Come Back Later... I'm Whining
Seriously, I could crawl under a table, stare at the underside and feel sorry for myself all afternoon. Feh. Blech. Blah.

I still haven't signed the new lease deal with the landlord. It's not such a terrible contract, it's just that it is debilitating thinking of being here indefinitely, and worse: I have to disclose a proposal for approval of any new pets. You know, pets? Like, as in, chickens?

It's all my fault. After 5 years of yearning and false starts, after waiting and hoping to find our destiny, I finally took matters into my own hands and defied common sense and reason. I hate renting. I hate not knowing where we are going next. I hate having to answer to another adult for my paint choices, and for permission to have this or do that. I am tired of living half in and half out, apologizing for our messes and regular wear and tear.

Oh, yeah, it's a pitiful situation... not our circumstances, me telling it.

Yup. I should have known better than to walk in to that feed store and walk out with chicks. My plan was based on hope and optimism and it is swiftly falling apart before my very eyes. The chicks aren't cute little peepers, that can hide in the shower stall and fit in a lunch bag. They are days away from cackling from a nest box. They fly and run around. They make a mess, and they make a scene. And they are going to make my landlord mad.


They make me happy. They amuse us all... how can I have regrets?

If we are here to tell our story, then there are still blessings to thank God for, but in all honesty... this has been a really hard year, following challenging years, on the tail of some disappointing times. And I do not feel like I am managing very well.

I've spent too much of the day doing house searches on Redfin, an amazing search tool, if you happen to be looking in one of their service areas. Redfin is amazing, but the market is lousy. Yes, there are deals and more options than last year, but too many sellers are still smokin' some wacky stuff. Now, I am just sad and defeated. Southern California is full of crummy, small, crowded, fixer-upper million dollar houses. Want to see something insane?
This place is obviously a bit out of our reach, but do you think any place can appreciate by $51,000,000 in 8 years?! Yes, I counted the zeroes. I've seen countless others, that are in middle class neighborhoods, that ought to be reasonable, and yet they are asking for 1 and 2 million dollars more than they paid 1 year ago! I ain't buyin'. Which just plain sucks.

We've been calling this bubble and economic "down turn" for a long time, and if anybody isn't aware: It's going to get worse. Whether you turn to the White House or the Onion, for your economic forecasts, it's all laughable.

So, buy now? Over pay or settle for something too small, too remote? We could go far east in the county, but we would be out of our comfort zone, and deep in to heat, fire, drought and long commute country. We could go very far east and make a go of it in Wisconsin, but the job market makes that a risky proposition. I think of moving north; after what happened to my mom, I am very interested in closing the gap between our homes. We've thought about renting some place else, some place fun and cheap, or fun and cheap and different, while we wait for the market to correct itself. Theoretically, this is an interesting idea, but practically it makes me go in to a fetal position, hummingWest Side Story tunes...
There's a place for us,
Somewhere a place for us.
Peace and quiet and open air
Wait for us
Somewhere.
Some day!


If you made it this far, you're a caring friend, or a glutton for punishment... I'll throw you a lifeline, I'll open the same window of joy and hope that Aunt Carol sent me. Make yourself smile and watch these world dance videos and maybe, like us, you'll feel like dancing too!

Tempted to Machine Quilt

June Jamboree at Starry Night Hollow was not only fun, it was an inspiring place to be for anyone who loves fabric. I love fabric.


I love how the seasons change light and colors, reveal shades undetected. And with nature's changes my preferences change... sometimes in ways that surprise me. I have favorite colors, but looking through my fabric stash, I doubt you could guess which are my favorites. Most colors are well represented in my collection of fabrics, but citrus tones are the colors I have the fewest of.


I thought orange was a favorite color of someone I want to make a quilt for, but it turns out to be a little too much like pink, or something like that. Orange definitely qualifies as a color I don't gravitate toward, but I am loving the Fresh Squeezed collection from Moda Fabrics. It's sweet and tart, it's sharp and refreshing... it's an idyllic summer.


So with some complementary fabrics from my stash and a charm pack from Starry Night Hollow, I got busy designing and piecing. And I wasn't the only one enjoying the new color scheme... Alex, Geoff, William, Max and Maria offered layout suggestions and expressed appreciation for the Fresh Squeezed theme. It's extra fun to work on something that everyone likes.


I bought extra yardage to sash the charm pack squares, and more for the backing. It has to be finished before the end of summer. It's definitely a take me on a picnic kind of quilt.


Under blue skies, near shady trees. The colors of the quilt are so invigorating, so reflective of summer... maybe it could brighten a dark winter day, when one is beginning to think wistfully of lemonade and garden beds.


So, how soon before we can take it for a test run? How many days or months will it take me to hand-quilt this quilt and the special quilt I am trying to finish for Ruth? The truth is, my fingers and shoulders will give out before I can finish either quilt, especially if I push myself to finish both before the end of summer. Hand quilting is so slow, so hard. I am emotionally attached to the traditional ways, to the look of those dear stitches and even to the meditative leisure of sitting with a quilt on my lap, a needle between my thumb and fingers.

But I already have new quilt designs I am aching to try, and I really would like to make use of my fabulous fabric collection, so I have this irresistible urge to try machine quilting. Machine quilting has it's own challenges and limitations, and I'm not sure my machine is even up to the task.


I need to learn more about my machine, and more about machine quilting. I am hoping I can learn to do something pleasing enough to be worthwhile. Certainly it will be faster than pulling a thread and needle by hand, but I don't want to compromise the hard work and integrity of the quilt top just to finish faster.

I am simultaneously worked up about this issue and pleased... in truth, it is a blessing to have these kind of minor dilemmas to ponder.

**************
This just in:

76 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Superior Take the test!

Thanks to Sara for the fun link. I cannot account for my results.

Frosty Campers and No Spell-Check!

The boys insist they've been warm enough, camping in the tent. This morning there was frost on the ground, and all night there were no clouds to blanket the Earth, so I am sure it was very cold. Still, there are no complaints... not about the cold anyway.

Alex has been discovered by the local mosquitos, and even with only 2 bites his forearm is swollen, red and painful. I guess there is at least one reason to be thankful Chickenblog is not posting pictures! There are no mosquitos in the tent. Unfortunately the sneaky suckers have been finding us during the day, when we go on walks, and sit in the yard.

I wrote several posts yesterday, but obviously never got to a wifi spot. So, I have to debate with myself whether or not to post old news, or stick with current events. Most of yesterday's post was my long suffering tale of woe, becasue I lost, then found my original post. The subject gets redundant and boring, facts which I am compounding as I explain all of this, so I am going to drop it now...

Yesterday we made it to Coos Bay, to the farmer's market, and Foodie's. We sampled varities of cranberry breads, and bought sweet strawberries. Foodie's is the smallest, the most tiny restaurant ever and all 3 menu items are incredibly delicious. The parking lot hut serves Caribbean tacos and beef or chicken sandwiches, all with a homemade blackberry sauce, their speciality. Oh, so good.

Just around the corner from the farmer's market and Foodie's we stopped in a new antique mall. Sitting outside, waiting for a new home, what do you think I saw? Hens. Lovely, gentle, Polish hens! Oh my goodness was that a sight, and a temptation. The shopkeepr must have seen me coming; he was determined to convince me that 3 more hens in the back of mini-van, driving south for 20 hours was a perfectly reasonable proposal. Not sure how I walked away from that one. Have you seen Polish hens? All black with a ball of snow white feathers cover their heads, like a lady's hat. Adorable.

My visit to the feedstore outside of town gave me another point of view... I am trying to find a place that will sell chick feed by the pound. Most places want me to take home 25 pounds at once, which is a bit much to travel with. So at this last place the woman kept asking about my circumstances... "How many chicks? How big?" Finally she concluded that 25 pounds is not too much for 3 chicks, but when I explained in more detail that I will be taking said chicks and 4 children in our family car all the way back to So Cal, she finally got the picture and she said, rather matter factly, "Oh. You're crazy."

Yes, just a bit crazy, and also a bit worried. I've mentined my concerns about Amelia behaving like a rooster... well Pip is looking and behaving like a rooster. It's the tail feathers. They are not round at the ends and standing pertly. They rise up then taper to points that fall in little curled tail arcs... very telltale of a rooster's tail. I know Pip has been a favorite of many, and s/he is certainly dear to us, but anything that crows at 0-dark hundred in the morning will not be tolerated by anyone in our tidy little neighborhood. How much sooner would we be found out if there is a cocky-doodle-doer crowing?

Not all roosters are aggresive, and if we were in our own home I would gladly give Pip a trial, an opportunity to prove himself a mild and docile fellow. As it is, living in our rental palace, there is little choice but to begin a search for Pip's new home. I write this tearfully. It was foolhardy of me to jump into this venture. I should have known better. Sigh.

Even now, Geoff is working on the aforementioned lot with trailer... I would give it a more dignified title, if I weren't so determined to remain indifferent. It's a big lot and it has a small house, and if I enjoyed shopping for paint, flooring and bathroom fixtures, then we could call it a real gem! Let's just say it is full of potential. If only all of that potential and space were ours now, but short sales are not so short, and can actually take months before we even know whether we have a chance. Otherwise, there is very little to give me hope that we will be moving to our own place anytime soon. Our friends say how great it would be for us to stay in the area, but my enchantment with So Cal has long since waned.

Gee. This would be such a nice place to stick a pretty picture... something striking to lift the mood.

Back to Coos Bay... we made a stop at the children's resale shop, the one where 90% of Maria's clothes come from. We came packed for summer, but's still early spring here, and too cold for her favorite dresses. Fortunately, I had my usual success at the resale shop and Maria now has warm clothes to wear during our stay here, and for our winter ahead back home. Places, like Oregon and Wisconsin always have the best clothing for children in their thrift shops and resale stores... it must be the 4 seasons and real weather that account for the greater variety. Anyway, I am happy that Maria is snug and comfortable for our afternoon walks, and we'll be able to enjoy a beach day too.

It's already afternoon. It's has been a warm day, with a clear blue sky. It might feel late in the day, if it weren't for the fact that the sun will not disappear until long after 9 p.m., which is a funny thing. Even at 10 p.m., when I went to check the chicas, the sky was still faintly lit. William read several chapters of "Pippi Longstocking" to us last night, and I suppose we were staying up too late, but the internal clock cannot be persuaded to believe in bedtime, when the sky is luminous.

Delia is remarkable. As serious as her injuries are, she is taking the steps she can, and making the slow and steady progress that will lead to recovery. I know she is in pain, and I can imagine she has her fears and disappointments, but she is not letting much get her down. I think it is with a mix of humor and gratitude that she is coping with her circumstances. I wish the circumstances were much different. One day at a time. Thank you for all the prayers and kind words. Every bit helps. She has said, everyone should be praying for Ron. True, he could use our support and praise. He is caretaker #1, and we are thankful for his diligence and steadfast devotion.

Just for the sake of marking time:
June 18, 2008

Just Like The Old Days
No pictures, just like the early days of Chickenblog. Initially we had no photographs at all, and then we posted a select few. After awhile Geoff showed me how to encrypt the photographs and they could only be seen with a password. I still need to go through archives and unlock those. In recent years Chickenblog has been a photo bonanza, but until I get back to Garage Mahal and our lovely iMac, I will have to paint my views with my fancy way of talkin'.

Last night was the boys' 3rd night sleeping in a tent in the yard. Cold nights, down in the 40's, have not discouraged them in the least. There's is plenty of room in here to roll out their sleeping bags, but happily they are content to enjoy a classic summer vacation tradtion of comuning with nature, being one with the wilderness, even without the benefit of a campfire and marshmallows.

What they do have is a flashlight and a well-worn copy of The Lord of The Rings. Last summer they camped with The Hobbit. William and Alex take turns reading aloud. At home Max has been reading to Maria. When the house gets very quiet, I often find them together in Max's bed, and Max is reading from their favorite books. Campers reading in their tent, Max and Maria snuggled with a stack of books... those are 2 pictures I would love to post and remember for always.

In North Bend there is a wonderful children's resale shop, and today is farmer's market day in Coos Bay. See, I am trying to work myself up for a bit of shopping, with 2 things in mind: warm clothes for Maria and some cranberry-hazelnut bread. We came ready for summer weather, but it has been windy and cold, and not the least bit comfortable for sleeveless dresses. Most of Maria's clothes have come from the North Bend resale shop, so hopefully I can pick up some pants and sweaters and she'll be warm now and prepared for our colder season this winter. The only rationale I can think of for the farmer's market is that bread... it's so nutty, chunky, cranberrylicious. My mom says it's early in the season for fresh produce, but there is some chance farmers from warmer areas could come in.

And this is what I wrote when I couldn't find the above installment. Later, when I can sit in my own house with a full computer and other conveniences, I may delete all of this.

June 18, 2008... 12 minutes later

Arrggghh
This is nothing like the poetry I wrote and lost!! Geoff suggested I write my posts in the mail and then save it until I get to the wifi cafe. The idea is perfect, but my execution of the plan has been less so. Trying to find a way to save my descriptive, thoughtful and eloquent submission for Chickenblog, I managed to *blip* the entire entry. All gone. Vanished. Don't think I didn't gnash my teeth and cry a little. Now, instead of making an impression of sublime beauty and painting images of quaint days in meadows, and children reading beneath stars and moon... instead of all my deep thoughts and musings, we are left with me: Cranky and bitter me, typing up a cranky, bitter post about technical woes. Whaaaaa

I think I said something about not being able to post photographs, and how that's how Chickenblog began... with no pictures. Then I sentimentally described my brave sons sleeping for 3 nights in a tent, reading The Lord of the Rings aloud by flashlight. I talked about the cold and Maria's lack of appropriate clothing, and how I thought I might drive to Coos Bay, to the farmer's market and the resale shop. It was all so eloquent, so thoughtfully composed. Trust me... it was good stuff.

I know, the lack of photographs is a bummer, especially when my writing is so limited and hindered. Every 3 minutes Max or Maria feels compelled to ask me something, show me something or tell me something, and so my train of thought is derailed, detoured and deleted. Even now, I cannot write this paragraph without 9 varities of interruption. The lack of photographs is nothing compared with the lack of deep thoughts, continuity and focus.

Sure, maybe it's obvious to you that this might not be the right time to selfishly retreat to words and deep thoughts, to turn my back on precious children who are bound and determined to regale me with detailed descriptions of Earthworm Jim, but I am obviously not as clued-in as you are. I keep hoping that my firstpost will pop-up on the screen, or that I will suddenly feel comfortable and familiar with the strange laptop keyboard, so that I can type faster, with fewer errors. Yes, you probably can see what I cannot: It's time to call it quits, to set aside blogging and give it a rest already. There is no point in fighting the tide, in trying to reach for the Pulitzer, when I am destined for bathroom graffitti.

I'll try to save this post, such as it is, and maybe later I can say something pretty, and find a wifi spot, run spellcheck and post my deep thoughts and other musings. In the meantime, I am going to fold laundry. And if I cannot save this post, it might be for the best. Honestly.

Compulsive Posting

Unlike some bloggers who know when to take a break from posting, I cannot seem to resist sharing something, anything. And for this, I apologize. I have nothing to say... nothing but an irresistible urge to report the minutia of the day.


Dude, this isn't my car.
Funny, when we were 5 kids, crammed into our avocado green VW bus, I didn't think it was quite this cool. Hey family, who remembers summer 1982, the road trip and the unplanned stop in Visalia, California? Waiting for a part to come in? Good times. Mom, that was the same trip when we camped in Kings Canyon and you kept us on high alert for bears. Even though I was 15 and moody, I still have happy memories of being in the wilderness, with real trees and hiking across a huge meadow.

I just dragged the children out to the driveway of Garage Mahal to clean our ride. I love our Odyssey... so much room, so dependable and safe. In the recesses of our conestoga we found 47 pencils and pens, 2 crayons, 14 Lego parts, a pair of socks, 3 dirty socks, one black dress shoe -size 12, inline skates, knee pads, a helmet, an old sheet, 68 plastic grocery bags to take to recycling, a banana... technically a fossil of what is presumed to have been a banana, 2 jackets, one sweater, 17 print-outs of house listings, and the "Mary Poppins" DVD box, which had "Pirates of the Caribbean" in it. There was more, but I think you get the idea.

As soon as William gets out of the shower, we are going to the car wash, then we are going on a walk. Fascinating, I know.

We are having turkey meatloaf for dinner. I will do my usual thing, where I add a ton of grated zucchini and whole oats to the mix, and everyone except Max and Maria will love it. Max and Maria will get peanut butter and jelly or pasta.

Ah! He's out of the shower... we're off!
I hope You have a great Friday night.

Dang, that Popped!

It's a bit much, don't you think?

Pardon Me, While I Muck Around...

How to become a blog of note... I was reading "Blogger Buster... "reading" may be overstating the facts. I was scanning "Blogger Buster" and the article about making posts "pop."

I am going to click "publish" now and see if this post "pops."

ready
set
go

Confessions of a Give-Away Slut


Yes, I read "Confessions of a Pioneer Woman." No, I am not going to make it a link back to her already fabulously popular 2 year old blog. No! I'm not jealous. She and Dooce deserve thousands of comments and huge ad revenues. I'm totally fine with it. Really. Incidentally, Dooce will be a featured mommy blogger on the Today Show tomorrow. Seriously, she does not need my plug.

Pioneer Woman is giving away a coffee maker today and I left my comment in hopes of being randomly selected to win the coffee maker. I make horrible coffee. Actually, I don't even drink coffee. My idea of good coffee is decaffeinated Nescafé with lots of milk. But I want to be a winner. Guess what? My comment number is the same number of the lucky woman who won a $500 gift card yesterday. I am commentator #1708. What are the odds of the random generator picking that number 2 days in a row? Zip.


How do you make long division interesting? The answer is: Elaborate tales that involve zombies. If 21 friends came to your house and they had to eat 7,000 cakes in order to keep zombies from destroying all video games in the world, how many cakes would each friend have to eat?

While I made homemade macaroni and cheese, Alex illustrated the ensuing mayhem of 21 people racing to consume 7,000 cakes while zombies are being quashed by video game characters and giant Lego figures. The mac 'n' cheese had fresh Italian herbs and grated Romano and Mozzarella cheeses over penne and I baked it in the oven to give it a nice crisp crust. When I served Maria she looked appalled and said, "I want real food."

Heck, yes, I can mommy blog with the best of them.


Here is Maria. When I write my posts and export my photos to the server, Maria likes to sit in my lap. She brings me things. Little papers, lotion, an apple, an orange peel, a red glove, a pencil sharpener, a bottle cap, stones, a bandage, and cups of tea.


Geoff promised her a pony if she poops in the toilet. A pony! It was enough to make me want to wet my pants until I can negotiate a chicken. Just kidding. I shouldn't have to say that I am "kidding," but I never know when people will decide to take me seriously. And some readers lurkers will see this as proof positive that they were right to disown me.


There's a lot I would like to say. There is a lot I could confess. I want to be a winner and I want to have long shiny hair. I want to keep a clean house, but I don't want to do the actual cleaning. I want lose weight, disdain food, regularly visit an aesthetician, read novels and retain facts about politics, economics, history and html. I want to let go of the past, live in the moment and smile in the face of the unknown.

Alors Français


Frais, de croissants chauds. Bon?

I feel so foux da fa fa fa!

Merci a Sara, and Trader Joe's.

So Many Deep Thoughts

I am all about the deep thoughts. Unfortunately they are so deep and unwieldy they defy articulation, expression, reason. In other words if I bother to post today, I risk being obtuse, dull, random and simply confusing. Ah, but I am going to post anyway. (insert maniacal laugh) To counter the effects of my unformed philosophies, I will include snapshots of beautiful flowers, which were a gift from my visiting Virginia friend, Carol L..


Carol was in town for just 2 days, so I was delighted she found time to spend a few hours with us. The children were disappointed that Tamsyn could not come, and by all accounts Tamsyn was very disappointed as well. I know I should say all supportive things about them living in Virginia and making the best and most of their circumstances, but it sure would be nice if the world would adjust and shift and make it possible for them to return to California. The children miss their best friend. I miss our friends too.


My pants smell bad. I suppose I should own more than one pair of pants, which get washed once a week, whether they need it or not and clearly, they do need it. Now that was a fine example of why I should be doing anything else beside writing my thoughts at this moment. Just be relieved I am not writing down all of my thoughts. The solution is obvious at least. I will put on my skirt, the other half of my wardrobe, and throw these jeans in the wash. I wish all of our other issues had solutions as simple and obvious as this.

I am tempted to list all of the issues we grapple with and post them here for your review. You could tell me whether they smell bad and offer solutions... the solutions I am not seeing, don't recognize, refuse to accept or am too disoriented to appreciate. I am tempted, but I am not compelled. One thing I have finally learned is that for every issue there are many solutions and even more opinions about which is the best solution.

Have you ever noticed you agree with whoever most closely expresses what you already believed in the first place? On the other hand, I am always a little alarmed at how easily I can be persuaded of one idea or another, and then switch back when I hear a new angle. The net result is that there is little or no point in soliciting the free advice and earnest opinions of concerned citizens. You can breath a sigh of relief now.


Geoff came home, late (is it really necessary for me include "late?" It goes without saying.)... he came home and said he did some investigating and confirmed that we can have chickens, as backyard pets, in our community. 10 chickens in fact. 10 is a lot of chickens. He added, for further emphasis, that in some neighborhoods we could have 25 chickens.
Well.
And what should I make of this?
So, I asked whether I could go to the country right now and bring home an actual chicken, and he said,
"Sure, if it will turn everything around for you, I will deal with the landlord."
Hmmm. I wonder.
Would a chicken, a plucky hen, turn everything around?
That seems like a tall order for a chicken. It's been almost 5 years since I had chickens and in that time I have probably romanticized the whole idea of chickens... but only just a little. And while my heart and soul pine for chickens, I think I know better what it all really means. I want the liberty of creating our own space, of settling in, like a hen on her nest, in her yard, and feel like I am home. I do not want to placate a landlord, deal with a landlord or beg permission from a landlord. It's too soon. I've waited this long and in all likelihood I will have to wait at least 1 more year, or maybe 2. So, even though the sound of a chick peeping and the sight of a hen dancing across the lawn would cheer and amuse me, I am, unfortunately, too smart to open that door just yet.

Today is take your son/daughter to work day. People at Geoff's office still ask, "How many kids do you have?" I've suggested he offer a different number every time. Keep 'em guessing. Today he will have 3 children, when I drop the boys off this afternoon. Then Maria and I will have the rest of the day alone, together.


I know I said I would not solicit opinions, but I have this 1 question: When is a property a fixer-upper in need of TLC and when is it simply a disaster?

Cluck Cluck Cluck


Luna, September 2003

Thoroughly Random Thursday


This is how I feel. I feel drained and drab.


This is how I want to feel. No, not topless... I want to feel cocky and kick-ass.

In high school we used to rent a VCR, then browse through the BETA and VHS selections, and there were few options. I remember we could see Dudley Moore play drunk, in "Arthur." Was he acting? I dunno. There were Clint Eastwood options and plenty of James Bond movies, and of course Franco Zeffirelli's "Romeo and Juliet." Sigh. Seems like we always came home with Bruce Lee, or "Strange Brew."


These boots would help. Not that I need material things to achieve confidence and vitality. But look at these beauties... Bruce had his grin. Superman has his cape, Wonder Woman has her unbreakable tiara boomerang, Batman needs his mask. These boots hold untold powers, and I think I could achieve heroic deeds wearing them, like clean the house, tell the landlord where to step-off, toilet train the cats.


I don't want to feel like this. Sickeningly fat and sugary and wrong. I don't want to be artificial, unhealthy, a glaring testament to what's wrong in the world.


I would rather be comfortable and genuine, like a cat that is loved.


Or like a happy child at play.

Carrots and Honey
Last night I ate carrots cooked in honey. It was a suggestion from Maria B. to Janice R., to cook the baby carrots with a bit of honey. I wonder how much exactly. I have carrots and honey. I even have a ham, and Janice R.'s amazing carrot cake recipe, and somewhere in the garage I have a packed box full of Easter decorations and Spring touches. I could go on for a long bit about Easter and how it catches me off-guard and unprepared most every year, fortunately I have labels, including an "Easter" category of past posts, so no need. It's all been said before. I really do try. I try to plan and clean and decorate and I even imagine going to church, but somehow my efforts fall short. Last year, probably around 4th of July, when I packed all of the Easter bunnies, baskets and egg decor, I really believed I was packing for another move. I did not think we would still be here. Not that we had a plan or even much hope, so I guess it's just a habit. It makes me sad how I dread holidays, even my favorites. Gad. I wasn't going to do this. Carrots cooked in honey is really very nice.


Maria and Jordan riding the ottoman, sister cowgirls of the living-range. I found this pair of feathered $1.87 bonnets at a thrift shop in Madison, Wisconsin. I love Willy Street and St. Vincent's. I love discovering an unexpected treasure and seeing it open up a new world for someone. I need to grab my camera again, the next time Maria is brandishing the inflatable sword, and wearing her brother's leather belt and her purple pirate hat. William says she appears in his room, dressed in her piratey garb, and thunders pirate words... Oooh arggh! I'm a pirate!

Everyday Life 30 :: 25
Has anyone seen my camera battery?
How about my glasses?
Is it Thursday?

Completely addicted to these!

Don't send a lame Starring You! eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!

And for even more hilarity check out what my brother and his wife did: It's A JibJab Life! Every time you watch it, an angel gets its wings.

Grumble, Grumble
Are you seeing what I am seeing?
My server has changed yesterday's post 12 times and won't publish it the way I wrote it. Sometimes text drops out, sometimes pictures don't show up. So far there are 7 comments, and on my computer it says 0 comments. Technical aggravation! Argghh. The worst part is confronting how very deeply I am obsessed with blogging and having everything work 100% perfectly now. Right Now! You understand, right?

Synchronized Insomniacs


Last night we left our still damp carpet and went out in to the world in search of food and amusement. Friday night is Family Night, and we usually spend a large part of it debating what to do. Fortunately Maria made a decisive and clearly stated plan: "Pumpkin patch. I like a go pumpkin patch." Yes! We have a destination! A plan! Willing participants! Friday night turned out to be an awesome night to go to the neighborhood corner, where there were lights and straw bales and inflated jumpy houses. No crowds. No sulky-cranky pumpkin patch slaves. We owned. Alex and Max jumped to their hearts' content, which was a blast to watch. Maria bounced to her heart's content, which meant she did not bounce much at all. We even managed to get away with only purchasing one over priced squash orb. Alex has big plans for his pumpkin. Plans that include a Dremmel tool. We will share photos.


The pumpkin patch is home to two golden retrievers who were the kind of dogs that make me want to be a dog owner... they were that good! They never left the lot, they never barked or made inappropriate sniffing maneuvers, and they happily played with anyone willing to toss their dog toy. Awesome dogs.

I took a lot more pictures, but my nighttime photo skills need some help. The flash is way too bright and the pictures taken with flash look... uh... look really, really, really bright. No flash can sometimes look arty, but most times just look blurred. More to learn. It's cool.

Oh ya... the insomnia. Sometimes Geoff and I both have insomnia and we stay up talking and expounding on all of our brilliant theories. While I loathe insomnia, Synchronized Insomnia is kind of nice. We reconnect, solve problems, make plans, come up with designs, and philosophies and we cuddle. My brain was running a mile a minute with all kinds of deep thoughts and insights. I designed 3 major features of my dream house, I resolved to accept my thrift-shop domestic style, and I made a fantastic, if completely late, retort to the principal's take on 'parents and teenagers should not mingle at the school party' speech (bottom line: She's totally wrong.) Geoff summarized where all of these economic turns are taking us... the dollar plummets, China cuts their ties to the dollar, no more cheap imports, so Americans reboot their manufacturing and we become the exporters, which doesn't really help the environment, because it's still all about buying stuff. From 2 a.m. until around 4:45 a.m. we were geniuses, eloquent and articulate. Yes!

Now I am off to save the world!
And later, a nap, because I need sleep real bad.

Am I Quirky?

I have been tagged for a Quirky Meme by Calamity Kim. So, I am supposed to share 6 of my quirks. I had to go to the dictionary: "A peculiar trait." Also: "Idiosyncrasy" and "Eccentricity." Then I had to think. Hmmmmm

Lately I feel less and less eccentric or unique. The more people I meet and listen to, the more blogs I read, the less I see myself as a special individual. Which is not the same as saying I am not special... I just mean there are a lot of eccentrics with peculiar traits, so many in fact that it makes me feel rather common, typical, unquirky. All my life I have had ideas and dreams, little hidden desires that I hoped to act upon one day and everyday I come across more and more people fully embracing the things I've been hoping to do, and living out loud the secret wishes I've been making.

Are memes really supposed to make you ponder and think deeply? I don't think so. I also don't think I have any good quirks.


Now if I could get a pair of kittens to ride along with me in a sling, that might be a bit quirky. I could wear a big hat, mine would be a cowboy hat, and I would casually as you please walk around town with kittens at my waist. Or a hen. I could be a chicken lady. In a stroller, or sitting by me while I drive around running errands.


This isn't quirky, I don't think. When I see dreadlocks, my scalp itches... no, not my scalp... more like my brain. My thoughts itch and I feel it in my scalp and I get a compulsion to shave my head and run my hand all over my head. Just saying.


Is this quirky? I like other people's dogs better than my own. Well, ya, we don't have a dog. Sometimes I really believe I want a dog, but I know if I had one I would be very distressed. Dogs need a lot and I never feel like I am giving them enough, so that their little dog faces stare up at me and I live with a horrible sense of guilt mixed with regret, in spite of the fact that I love them. I love other people's dogs and I like to pet them and feed them and I love to hear them drink water. I love Molly and Toby, Sam, Jasper and Pippin, and all the dogs riding in cars hanging out the window and soaking up the sun in the breeze. Other people's dogs are the best.


Through art, Alex expresses his desire to break for lunch.

A lot of people have said I am crazy quirky to home*school. I cannot over state how much I love my children and love having them with me. I miss them when they are at school. I want to learn with them and share the day and new experiences. I want to see what they see and laugh out loud with them. I wish home school was the perfect, ideal place for all learning, but I appreciate that they need to see more and do more and find their own paths. I will never regret our school days together.


How about liking funny faces, grouchy faces, even blurred photographs, is that quirky? Not so much. I like Maria's pout. I even liked it when the babies cried sometimes. If I knew they were safe, clean, fed and they were just having a cry moment, I liked it. They get so expressive and they are so powerful and I just love hearing the effort. Then I love to scoop them up and embrace them. Sigh.


Dreams don't make us quirky, do they? Recurring dreams about places, like Mexico, where I used to go as a girl. No, that is not quirky. Never mind.

Let's see... peculiar...

I like the taste of bell peppers, but I will not eat bell peppers. I flavor dishes with bell pepper, but pull the little suckers out after cooking.
I always sleep better when my feet are clean.
That's it. I've shared enough. As much as I write and post on Chickenblog you might not guess that I am a quiet person, more shy than outgoing. What I would really enjoy is hearing from lurkers, family, friends. Do you know what a lurker is? If you read Chickenblog and never say "hey" or make yourself known, or make comments, then you are lurking. That's cool, but just this once why not say hello and tell us something about yourself. Do you have a peculiar trait? What are your quirks, or just one quirk. Please. Life is so much better shared.

Oh So Random

I was about 5 years old the first time I ate chips and dip. "Like a Rhinstone Cowboy" was playing on the hosts' stereo, and I couldn't believe that both Fritos and potato chips could be dunked into this creamy, savory dish, and come out tasting divine. It was fancy heaven and I was a baptised convert.

Umm... this is not a shameless demand for more attention. These vote icons are provided by special request, for Toby's mom's cousin:

My strongest category:


Whoa! Hey, I thought I was nominated here, but maybe not.


I am so worthy here... tee hee. I fed them 3 meals today, and they are all present and accounted for.


This is a tight race, with many worthy competitors. It would be understandable, if it's close.


Oh... did I forget to nominate myself? If you don't know me already... I am giggling, and if I laugh real hard I am prone to snorting, which is not hot.


Thank you.

I wasn't going to blog today, because there is way too much I am supposed to be doing. Camping had moments of bliss, and lot's of cleaning and logistical juggling, so naturally I am whooped. Pictures later. iPhoto is slogging even more than me. So, your turn: Tell me about your camping experiences, and what do you do in case of fire?

Ahhhk! That's the sound I make when I am juggling on a tightrope, blindfolded, drunk and somewhat dazed. I think every few months I make some comment about the date... as in: OMG I can't believe it's January 17th! Or how about the fact that this is 2007. I'm still writing 2006 on checks, I discovered today. What's up with France and Britain joining forces? Fritain? Anyway, I am here and feeling overwhelmed and a bit punchy. I am aware that school culture has completely taken over what little remained of my thought processes. Someone didn't do the dishes or write my friends thank you cards for salvaging my birthday. I am out of touch, desperately in need of exfoliation and an extreme make-over. Really, feel free to nominate me for the Baggy Lady Miracle Overhaul and Ass-Kicking. I alternate between my one pair of jeans and the skirt that was meant to be "singularly beautiful," and not "singularly the only thing I wear besides my jeans."

All randomness and whining aside, my kids are amazing and fill me with awe and wonder, so I will carry on, and Geoff... he is amazing. Geoff is a guiding light, a force of goodness and will. And now I am going to help with homework.

Let's play with Google's translator. First English to Spanish, then back to English. Please ready aloud for maximum amusement:

"And here we are tomorrow of Christmas. We were for above in 6 and now it is almost noon. Maria still has gifts no opened. She is occupied piling up of the boxes of the light that came from their Tutu and Grampa Corm. Geoff has been who mounted and of reading of instructions from dawn. Alex constructed a dragoon already. Guillermo still is using his shirt of superman. The Maximum took to its transport its site and it has probably everything in sequence now. And I? I am trying to share it everything with you, the aunts and the uncles and the cousins and the friends and grandmas and grandpas, because the only thing that could be ed ***reflx mng tomorrow of Christmas more would be tenerte with us here. Thanks for the national geographic subscription, books and the CDes, for the collection ducky of rubber and the new cloth of the table, the sweater for Maria and the pretty wood marks (I have put pictures in them already) He is not everything on the presents, by all means. I am enchanting the collective alcohol, love and the will that east day drives of celebration and maintains the tradition and the joy to us together. La Paz May and the aclamation is with you everything with the New Year."

Guillermo and I are rolling.

moving sucks.
lost things
broken things
missing things
tired bodies
weary spirits
frazzled minds
it just sucks

Happy Fourth of July!

(insert sparklers here)

Geoff is at work. The house is a mess.

(insert swag of red, white and blue bunting here)

Yesterday Geoff and William installed heat blocking film in the dining-room/living-room/bedroom windows. I resuscitated my planter garden.

(cue "Star Spangled Banner")

Around midnight the house should cool down to 83 degrees.

(grand finale rockets)

I was away for awhile. Did you miss me?

First I Googled "How to stop being bitter."

Then I looked for other blogs. There are millions. Most of them are more sophisticated than mine. A Bored Housewife in Utah posts artistic photographs of her cleavage, and wears jewelry in her nose. Plus her house looks really clean. Not just surface clean, but genuinely sanitary, organized. Another woman is enjoying literally thousands of visitors to her blog. She says she's a 'geek' and wants to 'explore geek subjects like internet marketing.'

My Google search for petty emotions yielded several gossip sites and an article about weddings and how they make people jealous.

So, I wasn't actually away, gone. I was just surfing the w.w.w. After awhile of slipping from one link to another... from Utah to New Hampshire, to New Jersey then to Amsterdam, you start to feel like you have left your own corner of the world. I did. I felt far away.

Here's Geoff...
surprised?

You Have A Type A Personality

A You are hyper, energetic, and always on the mood You tend to succeed at everything you attempt And if you don't succeed at first, you quickly climb your way to the top! You could be called a workaholic, but you also make time for fun As long as it's high energy and competitive, you're interested You have the perfect personality for business and atheltic success

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

How many trivial things can one person find on the internet? Many.
I wonder whether I would have published the results of this *personality* test, if they didn't sound so flattering?

You Have A Type A- Personality

A- You are one of the most balanced people around Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you. When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back Whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love! You live life to the fullest - encorporating the best of both worlds

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

I am experiencing another calendar wake-up call: It is November! Panic? Maybe. The sun is setting so early, even Geoff and the boys are caught off guard by the sudden darkness. It's already time to countdown the days until Thanksgiving, Christmas, Maria's first birthday, my 29th birthday... just kidding.... Seriously, time is moving. Shakin' and groovin'. Alex wants to be enrolled in a robotics class. My Mom is inviting us to Oregon for Thanksgiving. Max wants to know what kind of party we will be throwing for Maria. Other things are in the works, and so we are in our usual state of limbo. Wait and see. Wait and see. But it helps to know I am "balanced, motivated and focused." It gives me assurance to realize I know how to "kick back and live life to the fullest." Who knew?

"Every morning when I wake up, I experience an exquisite joy-the joy of being Salvador Dali-and I ask myself in rapture,

"What wonderful thing is this Salvador Dali going to accomplish today?"


I found this gem at Janece's place. I embrace it's ultra bright, insightful wisdom, and I also laugh self consciously when I imagine trying to assume the same attitude in my life:

Every morning when I wake up, I experience a dull throbbing in my temple- the realization of being behind before I've begun-and I ask myself in frustration,

"What is that smell?" or "Did I pay the rent?" or "How many pounds can I possibly lose before summer begins?" or "I wonder if there's any guacamole left?"

Think, think, think... oh forget it.
I got nothing.

Sara found something for her cat Clyde. It's gotta be a big hit with Democrat cats: chew on this.

Proof that there can never be too many *bright* ideas: Query Letters I Love

February 18, 2007

Just updating archives. This link isn't quite what I remembered.

Hmmm... I thought I could publish a movie link, but it ain't working.

It might as well still be 3 in the morning; my brain is behaving in delayed mode.

Okay.

That's about it for me.

Oh. Supposedly I am going to a baby shower... for the girlfriend of a nice guy that plays tennis with Geoff.

?!! How do we get in these situations?

My clever William has translated the June 16th Chicken Blog entry from English to Spanish, and back to English, using a Google tool. The device is fun, and the results are hilarious:

Whoa! It is one week since fixed any thing. Happy Birthday to send the account, Alex and Hans, and my breast, and soon to Julia and Phil. And the day of the flag so never is behind us, mind on that. I am having hours of the clarity, and moments of the ambition. I paid accounts, and I sent them. The maximum, Alex and I finish coming inside from a rustic food of impromptou. We separated a leaf through the turf and ate dozens of substantial red plum trees. We stretched our legs, and we shook bitter holes of the plum tree inside to the fence, and enjoyed simple pleasures. The account and Alison sent pictures of his kittys, Gracie and George bitty. They watch pretty and diversion incredibly. The breast has been sending pictures touching of its garden and coast of Oregon; where they are abundant the berries and the maturation, and the flowers are everything around. Ruth and Corm are working as hardly as always in their new home. They will move in this summer. I need to call Grandma Nancy, and I say to him that we are... I well I wish that we closest lived a whole portion to one another one. It wanted to fall close and it visits.

For your viewing pleasure: smiling sheep...



I'm so getting one of these.

Mini-Sheep

Wisdom through humor, from Laura M.


Q: Should I have a baby after 35?
A: No, 35 children is enough.

Q: I'm two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?
A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q: What is the most reliable method to determine a baby's sex?
A: Childbirth.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she's
borderline irrational.
A: So what's your question?

Q: My childbirth instructor says it's not pain I'll feel during labor, but
pressure. Is she right?
A: Yes, in the same way that a tornado might be called an air current.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?
A: Right after you find out you're pregnant.

Q: Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in
labor?
A: Not unless the word "alimony" means anything to you.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?
A: Yes! Pregnancy.

Q: Do I have to have a baby shower?
A: Not if you change the baby's diaper very quickly.

Q: Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act
normal again?
A: When the kids are in college.

Someone said, "I wouldn't write about "pee." And I guess I would, but I hope it isn't blatantly rude or very, very tacky.

I was thinking about fictitious book titles, like "Yellow River" by I.P. Freely, and "Under the Grandstands" by Seymour Butts. Now those are tacky, but I still remember being 10 years old and hearing them for the first time. I thought they were funny and sophisticated, especially "Revenge of the Tiger" by Claude Balls.