Jaci Dawn

Was it a perfect day? Not really: I didn’t have the gumption to do everything I wanted to do and the sun set far too soon. Summertime should mean sunsets after 10, but we didn’t have much “summer” weather before the equinox and the sun is setting too early. My son in law even complained as he loaded up the babies tonight: the sun had already set by 9:00.

It was, however, a perfect day. Two of my five grandsons came to visit. It was unplanned and I had to set aside some of my plans to babysit, but it was a welcome distraction. I even saved some yard work for the grandboys.

We spread hazelnut mulch in Grandma’s garden. Two year old Javan doesn’t begin to understand the concept and picks up the hazelnut shells already in the flower beds and moves them to another spot. Three year old Zephan made hills out of the hazelnut shells. Grandma had to pick shells up out of the lawn several times. But it was oh-so-much-fun.

Zephan is so bossy. He’s like a movie director. “Let’s go watch cartoons.”

“What does Javan want to do?”

“Watch cartoons.” (Javan is oblivious to the conversation, pouring water from the dog pool onto the apple trees. I think he had no opinion whatsoever.)

We watched cartoons. We watched “Stuart Little: Call of the Wild” for the umpteenth time, finished watching Curious George and Toy Story 3 (for the umpteenth time also). We dined on macaroni and cheese, Ritz™ crackers (carckers), cheese slices and juice.

Harvey had to be tied up. Javan was in a sensitive mood and just seeing the big dog loose in the yard sent him into wailing. I totally relate. I understand. He isn’t really afraid of Harvey but he is intimidated by the size of the dog and the pure bulk of animal. And the bark. The bark sets his little Highly Sensitive Person system off.

Grandma understands. As a fellow HSP, I understand all too well.

Harvey is just a dog and can stay tied up when grandboys come to visit. Some day Javan will over come that fear. Until that time, I am not pushing it. I want to enjoy his little person-ness.

We watered grandma’s garden.

And we gave grandma tickles.

Grandma needed all of that time with little bossy people. Her grandsons remind her that life goes on, a different generation picks up the torch, and that she is loved by someone as a child. After all, who else is going to tell me to “Play, Gandma. Play wit me.”

Or “Tickle.”

Love you boys!!

This morning in our monthly staff meeting, the president of our company, Bert Waugh III, asked each of us to name one good thing that happened in the first six months of 2011. The question caught me off-guard.

One good thing? What raced through my mind (and set off a day of teetering on the edge) was the events of the past six months: a cancer scare that turned into a kidney stone and surgery, the loss of my nineteen-year old cousin in Wisconsin, the death of my father and the ensuing two weeks I spent in Nevada packing up his 83 years of life with my brother, the news that we have to do some imminent repairs to our house for insurance purposes, and the hassle we’re having with the bank and Dad’s Trust. Of course, good things have happened. Every one of those events spawned numerous good things.

I still have my sense of humor, for one thing. I don’t have cancer. I still have my brother.

But I’d really just like a 2011 “do-over.”

I said that I’d drawn closer to my God, and that is true. But it’s also lame and it opened me up for the rest of today’s events.

I no sooner sat down at my desk and got deeply involved in my work when the phone rang. My doctor’s number was on the caller ID. I groaned: I knew I was supposed to return his call but I was really, really busy. And it was just the results of the follow-up x-ray from the surgery to get rid of the blasted kidney stone.

But I answered it. I was in the middle of a math problem, but I figured I could listen to the good report and crunch numbers on the calculator at the same time.

Except it wasn’t all that good.

Did I just say I had drawn closer to God? Here came another wave (“This is a test” spoken in Bill Cosby’s voice):

That blasted kidney stone is smaller but it is still in my left kidney.

My doctor is embarrassed. This is not supposed to happen. I haven’t passed any stone fragments, I haven’t been bleeding, and except for the fact that I put my back out, I am not in any pain. Yeah, I put my back out. there is that.

The upshot of this is that I have to go back in for another x-ray but this time he wants it done by his technician. And then we have to decide what to do: another go at surgery? I’d best do that while I’m still feeling brave.

The downside is: I have used up my vacation time and all my sick time and I don’t even know where all the previous expenses are going to land in insurance land.

So here I was: trying to work, thinking about the mysteries of the human body and the composition of a 5mm kidney stone that is resistant to ultrasound blasting and missing my dad.

There’s more to this story. Boring details like hiring an attorney to push the Trust through probate court and needing to sign the papers in front of a Notary Public, finding an honest roofing contractor to remove the moss from our house, trying to avoid thinking about a second surgery…

AUGH.

I ended up crying all the way home after work. Stupid emotional stuff. Those of you who have walked this path of grief know from whence I speak: it hits you. They’re gone. Mom, Dad, little sister. You remember a laugh, the feel of their hands, the color of their hair. And you’re bawling.

I don’t want to be a negative whiney person. It does feel like it sometimes. But the emotion is still too raw. There have been a few too many burdens added to the load. And the pressure to name a good thing out of it all just sort of set it all off.

So here’s a list of good things:

I am thankful my employer is a positive person and is making me think about what good has come out of the last six months

I don’t have cancer. I know people who do. I have loved people who did not win that battle. I miss Ellen. Ellen was a joy to know and a good thing to have happened in my life. So were Trudi and Carolyn. I am thankful for the cancer survivors I know: Kari, Julie, Jodi, Angie (to name a few).

God is my Rock.

Harvey is my Buddy.

Summer finally arrived.

I don’t have Kaiser insurance.

I have good insurance.

I have a close circle of really good and dear friends, some in “real life”, some on the Internet, and some thousands of miles away – but all who are very real and very kind.

I got to watch Willy Wonka (with Gene Wilder) for the first time with my good friend, Mary, and her granddaughter, Joy.

And I have these guys to love:

Justin, Micah, Zephaniah, Javan and Eliran. My Grandboys.

Life is still good.

Busy day today. Right now I am listening to some bluegrass music and early fireworks. Every time something explodes, poor Murphy thinks he has to go catch the perpetrator! Harvey just curls up and hopes it will all go away – soon – but Murphy runs from one end of the house to the other, barking. He isn’t afraid of the fireworks but he does get all worked up.

Happy Fourth of July!

I spent the weekend doing exactly as I wanted. I worked on little art projects all weekend.

I made two little picket fences (four to go) and put up a “lens” on Squiddo with the “how-to” instructions (shameless self-promotion here).

I tackled the question of how to make “mushrooms” and how to make something similar to those daffodil tea cups from Willy Wonka.

I stripped the paint from the glass top of the outdoor magazine rack. I picked out the design for the new “stained glass” look. I didn’t get any further with this project. Look for that in a future post.

I spent $9 on new plants (see previous post), $9 on mushroom “caps” and $24 at GoodWill selecting my “flowers”, “stems” and mushroom “stems”.

I had a pot here at home to use as a mushroom cap, too, but neglected to get a photo of it.

I prepped everything by washing and removing all the sales tags. I removed old glue and wiped all the surfaces with acetone to ensure a good contact with the glue. Then I glued everything and waited to let it set.

In the case of the glass “bell” flowers, only one day was necessary to “set” everything. The tea cup flowers took two days because I had to glue the cups to the saucer and then glue that to the the “stem” (once I knew the first glue would hold). I still plan on painting the glass bell flowers and maybe – just maybe – I will embellish the tea cup flowers.

I’m pretty pleased with the results.

The mushrooms proved a tad bit more difficult. For one thing, I wanted to fill in the space between the cap & the stem to prevent slugs and other creatures from using that space as a home. And one “stem” needed ballast.

Ballast ended up being glass “stones” for a decorative vase glued to the inside.

I assembled the mushrooms and set them aside to set. And while they were setting, we made a run to Home Depot for some other weekend needs.

Don’t you love it when the answer is dropped into your lap? What the heck is “Great Stuff” anyway? Some sort of expanding foam insulation for $3/can. I bought a can and told my husband that I wasn’t going to let anyone at the hardware store know what my intended use was. He just grinned.

And told me that it expands as you spray it, so I thought “COOL.”

Except it expands as it hardens.

Um… Not sure I wanted it to expand THAT much. Oh, hahaha! This could be interesting.

I figure, what the heck! I am going to sand it and cut it and shape it to look like “gills” anyway. And I plan on pulling out my unused airbrush to paint the final mushrooms.

So on that note, here are the not-so-final mushrooms right-side-up.

Use your imagination. Pretend they are already painted.

I can “see” them.

I am jumping the gun by showing you the raw products but I am just so excited at what I got accomplished this weekend. It makes me very hungry to do more!

See you tomorrow!

Oh – and these may not be “patriotic” but they do represent something this Nation was founded on: our right to the pursuit of happiness. I certainly was pursuing happiness today!

ttfn~

I am not really smart when it comes to having time off and needing or wanting to get things done. I came into this weekend with low back pain but did it stop me from doing a ton of stuff? Oh no, what’s pain? And maybe I’d do something to make whatever is out slip back in…

It’s looking terribly like I will be calling my doctor this week. Hopefully I can get an appointment that doesn’t take a big hole out of a work day, like an early morning slot. I don’t need to miss any more work.

Now that I have complained, here’s a little bit of what I did today. Just today, mind you: the entire weekend is dedicated to some art work but what I did today lies under the heading “the what you do while you wait for the glue to dry so you can move on to the next step step”.

I bought some flowers at BiMart yesterday. They were on sale because they were dying with the rest of the garden center plants. I planted those flowers.

Yes, I know what it is but I left the little card somewhere and I’m not going to go look for it. It’s in the mum family.

Another mum.

I planted the little ID tag with this. All I remember about it is that it grows tall and it like part shade. And it’s very pretty purple.

So I’m not making any points as a Master Gardener tonight, I want to reiterate: my back hurts. I refuse to walk back out and look these things up right now. Sometimes my blogging audience just has to deal with it. I know you’ll forgive me.

I worked on multiple art projects, too.

Then I got a wild hair (or is it a wild hare?) and decided to take down the fence around my prayer garden. I put the fence up three years ago when Murphy was a very large and obnoxious puppy and my prayer garden was still in the very beginning stages. Murphy has grown.

So has my garden.

and

Those are my pitiful tomato plants in the front. I think I have a blossom starting to open on one. It’s only the 3rd of July, what the heck. If we have hot weather through October, I might even get a ripe tomato.

I decided what my magazine rack needed was hens and chicks. (The top has been removed as it is part of what I am working on this weekend art-wise.)

Left over hens and chicks were transplanted to the dry side of the garden where all the neighbor’s pine cones fall. They should survive. I think I’ll plant a number of sedums in that area over the next few weeks. Great drainage.

Tomorrow or maybe Tuesday I will post the art projects. I think I should be done with most of them by then.

I’m really just so excited to be able to spend a whole weekend working on art and not much else. 🙂

And something to leave you with: what does that sign say that I have hanging in my prayer garden?

You’re dying to know, I know it.

WARNING

UNDER OREGON LAW ORS 30.687 & 30.697, AN EQUINE PROFESSIONAL IS NOT FOR AN INJURY TO OR THE DEATH OF A PARTICIPANT IN EQUINE ACTIVITIES RESULTING FROM THE INHERENT RISKS OF EQUINE ACTIVITIES.

In other words, if you go out into my horse pasture to pet my horse and he spooks and kicks you, it’s your own dang fault – not the horse’s. Or the owner of the horse. I don’t have a horse anymore but I like my sign. “Inherent risks of equine activities” still makes me smile. And, yes, I’ve been kicked.

Write it off to one of those strange things I like in my garden. And I do have a horse in the garden, somewhere. Another one of those mysterious finds out there…

There it is! Watching the big dogs play!

Hope your weekend was just as productive, minus the dang back ache. I need more ibuprophen now…

I think a proper garden should have treasures hidden in it. Unexpected art, winding pathways, a nice garden bench. I was thinking about that this morning when I had my camera in hand and later this afternoon when I was viewing the world through someone else’s camera.

Through my camera:

There are salmon swimming upstream on the fence and on the wire support for my gladiolas…

So one is going east and the other one is headed west…

A frog in a planter…

A bunny by the bench…

A snake slithering through…

A hovering dragonfly…

A magazine rack with a glass top that needs to be repainted…

I kid you not. But then I just showed you the photo of it. I should be ashamed. That glass top has needed repainting for two summers and I have neglected to do it. I promise: this year I will repaint that glass top. Any ideas for what I can put in the magazine rack? I disdain plastic flowers so don’t even go there.

Through someone else’s camera:

After I took these photos, I went to see the Willy Wonka 40th Anniversary Sing Along at McMennamin’s Crystal Ballroom with my friend, Mary (and her adorable granddaughter, Joy). And I spied two more things I just need for my garden!

I need some of those giant amanita muscaria mushrooms.

And I need some of those narcissus tea cup flowers Willy Wonka drank out of (and then ate).

Now I just have to wrap my brain around how to make the giant mushrooms (without using styrofoam!). I think I can manage the tea cups – those are a matter of the right glue, the right cups and saucers and a stand to put them on.

Boy, am I glad I decided to think about hidden garden treasures today. It set me up for the afternoon’s delight and another craft project for the summer months.

And, yes, I think I will pass on the giant lollipops.

I’m tired.

I probably over-did.

I had that surgery on Thursday. The one where the doctor goes in and uses ultrasound technology to blow up a kidney stone into pieces the size of sand. That surgery.

It wasn’t as easy as it sounds. There was a stent the doctor put in between the kidney and the bladder that caused spasms. I had two pain killers on hand. I slept a lot.

Got the stent pulled out on Friday and felt immediate relief. But my kidney still felt a bit like I had been sucker-punched. I slept more.

Today I felt great. No pain. Ahhhhhh.

So I went out shopping: Home Depot for the fence project mentioned before, BiMart (locally owned) to purchase items used to spoil dogs, the Farmer’s Market for local strawberries and hazelnut mulch, and the grocery store.

And then, because it was uncommonly nice out, I weeded and edged the front yard flower beds. That really is not as big of a project as I make it sound: not many weeds grow under the rhododendrons and the earth stays soft and loamy. Trimming up the rhododendrons was probably not the greatest idea, but I trimmed one up anyway. I like to be able to see under them and behind them.

Then I planted sunflowers.

I hate to even confess I did that but I wasn’t home during the month of May and I didn’t get any sunflower seeds into the ground. There was a pot of 3 sunflowers for $13 at the grocery store and I figured I’d bite the bullet. It’s for the finches, you know.

The weather has been so crappy that our Dragon Flower hasn’t even bloomed yet. It blooms on the 7th of June. Rather, it has always bloomed on the 7th of June every year since we inherited the original plant. This year it is going to bloom on the 4th of July.

The dogs eat it. So this year – since it is late – I’ve actually had time to think about how to keep the dogs out of it. I put up the unused tomato cages around it.

It’ll keep Harvey out, anyway. I don’t have much hope for keeping Murphy out of anything. He’s a motivated pest.

I spread that hazelnut mulch out around the plants in the island flower bed. Pretty, isn’t it? Not harmful to dogs. Slugs hate it. Eventually I want to do all my flower beds in hazelnut mulch.

What else did I do…?

I did the laundry and hung it outside to dry. I love love love my clothesline! I hate hate hate it when I have to use the dryer.

Oh – and I bought myself a garden helper!

No more lugging that 75′ of hose out and wondering where it’s going to kink! Better yet – I can reel it all back in. AHHHHHH.

I worked on my little fence project, too, but I have decided to do a Squidoo “lens” about that. I’ll publish a link when I’m done with it.

For now: I’m done in. My back doesn’t hurt but my get-up-and-go is all gone. I’m happy it was a productive day.

Just don’t ask if I cleaned house… because I didn’t. ;-P

I have this idea on how to recycle the wood from one of those (actually three of those) little picket fences you buy in a roll.

See, I have the fence but the plastic that holds it together is brittle and the stakes that hold it into the ground are non-existent. But the wooden pickets just need paint: they’re fine. I hate to just throw them away because the fence is broken (or because it is such a pain to try to set up in the first place).

I figured I could use a length of lath across the back (two lengths, actually, to stabilize) and buy long wooden stakes which I would nail onto it every 6 pickets (or thereabouts).

So I went down to Home Depot to price the materials and to get an idea of how to fasten the lath and stakes to the pickets. Of course, they sell what I want to make: little 3′ long picket fences to put around flower beds. I even put two in my basket because I needed them right now and I knew I wouldn’t actually get to my project for a week or do. And they make great proto-types. $5 a piece, pre-made.

Lath is cheap: a bundle of 12 for $4.99. Stakes are right next to the lath: $0.29 each. That would make six of those little fences for under $20 (including cost of fasteners and spray paint). I figured either a long staple from a staple gun or maybe even a fence staple for chicken wire (the smallest ones). But I couldn’t find them by myself and had to ask for help.

MISTAKE.

What is it about some men that when they find out a woman has a project on her mind, they have to explain to her why it can’t work the way she’s pictured it? And why do they have to talk to her like she’s a child?

“You can’t replicate the fastenings on that fence. They used a pneumatic staple gun.”

“I know that: it was put together in a factory. Got it. Where are the fence staples?”

(Shows me a package of HUGE fence staples) “These will just break the wood. You can’t staple that like they did, they used a pneumatic staple gun. That’s a heavy-duty commercial staple gun run off of…”

“I know that. I got that. Those staples are too big. I wanted to look at the littlest ones, please.”

“Those are for fastening chicken wire. That’s a small wire fence you staple to posts.”

“Then I’ll look at 5/16″ staples for a staple gun.”

“Those were inserted with a pneumatic staple gun. There’s glue on each staple and they come in a long roll that runs through the staple gun…”

He continues in his vein of why I can’t do what I want. I just said, “I’m only pricing things. I’m going to leave now.”

I wanted to say, “You jerk. Did I ask you for advice? Did I ask you if I had permission to do this?? Can I hit you on the head with my picket fence that was stapled with a pneumatic staple gun? Oh, heck: sell me the staple gun and I’ll use it on you: bratatatatatatatat!”

I came home with my price list and confronted my husband: how would he go about putting it together?

Wanna know what he said?

Sure you do.

You’re just itching.

He’d purchase lath, stakes, and either 5/16″ staples for the staple gun or some of those small fence staples. Maybe he’d use a little heavy-duty Gorilla glue between the pieces of wood when he ran the staple through them.

Made me want to bop the Home Depot guy even more.

I didn’t complete my project: I have yet to buy the materials. What I did do was recycle the white wire fence I had around the island flower bed. Don keeps hitting it with the lawn mower and it served no purpose. Originally, I put it there to keep Murphy out of my flower bed. It never worked.

It just gets in the way of mowing and edging.

I rearranged my north flower bed by putting the park bench  between some peonies where my aster used to be (I dug the aster out). I have some wire features along the fence (invisible to the camera) to keep the gladiolas from falling over when they get taller, but both dogs walk all over the flowers in the front of the bed.

The horse is temporary: I need to fix his legs. But right now he serves as a further deterrent to dogs that might think of jumping over that little fence to walk on tender flowers. There’s just not enough room for a dog between the white fence, the plants, the gladiola barrier, the horse and my bench.

Just enough fence to leave open the space in front of the bench so it remains utilitarian. It’s a great view.

Wait! I still had more fence left! I took one section back to my prayer garden and halved it:

One slightly used wire fence forms a plant barrier to my garden path. Cool. Doubles as something to hold up the Shasta daisies when they are heavy with bloom.

I left the fence on the south end of the island above. I have an evening primrose that grew through it and is using it for support. And (this is important) I have a peony that the dogs like to pee on. Just one peony: they don’t bother any of the other ones. I left the fence around that one peony to keep the dogs at bay. So far it works.

I’ll post photos of the picket fence when I attempt to make it. I’m sure it will turn out just fine despite the nay-sayer at Home Depot.

He should see some of the other things I’ve jury-rigged in my life time. He needs to think outside of the box.

ttfn

P.S. Today was the first day of summer and the sun came out. I think we even reached 83 degrees Farenheit. It was almost heavenly.

Recently I had the pleasure of hearing a first-hand account of a Bigfoot encounter. If you know me, you know I am a believer in the elusive Sasquatch. I make jokes and follow the news, but the truth is: I think there *is* something out there. It doesn’t really worry me when I am out in the woods (I worry more about Here Kitty Kitty Kitty as in COUGAR and bears than I do Harry of Harry & the Hendersons) but it is something I think about. A lot, actually.

I went out to dinner with a group of old friends and new friends recently. Two of my old friends told a story from their youthful days that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. They did it tag-team style as they recounted an event that took place over 35 years ago, an event that is burned into their memories.

They worked together and after work they sometimes managed to get a six pack of beer which they took out into the mountains to drink. On this particular night, there was just a little snow left in the passes and the side roads were accessible. They were in an old Karmann Ghia and couldn’t go too far off-roads, but they went south out of town and onto some old Jeep trail until they came to the snow. It was dark out and they parked so they could easily get back out in the little car. Juniper and Pinion Pine surrounded them, sagebrush and old snow drifts, and the deep black night.

The first thing they noticed when they stopped was the set of eyeballs glowing in the woods, just visible in the passenger side-view mirror. “Mule deer,” they said and agreed.

But the eyes moved closer and the figure loomed larger. The two teenagers fell silent as they watched something in the side view mirrors. The brake lights no longer reflected in the eyes and darkness enveloped the car. Suddenly, the back of the car dipped down like someone was pushing down on the bumper. Really went down. Then it squeaked back to level.

The two young men sat silent a moment.

“What the …?”

“Want to see?”

Now, at this point I would have been turning the key in the ignition and getting the hell out of there, but this story is about young men. Young men who obviously never watched Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” and who obviously never screamed at Tippi Hedren: “Don’t open the door! Don’t open the door! Don’t CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND YOU!!!” (Tippi Hedren ignores all the warnings, too, and nearly gets pecked to death by the birds in the attic.)

The once-young men who told me this story both got OUT OF THE CAR. Yes, they actually got out. Testosterone – this is why men do stupid things. Anyway, they got out and shined their flashlights around. Nothing. Except the SMELL!!!

They tried to put it into words.

“The smell is hard to describe..not overpowering, but strong….dirty, sweaty, burning hair, rotten flesh. Kinda akin to that when an abscess bursts…”

There was also a set of very large human-like tracks in the snow bank where whatever-it-was retreated. They ran their flashlights out along the tracks.

And then it screamed.

Suddenly, good sense took over: they jumped into the Karmann Ghia and got the heck out of Dodge. Somewhere down the road, they stopped and popped open their first beer of the evening.

The wife of one of the men confided to me that, “I used to think he was making this up but the story never changes. It’s always the same details. I believe him now.”

They claim the encounter happened somewhere near Connors Summit in Nevada. (???) Circa 1970-1973.

Do you believe? I am convinced.