Pottery class - July 28, 2024

I bet you're wondering how yesterday's "Introduction to the Potter's Wheel" class went.

It was fun.  

It was taught by a perky little blonde girl about 1/3 of my age, who knew her stuff.

There were about 10 other people in the class.  Each of us took a station at a potter's wheel.  We were given a bucket of water, some sponges, a tool, and three lumps of pre-conditioned clay that were already centered on square tiles that fit onto pegs on the wheel.  We were to make (1) a bowl, (2) a plate, and (3) a "do-you-own-thing."  The class lasted for 2 hours, after which we cleaned our stations, buckets, and sponges, and we chose a color to glaze our pieces, which will be fired and ready for pickup in a couple of weeks.

Working with the clay was fun.  I made two bowls and a saucer to fit under one of the bowls.  I meant to poke drainage holes in one bowl, intending to use it with the saucer for growing violets.  But I forgot to poke the holes.  It's no big deal.  (None of the violets on my windowsill are in pots that have holes in them.)    

While I was in the big city before class, I stopped by the art supply store for a paintbrush and to see if they sell watercolor paints in half-pans.  My new travel paints came in 12 colors from which, theoretically, I could stir up pretty much any color under the sun.  

I wished the set had included Payne's Gray instead of black.  They didn't sell watercolors in pans, but they did sell empty half-pans.  I have Payne's Gray in a tube, which I can squirt into an empty pan.  I bought 6 of them, hoping they'd drop right into the tin.  And they did!  (Kind of.)  So, this morning, I added a few of my go-to colors:

I guess I should leave the lid open until the squirts dry up.  Considering the current humidity level here, that may take a month!

Saturday - July 27, 2024

It's raining this morning.  We've had scattered rain all week, really, but earlier in the week when I checked on the vegetable garden, the ground was dry enough to walk on without getting muddy.  It's probably muddy now, though.  That's okay, for I did not plan on working in the garden today.  

This afternoon, I'm having an "introduction to the pottery wheel" lesson.  Birthday present from The Husband (along with new seat covers for the Wrangler).  I'm excited!  

Until then, I am going to play with a new set of paints I got in the mail this week.  Folded shut, it's about the size of a cell phone.  Inside there are 12 half-pans of paints and a metal flap that folds out for a mixing tray (the lid has mixing space, too).  It is small enough to hold in one hand while painting with the other.  And the colors are good.  It lacks a brown, but brown can be made from almost anything.

Last night's "band blowout" was fun.  The rain held off long enough for the band do its thing.  Got to see all of The Granddaughters.  

GRRRRRRowl - July 26, 2024

I am tired, and hungry, and still a little bit pissed off about work.  "Hungry" will go away in about an hour, when The Husband gets home from work and we head to the margarita joint.  We'll have to eat and run to make it to Granddaughter #2's high school marching band show preview.  The bed is turned down, the coffee pot is set to come on in the morning, and I'll be ready to hit the sack as soon as we're home.

At work this morning, I busted open Year 11 and sent workers to bring the next year.  They came down with from the attic with Year 12, but also with more boxes from past years that I'd thought were finished.  I gave the crew a mild butt-chewing.  When the lead guy explained that some of the boxes were turned to the wall and they couldn't see the labels, my head almost exploded.  "Well, go up there and TURN THE SONSABITCHES AROUND," I told him.

Good grief.

Hydrangea Cuttings - July 25, 2024

Today, I started three hydrangea cuttings from my old blue mop-head hydrangea.  Three stems, cut from this year's growth, stuck in a plastic 6" pot full of soil.  Until they root (let's be optimistic), they will live on the back porch, where I can see them and remember to water them.  Looking at them now, I wonder if I've left too much stem and too many leaves.  

If - ahem- when they root, I will plant them on the north side of the shed.

Hydrangeas are supposed to be the easiest things in the world to root from cuttings.  "Why, all you have to do is pull a low limb down to the ground and lay a brick on it," a friend said.

Yeah.  Did that.  It didn't survive.

A couple of years ago, I stuck a hydrangea limb in the ground.  It lived for 2 seasons, but the past two winters took it out.  

That same year, I started about 24 cuttings in solo cups.  Some acted like they were going to make it.  Come cold weather, on the advice of a professional, I set the cups on the ground and covered them with heaps and heaps of leaves.  When I dug them out in the spring, none were alive.

So I've been buying hydrangeas for the past couple of years. So far, so good.  

The local greenhouse is having a sale right now.  I'll probably end up buying 3 hydrangeas to plant beside the shed, if I can they have blue mopheads.  

Fish or Cut Bait - July 24, 2024

We're having leftovers for supper, so I have from now (4:30 pm) until bedtime to do what I want.  The garden is on auto-pilot for a few days.  

I want to do a dozen different things, and even have the supplies to do most of them. 

Now, if I just had the gumption to do them.

I should take the three 5-gallon buckets that are currently in the back of my car, driving me crazy with their rattling, to the garden shed.  First, I need to put my name on them, for 5-gallon buckets have a way of disappearing around here, and nobody knows anything about where they went ("Naw, that's my bucket.")  Evidently, it is a man thing.  So I bought bright red, easily identifiable buckets, and I will summon Towanda if I catch somebody with one of them.

* * * * * * * 

Okay, so I've spent two hours of my "do what I want time."   Took the buckets to the garden shed and checked on the crops.  Killed a tomato worm.  Picked squash, cucumbers, and peppers, which I will drop into the food pantry drop-off cooler at the community garden on my way to work tomorrow.  Incurred a good dozen mosquito bites.  Came home.  Showered.

Now what?

On the way to the garden, I found a new set of watercolor paints in my mailbox.  Maybe I'll swatch them and try them out.

  

Sore - July 23, 2024

OMG...I am so sore.

The past weekend's cooler temperatures had me working in the yard and the garden all day Saturday and again Sunday morning. Physical stuff, like digging hard ground with a big shovel.  My thigh muscles, front and back, are on fire.  Walking isn't too bad, but sitting down and getting up are torture.

It rained here at home last night and also in the community garden.  Both gardens needed it.  Thankfully, both gardens are now in pretty good shape, as far as maintenance goes.

I un-boxed Year 10 today, and sorted it into A-B-C piles. It'll take 2 days to alphabetize it all.  Year 11 is in my workspace, ready to be tackled Friday.   

Squash and pumpkins - July 21, 2024

As soon as Nanny left for church this morning, I went to the garden to plant two pumpkins - one that produces pumpkins for carving, and one that produces mini pumpkins  - that I sprouted from seeds.  They've been on our patio table for a month and have come close to croaking more than once.  Maybe they'll live in the ground. 

I also planted 4 more hills of squash.  Our first 4 squash hills are producing as much squash as we want to eat, but they'll probably be pooping out soon, either from bugs or exhaustion.  

[Note to self:  check for squash bugs tomorrow.]

Once everything was planted and watered in, I started raking up some of the grass I mowed yesterday.  While I was raking, The Brother-in-Law showed up on his race-car-like zero-turn lawnmower and went to work in the front.

I must stay that "The BIL" was doing a better job of mowing than I did, depending on how you look at grass.  You might have seen the post in which I told about The Husband and I putting the deck back on our riding lawnmower after installing new blades.  Evidently, we did not get the deck level, for it's cutting wedge-like strips that nearly peel the ground on one side and leave it taller on the others.  This is not very attractive.  However, I hadn't mowed for looks; I'd mowed to (hopefully) scatter some chiggers out of the grass between Nanny's back porch and the garden.

And I'd left an un-mowed section in front of the shed where my lawnmower ran out of gas and I said f it.

The BIL can be a lot of fun, but he can also be a grouchy asshole.  We get along because neither of us minds telling the other how it is.

I heard him grousing (above the noise of the lawnmower) when he saw the striped back yard.  Aw, hell, she done f___d up the grass.  He whirled his lawnmower around and went to the side yard, where I'd left the un-mowed square.  WTF!  What made it even better was that center of the un-mowed square contained about five tall, dusty mole hills, and I'd left the dirt bath for him to enjoy. (He repaid me by thoroughly dusting my car.)

Now, I had not mowed the section of the back yard that's behind the vegetable garden, so I got his attention and pointed and said, "I didn't mow back there."

"I'm damn sure glad you didn't!" he said.

I rolled my eyes and shot him the bird and came home to sit under the fan on the back porch.

I've been wanting to paint all day.  Did some sketching but haven't wet a brush.  

And now it's almost time to start supper.

Red beans & rice and cornbread.

  

Butterbeans planted - July 20, 2024

The Husband and I went to the garden about 9 this morning to erect a fence for the pole butterbeans.  We used T-posts and chicken wire, raising the chicken wire high enough off the ground to get a hoe under it for future weeding.  

But the butterbean seeds I ordered last week had not arrived, so we couldn't plant. 

We left the garden about noon, and I came straight home and checked my email from the seed company to see when the seeds would arrive.  The "track package" link sent me to a generic page that said the seeds would be shipped sometime in September.

Oh, heck no!

I called the company.  The dude checked the order and said they were on their way and should arrive within a day or two.  Whew.  Those butterbeans take 88 days to mature.  We're cutting it close.

We ate some lunch, then The Husband went to get diesel for the tractor so he could cut Nanny's front field.  While he was gone, I planted the paniculata hydrangea I bought last week and mostly forgot about.  As I was coming around the house to fill a watering can from the hydrant, a FedEx truck was backing into our driveway.  The driver said, "I come bearing gifts!"  

"That's my butterbean seeds!"

"Butterbeans?" he said.  "MMMMM...I LOVE BUTTERBEANS!"

"Me, too!  With ham in them."

"And some cornbread!"  

"Aw, yeah!"

When I went to the front door to take the butterbean package in, there was another package on the doorstep.   This one contained three hardy lantana plants.  I planted them, then took the butterbean seeds to the garden and planted them.  Then I weeded the rows very well and put down landscape fabric between the rows.  Then I bagged up two contractor bags of debris that we'd left in Nanny's yard last weekend and loaded them into The Husband's truck.  Then I mowed Nanny's back yard until I ran out of gas in the lawnmower.  By that time, it was 5:00.  I'd been in the yard or the garden all day, was covered in dust and dripping sweat.  Time to give it up.  I left the lawnmower where it sat and came home to shower.

It was a mistake to sit down in this chair on the back porch.  I'm hungry, but I wanted to log the butterbean planting date (which I just did with this post), and I wanted to check for replies to a question I'd posted in a gardening group about whether or not to prune the hydrangea I just planted.  (The consensus seems to be either wait until early spring or leave it alone for a year.)  And now I'm even hungrier, but I'm not sure I'm able to get up!

But I double-checked! - July 20, 2024

Driving to work yesterday morning, I planned the day's obligations in my head.

First, there would be a quick stop by the community garden, then a run to the bakery, then work, then Margarita night, then to the high school to watch Granddaughter #2 perform in the band's "sneak preview" of this year's half-time show.  About the last thing The Husband said as I headed out the door was, "Don't forget the band blowout tonight at 7:30."

The band blowout was already on my to-do list.  It had originally been scheduled for the 26th, but I'd seen a Facebook update that said the 19th.  Evidently, The Husband had seen that same update.

I was in the garden by 6:45. A few of the purple grape tomatoes were *almost* perfectly ripe, so I picked them (they were "grocery-store ripe"), weighed them, and put them in the food pantry pickup box. The garden soil was very dry, so I dragged the water hose to our plot and turned it on.  When I pushed the lever on the sprayer nozzle, water spewed from the connection in all directions, soaking my sandals and the front of my shorts.  I gave the plot a thorough watering, put everything back where it belonged, and headed for the bakery.

We've been buying bread from this local bakery ever since we noticed that our store-bought bread NEVER MOLDS.   (WTF?  What are they putting in it?)  The baker is a good dude and makes wonderful stuff.  Picked up a loaf of honey cranberry bread, a sausage-egg-cheese scone for breakfast/lunch, and a chocolate-filled croissant.  We'd bought a chocolate-filled croissant a couple of weeks ago, and it had been filled with fluffy light chocolate. I could see a bit of dark chocolate peeking out of yesterday's batch, but that was ok; I like dark (any!) chocolate.  I intended to bring the croissant home to share with The Husband, as I'd done with the previous one.

The first hour at work was quiet, as usual, but come 8:00, activity picked up at an unusual pace.  One of the officers explained that several new recruits were starting that day.  They'd be welcomed and briefed in the training room behind the kitchen where I was working, then they'd be taken to the real training facility, where they'd be put through the wringer.  ("You ought to come watch," he said.  "It will be funny.")  Soon, the H.R. folks came through, followed by several spit-polished recruits, and then the sheriff, himself.  Meanwhile, I learned that the Juvenile office would be having a meeting in that same training room, starting at 11:00.  It didn't matter to me who did what in the training room, so I kept working.  

At a little before 10, dude came in, carrying some pans to go into the oven, and before he left, he indicated that his group would be needing the kitchen for a working lunch.  They "usually" set up the food on the counter and eat at the table, he said, with a meaningful glance at my paper-strewn table.

I'd just finished alphabetizing the Bs; they were in neat stacks on the table - Ba - Be -Bi - ready to go into folders.  Folders, pens, and labels were laid out on the counter.  I asked when the meeting would be over.  1:00, he says.

Not wanting to lose 2 hours of work time (I'd set a specific goal for the day), I was irked, and worked a compromise with him.  I'd clear off the table and counter long enough to let them prepare the meal, but they could set it up for serving (and eating) in the training room.  He agreed, and when he came back a little before 11 to prepare the food for the meeting, I went to Home Depot to get landscape fabric pins for the weekend gardening chores I was planning.  They were pretty much finished preparing the lunch set-up by the time I got back, so I commenced the Cs.  

I don't usually eat lunch, but what they were serving smelled delicious, and my tummy began to rumble.  But, hey, I had that chocolate-filled croissant, didn't I?  I hadn't yet promised half of it to The Husband, so I unwrapped it and bit into it, expecting fluffy filling, like the other one I'd had.  But the filling was more like thick ganache.  It was perfectly tubular, as if it had been extruded from a pastry tip, and its dark chocolate color made me think of a dog turd, but that didn't keep me from eating the whole thing while I worked on the Cs.  

My workroom was busy with comings and goings all afternoon.  As soon as the meeting broke up at 1:00, the recruits came in with their shirt-tails and tongues hanging out.  They were hungry and tired, and jumped at the offer of the food left over from the earlier meeting.  As they were lined up to serve themselves, I heard one of them say to another, "Do you think we should eat this?  It could be another trick!"  They must've had a rough morning.

By 3:00, I'd met my alphabetizing goal, so I packed up and came home.  The plan was for The Husband to come home a little early so that we could eat dinner (and get that margarita!) a little early and make it to the band blowout on time.  We met up with The Sister- and Brother-in-Law a little before 6, had dinner, and left for the high school at 7, hoping we weren't too late to find a parking place. 

The school parking lot and stadium were EMPTY.  Ordinarily, 30 minutes before the event, the place would be packed - this band is well-supported by the community - but NOBODY was there.

I whipped out my phone and pulled up the band's FB page.  The announcement said the blowout would be on the 26th.  The post that had stated the 19th was GONE, with no explanation, so we headed for home, thinking, Damn we could've had another margarita.  ;)

Project Year 9 - July 18, 2024

I finished Project Year 8 yesterday.  The un-boxing of Year 9 commenced this morning, and Years 10 and 11 have been brought down to my workspace.  

Along with two or three more "overlooked" boxes from previous years.

As soon as I unboxed Year 8, I suspected that they'd missed a box or two.  The volume of documents was visibly smaller.  As I worked, I discovered that one set of records covered only the last six months of the year.  I asked them to look again for more Year 8 boxes.  They didn't find any.  I expect them to find them any day now, since I've finished alphabetizing that year.

Year 9 makes up for the smaller volume of Year 8.  It appears to be a normal year's volume, and then some.  It'll take me DAYS to finish this one.

This job is just full of surprises.

The Sheriff's Department got a new dog.  His handler brought him in to meet the office yesterday.  I was working in the kitchen, down the hallway from the squad room, and didn't see the dog come in.  So, I'm standing at the counter, sorting records, when he sticks his nose right between my legs from behind.  

Now, I am working in a place crawling with cops, but I don't know any of them well enough to expect that sort of behavior in the workplace.  Surely one of them hadn't . . . .

I whirled around and was, for once, happy to see a big, unfamiliar German Shepherd staring up at me.  

He got me again, from the front this time, on his way out the door.

His name is Axel.

  

Bugs - July 16, 2024

At the family 4th of July stomp, Uncle Jack said that if I find round, healed-over holes in my tomatoes, I should spray them for bugs.

My first purple grape tomato ripened in the community garden.  Only one.  I pulled it, intending to dust it off and eat it there and then, but there was a round, healed-over hole in it, which I considered might have bug in it, so I threw it away without tasting it.  Then I sprayed bug spray on the plants.  Hated to do it, but it seems necessary.

I did some weeding and planted three hills of squash between one of the tomato rows.  There's a chance of rain for the next couple of days, so maybe they'll pop right up.

   

Well, damn . . . . - July 15, 2024

I was in the community garden by 6:45 this morning.  Watered and fertilized.  The tomato vines need something, but I don't know what.  They just look weird to me.  Gnarly, or something.  I planted a variety that's new to me, so maybe they're supposed to look that way.  They're out in the boiling sun all day, which might be part of the problem.  And there's something(s) growing on top of the dirt - black, speckish things (not worm poop, though), and little white tube-like things, 1/8" - 1/4"tall, which I suspect might be some sort of fungi.  Curious.

By 7:15, I was at work.  The next two project years had not been brought down.  (I'd asked for them last Wednesday, before I left town.)  The Cs and Ds from the previous year remained to be alphabetized, so I finished those while I waited for the next years.

10:00, and the boxes still had not been brought down.  I drove up to my "real" office in the hope of getting some face-time with The Chief to check the status of the archive project, but he wasn't in, so I went back to where I'd been working.

It was after noon when they finally brought down the boxes.  There were about a dozen completed boxes to be moved.  The workers took them away on carts - to I don't know where.  No sooner than they had gone, I learned that they'd found another box of reports from Year 3.  

It took effort not to choke somebody.   

I set the stray box aside and started working on Year 8.  

After two more hours, I'd had enough, so I came home, read my work email, and started supper.  

We'll be having squash from the garden tonight.

Busy Sunday - July 14, 2024

It was good to sleep in my own bed after a few days away.  I rolled out of the sack at 7:30 this morning, hungry as a bear.  After fixing us some breakfast, I went down to the garden.  

Grassy, grassy. 

The purple hull peas needed picking.

I dragged out the tiller and went to work on the grass, thinking I'd get the hard stuff done before it got any hotter.   Before long, The Husband showed up and started picking the peas.

This was the third pea-picking from those 4 rows.  I said to The Husband, "Pick everything on the vines, then we'll get rid of them.

Nanny came out while we were picking.  I asked her if she wanted me to plant more purple hull peas (we've got another 2 rows coming along).  She said she'd rather have butterbeans.  This meant we'd need to erect another fence, for there's no way Nanny and I are picking bush beans; she can't bend over for a long time, and my knees won't let me squat.  We didn't have any materials to build another fence, so I came home, did some googling, and ordered enough chicken wire and posts (to be picked up locally today) to make two 50-foot fences for the butterbeans.

Then there's the problem of seeds.  The garden center that sells bulk seeds had several varieties of bush bean seeds but was out of pole lima bean seeds.  Had to order those online, too.  Hopefully, they will ship them right away and I can get them in the ground this week, for they take 88 days to mature.  That'll be mid-October.  Pushing it, aren't we?  

We went to town and picked up the fencing supplies, grabbed some quick-stop chicken strips, and came home to begin preparing for a birthday party we were having this evening.  Our guests were out kids, grandkids, and the relatives on the hill.  We fed them pizza and store-bought birthday cake.  It was a good party.  :)

I am tired and beginning to stiffen up from my encounter with the tiller.  

Check you later.

There's no place like . . . . - July 13, 2024

HOME!

It was an OK trip.

We stayed at the Cloudland at McLemore Resort, in the mountains of north Georgia. It is not far from Cloudland Canyon State Park.  It is a 4-story hotel built on the side of a mountain, overlooking a valley -very pretty scenery.  There's not much to do in the immediate vicinity, unless you're a golfer (there's a course near the grounds) or a hiker (lots of parks within 50 miles or so).  We were there for a meeting, so The Husband wasn't able to go anywhere in the daytime, but I was.  Thursday morning,  I drove down to Fort Payne, made a quick side-trip to DeSoto Falls (where we've camped several times), and scoped out a few other places.  When the meeting ended yesterday around noon Friday, we drove over to Cloudland Canyon, peered over the overlook, but didn't hike down to the falls.  

The hotel?  I'd give it a 3 out of 5.  It was clean and quiet.  It had a pool, a spa, and 4 restaurants. The food was good, but pricey.  They offer a free drink-of-the-day for happy hour.  However, within the first few minutes of our arrival, I got stuck in our bathroom.  Yes, STUCK.  The bathroom had a sliding door that was almost impossible to slide open from inside the bathroom.  Good thing The Husband was there to let me out!  Another irksome thing was the shampoo/conditioner/body wash dispenser.  Pump any nozzle, get one drop.  (Don't think "dime"; think...peppercorn.)  Pump it again, get one more drop.  When I returned to the hotel after Thursday's sight-seeing drive, I complained to the front desk.  Friday morning, the maintenance guy came and fixed the door.  I told him about the dispensers.  It so happened that the housekeeping manager was on my floor at that moment, so the maintenance guy brought him in.  Guess what?  The dispensers were MEANT to dispense only one drop per pump.  Cost-saving decision, I reckon.  

I said to the head housekeeping honcho, "Holiday Inn doesn't treat me this way."  He basically shrugged.  

Anyway . . . . 

We got on the road the first thing this morning.  The Husband decided to take the interstate back home, which brought about a surprising coincidence.  

For almost an hour from the hotel, we deliberated about where to eat breakfast (we're not paying "resort hotel" prices for a biscuit).  Eventually, we stopped at a Burger King near the interstate, somewhere close to Manchester.  When we got in line to order, The Husband leaned over and said, "That woman at the counter looks like your cousin."  I looked over at her about the time she turned around, and it WAS her, a first cousin who had grown up next door to my house but had recently moved to east Tennessee, 30 miles or so from Manchester.  She was on her way back to our county for her dad's birthday dinner this weekend.  

What were the chances of that meeting?  

Perhaps I should buy a lottery ticket today.

  

Cloudland - July 11, 2024

The Husband was patting his pockets as we were preparing to walk out our door.  "Wallet, keys, phone...."

"Oh!  Phone!" I said, and began searching for mine.  

It was in none of the usual places. "I'll just call it," I said.

I called it.  We heard no ringing.

I guessed I must have left it at work on the previous day.  However, I'd been listening to music at work, and the phone battery was low at the end of the day.  There was a chance that the phone was in the house but too weak to ring.  

We called the office.  No answer.  

The Husband did the "find my phone" thing.

Within a couple of minutes, the office called.  Yep, my phone was there.  We drove to town, got the phone, and struck a trail to Cloudland Canyon, Georgia, or thereabouts. 

As usual, we disdained the interstate highways in favor of state and county roads.  Drove all the way across the bottom of Tennessee, stopping for lunch (and a little antique store browsing) in Lawrenceburg.  We made it to our hotel after about 7 hours of driving.

This is a beautiful area.  

After breakfast this morning, I took my watercolor paints out to the patio and painted what I saw around me.  Later today, I may drive around a bit.  

Road Trip - July 10, 2024

When The Husband gets out of the shower and gets his stuff loaded in the car, we'll be headed to north Georgia for his seminar.  This part of the country, the Tennessee-Alabama-Georgia corner, is beautiful.  We'll be driving state roads to get there, and we're leaving enough time to stop and see the world's biggest wad of chewing gum (whatever might spark an interest) if the notion hits.  

I'm taking my embroidery to do in the car, and my watercolor paints to play with during the day.  My BFF lives only a couple of hours away, and she might come for a visit.  We'll likely sniff out a margarita or two.

I did not get Project Year 7 *completely* finished before leaving work yesterday.  Yesterday was my regular day (second Tuesday of the month) to have lunch with my friend, my former boss.  I got to work at 6:45 but took an hour and a half lunch break.  At 3:30, the Cs and Ds remained to do, but I was spent by then.  They'll be there Monday when I get back to work, along with boxes containing Years 8 and 9.  Year 7 was not quite as voluminous as previous years.  I'm hoping it's all downhill from here.  

Our back yard is full of big black crows this morning, seven of them.  I heard and saw the first one hopping around in the grass.  He flew off, and when he got where he was going, he cawed, and FIVE MORE crows rose up out of the tree line - I hadn't even known they were there! - and followed him.  I thought, "WOW, SIX CROWS!" and then a 7th one, sitting in a tree at the edge of the yard, gave a loud caw and flew away.  I can imagine the conversation:

#1:  Everybody, come over here."

[pause while 2-6 heed the call]

#2:  Ok, that's all of them.  On my way."

What?  You don't listen to bird conversations?

Pants on fire - July 6, 2024

The Husband made a liar out of me this morning.  I'm pretty sure it was deliberate, but that's okay, because it stashed a new trick in my hat for future use.

The trick? 

Tell on him to his mama.

And tell him I told on him

Yesterday, I told Nanny that [paraphrasing] there was no way her son would get up early to pick peas, and that we'd be down to pick them later.  When he got home from work yesterday, I reminded him that the peas needed picking, and followed it up by relating my conversation with Nanny.  

So, what did he do?

He got up relatively early, drank his coffee, and said, "I'm ready to pick peas when you are."

I nearly fainted.

But I put on my gardening gear that instant.

We picked a 5-gallon bucket more than half full of peas.

Pulled some weeds. Smashed two fat tomato worms.

The borox/sugar ant bait container had no ants in it this morning, but it did have some black particle-ish stuff in it.   I can't figure out what it is, or how it got in.  Nanny said it might be ant poop.  I don't guess I've ever seen ant poop, so I can't discount her theory.  Whatever it is, something hauled it in through the holes in the container.  

This bears watching.

Margarita night - July 5, 2024

I'm about an hour and a half from a frozen margarita.  I need to be inside trying to do something with my hair after an unplanned trip to the garden.  As my mother would say, "Looks like the cat sucked it."

I went down there about 2:00, my only goal being to put out some ant bait I had concocted in the kitchen, a 1/6 mixture of borax and sugar, dampened with a few drops of water.  The bait was in a clear plastic deli container, with the lid taped on and holes punched in it so the ants can get in.  Nanny came out on the porch when I drove up, and I was glad because I wanted to show her the container and where I put it so she wouldn't think it was trash and throw it away, or walk up in the middle of an ant-fest.  She came out to the garden with me and showed me where she'd been when ants had bitten her.  I put the container down where it can be seen.  And somehow, we ended up spending an hour pulling weeds and putting down landscape fabric between the purple hull pea rows.  

We've got cucumbers on the vines - enough for a batch of cucumber relish when they get a little bigger.  

Nanny picked purple hull peas Wednesday, and they need picking again.  I told her, "Do not come out here and pick peas in the morning.  Your son and I will pick them some time tomorrow.  Might not be in the morning.  You know how he is.  Early morning gardening is not his thing."   

The A/C repairman drove up while I was in the garden, giving me a hall pass to get out of there.  It took them less than 30 minutes to do what they came to do.  They said it's working.  I hope it KEEPS working.  I'm tired of fooling with repairmen.

Yesterday, there was havoc among the extended-family pets.  My granddaughters went to see their other grandparents for their 4th of July dinner.  They took their two dogs with them.  (Their other grandparents are pet lovers, unlike we two scrooges.)   One of the dogs was - notice the "was?" - a tiny thing, a miniature something-or-other, and he had a heat stroke and died at the other grandparents' house.  Granddaughter #1, the veterinary-school hopeful, the dog's special person, tried to revive him and was distraught when she could not.  During all the commotion, the grandparents' dog, a big old floppy-eared blood hound, escaped the fence and hit the ground, running lickety-split, and would not come back when called.  While we waited to hear news of the dog, we talked about how hot it was, and that if the dog had any sense he'd be in a creek or a pond or somebody's in-ground swimming pool.  Two hours later, after a fairly wide-spread neighborhood search hadn't turned up the dog, The Husband decided we should join the search party and extend the range. 

A big recreational lake stretches behind the neighborhood where the dog lives.  You'd have to drive miles to get there, but it's not far (in dog terms) through the woods.  The Husband and I got in the truck, and when he backed it out of the driveway, we were not headed the direction I expected.  I said, "Where are we going?"

He said, "To the lake."

And I'm thinking, Okayyyyy, but  ....  

So we drove on to the lake, the entrance to which is on the opposite side of the lake from where the dog lives.  As we were driving into the public entrance, I couldn't help myself; I had to say it:

"The dog would likely be on the other side of the lake." 

Regrettably, the dog had not swum the lake and was not waiting by pier to get in our truck.  

We drove a few other places, looking for the dog.

He (the dog) came home about 2 this morning.  All is well with him.

I texted Granddaughter #1 this afternoon to send my condolences about her little dog.  Personally, I was not sorry to see the little dog go.  He was a shithead, and a disgusting little creature.  But I hated that my baby girls were all sad.

4th of July - 2024

When we cranked up the car to go to the family 4th of July barbeque feast, the car said it was 104 degrees.  Though it was probably exaggerating a little, it was probably not far off.

It.

Was.

Hot.

We took a pasta salad, a big pot of chilled, sliced watermelon, and the cake.

Oh, the cake.

This is how it was supposed to look:

This is how it looked when it came out of the baking pan:

The cake rose up over the pan and pooled up along the rim.  It would not come out of the pan until I sawed off the crusty edges that were fused to the pan and ran a knife around the whole loaf.  It was a bit of a cake-wreck.

I sliced it and poured ganache over the whole business.

It tasted good.

There were at least half-a-dozen other desserts at the dinner.  I brought the left-over cake home, but I'm creeped out about eating it.  You can't have a 4th of July dinner without flies.  As soon as folks quit eating, I covered my cake up, but it kept getting uncovered, and it was probably too late, anyway, to keep it from getting fly spit on it. I'll probably rake it into the garbage can in the morning.  

Nanny rode to the shindig with us, and on the way, she said that she had seen worm poop on the ground under one of the tomatoes but never found the worm.  When we took her home after the "do," I went out to the garden to see if I could find it.  I found three nearly as big as my finger.

There is a sort of twisted satisfaction in the way they pop when you step on them.  ;)

(A few years ago, I bought a black-light flashlight that was supposed to make tomato worms fluoresce.  I'd go down to the garden at night, hoping to find worms, and never found one. Wonder whatever happened to the flashlight?

I picked 4 more squash, made Nanny take half of them.  This year, I planted only 4 hills of squash (I usually do 10 or 12) because I ran out of seeds after 4.  I keep intending to plant more - there's a new pack of squash seeds in my purse - but I don't know how they'll do in this heat.

The A/C repairmen are supposed to come again tomorrow, after 3.  Maybe I can squeeze in a little gardening time between them and the Friday night margarita. 

It's 9:30 at night, and the neighbors - all up and down the road, apparently - are shooting off fireworks.  It sounds like a war zone around here.  I hope they run out of ammo pretty soon, 'cause I'm about ready for bed!

Waiting - July 3, 2024

Waiting on the A/C repairman.  They said it would be after 3, and it's nearly 5, but, whatever, I'm home, and there's already a cake in the oven that, if it turns out well, will go to the annual family 4th party tomorrow, along with a pasta salad and a cold watermelon.  

I'll make the pasta dish in the morning.  Bowtie pasta.  I can dress it with either (a) a savory vodka cream sauce with sausage or (b) olive oil and fresh veggies and herbs (and sausage or not).  

The cake in the oven is a German chocolate pound cake.  Never made it before.  The goodies are in the batter, not the frosting.   After baking it, you pour a ganache over it and sprinkle a few nuts and coconut over the top.  It looked sinful in the picture.  If I don't screw it up - if it comes clean out of the pan and doesn't fall apart - I'm going to serve it on my fanciest platter.   (Hey, with all the good cooks in this family, the pressure is on!)

I managed to get Year 7 entirely unboxed today and started the sort.  Made good progress until I had to leave for the A/C repairmen.  Back at it, come Friday morning.

Nanny picked some peas and squash today.  I checked them Sunday and intended to pick them tomorrow afternoon.  And she's been chopping weeds.  I wish she wouldn't get out there in the heat, but she's grown and can do as she pleases.  

Plumb irked - July 2, 2024

A lot of stuff is irking me these days.

Maybe it's the heat.

Maybe is the crazy politics.  I try to stay away from political discussions these days, except to agree with people that we're in a hell of a mess. 

But I am perpetually irked about something.

Can't get the little red tiller started.  Meant to stop on the way home to get some starting fluid, but forgot.

I am sore from head to toe.

Sunday evening, it became necessary for me to assist The Husband in putting the deck back on the riding lawnmower after he installed new blades.  This required lying on my belly on a nasty concrete floor while holding something heavy off the ground - which, of course, required me to get down to the floor in the first place (and then get up again).  Lord have mercy on my bones and neck muscles.  When finally released from duty, I went out to the garden to pull weeds and soon attracted every biting insect in the neighborhood.  A little mercy on my skin would be nice, too.  ;)

Our bedroom A/C went out a couple of weeks ago.  I took off work last Friday to be home for the repairmen to come.  They installed a new thing in the attic and a new thing outside.  One or both of these new things failed the next day.  The repairmen came Sunday and spent most of the day working, and didn't get it fixed. They said they had to get a part and would install it Monday.  They had to order the part; the installation is supposed to happen tomorrow after 3.  

The whole dealing-with-repairs thing is cutting into work days, and I am anxious to get this record organization project OVER WITH.

I boxed up Year 6 this afternoon and wrote the contents on the boxes.  By that time, it was 3:00 and, as usual, I had been there since 7 and worked through lunch.  I looked at the Year 7 boxes, and even emptied one of them, but could not make myself start the sorting process.  Year 7 uses different forms - same information but arranged differently.  That will slow me down until I get used to them.   

And we've got a 3-day trip coming up, which will also slow me down.

Slow progress may be a blessing in disguise.  When I finish with these records, the next ones I tackle will be in an un-heated, un-airconditioned building.  Oh, joy.