What it used to look like

Pagoda, you’ve fallen to pieces, safely tucked out of harms way until needed once again.  How you look, without your roses to guard.

How I remember you weeping cherry.

Cherry, where art thou, my snow draped cherry?

Oh, that’s right.

Timber!  Down you went while the deck was torn down.
You didn’t go alone.  A hemlock, a fir, a pine tree, three juniper bushes with limbs as big as my arms.  Two roses, as well.

The nursery tank cinder blocks went down one by one.  Knocking off dirt, frozen bits and pieces while Girrl wagoned them to their temporary home.  No longer needed, no longer loved.  I tried to save you from Retro-Man’s plan.  But never fear, you did find a home, not behind the house, near the garage.  You’ve been put back into service– as a nursery tank somewhere else.

The sitting rock, the bird seed rock sits where last placed. I wanted Girrl to move it to the new spot.  She gave me a look.  I know that look.  It’ll take a backhoe to move it.  Again.  Should of called it Rock That Moves Often.

You look lonely without your cherry tree guarding you, the bare branches whispering to you of what later spring will look like. What plans she has for you.

I think she sold you a fairy tale.  You’re moving again, bucko, to the power pole and the pile of rocks found while digging the damn trench.

Up came the paving stones.  Poor bubbling pot, how abused you look. No bubbling sounds from you since Two-Toes kept stealing the pipe that made you bubble.  It didn’t help that he also chewed the hoses into easy to carry lengths.  Now you wait for the damn backhoe to hoist you out of the hole we stuffed you into.  Easier in, than out.

How many peanuts did that damn squirrel hide inside?

Pier blocks are organized.  Paving stones and granite too.   Ho- Ti gazes at you, he’s been moved to staging area too.   The Japanese running grass he used to hide amongst is gone, like the delicate wrought iron edging.  No wait, that survived, it’s just lumped next to…what is that?  Do I really want to know?

I don’t think so.

As much as it’s gone, as much as I stare at the gardening catalogs piled on my desk, I wait.

And wait.

Blink. Blink.

Where’s the big equipment making more mess in my yard?

Spring draws near.  The singing of birds, the irises pushing their young greens up towards a sun still deciding if it wasts to shine or play hide and seek behind clouds of grey.

Trees think of budding.  The ground is warming.  The pests of spring are awakening while cats/kittens seek the sunbeams shining onto wooden floors.

It’s a new year.  A slow start.  The swirling of things to do, decide, to be, enjoy, leave behind and yet look forward to.

Of destroying and reshaping. Of building and reclaiming.   A reimagining of what it should be.  Or not be.

Now to get the damn pictures off the camera that show the mess in the front yard, the stump of the fallen weeping cherry (sob, so sad to see you fall) and the huge rock that needs to move yet again.  I think I’ll get Girrl out there to push it around.   Blink.  Blink.  That’s not moving no matter how much she tries.

Backhoe!  STAT!

But to soothe the frazzled nerves, calm the panic of a yard gone to dirt/mud/chaos.

Cookies.

Be still my heart.  The cooking bug is back and it’s demanding.  Pushy damn thing.

Oatmeal Cookies

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup light brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
3 cups quick cook oats
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup of coconut

Cream together the butter, the sugars.  Add eggs, stir until combined.  Add vanilla.
Add flour, baking soda, salt mixing it all together.  Add oats, pray wooden spoon doesn’t break.  Mix.  Add chocolate chips and coconut.  Stir until all ingredients are combined, arm tired.

Oven 325 degrees

Use spoons to drop dough onto greased baking sheet.

Suggested cooking time is 12 minutes.    For cookies the size I made them, more like 18 to 19.

Cool on sheet, remove to wire racks to finish cooling.  Swat Girrl and Retro-Man away from cookies like flies at a picnic.

Enjoy.

Variations in the works:  dried cranberries and almonds in place of chocolate chips.

My hips will never be the same.

Once again a naughty kitten dancing outside in the dark without permission.

Oh what a bad girl is the lovely Lolly.

Chilly cold and silent outside while she hunts things only she can see.

Come closer little kitten.

Closer.

Drat, off she goes again.

Will this drama ever end?

Mew! Mew! Mew!

I hear you at the back door, crying as if your world is ending.  Ah, poor baby.  Please come in
and warm your widdle paws.

Rethink dashing outside when it’s cold. It’s dark. And you’re out there alone.

Next time, there might not be a thumb so handy to open that door.

While the kids were young, I spent quite a bit of time in the laundry room rescuing (attempting to rescure?) clothing and other things handled by two loving to live, school age kids.

This laundry was well, functional, and a bit drab in the decorating department.  White wall, white appliances,  dull garbage can.

This also meant tons of homework, art and projects that didn’t fit on the fridge.

Enter push pins, artwork, and the laundry room.   My new art gallery featuring the work of Boy and Girrl.

As they grew, the art changed, evolved, matured and diminished.

Now I get my fix of artwork from Boy in the interwebs and see Girrl’s work live at her concerts.

The laundry room art gallery is looking a bit tired.  Some artwork didn’t survive the daily/weekly walk past or the antics of kittens jumping to pull off a cut out cat tail blowing from the vent.

It’s time to salvage the work, take it down, and secure it away to share with their kids whenever that might be.

But this leaves me once again with a rather dull laundry room.  Somehow I don’t think I can talk Retro Man into putting a high definition TV in there.

Driving along the road, taking Girrl to school, see the moon, the fog, the beauty of it all.

Hearing tubas and euphoniums play Sleigh Ride.

Hearing My Girl, a capella, and realizing Boy can really sing.

Salvation is Created, done purely with trombones.

Feeling the goosebumps bump/pound/resonate while the Percussion Ensemble does Mas Fuerte only to to have the chills/goosebumps when they start Skating (6 vibes, 1 drum and ton of memories of Charlie Brown).

What gives you goosebumps?

At least for a blog.

I dance around it. Stare at and then off I go to find trouble elsewhere.

And do I find trouble.

Painting.

Building.

Decorating.

Arranging.Gazing at chickens and the empty egg boxes.

Playing with a new camera.

Diggy-doo at the backdoor wanting, no needing my thumb. And my messy floor thanks to those messy paws.

Now if only they’d quit destroying the mats in front of the door.

Or learn to wipe their paws.

And this handsome fellow, Sebastian, he’s keeping an eye on me in case…

What exactly in case of?  Moving string lure?  New toys waiting to be tossed out for playtime?

A lap.  A snuggle.  A shared purr with unconditional love.  Now if he could only get his sister, Lolly, to do that.  And to think not too long ago he was a Jellybean kitten.  How time flies.  How they grow

The New Queen B…busy girl.  My shadow.  The one that makes certain aliens are not arriving, taking her treats or stealing something she deems necessary for her sanity. Or maybe she’s just eyeballing Diggy-doo and his treat waiting for that perfect moment to borrow permanently.

Always on the go.  Always ready to just be.  Or on my desk looking for frosted mini wheats.

Her size might be small but her heart is immense.

And Mr. Bashful, Tuck, Mr. Taco, too bashful to have his picture taken. Or perhaps he was eyeballing a treat left unattended.

The calm one in a house of wild.  Missing his Boy while trying to adjust to kittens that want his tail.  While he’s sleeping.

Blasphemy!

Next up: the tree, the Jellybeans, the destruction.  Before, during and after.

I can only imagine where my sanity will be hiding.

What are you plans for the week?

it still puts a smile on my face….

Click here to view the embedded video.

But there’s more.

While watching again, a link appeared near the end.  Curiosity drove me to check it out.

Why not check out their response to their fabulous wedding entrance?

Other news from the coop:
Survived painting with only a quarter gallon of paint on the body, the floor, the cat, the bed and
the Girl.  She’s pleased with the color and yes, there are pictures as soon as I recover from bent
neck-itis. 

Any weekend plans in your coop?  Hardwood floor times ahead.  I think I might need a drink.

Oh yeah.

Happy Friday!

again, or is that still, I think I’ll paint Girl’s bedroom.

Yes painting fever has launched it’s fiendly paws into my restlessness and it’s on.

Well, it will be once Girl gets a few things down in her room and off the bare floor.

Yes, bare flooring.

After paint, hardwood flooring for her.

It’s a sickness, I say.  Just like hens.

Also up,  30 days of   (blank) ( think that’s what I read, damn momshiemers) will be starting on
08-01-09.

I might actually be more excited about that idea than painting.

Odd.

What’s up in your coop lately?  Redecorating or just enjoying a nice summer day?

I know I’ve been remiss in not posting but…..end of school year, Boy graduating, having a birthday and just omg, it’s time to do a serious spring cleanign hit all at once.

By the time I sat down to write something up, not a thought flowed other than Zzzzzz.

What’s been happening around the coop?  Girl being chicken wrangler extreme.   The new chicks (not called breakfast, lunch, and dinner) decided to take a walkabout in the back yard.  Two-toes could not care less about chicks walking around but Alien Love Child was ready to leap from my arms and have herself a feather or more.

Girl dashed out after realizing when I said babies were out did not mean the Trio of Trouble kittens.

Around the tree goes girl chasing chicken babies.  Then around their temporary coop.  I had to laugh and only wished I’d had video of girl being outwitted, out played by three 2 month old chickens.  LMAO and then some.

Oh yeah, she’s slapping and pshawing me right now.  Some love from my child. Right?

There’s another story about chickens that I’ll share another day but the timer just went off and that means dinner needs to be finished or chaos will ensue.

Like me going nom nom nom since eating lunch was not on the to do list.  Talk about a messed up agenda today.

What’s happening in your local coop this week?

still.   Maybe after the wind up of end of school dance is done I’ll be back with a brain.  That’s’ if the god of Chaos will stop signing my dance card.

Until then…..