing is a tiny little white tube, cleary broken off of something.  From what it broke, I have no idea.

Have a lovely day!

Election Day Wrap-Up

Each time our family pulls out of the driveway, I send out a little alert/reminder about where we are going.

Yesterday was no different.

As we backed out, I said, "And we're off to the polls!"

Cuckoo immediately got excited about going swimming.

For the ten minutes it took to get to the library and our voting location, we endured a conversation all about when did they build a pool at the library? and you make pools with blue! and I like to go swimming but not with my head under.

After seeing the results, I wish more Democrats would have gone to the pools. 

That's all I have to say about that.

Now that the election is over and the winners have been dubbed, I would like to put a few more things to a vote. 

For example, what would your vote for "Most Garish, Unnecessary Graph Used to Give Voting Results" be?  I would have to say that lighting up the Empire State Building has to be in the running.  I'm going to go out on a limb and say that John Jakob Raskob did not have that use in mind when he came up with the idea to build the world's tallest building.

I'm thinking Florida would have a landslide win in the "State That Shouldn't Be Allowed to Vote" category.  We thought that the hanging chads fiasco would have jump-started them to get their act together, but we were wrong.  They were having trouble with people not signing their ballots.   I actually laughed when one analyst called them the long-standing problem child.

We don't even need to have a vote for "Most Impressive Procrastinators".  The folks waiting in line to register to vote on Election Day can run for that uncontested.   I want to ask them what happened yesterday that didn't happen in the last 18 months of political ads, speeches, fliers, calls, and polls to get them off the couch in order to get that errand done. 

And for "Graphics Team With Too Many People and/or Too Much Time" my vote goes to CNN's Election Night in America.  All night long I was shouting at them, "Too much!  Too much!"  The poll closing countdowns, the hypothetical models, the red-lighted "Ballot Cam", the balance of power graphics, the major projection song and dance.  Oh, and the innumerable touch screens.  Have mercy.  Really, CNN.  Have.  Mercy.  We get it.  You are technologically savvy.  You have cool toys.  You don't need to use them all at once. 

What about the best way for a reporter to let us know that everything they are about to say is completely made up and they are really just blowing smoke?  In the running:

"Less than five percent of votes have been counted, so let's not jump to conclusions, but ..."

"It's still early, and the polls haven't even closed yet, but..."

"These are just exit polls and don't necessarily reflect actual results."

I'd have a tough time deciding where to cast my vote on that one.

We have a last minute addition to our ballots. I wasn't expecting to have "Person Most in Need of Sending a Thank You Card to a Teacher" category. A reporter was beaming with pride when he said, "See these pencil marks? I don't have a calculator. I did the calculations by hand!" His fifth grade math teacher deserves some credit for that one. 

Fortunately, news shows don't tell the real story of our election process.  You know what does?  The long lines of people waiting to cast their votes.

Despite the long line in the chilly fall weather at our polling place, not one person was grumpy. Not one person seemed to mind the wait. People were passing the time playing games on their phones. Or chatting with their neighbors. There were smiles, not frowns.

In fact, it was very much like a line of people waiting to get on a roller coaster, except the tattoos and skimpy clothes were covered up by layers of warm clothing.

It wasn't anything like standing in line at the grocery store, where people huff, sigh, and complain.

Seeing the number of people who took their right to vote seriously, and didn't mind waiting in line to do so, made me proud of our country.

So I almost cried.

Because I'm a sap.

And those people in Virginia waiting for up to FOUR HOURS to vote.  They deserve the "Dedicated to Democracy" vote. 

Even if I don't like the way they voted.

OK, that's really all I have to say about that.

Have a lovely day!

Monday Listicles, Kinda

Today I am veering from my normal Monday Listicles, which is shocking, as I'm normally a good rule follower.  The topic this week is 10 Amazing Not So Distant Memories.   I have recent memories, but I can't say they're all amazing.  Some, I just need to get off my chest. 

1.  For example, I subbed in a preschool class last week.  I was in charge of helping each of the 21 kids do a craft, and I now have a new pet peeve.  Out of those 21 kids, I knew how to spell five.  And I am a pretty good speller.  Not a good ratio, my friends.  I completely understand unusual names that have special or cultural meaning.  We have Chin families at our school, and I have no problem with having to ask a child how to spell his name when his name is Bawi (pronounced boy).  But when a child is given a common, popular name, for the love please use the common, popular spelling.  Molleigh is just annoying.  And that child will have lots and lots of crafts in which her name is misspelled, then crossed out and spelled correctly for the rest of her crafting life.

2.  Let's talk time change.  What an unnecessary pain in the neck.  No mother of young children enjoys a time change.  Children's bodies are programmed, and those programs take a long time to change.  I do not appreciate the pitter-patter of little feet at 6:30 in the morning, when I usually don't hear it until 7:30.  Not cool.

3.  You know what's frustrating?  Listening to construction workers through a wall all day, and no one to enjoy the 20 times I so want to say, "That's what she said."  It never ends.  Hilarity wasted is so frustrating.

4.  You know what's not frustrating?  Having someone who you have been stalking for months and months, because you are just in awe of the choices she's made and the way she lives and the way she writes, actually take the time to come read your own blog and like the post and leave a comment saying so.  Go visit Becca and read through some of her posts.  Remarkable family.

Can't tell you how disconcerted I am that I get this excited over comments on my blog. 

And on to other things.

5.  Like soccer.  Soccer season still isn't over.  In years past it would be over by now, but for some reason each year it goes longer and longer.  To all coaches and soccer organizers, there is a reason soccer is supposed to be done by the end of October.  November is cold.  And miserable.  Sleet and wind are not exactly pleasant conditions for a soccer game.  Enough already! 

Poncho, trash bag, or death trap?  You decide.  Regardless, no 4 year old should have to endure it.

6.  This past weekend was one of those sleety, windy, cold, miserable November weekends, and two of the kids were in a soccer tournament.  At the start of the second half, Star was in the goal and looking a tad miserable.  To get his mind off of it before the game restarted, I yelled out to him, "There's my keeper!"  As expected, he totally tried to ignore me.  He just kept looking straight ahead, getting into his keeper stance, but I knew he heard me.  So, I yelled again, "I know you heard me and are trying not to smile.  That's OK.  Play hard out there!"  And that's when he grinned.  Gotcha.

Tweens are no fun.  After the game, I asked if he minded that I was yelling to him like that.  He replied, "It was funny, but don't do it again."  Lucky for him, that game was the end of his season.

7.  I have a new BFF.  She used to be Buttercup's BFF.  Now she's mine.  I stole her with my Instagram.  Remember I told you I started an account last week or so?  I have one follower.  A 12 year old girl.  And I love her for it.  She is also a long-time reader of the blog, so I know she is going to be thrilled to be getting her own little bullet point. 

8.  Here in the country, we don't have five o'clock traffic.  We have traffic, but just of a different variety.  And when you are running late for church, it is just as frustrating as rush hour on a Friday.  Yesterday, we were anxiously driving just a touch over the speed limit when this cut me off:

Apparently, in order to keep those tree limbs from sliding off the back of the truck and under my van, the truck driver thought that an annoying 10 mph below the speed limit was his limit.  And then, because God must have wanted to teach me a lesson about patience yesterday,  a mile up the road our little line got longer and even slower.

20 mph in a 55 mph speed zone, with an unending line of cars coming from the other direction to prevent me from passing.

We were late for church. 

9.  In other not-so-amazing-but-somewhat-frustrating-yet-funny news, I gave each of the big kids a small cleaning chore to do yesterday afternoon.  Giant got to vacuum the dining room.  Cuckoo chose to "help" with his little pretend vacuum.  When the room was done, Cuckoo came running to me to say, "The whole house needs bacuumed!  I'm goin to bacuum de whole house!"  I told him to go for it, until I saw how he bacuums.  While I am thrilled that he has learned to vacuum under and behind furniture, I'm frustrated that he thinks he is to get everything out from under the furniture and throw it around the room he is vacuuming. 

Dude, that vacuum doesn't actually suck anything up, so quit unearthing my well-hidden stash of clutter in order to vacuum.

10.  And lastly, I leave you with a clip.  Last week, as Hubby and I were watching for news of the Frankenstorm, we stumbled upon NYC's Mayor Bloomberg giving a speech to alert the city of what they should be doing.  I didn't hear a single word that he said, as I was too distracted by his ASL interpreter.  I honestly asked Hubby if we were watching Saturday Night Live by mistake.  Take a look by clicking here.

It's the first time I've ever been in the know about something before it goes viral.  After that update, debates have been raging.   Some people laughing, others getting offended.  I have to admit that I was in the laughing category.   This woman was supposed to be translating important information about a major storm bearing down on the city.  If everyone, including those who don't know a lick of sign language, are watching her instead of listening to the mayor, his message isn't being heard.  Should ASL interpreters show emotion?  Of course.  But the emotion should be appropriate to the situation.  Dry was appropriate for the situation.  Her emotion was far from dry. 

So I laughed.  Because it was funny.

And there you have my 10 Not So Amazing Memories From the Not So Distant Past.

Go check out some other lists to actually read amazing memories.  Perhaps Ducky's, the person who came up with this week's topic in the first place?

Have a lovely day!

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ideas!

Now that Halloween is over, we can start talking Christmas. 

Over the last seven years, (since we moved to the farm) our family's Christmas card has become quite the big deal.  Each year I send out an obnoxious four page letter to 80 friends and family around the country.  I have never bragged about our children, nor told of the fun things we've done.  Instead, we completely make fun of ourselves and the situations in which we have found ourselves.   I have a cousin who refuses to talk to me at Thanksgiving because she doesn't want to ruin the fun of reading our Christmas card.  I am told over and over that families gather around the table while one person reads the letter out loud.  Just this past Thursday, I surprised an old friend that I haven't set eyes on in 10 years, and the first thing she said to me was, "Oh, the girls and I get so excited on the day that your Christmas card gets here!"  Hubby's aunt once told me that she was at a funeral with a friend.  They came back to the house and were thrilled to find our Christmas card in the mail.  She told me that they sat down, read it, laughed, cried, and felt so much better.

I can't tell you how much pressure I now feel to get this card out and to make it funny each and every year, and it is time to start getting this year's card put together.

Each year the card has a different theme.  One year it was an encycopedia, another we sent out a quiz.  I've done a mock journal, and I've done a list of our family's ten commandments.  A favorite was the year that Turken was born.  We let everyone know of our ridiculousness by sending a petition of emancipation, giving reasons and photo exhibits, of why Turken should be taken from us and given to another family, all written in the voice of Turken.

I'm having some trouble coming up with the theme for this year.  I've got plenty of material, and I'm sure the pig drowning will be a highlight, but I don't know which form to put it in.  If you have any ideas, please let me know.

To help you get an idea of what we do, here is the letter we sent out the year Cuckoo was born.  It's long.  Remember, I told you it was an obnoxios four page letter.  And I have changed our names to our blog names.  In the real letter, our signatures included our first and last names.

************************

Dear family and friends,

It has been a busy fall for us. Between the new baby, a toddler, and four, active school-age kids, we are swamped. Unfortunately, we haven't had the time or energy to come up with a clever Christmas letter this year. Instead, we decided to simply send out copies of correspondence (and a prayer) we've sent throughout the year. We're hoping you get an idea of what we've been up to!

********************************************

Dear Physical Therapist,

Thank you so much for your help in fixing Hubby's finger. It has been a long three months for him. You don't realize how much the ring finger is used until your husband can't use his ring finger. The poor guy couldn't do dishes, bathe the baby, or scrub the kitchen floor. He even had to get voice-activated software at work since he couldn't type.

We had no idea that taking your socks off could be so dangerous. Do you have any suggestions on stretching and warm-up routines the whole family could use to avoid this happening to one of us again? If Hubby can tear a tendon apart simply taking a sock off his foot, what danger are we putting Buttercup in by having her brush her hair? Or having Giant get dressed on his own? We appreciate any help you can give us.

Sincerely,

Mom "I have a wimp for a husband" Of the Coop

 

******************************************

Dear Large Animal Vet,

You must be very busy, seeing how you haven't returned our call yet. We have a situation here, and we need some information and help.

I went out to feed the pigs the other day, and one of the pigs was dead in the barn. It seemed perfectly healthy when I was out there this morning. What could have caused this? Should we worry about our three other hogs? Also, how do we dispose of a hundred pound pig?

Lastly, should we be worried about the health of our children? Kids at school are avoiding our daughter, worried they will get swine flu from her. Do you have any pamphlets on this?

Sincerely,

Mom "I'm not really a farmer" Of the Coop

*******************************************

Dear Large Animal Vet,

Disregard the question about disposing of a dead pig. I've taken care of it.

Sincerely,

Dad "My back is killing me" Of the Coop

 

*****************************************************

 

Dear Septic Guy #1,

Thank you for coming out to take a look at our yard.   We are very sorry you couldn't actually find the septic tank. We do appreciate your offer of not telling the health department about our situation and letting us get away with not fixing it. We are, however, going to try to get this resolved. In the meantime, we will look into the product you suggested to keep the smell down.

Sincerely,

Mom "We'll be using the outhouse soon" Of the Coop

 

***************************************

Dear Septic Guy #2,

We are so glad you were able to find our septic tank. Who knew we had an illegal system from the 1930's? Now, if you would be so kind as to get the new one in as fast as possible. Three months of raw sewage in the back yard doesn't sound like long to some people, but it's starting to cause problems here. The dogs seem to have taken a liking to the area. Plus, I'm having a hard time getting the children outside to do their chores, which requires them to walk around the area. It's becoming quite smelly, as you can imagine. Your prompt use of the backhoe you left in our yard would really be appreciated.

Sincerely,

Mom "Don't like poo in my shoe" Of the Coop

 

*****************************************

 

Dear Book Author/Parenting Expert,

Thank you so much for all of your wonderful advice on how to raise responsible children. It doesn't just help the kids, but as parents, we become better, too.

I recently had a chance to show our children how to "take responsibility for your actions" when our dog jumped the fence and killed our neighbor's goats. First, I got to meet the nice people at Animal Control and make a sizable donation. They were quite pleasant, even saying what a nice dog we had, before handing me a ticket and a court date.

I then got the chance to meet one of our neighbors. I "took responsibility" again when I stood there to let her tell me about the entire incident, as she was home and watched the whole thing. Tears were involved. She even had pictures to show me. I learned that these weren't just any goats, but pets they had raised on a bottle.  Another check was written to cover the costs of the goats. (I thought it was in everyone's best interest not to tell her that my husband is now experienced in disposing of farm animals. Was that the right thing to do?)

Sincerely,

Mom "Take your advice and shove it" Of the Coop

 

**********************************************

 

Dear Coach,

Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to try my hand at being a goalie. It seems, though, that you have forgotten me out here. Do you have any plans for me to actually PLAY soccer? Just curious.

Sincerely,

Phoenix "Don't make me do something drastic" Of the Coop

 **********************************

Dear Chicken Breeder,

Once again, we would like to order 25 day-old chicks. We know it is an actual Dirty Job to discern, but could you please be sure to send us 25 hens this time. With each past order, we have received at least one rooster, and this really causes problems at our house. Our children are nervous enough about a flock of chickens, but put a rooster in, and they refuse to go into the coop. We have had some bad experiences with aggressive birds, and we'd like to have a bit of a break.

Also, we would appreciate it if you sent us smart chickens this time. We have lost way too many birds because they aren't quite bright enough to stay out of the dogs' reach.

Lastly, is it possible to breed chickens that have a natural coyote repellant?

Sincerely,

Mom "My dogs eat more chicken than I do" Of the Coop

 

*****************************************************

Dear God,

Thank you so much for our healthy baby. Cuckoo is an adorable, wonderful baby. Just one question: What am I supposed to do with FIVE boys?

Sincerely,

Dad "Our daughter is going to be spoiled rotten" Of the Coop

 

*********************************************

Dear Airport Shuttle Company,

Thank you so much for taking such good care of your vans. We really didn't want to spend good money on a brand-new Ford. Luckily for us, you only use them for a year before getting rid of them. Our children are enjoying the extra room it provides.

Sincerely,

Mom "My minivan now feels like a sports car" Of the Coop

 

*********************************************

Dear Neighbor,

I just wanted to let you know that I am doing fine. I understand that you were quite upset at the time and may not have noticed that I am 8 months pregnant. An accident like this could have sent me to the hospital.

I am very sorry for hitting your dog. I was watching the other three and didn't notice the one coming from the other side of the street. I have to admit, my first thought was, "Please don't belong to the family with the goats." When I saw it was yours, I just felt bad. When I saw your teenage daughter sobbing in the front yard, I really felt bad. Even my daughter felt bad.

Just know that I don't blame you. I know that it can be difficult to keep a dog in the yard.

Sincerely,

Mom "Does anyone in Bargersville like me?" Of the Coop

 

************************************************

Dear Miss Manners,

I am a one-and-a-half year old boy with four older siblings. I must attend all of their games and many practices, which normally I wouldn't mind. However, there are girls at every game and practice that won't leave me alone. They try to hold me, tease me with snacks I'm not allowed to eat, dress me in uncomfortable things, and in general just irritate me to no end. Is there a way to tactfully get them to stop? Screaming and running to my mom hasn't deterred them much at all.

Sincerely,

Turken "Adorable can be a burden" Of the Coop

 

***********************************************

 

Dear Dad,

Thank you for trying to come up with fun activities for us. We really do like playing outside around the farm. But from now on, PLEASE only build fires when it is light out and we can see what is going on around us. It's hard to defend oneself from attack when you can't see the attacker. Should I stomp on red ants or wave away bees? In the end, I guess running would have been the best option. Too bad I can't run AFTER being stung in the leg.

Sincerely,

Giant "Ouch" of the Coop

************************************************

Dear Playground Designer,

Thank you so much for putting in the time to create lovely playgrounds. I just ask that you put a bit more time in designing the slides. Children do not always think before they do things, and we are getting hurt. For example, a row of rollers to slide down seems like fun. When a child tries to run up them, the slide quickly becomes a dangerous situation. A split, bloody lip is no one's idea of fun.

Sincerely,

Buttercup "I will never listen to Phoenix again" Of the Coop

 

***********************************************

Dear Human Family,

Thank you so much for leaving out so many things for me to chew on. These baby teeth are really bothersome, and it is nice to have a variety of things to choose from. From the hats, to the balls, to the helmets, to the shoes, to the hoses, to baseball mitts, to the milk cartons, to the door mats, to the window screens, to the buckets, to the leashes, to the downspouts, to the swings, to the boxes, I have been well taken care of.

I am especially grateful that you didn't lock the door so it could open during a storm while you were out of town. Not only were Roy and I able to stay warm and dry, but I had a plethora of new things to sink my teeth into.

Sincerely,

Hershey "My dog days are numbered" Of the Coop

 

************************************************

Dear Exterminator,

Thank you so much for helping us with the spider problem a few years ago. We hardly see spiders much anymore.

I am wondering if the things we are experiencing are normal "country living" or if there is another reason as to why we can't have things in moderation. A few birds are easy to live with. A hundred birds in the coop and nesting all over the house is another issue. An occasional bat in the house is expected, but several in one week (one of which I woke up to flying over my head at three in the morning) is painful. We used to think lady bugs were cute. When there are hundreds of them coming into your house to die every single day, not so much.

We would appreciate any help you could give us in getting rid of these pests.

Sincerely,

Mom "I think God wants me to let something of His go" Of the Coop

 

**************************************************

Dear Friends and Family,

I have no interest in being in this Christmas card. Please do not encourage the rest of my family.

Sincerely,

Star "What's wrong with a simple Merry Christmas" Of the Coop

 

**************************************************

If you have managed to get through this letter, hopefully you have an idea for this year's letter.  If I use your idea in our card, I'll be sure to give you the credit!

Have a lovely day!

Kitchen Update Numero Uno

Nothing makes you feel like you are going to wet your pants more than knowing that there is no bathroom for you to use.  Such is my life all stinkin' day.  Today is the day that the plumbers and electricians are here, along with the normal crew of two, to get the old pipes and wires out and install/move the new ones.  Really wish it could have been done yesterday while I was at work and a variety of other places that had working restrooms.

It is Day 5 of the big kitchen redo.  So far, it hasn't been all that bad.  Sure, my temporary kitchen looks like this:

but we're managing just fine.

Meals:

The kids have survived on milk, fruit, and cereal or bagels for breakfast each morning.  I only have one hard-boiled egg left, so I'm going to be trying out the burner on the grill this weekend.  In the five years we've had this grill, we have never used it.  Hope I don't blow us up.

The big kids buy lunch at school every day, as I've found the $2.50/day is cheaper than if they were to pack.  Plus, it means they get a good variety, unlike the little boys, who eat PB&J most days of their lives. 

Dinners have been fine.  Grilled burgers Monday and white chili in the crockpot Tuesday with chicken I had cooked before the stove went away.   Wednesday, Meijer had individual frozen dinners on sale, so I let the kids each pick one for dinner.   Downside of that is that each dinner takes 8-10 minutes in the microwave, so we didn't all get to eat together.  Last night we went out, as Phoenix had soccer an hour away from home, and tonight it is chicken quesadillas, pineapple, a salad, and Halloween candy.

No one is starving, and everyone is happy to not to have to deal with dirty dishes.

I am unhappy about the amount of waste we are creating with all of the paper products we're going through.

The kitchen:

If you haven't seen what our kitchen looked like before, go here for a tour.

At the end of Day 1, it looked like this:

Buttercup is standing right where I used to spend 50% of my day, right next to the stove and sink.  The rubble is what is left of the wall that used to be there.  To take the photo, I stood in the old 1800's kitchen.  Back then there was a porch and yard between the house and kitchen, but when the "modern" kitchen was added to the house, they used the porch area.  The modern kitchen and the 1800s kitchen shared a wall, but we couldn't get into the 1800s kitchen without going outside. 

The 1800's kitchen will now become our mudroom, while the "modern" kitchen will remain about the same size.

Day 2, more major demo, but some rebuilding as well.

I was a touch surprised to see that I no longer had an outside wall in my kitchen.  This is where the window over the sink used to be.  We moved it over a bit to give more room to the cramped corner, so off with the wall! 

This is how the room looked this morning:

Starting from the left, the door used to be a window.  Between the now-door and the new window here on the right, two doors have been removed and changed into walls.  The wall between the kitchen and mud room is going up about two feet from the new door and is getting framed today. 

This is where (left to right) the small, broken pantry, the fridge, and the window to nowhere used to be.  They will be turned into a much bigger pantry and a "message center", both with working doors to hide any and all disorganization when company comes.

Problems we've encountered:

The floor of the 1800's kitchen was slanted just a touch, if you consider 3 1/2 inches from one wall to the other "just a touch".  The floor had to be ripped out in order to even everything out.

The ceiling of the 1800's kitchen was a few inches shorter than the ceiling of the "modern" kitchen.  The modern kitchen ceiling had to be dropped, and my transom cabinets had to go from 15 inches to 12.  I think.  Something like that.  Just so I don't have an open area above the cabinets, I'm happy. 

Getting to know each other:

One of the demo guys was eating and working at the same time.  He put down his sandwich for a minute, and when he went back, he found Roy the Wonder Dog had eaten it.

Someone hurt himself this morning.  I don't know who, as there is an impenetrable, murky barrier between us and the kitchen.  I just know there was some ouching and grunting, and some "Are you OK?s coming from behind the barrier.  I didn't see anyone race to the hospital, so we should be good.

Work begins at 7:30 each morning, and most days I am showered and dressed before they arrive.  I worked Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday this week, so I needed to be.  On Monday I learned that it's just a bit creepy to take a shower directly above the room where strangers are working.  I made that mistake Monday, but not today!  I showered nice and early then put my PJs and robe right back on. 

While the guys work, they have a radio playing.   Luckily, I like their taste in music.  And I like that I can frequently hear them singing along with the radio.  And even more, I like that they cannot carry a tune.  It means they won't be judging me when I bust it out with them. 

They work together on projects much better than Hubby and I do.  While I have heard an occasional, "I need another 1/2 inch.  Give me a half an inch!"  I haven't heard anyone yelling at each other to, "Stop talking!  I don't see you over here on the ladder trying to fix this!"  I also haven't heard any cussing.  There is almost always cussing when Hubby and I do home improvement projects together.

I am hoping that these guys never meet Hubby.  They may end up talking and telling Hubby just how much time I waste on the computer during the day.

Homework I have:

Pick out the kitchen sink, faucet, lights for above the island, and the cabinet/sink for the mudroom.

Considering the age of this house, and the number of things we find wrong each and every time we undertake some renovations, I am thrilled with the progress.  I don't know what the agenda is exactly, but I have been told that the drywallers will be here on Thursday.

I'm off to see just how bad the old outhouse behind the chicken coop is.  I can't hold it much longer!

Have a lovely day!

The Day the Ghosts Left Me Stranded

(This is a continuation from yesterday's post about the haunted bar.  It happened over a year ago.  in my head I thought I made it clear.  In reality, some people thought it happened yesterday.  Sorry for the confusion!)
You would think that an evening of ghost stories would be enough excitement for one night.  I thought it was.  Unfortunately, other folks thought I needed some more.

When our book club meeting was over, we all went out to our cars  My car was at the end of the line, along the street, in the dark, next to the graveyard I told you about yesterday.  When I got to my car I found:

TWO OF MY TIRES WERE GONE!!!  NO BOLTS!!! NO NOTHING!!! 


The thoughts that went through my head, in this order, are:

1.  Is this really happening?
2.  Are the thieves still nearby?
3.  Is this just the mean ghost "making himself known"?
4.  Hubby is going to be soooo very mad.
5.  This is NOT a safe bar.
6.  How am I going to get home????

That last thought sent me straight into the street.  The last of our merry band of book clubbers was pulling out, unaware of the circumstances.  What did I do?  In the dark, completely out of nowhere, I jumped in front of her car.  Nearly got myself run over.  Fortunately, she had a newer car with good brakes and avoided flattening me.  While my body was sprawled across her hood, my feet were still (mostly) planted on the ground.

Then my next thought was, "What am I supposed to do now???"

I love my friend.  She is a feisty New Yorker, and she got mad.  Her little rage at the night calmed me down, made me smile, and cleared my head.  I was able to actually do something productive.

First things first.  I went back into the bar and let those owners know that they really needed to stop saying that their bar was safe.  They didn't believe me when I told them what happened, and so they marched up the street to see for themselves that, in fact, I had two tires stolen.  They were flabbergasted.  Then one of them actually got into his car to go drive off and try to find the perpetrators.  Good luck with that, man.

Next, I called the police.  This is where I wasted several minutes debating in my mind how exactly to do that.  As the daughter of a policeman, I am fully aware that 911 is to be reserved for emergency situations.  The lines need to stay clear for people who actually have an emergency.  I was safe, relatively speaking, and was not in any immediate danger, so I didn't think that 911 was appropriate.  However, no one knows how to call the police anymore.  The days of people having land lines and emergency numbers by the phone are long gone.  No one even has a phone book anymore, so I made my first-ever call to 911.

Operator: "911, what is your emergency?"

Me:  voice shaking My tires were stolen.

O:  Can you repeat that please?

Me:  a bit flustered I came out to my car and my tires are gone.

O:  Where are you?

Me:  pause  Um... a bar. pause  Oh yeah, The Gas Light Inn.

O:  And where is that?

Me:  Uh, hold on.  shout Where are we??  What road is this??  back to normal voice Meridian St.

O:  And what is the nearest cross street?

Me:  shouting What's the cross street?

O:  I'll send a cruiser as soon as one is available.

We waited a long time for that cruiser.  I am assuming that the operator told the policeman to take his time to give the floozy at the bar some time to sober up.  (I had only had Sprite to drink, and I ain't no floozy, but even to my ears, I certainly sounded like one on the phone.)

The cruiser finally pulled up, and out came a man/boy who barely looked old enough to drive, let alone chase bad guys.  He was quite the observant pup.  Took one look at my car and said, "You're missing some tires, ma'am."

He took my report, then asked what I wanted to do with the car.

"Get my tires back, but since that is out of the question, I guess I need a tow truck."

I don't know about you, but I don't have the number of a tow truck memorized, so the policeman called the company that they normally use. 

I thought the wait for the cruiser was a long one.

We stood on the sidewalk between my car and the graveyard for what seemed to be an eternity.  Fortunately, I was with my book club friend who is forever entertaining, mostly because she is forever inappropriate.

She saw this situation as the perfect opportunity to grill the policeman/boy and find out once and for all how illegal she could be without getting arrested.  First question:  "What do you think about legalizing marijuana?"  Second question:  "Would you arrest someone who you found to be just smoking it?"  Third question:  "What if you found that it was in my brownies?  Would you arrest me?"

She then moved on to forcing the policeman/boy to choose between her boyfriend and his policeman colleagues.  "My boyfriend wasn't even speeding, and some moron pulled him over.  With a ticket, he won't be able to get the job he was applying for.  How can he get out of a speeding ticket?  Does he just need to show up in court and tell his side?"  The poor guy jumped on the fact that it was a sheriff that gave her boyfriend the ticket.  He threw the guy under the bus to save his own skin and said, "Oh, you'll never get out of a ticket from a sheriff.  Those guys are just mean."

Finally, the tow truck arrived, and out climbed a boy younger than the policeman/boy.  First words out of his mouth, "You're missing a couple of tires there, ma'am."

It would seem from these two young bucks that the next generation is severly lacking in joke-telling skills.  And they really needed to stop calling me "ma'am". 

So, the "expert" tow truck driver is here, and we should all be ready to roll, right?  Except how is one to tow a car that is missing both tires on one side?  Riddle me that, tow truck man.

This is when his inexperience came flooding out.

His solution: drag the car up the ramp of the truck.  Yes, the bottom of the car would be ruined, but hopefully it can be fixed.  And besides, he doesn't know how else to do it.

Thankfully, we sober old ladies have two heads on our shoulders.

"We aren't experts or anything, but can't we move some tires around in order to get the car up there?"

In the end, we put my spare on the front and my friend's spare on the back.  We had to borrow bolts from the intact tires on the other side of the car in order to hold the spares on.  It was all quite a bit wobbly going up that ramp, but up the ramp it went without any more damage being done.

Three hours after we left the bar, I finally got to go home.  My dear inappropriate friend, who stayed and kept me company and made me laugh, took me all the way home, 40 minutes round trip out of her way.  I so adore her.

But the story isn't over, my friends.

Oh no.

I had the car towed to the dealership, since we were going to need a whole lot more than just new tires.  I had to call our insurance agent in the morning to figure out the details.  No big deal, except that our insurance agent is the deacon at our church.

I had to explain to OUR DEACON how I managed to find myself in a shady part of town, at a dive of a bar, without my husband but with a minor criminal, in the middle of the night, with no tires on my car.

"See Deacon, there are these ghosts..."

Have a lovely day!