As The Butter Churns

March 29th Pig Tales

    (Arriving at Cascade Meadows Farm)

     “Pigs!” Screamed Quinn, Henry and Phoebe at a pitch only children can reach. The pigs in the field looked up. “Piggies!” Quinn screamed again, and suddenly adorable black pigs were running toward us their floppy ears bouncing up and down. The black pigs against the green carpet of grass were quite a sight. We were all instantly enthralled. I pulled over and parked. The Lisas were certain this wasn’t the right house, but I wasn’t. I walked up to the door and knocked. A Reubenesque woman came to the door.

    “I’m looking for Cascade Meadows?” I said as she peeked out the well-worn farmhouse door.

    “Next door.” She said and pulled her head back in out of the freezing rain. I got the told-you-so look from the Lisas. Drat. The Lisas were right again. They went back to move the car while the kids ran giggling and skipping over as I walked the distance to the pale green house.

(Cascade Meadows Farm)

    Soon Kirk was outside dressed for the weather. “If you guys were real farmers, you’d have boots on.” He laughed. I had boots in the car I thought silently but since no one else did I remained quiet. I was not the kid in the class who raised their hand and reminded the teacher no homework had been assigned.
Kirk picked up a 50lb. bag of grain and began calling “Here little piggies! Here little piggies!” as he walked out into a field. Big pigs, little pigs and pigs with enormous teats came from all directions to snack on the grain.

(Kirk opening the grain with both Mamas)

(Standing in the freezing rain: Lisa, Quinn, Phoebe/Henry & L. Awesomez)

(Henry, Me, the pigs and the Spotted Sussex in the hail)
 
    “Ahhhhs” came from everyone as the pigs gathered in the field around Kirk.
“Look Mama! We have that grain for the cows. We already have the kind of food they like.” Henry said, starting his sales campaign.

    “They’re certainly not as big as the pigs at the fair.” My sister said approvingly. “And so engaging.”

(piglet and Mama)

    “No.” Kirk said. “And some of these are four-years-old, so you know they are full grown.”

     “Can you tell which are boys or girls when they’re young?” Quinn asked.

    “Sure, it’s easy.” Kirk said squatting down to teach Quinn how to sex a piglet. Attentive, she was soon sexing all the pigs in effort to narrow down which ones we should take home with us. It seems this was her part in the multi-tiered campaign. Quinn who had expressed some concern about me taking on another animal had folded like a tent.

(Farm girl Quinn learning how to sex a pig from Kirk)

    Kirk was very informative about his pigs. We discussed needing a health certificate to cross state lines and the sensibility of eating your own pig. We talked about the varying hair length their cold tolerance and breed standards.

    “I just don’t think I could butcher my pig.” I said, although I am getting closer to understanding that if people don’t eat these breeds they will become extinct.

    “Buying pork at the market is the same as plunging a knife into the side of this pig.” He said with hand gestures and drama. “I can kill my best friend on the farm. Sure I shed a tear while I’m doing it, but I know the animal had a completely happy life and until the moment I put a bullet in it’s head it has lived a good day. There is no trauma, no fear. It’s just been doing piggy things like eating and being with family until the end. I feel honored to eat it and have it become a part of me.” I glanced over at Awesomez. I could see by the look on her face, this logic was not sitting well with her. The kids while listening to this were distracted to a degree happily scratching pigs right and left. Smiles never leaving their faces they cooed to their new friends.
(Quinn giving a good scratch)

    “Now, I’ve heard horror stories about pigs attacking dogs and kids, but I know you have a young daughter. Do you worry?” I asked thinking of Alfred the Awful and Maryruth’s stern warnings regarding swine purchases.

    “I really don’t. Certainly you want to handle any animal with respect, but these pigs don’t eat the chickens. Many breeds would kill them, but these don’t. They’re pretty gentle it’s been bred out of them. They eat whatever, but they only eat dead things. I’ve never seen any of my pigs kill anything. They forage for most of their food. Just need some shelter from the weather some grain if they’re nursing.

(Guinea Hog and Spotted Sussex)

    “They’re easy keepers.” My sister said.

    “Exactly! They’re easy keepers.” Kirk agreed readily.

    “I’m an easy keeper.” My sister said shrugging her shoulders as Kirk fell victim to my sister’s wit.

    “I’m an easy keeper too.” Kirk agreed.

    They yammered on about frequency of breeding seasons as I meandered over to where Henry was petting Abbey. She’d rolled over on her side so he could really pet her. She was engorged her teats enormous. I wondered if he was just feeling her up in some prepubescent way. As I got closer I could see he was shaking her while singing, “My milkshake brings all the hogs to the yard…” I walked on. Boys.

(Henry does a milk shake on Abbey)

(Henry gives a pig hug)

    “Denise did you hear what Henry is singing?” Quinn demanded. I nodded as I turned toward Lisa. She stood silently in what was alternating between frozen rain and hail doing her best drown rat impression. Cheerily enduring the muddy farm. Truly a good sport I thought as I don’t think there is a drop of farm girl in her. It was more than obvious she didn’t want to cuddle the wet hairy pigs, but she earned my eternal devotion when she succumbed to the kids begging and pleading. The mother of three couldn’t say no. She walked over slowly, as I watched giggling to myself knowing a week ago Lisa, now Awesomez, never thought she’d be standing in mud on a pig farm petting a Guinea Hog, rare or not. I am convinced this visit marks more than one experience as a first. Dare I say she liked them all? Her beaming smile seemed to indicate she was having a good time despite her hesitancy.

(Lisa aka L. Awesomez, Phoebe, Quinn and Henry with Abbey the Guinea Hog)
(Lisa making the best of wet pig hair)

(Nubian - gymnasts of the farm set)

    It was just about this time Nubians showed up to see what was going on. Each goat followed the next sneaking under a gap in the fence determined to get some of the leftover grain. The pigs, on the other hand, having licked the bowls fairly clean, decided enough was enough. Grain or no grain they were going to seek shelter. So off they trotted with the girls skipping along behind them. Henry by now had a favorite pig. A little boy he kept picking up. I know he kept picking him up because each time he did, the baby boy pig would initially squeal. Lisa said the first thing you learn about treating pigs is the essential equipment: earplugs.

(Henry cuddles the baby)

(Henry and baby boy pig)

(Henry, Quinn and Phoebe devise their evil plot to sway me)

    Soon, the baby pig was getting used to Henry and letting himself be handled and snuggled and cuddled and kissed while the mamas, Abbey and I, kept a close eye on the action.
The begging began to intensify as the three experienced lobbyists sat in the mud with the piglets. I held the line. It just wasn’t the time to get a pig I kept repeating in my mind trying to resist them and their charms. I had to concentrate on the reasons I wasn’t here to get a pig today. There are so many considerations like constructing the fence and gate, readying the barn, which I admit, is a small factor. Then there’s the money issue and the fact we’re leaving for Montana very soon, the goslings are coming and I need to figure out what to do with the pterodactyls, Cleveland and Alfred, Ruthie and Matilda so I held the line. Oh, I wavered as anyone who knows me knows. But much to everyone’s surprise I held firm, even when Lord Awesomez generously offered to sponsor the pig and its grain. I couldn’t wait to get in the car; I was ready to buckle at any moment.
(Phoebe pulls herself out of the depths of despair for the camera)

(The piglets)

    The once happy faces of the three little cherubs were now full of loss and despair as they walked the last steps to the car their hopes dashed. Henry clutched baby boy pig almost in tears. “But Mama, he’ll be gone and taken to some butcher.” Henry said in a low tone the pig snuggled up in his arms as he spoke.

    “And just before they cut his throat he’ll think of the Millers.” Quinn interjected. Great she’s a bundle of fun that one.

    “Deniiiiiise why did you bring us?” Phoebe moped. “You should have bonded more with the pigs,” she lamented.

(Sad Henry and piggy)

    “Kids, I didn’t mean to upset you I thought you’d love this, I wanted us to have fun. I told you we weren’t getting a pig today. Maybe we shouldn’t have come. I just wanted to make sure we really wanted a pig at all and if we did if this was the right breed for us. I think it definitely is and so do your mom and Lisa, but I just can’t get the pigs right now. I want to be ready.” I explained logically knowing I could snap in a moment. I had to get out of there fast. I was starting to have thoughts of going to PetCo™ to get a carrier. “Kirk said they were going to have another litter this summer and we could get an even younger pig. We’ll have everything ready and it’ll be right.” I said with conviction.

    “But he was my soul pig” Henry mourned. His soul pig? Stop. The Lisas looked at me. Three mothers knew there was only one thing to do. “Will I find another soul pig”? Henry continued moaning. We drove off and headed right for “Basketball Robins” (Baskin Robins™) where a scoop of chocolate ice cream or rainbow sherbet (if you’ve given up chocolate for Lent) in a waffle cone can still right the world once again.

   

 

    

March 28th Taking The Cake

  

  (Vivian and Bruno inside for a sleepy day)

    I love to make rules. My most quoted rule is “No eating the popcorn before the credits.” I established this rule so I wouldn’t spend half the movie popcornless. However, in recent times due to endless previews and the advent of commercials in the theatre I have had to abandon this mandate.

    Today, I had to follow the rules: Lisa’s rules. Lisa’s rule number 1. No work today. Lisa’s rule number 2. No getting out of pajamas. Lisa’s rule number 3. Happy Hour begins on Greenwich time. Lisa’s rule number 4. Henry gets to pick one of the movies.

    Once absolutely everyone had had breakfast and I had a full pot of coffee brewing we sat down to our first movie. “Twilight”. Lisa had a new found appreciation for the idea vampires could actually roam about in Washington’s weather. Next up was “Benchwarmers”. Lisa tried to protect me, but she truly didn’t make it clear what she thought we were in for. As it turns out, she found my distaste for the movie about as entertaining as the movie. I would not call “Benchwarmers” entertaining. Disgusting is more accurate, but I’m not an eleven-year-old boy or the Awesomez, who laughed far too much for my liking as the once co-founder of CABF (Co-eds Against Bodily Functions) After that we saw “Bugsy Malone” and then moved to Absolut™ Peach, lemonade and Reese Witherspoon’s debut movie “The Man In The Moon”.

(Lisa - Awesomez-, Luther and Henry warm and toasty)

(Henry's own recipe for his special Awesomez cake with Chai icing drizzle- there was a slight problem with the sunflower bundt removal, but it tasted fabulous nonetheless)

    The next morning we were up before the cows. Meeting Lisa, Quinn and Phoebe in Burlington by 5:30AM for a five and a half hour ride to the little town of Sandy, Oregon to see some rare heritage American Guinea Hog piglets at Cascade Meadows Farm. Kirk, the owner, had suggested I bring a dog carrier in case, I wanted to take a breeding pair with me. I did indeed eye one of my larger carriers before we left, but decided to leave it home. This was purely an informational trip. We were going to see another farm with heritage animals. Kirk and his partner have very similar breeds and I was extremely interested to see how they were kept. I was hoping to learn something I could incorporate. And of course, I wanted to see the piggies

    I love a road trip. You get to just be together, chat, hang out and eat. We brought along plenty of snacks for the kids and a huge portion of Henry's chocolate creation he'd made the night before. Quinn complained as she gave up chocolate for Lent, but was soothed by tastes of the Chai icing. Lisa was unhappy as she unwisely gave up all sweets.

    The seating arrangements are always worrisome, but they seemed to work out easily. Henry and Phoebe were compatible in the way back. Lisa and Quinn snuggled in the middle and I had the Awesomez in the front directing me, just in case.

(On our way down I-5)

(Henry and Phoebe in the van)

(Henry and Phoebe watching a movie on Awesomez's dvd player)

(Phoeb)

(Quinn avoiding the camera)

    “Keep an eye on her Lisa,” my sister instructed, “ She tailgates.” I was instantly annoyed. I tailgate. OK I tailgated in college. That’s just like me getting warned at every family cooking or baking event not to put the wooden spoon in the mixer – like I did when I was eight-years-old. Do you never get a fresh start?  I drove on.

    We’d almost arrived at our destination and were going through town looking for somewhere to feed and water the kids. Just as I was about to go through an intersection, "Stop!!" my sideseat driver yelled scaring me out of my wits. It seems she thought I was going too fast and was about to plow into the car ahead of us. Maybe I was going a bit faster than optimum speed, but I was not about to plow into any car. It took me several minutes to resume my previous heartrate as we drove kept looking for a place to start. I wondered if this was why she had done all the driving while she was here. Whatever.

    “Hungry kids are cranky and want to leave.” Awesomez interjected wisely. She’s right, but I think in my excitement I would have just charged forward neglecting bathroom breaks. No matter, I fell in line with the Lisas.

(Henry and Quinn clown around)

    Loretta, my navi, had a full breakdown when we got close to the farm. She had absolutely no data on this area and was close to hysterical. All we were provided was a dotted line. It was kind of like being in a video game. I took a left, as it looked like I should but the arrow turned away from the dots. We didn’t need a sense of direction what we needed was a gamer. We knew were getting close as the arrow consumed the dots on the screen. Henry provided the sound track. “Booop. Booop. Booop.” When we reached the right street we knew we’d made it to the next level.

    “Pigs!” I yelled as they came into view…
 Guinea Hog at Cascade Meadows Farm)

March 27th Over Easy

(Spring is promising to come)

    Ever since Lisa Awesomez arrived, I’ve stopped doing anything. She's giving me a good dose of mothering, she drives me around, does my dishes, chats with Henry, sweeps my hallway, takes me out to eat, pours the wine and has even tried to help me feed the goats.

    In fact, when we were out in the barn I decided we’d better isolate Clara and Lloyd from the other geese again. So we readied the Honeymoon Suite for her and her soon-to-be-goslings. Luckily, we’d had the foresight to put her nest in the bottom of a dog carrier so she was easily moved. I scooped a bunch of shavings in to make it comfy cozy, we got the old gosling’s water jug and filled it. Lisa was able to tighten it down whereas I couldn’t – a rare show of strength, because although she is athletic, I’ve always known I could kick her butt if need be. She too is aware of this, which makes me smile.

    Anyway, I digress, we got some goose feed and put it in a bowl for her and then finally transferred her nest. We were going to try to keep her on top, but were too afraid she’d start flapping and we’d lose control of the nest. To be on the safe side then, we removed Clara from her eggs and gingerly and more carefully than the jeweler cutting diamonds on the old Lincoln™ commercials, we transported the nest. Clara followed closely behind watching us like a hawk or mother hen or some sort of watchful bird. She waddled into the Honeymoon Suite and with her bill counted her eggs. Then walked back to where her nest had previously been looking for her babies. She was confused. I picked her up and brought her to her eggs once more. She didn’t sit on her nest, but stood there looking around. Lisa (Awesomez) and I got a piece of wood and barricaded her in. She was agitated almost frantic, but I thought she’d settle down in a moment. I was wrong. With the determination of a mother trying to protect her young, Clara flew over the barricade and went to where her old nest had been once again. Lisa and I stood there dumbfounded. We wanted to protect her not torture her. I scooped her up again and put her back near her eggs.

(Clara checks nest)
(Clara looks for her missing nest)

(Clara refuses to sit on her nest - unconvinced all her eggs are here)

(Clara's nest uncovered in case it tempts her)

    “Do you have a larger piece of wood?” Lisa asked me sensibly.

    “I should, you guard Clara and I’ll look.” I suggested.

    “Guard Clara? What? Me?” Lisa asked in a slight panic. “You are going to leave me alone with the goose?” She asked wide-eyed.

    “Yes. Just stand there so she doesn’t fly out again. You don’t really have to do anything, she’s not going to fly when you’re blocking the way.” I left her there uncomfortably watching her charge while I went around the yard looking for a suitable piece of wood that would serve as Clara’s barrier, but everything I found was either too big or too heavy or not quite right. When I returned, Lisa was standing there staring at Clara and Clara was staring right back at Lisa.
(Clara looking at Lisa)

(Vivian helping)

    “She did eat and drink a little bit, I think she’s settling down.” Lisa dutifully reported. Suddenly, braniac that I am, I had an idea. Why didn’t we just close the sliding door? It seems obvious, but we hadn’t wanted to really ‘close them in’ like that. I felt more comfortable being able to peek in, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Sure enough, when we came back to check on her, she was back on her nest.

(Clara finally sits)

    Several times through out the day I came out to check on her. Lisa no longer wanted to come because of them. The evil twins. Alfred and Cleveland are waging war on anyone who comes in to their yard. They tried to goose Lisa, but she escaped.
(Alfred and Cleveland -menacing)

(Alfred and Cleveland waging war)

(Cleveland aggressive)

(Lloyd full of personality, mugging for the camera)

(Lisa and her new friends, Lloyd and Quackmire going to the pond)

I wasn’t so lucky. Alfred attacked me. He surprised me by getting me by the pant leg and almost took me down. I had to push him away with a shovel. Upset and disappointed, I wondered how Phoebe would have fared. Strangely, Ruthie and Matilda are getting just as aggressive while Lloyd and Quackmire are just as cuddly as ever and Clara lets me pet her on the nest. Mabel is skittish these days, but would never attack. As a result, thoughts of culling the gaggle in favor of a couple of goslings are going through my head. But I’ll think about that tomorrow, it must be time for Lisa to make dinner and I need another glass of wine.

March 25th The Batman and Alfred

   

  (Eagle soars)

    The day was like any other lately, rainy, but to me the sun was shining I had my friend, Lisa visiting. We went to the Harris Café with Annie and my sister. There was laughter, stories and tips on visiting Cancun. We chatted how Lisa owned a wildly successful Mexican restaurant  in Mammoth but can’t speak a word of Spanish, can’t cook a bit of Mexican food, but can smile and delegate. We talked about swimming with the dolphins, and the demands of parenting girls. It was there I drifted from the conversation sinking into a place of financial despair. They shared, giggled and discussed trip insurance while I selfishly wondered how I was going to pay my bills. It was like watching TV as I sat there disassociated from the experience. Just in time, I came back to the real world and joined the conversation as the bill arrived.

(more soaring eagle - blah, blah, blah)

    Afterward, we went home and Lisa met the barn animals. She made friends with Miracle. Candled Mabel's eggs and got acquainted with Apache. In the end, she was justifiably afraid of the geese, well Alfred especially who chased an injured Lisa out of the barn and across the yard at full tilt. She narrowly avoided being goosed on our way back in the house.

    It being almost noon and this being vacation I was told by several friends it was perfectly acceptable to serve lunch in a glass. So I blended up a pitcher of margaritas. I was a tad nervous as Lisa is an “on the rocks – no salt” margarita drinker. This comes with a disdain for those of us who enjoy the frozen version. Apparently, we’re not real “drinkers”, we don’t enjoy tequila. Guilty on both counts. Still she asked for one and I was trying to be an accommodating hostess. I watched her as she took a sip. She didn’t grimace and told me, “Mil, they’re really good for being blended.” I accepted this as high praise. As we finished our pitcher I noticed it was almost time to pick up my boy.

(Another empty egg)
(Lisa humoring me)

(Lisa with some bad eggs)


    We hopped in the car and started out when I saw my down the road neighbor, John, riding his bicycle so we stopped.

(John)

    “Hey John, I spoke to Leah the other day, and she said you were thinking of putting in a walk way. If she wants to come up and take a peek at mine just stop by.”

    “Who?”

    “Leah? Your wife, the woman you live with.” I said kidding.

    “Oh! I couldn’t really hear you.” He said.

    “So, I did mine with Quickcrete™ from Lowes™.” I informed him.

    “I’ve been putting mothballs out lately.”

    “Mothballs? Why what do you use that for?” I asked completely confused.

    “Bats.”

    “Bats? Mothballs keep bats at bay?” I said as surprised as I could be.

(Bat flying in my house - some time ago)

    “Yeah, we’ve found a bunch in the house, but since the mothballs we’ve only had one.” He stated firmly. “Before that I had to go after them with my trout fishing net or my 32.”

    “John! You were shooting at bats in your house?” I laughed. I thought Lisa was going to pee in her pants.

    “Well, I wasn’t going to sleep. Leah doesn’t like bats flying around in the house. So I had to get ‘em.”

    “John, let me get this straight you’re either running around your log cabin with your trout net after a bat or shooting at them in your house in the middle of the night?

    “Yep. The trout net worked pretty well.” He said with a lilt in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes. Leah wasn’t going let me sleep with bats in the house so I had to take care of the problem. We then discussed the cougar incident with the dog being taken off the porch and wrapped it up Henry was waiting.

    “Well, come by any time and I’d love to show you the walkway.” I said sincerely.

    We picked up Henry who was so excited to see Lisa. “Gomez!” He screamed when he saw her. “You are so Awesome! You are: Awesomez! In fact, you're Lord Awesomez!”

    "Shouldn't that be Lady Awesomez?" I inquired concerned about gender correctness.

    "NO! Lord Awesomez has waaay more power." Henry emphatically confirmed.

    “Awesomez? Awesomez? Really. I think that’s the best name ever next to Go-Go."

(Henry and Lord Awesomez share secrets)

   

   
   
   

March 24th It's About Time

   

(A rainbow - proof it does stop raining in Washington)

    Last week my friend, Go-Go, Lisa Gomez  (one of the many Lisa’s in my life) announced she was coming to visit me this week in addition to the already arranged July visit with her daughter, Lindsey. My initial response was “Fantastic!” my next thought was of the mounds of laundry, the landing I’d thought would be finished in time and the general state of farmness my house was in. You know, lead ropes on the dining room table, defunct goose eggs in a basket and sundry drywall mud buckets littering the front porch. One thing was clear, it had to all be cleaned and ready and that was that.

    On the way home from gymnastics I discovered, Henry wanted to make some money and more interestingly, he didn’t mind the idea of laundry. We struck a deal. He was to wash, fold AND put all the clothes away in drawers for $20.00 bucks. Now, this may seem like a lot of money to some and Henry actually admitted he’d have done it for $5.00 but as it was he needed at least two washing machines and a few days to get through it all. There were mishaps and a fairly steep learning curve. We now own a beautifully dense woolen sweater suitable for Bruno to wear in the winter. He also washed and dried my wool winter coat but I’d had it for 15 years and these were small sacrifices to pay for tidy linens.
(Henry doing his Cinder-fella impression)

(Irish somehow squeezed into the chair)

(Because Bruno has stolen the big dog bed and Irish won't challenge his best buddy the rat-bat dog)

    In the mean time, Alexis and I worked on the landing. We finished patching and sanding per Tom’s instructions then used two coats of ZAP™ exterior primer and let it fully cure. Next, a dark primer to save on paint and soon we were doing topcoat. As a result of one of my many Home Depot™ and Lowes™ runs I decided to do the one wall leading up to the stairs in metallic gold. However, once done it seemed so big and blank, requiring large pieces of art I don’t have money for. So I switched gears and went with a weathered sage crackle finish. Accomplishing two things, making the wall look more interesting and hiding the imperfections from the formerly “cottage cheese” wall it had been. I added curtains and we were good to go.
(Alexis cuts-in the dark primer)

(the gold wall goes up)

(Henry has one of the new doors - just had to paint it)

(cranberry walls and black doors - will want new doors when I can eek out the cash)

(still needs baseboards- stair runner, banister & crown molding but it's getting there)

 

(gold curtains, cranberry walls, gold crackle with sage overcoat)

    It was almost midnight when we finished the day before she was to arrive and I still hadn’t really made a dent in the cleaning. The general house wasn’t too bad, but there were floors to mop and everything required dusting. The kitchen had been ignored for days due to project mode. And of course, the landing had everything in one big heap in the middle of the room, dry wall mud stuck to the floor and tools absolutely everywhere. I started with the construction zone, as I didn’t want Gomez coming in and feeling like she had to don a hard hat. I worked and worked and worked. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. At about 4:30AM I chatted online with my friend, Alicia, the Steeler fan. At 5:30 AM I called Mike. I knew he’d be up. He’s always up and he’d chat with me to keep me going while I washed the floors in the sunroom. At 6:30AM Tom called and I was just about ready to tackle my room. By the time Henry got up, things were not quite the state of emergency they had been when he went to bed.

(got the desk back in place -albeit messy)

    “Henry it’s time to get up.” I said exasperated from lack of sleep. “You haven’t helped me at all. You haven’t done one thing since you went to bed.” I said half out of my mind. Henry started shaking with laughter.

    “You didn’t just say that. Mama, you didn’t go to bed.” He said sleepily. “You must be excited you’re having Lisa Gomez visit.”

    “I am excited and it would be rude to have someone visit you after 17 years, someone who has asthma and who isn’t exactly a huge animal lover because of allergies and then for them to walk in to dog hair.” I said in a weary voice.

    “Oh Mama, I’m up now. I’ll clean the kitchen.” And he did while I took a hot shower and got ready to pick Gomez up at the airport. It’s amazing what a little make-up can do. When I came back downstairs to pump myself full of caffeine I couldn’t believe the job he’d done. He did love me. I gazed at the shiny counters and looked at my boy standing there so proud. “Mama’s going to have a friend over.” He said in his goofy voice while I hugged him.

     Soon I was off to the airport and Henry took this time to catch up on “Family Guy and “The Simpson’s”. I couldn’t deny he’d earned it. Lisa Gomez had given me strict instructions not to be late. The plane was early. I wondered if this was a test, but no matter I was earlier. She limped into the baggage claim area due to a recent mishap resulting in a broken foot,  I saw her familiar smile. It light up her face, I walked over and hugged her the years instantly melting away. We were together again.

(Henry has fallen in love with the very snuggly Lisa Go-Go Gomez)

March 23rd Neighborhood Watch

(it seemed rude to take Bob's picture)

    On my way home from school today, I stopped to take a peek in at Sir Edward. It took me a few minutes to see him through the trees, but eventually I located him in the far end of his turnout. Just about to take a picture of him I noticed a red truck pull out of one of the nearby driveways, so I decided to postpone my photo op and continue on home. After all, I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself. Driving along, I thought it was funny – strange – not funny “ha-ha” to have someone behind me. It’s not altogether rare to have a car behind me for the first couple of miles after Mt. Baker, but nobody and I mean nobody drives as far as the one lane bridge.  They must be going to Acme was the only explanation.

    Even stranger, and almost going on scary was when I turned up my driveway and the car followed. Instantly, thinking of everything from “In Cold Blood” to did I know this person flew through my head.

    I parked and hopped out of the car and marched over to his car determined to take the offensive. “ Can I help you?” I asked in my best County-get-off-my-flippin’-property- I-have-five-dogs-and-a-gun-tone.

    “Hello. I just wanted to see who you were. I saw you hanging out by our house, and we’ve had some trouble with kids and mailboxes. People getting darn sick of replacing them.”

    “Oh, I was just checking on Sir Edward. I helped get him in a couple of days ago and I just wanted to make sure he was OK.”

    “Yeah, you’re the one who helped my boy. I’m Bob – any way you spell it.” He said with a smile. I laughed. “He was getting out where a branch landed on the fence. I fixed it for them.” He said, his tone changing dramatically. “They’re having quite a bit of trouble, you see. It’s Cancer,  spread to the spine and he can’t work which means he’s probably going to lose his truck which he needs to get to his chemo treatments.”

    “Wow. That’s horrible and AIG is giving out bonuses. They're going to hell.”

    “Yeah. absolutely to hell, these are good people. He's a vet so we're seeing if the V.A. can do anything. We’re trying to help ‘em out, but you know when you came by with the camera, they were worried about you being part of the County. They said they’d start charging $200.00 every time their horse got out. Sorry if I scared you. You don't really see your neighbors much out here, unless something's wrong. Then we're following cars down the road.

    “That’s terrible, my cows have gotten out plenty, I’d never call about something like that." I said reassuringly.

    "Weren't you the family with the hurt coyote a couple years back?" He asked.

    "Yeah, are you guy who came over and took the shot?"

    "That's me. Any the more trouble?"

    "Not with coyote. Seen some cougar."

    "Us too. A while back one of my neighbors had their dog taken right off their porch."

    "Areyoukiddingme? OFF THE PORCH? What kind of dog was it?" I asked incredulously. That kind of chutzpah was frightening.

    "A Spaniel, not big, but not small." He stated.  I didn't know what to say. I didn't want Luther nabbed off the porch. I hoped it wasn't my Karen.

    "Would you to let them know I will be happy to take Sir Edward, if it comes to that.”

    “You sure about that? You know how old he is?”  He asked skeptically.

    “About 20?”

    “I think he’s closer to 23 myself.”

    “Well, I’d take him, he’s a special guy and he deserves to be out to pasture. So if they get to the point where they can’t keep him, I’d sure like to help out. And I looked into it, the Whatcom County Humane Society is offering free hay through the winter to any one who needs it.”

    “He's pretty well fed." He said protectively. "But that’s great. I’ll tell them. I know they’re struggling and they’ve got a lot going on.” He said as the conversation turned to Nebraska. Once a Corn Husker. . .

   

March 19th A Breed Apart

(Lloyd on left and Quackmire - on patrol)

    It’s one thing if my house is a bit messy and I’ve ignored my laundry, it’s another if my barn is dirty. And my barn is dirty. The last time it was cleaned, we put straw down instead of wood shavings; because it was so cold the pile of wood shavings had frozen into a huge wooden lump. Straw is ok in the short term. The animals snack on the bedding when you first put it in and it looks fluffy. However, it isn’t very absorbent and once the little critters start making a mess, you quickly have a thick urine soaked carpet you have to pry apart with a pitchfork. It’s not easy work, but it is relaxing and excellent exercise if you’re on Weight Watchers™. With every heave and ho you feel you're core tightening and your triceps readying themselves for tank tops. I was pleasantly surprised when I came in for a coffee break and the phone rang.

    “Hey, I’m coming out early.” My sister, announced from her cell phone.

    “Uh oh.” I uttered.

    “What? Isn’t today the day you wanted me to help with Anna?” She asked.

    “Yes. But my barn is filthy and I wanted it clean before you got here.” I replied meekly.
(Denise mucks)

    “Don’t be ridiculous, that’s why I’m coming early to help you muck the barn. I have my boots on, Charlie’s with me to play with Irish and I brought chicken patties for lunch, so we can make my version of the Jenny Craig™ chicken sandwich. I just wanted to know since you gave up dairy for Lent if you have any milk for coffee. I’m passing Dodson’s and I’ll stop and get some.” She explained enthusiastically. For being the younger sister, she certainly tries to take care of me since our mother died. She chides me at times and  pushes me into doing things like candling, but honestly without her I'd be lost.

    “I have milk, Henry needs it for cereal, he didn’t give up dairy for Lent. He gave up being a jerk remember?”

    “OK. See you soon.” She hung up and I went back to forking the straw out, trying to get as much done as possible before she arrived.

    On her way out to the barn, she had to navigate the band of bachelor geese and Matilda. Goosed twice by Cleveland, we decided he and Alfred needed to be incarcerated or we’d never get anything done.

    We tried talking over the din of honking flustered geese, but gave up unless we were right next to each other. I felt sorry for Miracle, the goats and my lambs. They are quiet gentle creatures and I couldn’t help but think these maniac geese were probably driving them crazy. Tom would have to help me build an annex for them so his girl, Miracle, could have some peace and quiet. Maybe in the chicken coop or where I planned to put the pig I dreamed of getting.

(Charlie & Winnifred - Lisa's dogs visit the farm)

    The morning flew; the sandwiches were delicious and just as we were about to go back to the barn after our coffee break to join Alexis who’d come by to lend a hand, Becky and Dave Heinlein drove up.

(Alexis takes over while we greet the Heinleins)

(Lloyd and Quackmire help)

    Becky and Dave had contacted me last month about possibly purchasing Anna. They live on Lopez Island in the San Juans and have a self-sustaining farm, growing all their own vegetables, raising chickens for meat and eggs and Romney sheep for fleece and meat. Their missing link is milk, which they hope to satisfy with a Milking Devon.

    I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to sell Anna, but I was open to the possibility. I had a deal in mind. Anna is a bit temperamental. Oh, she’s a great heifer and all, but she isn’t snuggly. Dave and Becky don’t want snuggly. They want a milk cow. So if they like her, they’d need to breed her so she’d come into milk and further, they’d have to breed her every year to keep her in milk. I’d want a calf. I dream of raising a calf like Norman, in “City Slickers”. A real pet. So if the day came when we had a camp, she’d enjoy being pet and touched by kids.

    All of this was racing through my mind as Dave got out of the car. I was amused to see him get out of his truck without a word and change from his good boots to his farm boots. This reminded me of the way Minnesotans live on one lake, but vacation on another. I smiled to myself, these were real farmers a different breed.

(The great boot switch)

    Lisa and I walked up coffee in hand and introduced ourselves.
“I love your hat.” Lisa said as she shook Beckie’s hand, “Did you sheer the wool, dye it, spin it and knit it yourself?”

    “I didn’t spin it.” She answered smiling. And with that we all walked down to the pasture to look at the Devons.
(Beckie & Dave)

    Anna, Abe and Andy saw us and came trotting their bells jingle, jangle jingling as they made their way over from the far end of the pasture. They knew I’d have cookies.
    I explained “I really wanted to give them more attention and train the boys sooner, I just got so busy when I moved here and had so many things to do, that kind of got pushed to the end of the list. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.” I admitted.

    “Who hasn’t? That makes you a farmer.” Beckie assured me. Dave and I climbed into the pasture to handle Anna while Lisa and Beckie chatted by the fence. Anna was on her guard immediately. She knew this fellow with the hat was looking at her a little too intensely and became skittish and flighty.

 (muddy Anna looking wary)

    “This is not a McDonalds moment Anna. Settle down girl.” Lisa explained to her. “I think she’s nervous she’s going to be served with fries.” She laughed as Dave nodded backing up and giving Anna room.

    “Well, she’s got a good top line and her eyes aren’t wild. She likes those cookies.” He said.

    “We just didn’t want pasture cows.” Beckie explained. I knew what she meant - cows that run to the far end of the field when they see you coming. These three weren’t that, rather they’re always curious and under foot.

(Anna a bit more relaxed chewing a cookie)

    “We love the breed and want to help preserve it. But we have to be honest with you, we eat the boys.” Beckie admitted.

    “I think Denise is OK with that, aren’t you?” Lisa said looking to me.

    “Yes, I am. Strangely, since I’ve had the livestock I’ve become more understanding about eating them. I personally, couldn’t eat mine, but it’s the sale and consumption of the animals that sustains the breed. Slow Foods is truly helping keep the rare breeds alive.”

    “It’s true. We just don’t want breeds that take special care, ones that can’t reproduce on their own, can’t forage. That’s why we’re getting Dorkings.” She said. My ears perked up.

    “You’ve found Dorkings? Silver?” I asked excitedly. “I’ve been looking for Silver, but haven’t been able to get any. Where?” I asked and she answered giving me all the chicken particulars.

    “Well,” Dave interjected, “I think this might work. There’s some semen I’m interested in from a bull who broke his leg and just got put down back in Vermont, Cosmo, he produced some fine heifers. If we can work the A.I. (artificial insemination) situation then we’re in business.”

(Andy having a snack)

    “Kulshan Veterinary Clinic is nearby, and I’m certain I can handle that end of things.” Lisa confirmed.

     “If I can just get a copy of her registration papers. We can see how we’ll proceed.” Dave said seemingly making a decision.

    “OK. I can go get them, just a moment.” I offered.

    “You can put your hands on her papers that quickly?” Lisa said with obvious surprise as she knew me too well.

    “Yes. I can.” I said feeling proud of myself as my filing system is certainly not up to snuff, but I do know where the important things are.

    “Great, If we can the A.I. situation handled I’d do it’ I’d like to breed her about June or July so she’d have her calf about this time next year and she’d have some nice grass to raise her calf on, we don’t want her dropping in winter.” He said looking at his watch.

    “I know you’re in a hurry to make the ferry, so if you want to get going I can send the paperwork tomorrow.”

    “That’d be best, thanks for everything.” They said in unison and walked off to put their good boots back on.

(Dave and his boots)

March 17th Light Up My Life

 

(Me -sanding the landing- stairs to the attic apartment)

    I’d done all the research on what to look for when candling goose eggs, I was prepared and anxious, but I waited patiently, which isn't like me, however Henry wanted to be there for the big event. So I sanded the day away trying to get the landing ready for painting.

     Henry had begged Tom into changing his flight so he could have his dad be at just one wrestling match this season. He wanted Tom to see him win. Tom couldn't do anything but comply when he looked into that puppy dog face with the lip jutting out.

    Excited would be an understatement of Henry's fervor. He was amped. Making the disappointment of his first wrestling loss to an eighth grader, six inches taller even more bitter. My boy was beaten by a kid who was all arms and legs, but not with out a struggle. Although the coach said he thought it was a bad call, there was humiliation, embarrassment, a river tears and endless apologies to daddy for letting him down.

    “You didn’t let me down. Sure, I wanted to see you win, but I just wanted to see you wrestle. I love you. Some kid loses every match, you’re not going to win them all.” He said as he grabbed Henry in a choke-hold. “Does this feel familiar?” He said laughing and soon Henry was laughing. Nana took us all for a light St. Patrick's Day dinner of corned beef and cabbage at Skylarks before we headed home to candle.
(Cleveland charging- note T-Rex stance)

(Miracle and Riley watch the action)

    Everything was ready, the box was in place, but I was nervous and on edge. I’d read how the slightest mishap could ruin the air pocket and cause the gosling in the egg to die. I didn’t know if we’d see any cracks, I was supposed to look for cracks. I was concerned we wouldn’t know what we were seeing when we saw it.

   

(empty egg)

    First we checked, Matilda’s eggs. They were cold to the touch and fairly easy to determine whether they had anything at all in them or not. Anything iffy we marked and returned to her nest. Honestly, after looking at the eggs I don't think she'll hatch more than one of her nineteen eggs. We decided to hold off on the Psycho Sitters, Ruthie and Mabel who seem to be pulling each other’s neck feathers out. We’d put almost all the ganders in with them and we didn’t want to deal with the situation while we were learning.

    During the evening, Henry was at times less than careful with the eggs and I have to say, I was perhaps too quick to overreact. I didn't want anything to happen to the eggs and I didn't want Henry to have to feel responsible, but in retrospect I realize my voice tonight was cutting at times, hurtful to a fragile boy of eleven who'd just lost his first wrestling match. Maybe I'm more self-aware it being Lent, I apologized thinking I'd have to work on my tone. I could be softer a more marshmallow less prickly mom-more Clara less Matilda.

  (neck feathers getting taken out)

(some of the eggs we removed)

(so there was no mistake we wrote "gosling" on the good eggs)

(Lloyd roamed about while we worked)

(egg with something)

    This experience was a little like when I was pregnant. I’d read all the books “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” and every other book my friends, my sister, and my mother handed me. But it wasn’t until I was in bed one night when I felt the wiggle, the first flutter. The feeling I’d swallowed a gold fish. It was magical. A life was really inside me. I'd known it, but now I knew it. That’s how it felt today when we checked Clara’s eggs. Up until then, they were just eggs, now they're rare Cotton Patch goslings waiting to hatch.

(Lloyd chastises Henry for taking his baby)

March 16th Let There Be Light

 (The gander gang and - Matilda who has abandoned her nest to be with the guys)

    Lisa, the voice of reason called this morning, “How many eggs do you have? You don’t want to be overwhelmed with goslings Denise.” She said authoritatively.

    “I know I don’t but the truth is some of these geese are trailer trash mothers, they leave they’re nests all day and I don’t think a lot of eggs are going to hatch”.

    “Well, you need to candle them.” She said matter-of-factly.

    “Candle them? I don’t know how to candle them and I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

    “Well, I can get you that or you can look it up yourself, but I think you should do it so you don’t have so many goslings you don’t know what to do.” She insisted.

    “You’re right, I know you’re right. Last Henry checked Matilda had 19 eggs. So much for Tom Walker telling me 10. Clara is the only one who seems to know what she’s doing and she has about 17 and that’s not counting psycho-sitters Ruthie and Mabel. I have no idea how many they have or what’s going on in that nest. Tom Walker says he doesn’t think a two-goose nest will hatch anything because they’ll each instinctively turn them causing the eggs not to stay warm enough.” I said a bit shrilly.

    “Would you say they have about 12?” She asked.

    “Yes. I’d say so.”

    “Denise that’s going on 50 eggs! You need to find out what’s going on. If they have a gosling that’s one thing, but some eggs might not be fertile and you can blow them out and use them for Easter decorations or sell them to crafters. That way maybe they can keep the others warm.”

    “OK. OK. I’ll figure it out.” I said suddenly feeling my Catholic guilt kick in. Was I a bad mother not taking care of the geese? I suppose I should have candled them right away; maybe some wouldn’t live because of my misstep. Nothing I could do about it now.
(The ganders on the prowl)

    Charged by Alfred the moment I walked outside, I informed him, he’d better watch it or he could be looking pretty good for Christmas dinner. Frankly, they are all out of control. My formerly friendly, shy, geese are a raving band of testosterone driven lunatics. I’ve had it with them they’re like a gang roaming the property. They chased Henry into the car while he was trying to clean it out the other day. I hope they return to their formerly mild mannered selves after the hatch but I’m a little nervous.

    I started gathering the items I’d need to candle the eggs. Candling is a simple and age old process. Obviously started with a candle however, today a lamp or flashlight is even more effective. You simply put the egg in front of a piece of cardboard or wood with an egg-sized hole cut out of it. The egg stays on one side and the light shines through from the other side illuminating the egg from the bottom or side. Thereby allowing farmer Jane to see inside the egg. An ancient ultra sound of sorts, which allows you to see the development of the embryo.

The items I needed were 1. Cardboard, 2. Light source, I decided to use the big Costco™ flashlight 3. A pencil to mark the eggs 4. A basket to put the “bad” eggs in.
(the box being wrapped)

    I learned there’s a lot to consider when candling, there are fine cracks, which render an egg useless, and then all the different problems you can have with the yolk. The yolk and the possibility of a double yolk, they do not hatch twins rather they are bad as far as getting a gosling is concerned but can be eaten or discarded. There’s the yolk with blood. This is from what I understand OK. The blood is just a bit from the follicle and is harmless. The “meat” in the yolk is another condition to look for when assessing eggs for consumption or hatching. The “meat” is thought to be part of the follicle itself that was sloughed off when creating the egg, usually this is not hatched or eaten by humans but I hear dogs and cats love ‘em. Next, you have to look for bumpy shells indicating poor calcium and misshapen eggs illustrating a poor air pocket. The air pocket is essential for the chick’s survival. Too big an egg is bad, a round egg is bad and too small an egg is bad. It’s a wonder we have birds at all. But now that I know what I’m looking for I wanted to get it done.

(Tom cutting the hole for the flashlight which will be the bottom of the box)

(Tom with the egg hole illuminated and ready for an egg)

(the candle kit in the dark room - long exposure)

    Tom and I wrapped a box and cut some holes, got the Costco™ flashlight a pencil, a basket and set everything up in the dark little room where the refrigerator is in the barn. We thought the rig was a tad wobbly, we didn’t want to break an egg but with both of us doing it, we felt it would be all right.  All systems were go, until I went to get the first egg out of Matilda’s nest and the flashlight burned out. No other light we had worked so I went back to Lowes™ after being at Home Depot™ already once today to get something to do it properly.   

(Tom sacrifices an extension cord to wire the new candle rig)

(New candle rig)

    By the time Tom got our spiffy new candling rig set up and wired it was time to grain the cows and put the raucous ganders back in the barn. Let me assure you this decided the day. No one wanted to put their hands in the nests of a descendant to the Tyrannosaurus Rex.

    “What’s one more day anyway?” Henry wisely asked.

March 15th Forward And Back

(keeping my mouth shut - was hard to do - I had high fiber oatmeal)

    When Tom’s here it’s always busy because we’re trying to cram in all the things regular families do, plus a bit of home repair and whatever event Tom has actually come in for. In this case, he came for the Washington State Gymnastics meet.

    On this rainy Saturday morning with a freshly laundered uniform and full tummy of succulently sweet carbs in the form of Chai French Toast and plenty of maple syrup acquired from Vermont, not Canada, Henry was ready and we got on the road for Auburn.

    A distinct disadvantage of moving to a new location is your complete lack of experience. For example, when I used to plan a trip somewhere in Los Angeles or thereabouts, I would take surrounding areas and events into consideration. If you were going to go past Dodger Stadium you noted games, if you were going to Santa Barbara you kept beach traffic in the back of your mind. There was never a good time to go to Pasadena or LAX, but you knew when you did and when you didn't want to take the pass or the canyons. However, I know nothing about the freeway driving conditions here. I know simply how many miles my navigational system, Loretta, tells me. So off we go never knowing what we might encounter. In this case, what was supposed to take two hours took three, as “The Family Guy” and “The Simpsons” droned on in the back seat much to Henry's amusement. I hate both these annoying shows and decided this was indeed -my penance. The trip was almost a complete disaster. If the previous competition session (level 5) had not run late and had we not left so early I shudder to think what might have been.

    I tapped my fingers and applied my makeup to remain calm and collected. Outwardly I seemed fine. Inwardly I was in knots. These were the state finals, the kids who qualify go on to compete in the five state Regionals in Bozeman, Montana and this was all my fault. If Henry didn’t qualify because he didn’t get a sufficient warm up or because he was out of sorts I’d have to accept the blame. We knew chances were good he’d make it based on his past performance, but living on a farm teaches you not to count your goose eggs before they’ve hatched – after all some one else might come along and steal your nest.

    Truthfully, I’d wanted to blame the whole thing on Tom. He is always late so it would be entirely believable, but it was in fact my fault and I’d have to shoulder the responsibility. I thought I’d allowed plenty of time, but as we sat there in the equivalent of a Los Angeles “Sig” alert – at a complete stand still – I realized I had not factored in any extra disaster time my scheduling was way off. Me who is way past Easter and is already planning Thanksgiving was way off.
(This is the United States? Can you imagine if they flew the Mexican flag at every event in California?)

(Henry with Jesse behind him has his game face on)

(winner's podiums)

    In the end, Henry did qualify. While he didn’t have his best meet this season, he did achieve his personal best this year on the rings. He got hammered by the floor judge for “muscling” through some moves he should be able to achieve with momentum and flexibility, something he’s going to work on.

    This snowy Sunday was spent working on the room. Alexis screwed in drywall and Tom applied mud like he was frosting a cake. Henry sanded. I went to Home Depot™ reduced to errand girl once again now that the head pastry chef was in the kitchen. I say it like it bugs me, but actually It doesn’t. Vivian and I went on a ride; I chatted on the phone with my weekend minutes, entered a sweepstakes after answering a customer satisfaction survey and earned a Diet Coke™ for my trouble plus a chance to win $5000.00. Who knows? – Mama needs new pair of solid core doors. While I was there, I looked at the employees working at Home Depot™ wondering what they had that I didn’t have, besides a job of course. Why hadn’t I been chosen? What was wrong with my interview? It wasn’t’ a lack of persistence I assure you. So I’m going to blame it on Diane Keaton being overqualified in “Mad Money” ruining it for the rest of us by stealing bazillions of dollars. I’ve already taken the blame for the state meet.

  
(breakfast and lunch fixin's and the ever present power tools)

(Tom works)

(Vivian helps -)

(Alexis attempts to straighten out my pathetic linen closet)
(good to go- ready for the sand storm)

    Tom does most of the cooking when he’s in town, and tonight was no exception. He made his father’s barbecue chicken recipe in between Scrabble™ moves. The only problem with Tom’s cooking is the hour at which it is served. It seems Tom believes we should eat at a very European 9:30PM at the earliest. I’m not complaining – his food, is worth the wait especially his father’s chicken which is always my favorite; I could eat the sauce with a spoon.

(ready to grill)

    We invited Alexis to dinner and all sat around drinking wine listening to how Tom’s mother killed a chicken with one hand when he was young and how he never wanted to cross her afterwards, we made plans for future fence projects, talked dreamily of stair runners all in between bites of yam doused in balsamic vinegar and grilled asparagus. On a whim, I asked Henry what he’d learned from the State meet, fully expecting something like “Don’t trust your mother to get you there on time”. So I was taken off guard with, “Well, I learned I need to try harder. In the summer, I didn’t listen when you told me it would affect me later. And I didn’t like it. I’m really going to work this summer and take my workouts seriously so I don’t feel like this next year. I looked at those boys who won and I knew they’d worked harder than me, not that they were better than me. Uhh, Mom, can I watch “The Simpsons” after dinner?” Two steps forward – one back.

March 13th All Creatures Great & Small

(Spring is in the air)

    There’s a time for everything. When you’re in you’re twenties people start getting married. Suddenly, you get wedding announcement and invitations galore. I went to thirteen weddings in one year. I went to my roommate June’s wedding in the morning and my friend Valerie’s wedding two hours away in the evening. There was a lot of celebrating during those times.

(Jaxon "Fireball" Roberts - Henry's cousin- Doug's first born)

    Next, came the babies and with the babies came the showers, the shower games, christenings and the brisses. After that kindergarten, little league, cheerleading and sadly sometimes divorce. New marriages, bankruptcies, promotions and fresh starts.

(Lisa, "Go-Go" Gomez Berger and her daughter, Lindsey)

    So when you get a note from a friend that says “Linda’s new baby, introducing Ezra only two hours old”, most people know what to expect. Unless, you live on a farm and the note is from Maryruth.

Then the time for celebrating is every spring, as new life begins.

(Ezra - son of Linda)

(Ezra looking at the world)

(Ezra gets a sniff)

(Ezra meets the herd)

(Ezra getting his legs under him)

    As for my friend, Sir Edward, he too seems to be living on. I spoke with his owner just to check on him and perhaps despite practicality, I was going to offer to take him. Tom who is always concerned about not being able to afford new animals and who is always worried that we need to take better care of the ones we already have before we add more was suddenly constructing places to keep him in his mind. I heard his “Do you think he’d get along with the Devon’s? We can’t just walk away.”  And they say I’m the soft touch.

     Henry asked, “Does this mean he’s a goner?" I was consumed with guilt.

     As luck would have it, she can’t seem to bring herself to put him down. She says she’s had a change of heart, she loves him too much. I’ll keep stopping by, just in case.

(Sir Edward - living life)

   

 

    

March 12th Happy Landing

(Irish can't resist my light-up hula hoop- Bruno looks on with admiration)

    I'm planning on having guests this summer. My friend Go-Go, Henry's Godfather, Joe and maybe Sam and Kimona might be back and while most people pull out a mop and call it a day, I drywall. paint and hang curtains to prepare for company.

    Alexis and I have been scraping wallpaper and solving life’s mysteries. We’ve scored the top vinyl coated wallpaper soaked it with a dripping roller full of DIF™ wallpaper remover and then scraped and scraped and scraped and scraped. For hours. Every once in a while one of us will get a really good eight inch piece off.

(wallpapers - missing companion piece and chair rail)

    “Oooh, that’s a good one.” Alexis crooned in appreciation as I pulled a generous piece off the wall. We’d gotten discouraged after our initial fast start, but we chatted and the time passed. Stopping was not an option, Tom is coming in just another day and he wants to be able to work his drywall-mud-magic on this room and Mr. Persnickety wants it ready.

    “Do we have to have every piece off the wall?” I inquired over the phone.

    “Well, I can get it off.” He said dryly.

    “No. It’ll be done. I was just wondering if every single little snippet needs to be off?”

    “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it when I get there.” He reassured me.

    “That’s not what I asked,” suddenly and completely annoyed. “I don’t want you to waste your time doing this. I’m unskilled labor and I should be doing it, I just wanted to know when enough is enough. I mean I know you’re going to do a skim coat over the whole wall.”

(note I do own a filing cabinet and more importantly my "That Girl" lunch box)

(strange narrow built in bookcase - my bedroom door and the blue bathroom we just did - I know we need new better doors - I know!)
(top of strange narrow built in bookcase and hole in ceiling where I ripped down a stupid wall that didn't belong)

     (cardboard wall under wallpaper under green paint under the glued on wood strips that formed a trim)

(bruno helps?)

(tiny pieces at a time)

“I don't know, I can't see it like you can. But if you don’t…” I knew where this was going,

    “do it right, it’s not worth doing. Yeah. I know.” I said rolling my eyes. I knew he was right and irked me I wanted to hear it didn't matter. But it annoyed me to hear I had more work to do.

    “You don’t have to get so mad.”  He said in his velvety-calm-Denise-down-voice.

    “I’m not mad, I’m just over-tired and frustrated. I’ll get it done.” I took a deep breath and let it out audibly.

    This room is going to make a big difference in my life. It’s the landing at the top of the stairs, one of the central points of the house. I’m not a big Feng Shui person, but this is the ultimate in anti-flow. It’s one of the last bastions of the old Marriott regime. It had the usual three different papers. One above the chair rail, one below and a companion trim piece at the top of the wall. The paper had been put directly on the bare drywall, I guess as a money saving measure. This way they didn’t have to apply drywall mud to the unfinished wall. The problem now is the paper has adhered to the outer layer of the drywall and has seeped into it in parts. Alexis and I had to gouge the walls to get it off, but it was coming off come hell or high water. And who knows out here, which will come first.

    The weather has been strange, double-Dutch freezing in the morning, which means no water every other day or so. The afternoons are sunny and warm meaning the water flows by mid-day. This just requires planning.

    “Remember to make your coffee at night.” Sage advice from my sister.
Alexis and I are nearing completion of phase one. Most of the paper is off. The laundry still isn’t done and my hands are sore. My muscles ache from trying to do too many push-ups and scraping stubborn scraps above my head. Alexis, the invaluable, has enlightened me on all sorts of philosophical teachings, started me on a new skin care program and has been filling in the gaping holes in the walls with spare pieces of drywall so it’ll be ready for Inspector 12.

   

(close to same shot as with the blue paper in the beginning - getting better - no holes!)

    

March 10th Mr. Ed

(horse on road)

    I haven’t disobeyed lately. I’ve towed the line. I haven’t gone looking for any extra animals, but as we were driving home from school, there he was.  I stopped and as luck would have it I happened to have a lead rope in the car. Getting out quietly, I stood in the road and called. “Hey Sweetie. Come here now.”

    He looked up turned his head, perked his ears and began cantering toward me.

(listening)

(coming to me!)

(cutie)

    “Mom! It’s like he knows you.” Henry called out the window.

    He stopped in front of me breathing heavily. We stood there looking at each other sizing each other up. Carefully, I inched closer with the lead rope in my hand and stroked his face. I reached my arms around his neck. As I leaned in, I could feel the heat of his body. He was warm and sweaty breathing hard. I just about had the lead rope clipped when he decided he’d had enough and bolted. Trotting off to the pasture down the road. I didn’t follow. I couldn’t keep up with a horse and I didn’t want to spook him into running somewhere unsafe. So I gave up.

    I didn’t think another thing about it until this morning. As we drove to school, I glanced over and saw him again. Standing out in the same open pasture he’d run to the other day. I knew he didn’t belong there. I wanted to stop and talk to him, but we were late for school it was snowing like crazy and the roads were icy, truly I didn’t have time to chase a horse. On rare occasions, I can be sensible.

    Turning back onto Mosquito Lake Road after dropping Henry off, I called Alexis so I had a safety net since the snow was getting deep.

(Mosquito Lake Road)

    “If I’m not home in thirty minutes I’m stuck come find me.”

    “I’ll be there.” Alexis promised. Driving slowly, I made my way toward home. And there he was standing on someone’s front lawn. I stopped in the middle of the road. Seeing a man I called,

     “Is that your horse?”

    “Nope. This is my parents’ house.”

    “I’ve got a lead rope.” I got out of the car. Walked up to my friend and this time he allowed me to slip my lead rope around his neck. We eyed each other. I wanted to snuggle him, but self-conscious I let the man take charge. After all, I hadn’t been properly introduced.

(on the way home)

    “I think he may belong down here.” He called over his shoulder as we started walking down the road. “Hey!” He called to someone I couldn’t see. “Is this yours?”

    “Yes, he’s mine. He keeps getting out, but I can’t figure out where. I’m supposed to have him put to sleep.”

    “What’s his name?” I asked meekly at the news my friend was scheduled for departure.

    “Sir Edward, he’s twenty. He keeps wandering off over by those fillies down the road.”

    “He’s sweet.”  I murmured thinking he had a lot of ride left in him.

(Sir Edward at home)

    “You want him?” She asked in an animated pitch. “Really. He’s yours if you want him.” I wanted him. He reminded me of a horse from so many years ago. Kentucky a big apple bottom Quarter horse who used to lie in his stall with me on rainy days. Kentucky was my "Black", a bombproof horse with the personality of a basset hound. I loved him.

    My sister was the real rider in the family. She showed, jumped, groomed, braided and did everything there was to do with horses. Her life for many years was at the barn. Me, I rode, but I was a competitive vaulter on the Hidden Hills Equestrian Vaulting team. It’s a little known sport where gymnastics meets trick riding. As a team, we did a demonstration for the Los Angeles Olympics – and it used to be included in the Olympics back in the twenties.

(Here's a sample of equestrian vaulting)

 

I liked horses and riding, but I didn’t live for horses or riding. Yet, every once in a while I loved a horse. I could feel the connection between Sir Edward and me. I hadn’t looked for love, but there it was in front of me with big brown eyes and long eye lashes looking right through me.
(Sir Edward)

    “Well, I’ve got to get going, my car is still in the middle of the road.” I said taking my lead rope.

    “Where do you live?” She asked.

    “The old Marriott place.” I said as if everyone knew where that was.

    “Oh, yeah. OK.” She said nodding because everyone knows where that is. “Thanks for your help. Hopefully, he won’t be a problem for much longer.” She said with a laugh.

    “No problem.” I said walking away with a hurt heart. I’d call Lisa she’d tell me I couldn’t afford him, but she’d have an idea.

 

March 8th The Sting

   

(Learning the power of the plural "s")

    Suddenly, Henry has a new addiction, Scrabble™. Lisa loaned him “Akeelah And The Bee” and he was mesmerized by the kids ability to create words and has been bugging me every two minutes since to play with him. First, we played on the Scrabble™ board then we played a three-way game with Go-Go online, then he played a girl from the gym and that’s when he started winning. Oh, he’d had some good moves before then, some training during our games, but no more help. He’s on his own. Clearing his tray and getting 50-point bonuses he’s putting “J” on the triple letter and playing an “H” to make “AHI” and two other words. He’s out of control. In fact, he made me stay up way past my bedtime poking me to keep me playing so he could win. He played “L-I-M-N”

    “That’s not a word.” I accused him sleepily.

    “Sure it is, they played it in the movie.” He assured me. That’s how he is. He’d studied the movie words.

    In the morning, after we’d done laundry and he’d cleaned the toilets, he went outside to see if he could sucker Alexis into a game. Alexis acquiesced. Figuring the kid was eleven-years-old, Alexis went a little easy on him, a fatal mistake. One Tom and I would never make. He came out “M’s” a blazing. Poor, kind Alexis, who simply wanted to be generous to a kid, was annihilated.

(Alexis and Henry study the board)

(Luther didn't find the game as riveting)

(Deli clowning for the camera?)

    Henry walked through the kitchen when I was on the phone with Tom. “Mama, I love playing Alexis. I own him.”

    “Henry!” I admonished his chortling but as soon as he turned the corner I proudly told Tom of Henry’s prowess.

    “Quail on the triple? Nicccce! When he starts playing competitively he's all Maryruth's. We're done” was the equally proud papa’s reply.

    There was a brief intermission between games. We all went outside, Alexis chopped wood, I gathered up branches and sundry junk that appears around the yard mysteriously. Henry took Mike’s machete and chopped stuff. I’m not exactly sure what good it did, but he seemed to really enjoy it so I let it go.

(Henry and Alexis play)

(tuning uup the chainsaw)

(Out in the county we burn stuff)

(Henry looking a little scary with his hood down cutting)

(warm and toasty on a cold winter day)

    We reconvened for the evening’s grudge match. With our piping hot bowls of my Weight Watchers™ chili Alexis and I settled in each with a glass of Merlot ready to face our opponent. Henry pulled ahead quickly with “CENTERED” clearing his tray but just missing the triple. After that he was pretty confident, until Mama played “MEXICAN” adding on to a couple other words for 98 points.

(the board)

    “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” My chagrined son chanted. I was flattered. It seems the Mama’s still got “I-T”.

March 7th Made For Walkin'

   

(One of the ads my partner Julie and I created while we were at Wiley & Associates)

     “Are you coming in to watch?” Henry asked as I pulled into the Mt. Baker Gymnastics parking lot.

    “I am, but first I’m going for a pedicure.” I announced.

    “What’s wrong Mama? Did something bad happen?” Henry knew a pedicure is my answer to all things bad.

    “I had a bad day. I just need a little something. Don’t worry, I’ll be back later.” We waved good-bye and off I went for my little vacation.

    I picked out my color and nodded to the woman who showed me back to the sauna chairs. The water was tepid so I selfishly asked for it to be warmed up. I wanted hot, hot, hot, I was ready to really enjoy this.

        There were a dozen different reasons why I was here ranging from a rogue tax fee no one has been able to explain sufficiently to the missing income from an empty attic apartment. On the flip side I was celebrating another pound and a half loss at my Weight Watcher weigh in and the camp scholarship Henry was awarded this week. I sank into my chair and grabbed the magazine equivalent of chewing gum, eyeing lipstick shades, moisturizers and strappy sandals. (Another Julie and Denise ad in the Orly campaign)

    I started halfway through an article about women deciding to change one thing in their lives for the better not for a year, but just for a single month. One woman decided to call her mother every day. Another wanted to eat vegetables and yet another woman decided to do 10 push ups a day. This caught my attention. She said how she used to be a trainer and had long held beliefs about a commitment to fitness, but her life had changed and her all or nothing attitude wasn’t helping her waist line. I thought of doing ten push ups a day in my jammies. I could commit to that. Why not? In fact, I’m strong I knew I could do more a lot more, but I thought I'd keep the bar low for now.

(Yet another Orly ad from the stylings of Denise and Julie)

    Soon I was lost in thought wondering how long it would take me to be tank top ready. As I relaxed my friend, Go-Go’s words came flooding back to me. You see, recently she mentioned I was surprisingly forthcoming about my lack of finances. My analytical Virgo side took over and short orderI was dissecting my frankness. After mulling this over during the foot massage, I decided it’s because although I have a distinct lack of funds, I don’t feel poor. I don’t think poor. I guess don’t let my checking account define me. I tell myself often enough that Howard Hughes and Donald Trump have gained and lost many a fortune. I remind myself Hilary Swank was from Bellingham and she lived in her car before she was an overnight sensation. Heck if we had to live in the car at least we have seat heat and TV. I closed my eyes and let the hot water wash my puny financial troubles away. No one is sick.

(happy toes make for a happy girl - toe ring barely noticeable)

    All too soon it was time for the polish. As I watched the woman who spoke very little English transform my toes into works of art, I realized whatever my problems, my toes looked spectacular. My toe ring gleamed as I slipped into the little yellow foam sandals. I have a new attitude which means I’m ready for push-ups which means I’ll lose more weight which means I'll get new clothes which means I’ll feel more confident which means I’ll get a job.

March 4th Driving Me Crazy

 

(last chance fast food)

  It was an innocent request. “Mom can we stop for something to eat?” I slipped into the last chance Dairy Queen™ before turning onto the dark and windy 9. Henry ordered a mushroom burger. I was a little surprised as he usually orders the yucky chicken strips.

(ready to order)

(Henry gets ready)

    “The Donaldson girls are weirdos. I mean they don’t like mushrooms. I mean not liking mushrooms is like a sin. Right?” He said pausing and then in almost hysterical he asked “Is today Friday?”
“No. Relax you can eat meat. It’s Wednesday.”

    “Hmm, this smells delicious.” It did. The smell of tangy mushrooms and flame grilled beef mixed with the perfume of a toasted bun mingled in the air. Yet, the bag sat unopened as we drove.

(juicy mushroom burger with melted gooey swiss product)

    ‘Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.’ I chanted over and over in my mind. But the hamburger remained in the bag taunting me. I don’t know what was happening to me, but I felt myself transforming. I couldn’t see the bag, but I could sense it like a predator. The slightest sound of rustling caught my attention like a homing devise. And as the bag rustled, my mouth began to salivate and every fiber of my body wanted that burger. “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” I thought again trying desperately to remain composed.

    “Honey, why don’t you eat your burger before it gets cold.” I said mildly, not wanting to alarm the child who apparently did not know he was in peril.

(Henry bites)

    I took a deep breath and inhaled the luscious aroma. I felt like a vampire sensing prey. Rustling of the foil wrapper caught my attention like a wild animal looking for food. Henry and his burger were just like a gazelle darting about near a watering hole. Just one juicy bite. Could one bite hurt? I would have the element of surprise. He wouldn’t even know what happened. “What you bite you write” is the Weight Watchers™ mantra and I really didn’t want to put down mushroom burger. I gripped the steering wheel, my palms clammy, my eyes focused on the road.

    The temptation was too much. I glanced over to see Henry licking his finger as he wiped up the gooey drippings. I was almost ready to rip my child’s dinner right out of his hand and yet I asked “Do you like it?” Hoping against hope he somehow found it repulsive and I’d have to keep him from wasting food. After all there are starving people all over the world.

(Henry licks the evidence)

    “It’s great! I’ve almost finished the whole thing, I only have one more bite.” He announced just before shoving it in his mouth. He looked over at me and read my face. “Oh, did you want some?” He asked apologetically.

    “No. I’m fine."

March 3rd In A Pickle

  

  (An age old question comes to mind? How many Kosher dills does one home need?)

    Wayne was on his way and I sent Henry to Lisa’s for a couple of days to be with the girls so I was literally home alone. Well, except for three cats, five dogs, four goats, eight geese, three cows, four lambs and an ass. No. I didn’t mean Alexis.

    I felt sneaky and free. I could do anything I wanted. I sat for a moment and wondered what I wanted? I thought about wine, but as Tom says I’ve become the Weight Watcher™ "nazi" and I really didn’t have the points left so I opted for celebratory diet root beer, some fat-free Cool Whip™ and started cleaning the house. I stayed up late talking on the phone while I sorted clothes. With carefree abandon I took risks tossing out the old to make room for the new and I loved it.

(Luther helps clean)

(The pink gloves Teresa gave me for Christmas- despite her cold heart at the gift exchange)

    Pleased with my progress, I cleaned the house for the next two days. Now I wasn't just cleaning the house, I was Spring Cleaning the house. My hair in a sloppy stay-at-home-ponytail, I stayed in my pink pajamas all day. I shoved a wad of  gum in my mouth. The truth is I am a completely rude gum-chewing fiend. I never chew gum in public, as I am an obnoxiously loud gum-snapping girl. My father was constantly yelling to "Spit that out!" my mother simply screamed "I can't take it. But my grandmother, Irene and her sister my great aunt Leone used to say every time they saw me.

The gum-chewing girl
And the cud-chewing cow
What’s the difference?
I see it now,
The thoughtful look
In the eye of the cow

  And so to honor them, I don’t chew except in the car or at home when no one except for extraordinarily close and loving friends or minors can hear me crackle & pop.

(laundry helpers- keeping the comforter from running away)

(some don't help)

    Snapping away I blew bubbles and swept, cleaned out the refrigerator and found my German Zen.  I sorted through papers, beat throw rugs over the porch railing and opened the windows to let the cold crisp winter air inside. I washed Henry’s sheets, organized his closet, dumped the cat box and scrubbed the toilets. It felt exhilarating.

    Still with so much more to do I went outside to spend some time with Miracle. Alexis and I let her out of her pen after stringing a rope across the driveway and tying rags over it so she wouldn’t get tangled. She really doesn’t want to stray, but I didn’t want her doing an Irish.
(Miracle's makeshift  barrier)

(Miracle has some girl time)

(more snuggles)

(peek-a-boo)

(goofin' around - Miracle the Wonder Donkey)

    I lay down on the soft grass and she snuggled with me for while giving me tickling donkey kisses. Knowing time was growing short, I set back to work after my break. Henry’s room needed a mopping after the vacuuming so I carried up some rags, a bucket and got down on my hands and knees. I’d just finished when I heard Alexis outside. So I opened Henry’s window and stepped onto the roof for a brief chat.

  (Alexis down below l)

(Alexis captures the moment with Denise looking stunning in her cleaning ensemble with her hair styled to suit the occasion-  mopping)

He’d been sawing wood. We were each going back to work when I saw a dog race down the road right behind Alexis. I called to it and it stopped. Alexis and I looked at each other, there weren’t any dogs around here like that. So we called again and sure enough she came to us very happy to be rescued. She was a cuddle-bug with the strangest transmitter system I’ve ever seen strapped around her neck. We put her in the dog pen by the shop, gave her food and water and called her owner who from his answering machine wasn’t a really chatty fellow.

(Girl is hungry after her adventure with her uber-tracking system and phone numbers)

(Girl making herself comfortable)

    He called back several hours later telling us her name was “Girl” – no real surprise, I hadn’t surmised he was the real creative type. According to him she’d been missing for about five days. She’d gotten lost “Coon” hunting and he’d lost her in the forest. He was going to go out to dinner and then make his way out to our place. OK so not everyone’s as attached to their dogs as I am. I don’t know what business I had having an opinion, in the process of all of this Miss Deli Ann had gotten out again and was chasing various quarry all over the mountain.

    When I got home with Henry, Girl had gone. She'd spent most of her evening there lounging on the sofa with Alexis in his place. So when her owner came, Girl didn’t really want to leave. In fact, she took a good deal of coaxing. I was kind of sad to see her go, because I could have seen Alexis and “Girl” getting along just fine.

    We got to the front door grocery bags in hand and gumballs in mouth, I noticed the porch needed a good scrub and tidying until I could paint it. And there was Deli blending into the shadows languishing on the sofa - back from the hunt. We were all home again, home again jiggity-jig.

March 1st A Pretty Penny

 

(you never know where your path is going to lead)

    As the snow melts, the one thing that stays the same, is that nothing stays the same. Today is the day Wayne is leaving us. Hard economic times have hit everywhere and Wayne has to go where the jobs are. Until yesterday afternoon, he didn’t know where he was going as he had two job offers. Either it was going to be San Diego, California or somewhere in Maryland. His nephews sent a couple of emails from  the East Coast trying to tip the scales in their favor. Ultimately, the familial pressure won out over sun drenched bikes paths and bikinis.

(strange Maryland coincidence)

(Henry with his socks pulled up and Wayne's sleeping tent all set up in the back ready for a quick rest stop)

(Wayne's nest)

Everything was about cleared out when Brian arrived to help Wayne with the odds and ends. When you’re packing, the last box it feels like ten boxes. You fill it full of odds and ends that are a mix of really important things you don’t want to pack and the completely useless stuff you should probably throw away.

(Brian and Wayne finish up)

During the final loading of the Uhaul™, all 5 of my dogs were worked up into a complete frenzy. Irish was howling like a lovesick puppy. I couldn’t figure out what the problem was until I saw her. She was a sleek raven-haired beauty named Penny.

(Penny the springy, shy Great Dane)

After everything was ready to go, Wayne let Irish out of the yard and he went flying to her side. What Irish didn’t know was Penny is part gazelle. When he’d get within a foot or so, she’d fly. He was stunned. He couldn’t keep up with her because of the accident, his bum leg just doesn't work the same, but he didn’t mind, he was completely smitten. Wayne, Brian, Henry, Irish, Penny, Abby and I walked to the pond one final time marveling at how much of the pond we'd lost and how it had been transformed by the slide.

(Irish follows Penny)

(Penny jumps)

(Irish is goosed as Penny looks on)

  (Irish after his girl - Penny playing hard to get)

(Penny has a drinking problem)

(Wayne throws snowballs for the dogs, Penny, Abby and Irish)

(Abby snow dog)
(Penny as tall as Irish)

(Penny leaps- Irish follows)

(Irish with his girl)

(Alexis gets a kiss from heart-throb, Penny- Brian has promised to bring Penny by for Irish to play with)

Wayne loaded up his truck and hugged us all, tears welling up in his eyes as he warned Henry to behave and be strong.

    "I'll be checking on you and I'll be back for Whistler." He promised. We all got tearful as we waved good-bye, knowing he was done healing here and ready to move on to greener pastures.
(Wayne headed home to his family - we'll worry until he gets there safely)