I wonder sometimes how in the world I keep from spinning off my feet. It seems that I am always running and always tired. I go and go until I crash to a stand still. I feel like I have been standing still more than going lately. I used up all my go it seems. I suppose moderation is the best thing to practice but my moderator is broken.
My husband is a rare sort of person who actually drives UNDER the speed limit. Yes, under. It is so unnerving! I am a petal to the metal type of gal. If you gotta get somewhere- go quickly! And yet the more I rush the more I feel I am missing.
Sometimes, I want to cancel everything. I want to go back to watching clouds pass in the sky and listening to the birds chirp. I want to watch my kids as they grow. To take them on adventures and take SO MANY PICTURES! I want to sneak away with my husband and remember the first years we shared. Before things became complicated and full of tasks to be completed.
Occasionally, I wish we could go back to the quieter times. When rocking a baby was my afternoon chore. When we had one rust bucket car that always idled high and had to be started with a screw driver but ran perfectly every time. When it was enough to just be and not always fly about to “get it all done”. That’s a laugh, it will never all be done here.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very thankful for what we have and for all that God has blessed us with. We really have a dream come true in the flesh. It’s just that sometimes more is simply more. What matters is not what we have but who we share it with. If you see me running around looking like a scare crow – please just push me into a chair and make me have a cup of coffee with you. I think I need some lessons on moderation.
This is my dad. I learned from the master. This guy has the fine art of silliness perfected!
So my 12 y.o. daughter has been wanting her own room for a while. We did have a room available but the flooring was questionable. There were some soft spots so we put off housing a kid up there until we were sure it wouldn’t fall through. Well, its holding strong and her desire for a bit of independence is ever so much stronger. Let the switch begin!
In unearthing some of the things found stored up there I came across a short story I had written for my kids and my nieces and nephews. I am the story-teller. The calmer of fussy toddlers and the one given the task of regaling everyone under the age of eight at family gatherings. It’s my gift to the world, lol.
Without further ado, I give you a tale of complete and utter nonsense.
THE SILLYS OF TOWNSVILLE
Once upon a time there was a family of Sillys. Mr. Silly, Mrs.Silly, Sister Silly, Brother Silly and Baby Silly. As you can imagine they were quite a silly bunch!
For breakfast the Sillys always ate a sweet dessert followed by a steak diner. That way nobody was late to the table. For lunch they invited all of their neighbors over for sandwiches on the rooftop. That’s because, as you may know, the every best sunshine is to be had at noon and the Sillys had no intention of missing it. Dinner was always enjoyed while sitting snuggly around the fire. Even the Sillys didn’t know why it had to be so but Mr. Silly supposed it was the proper thing for a Silly family to do.
If you think the Sillys were strange about meals, you should see their home. Wonderfully wacky and quite unique, it sat high up on a hilltop with a crooked stove-pipe two stories tall. (the stove pipe, not the house) Even the windows were placed so as to appear like a smiling jack-o-lantern face to those who may have passed by at night.
In spite of, or maybe because of all their silliness the Silly family was instantly loveable. They welcomed anyone into their wild little home and always had loads of fun. Perhaps that is why the Silly house always had company. Even stray cats and dogs made their way to the Silly household. Sister Silly loved to leave trails of food for all kinds of creatures and as sure as cornflowers are blue, critters would find the Silly house by way of the treats.
One dark and dreary afternoon the lights flickered once, twice and then the power went out. Mrs. Silly was just stoking the fire so she hadn’t noticed the lights go out. The two Silly children were walking home from school and Baby Silly was napping. The whole town was without power of lights. As you already know, the Sillys never used lights for the evening anyhow. They were always huddled by the fire at that time of day.
This particular day the pound was entirely overcrowded with stray animals. Dogs, cats, iguanas, rabbits, guinea pigs and even a small donkey. The power flickered once, then twice then darkness fell in the animal shelter. (which really resembled a small zoo) The locks, being electric, all gave a chorus of clicks and quick as lightning fur, feathers, yips, yowls (and a small hee-haw) erupted from the pound. Before you could say ‘shivering polecats!’ all those critters flew the coop!
The animals weren’t the only thing running amuck. The local grocery store was having it’s fair share of troubles. Mr. Arugula had been managing the Veggie Emporium for twenty years and had never seen anything like it. “Sizzling sour kraut!” he cried, as a store full of customers bumbled around like a food filled game of blind man’s bluff. Only they weren’t playing and they weren’t bluffing! They were crashing carts into one another and knocking over towers of oranges and boxed crackers in the pitch black store.
After forty seven and a half nerve damaging minutes Mr. Arugula had managed to maneuver each customer out the door into the somewhat dim (and quickly darkening) evening. Disgruntled and ungroceried they returned to their poorly lit homes to dine on leftover meatloaf and canned beets.
With the Veggie Emporium now empty Mr. Arugula began to take stock. He stared ruefully at the freezer section where the raspberry ripple ice cream had melted into an elegant pink puddle and blended with the butterscotch truffle supreme on the floor. It would have made a lovely paint color but under the circumstances he was not impressed.
The bakery down the road, Bozo Breads, wasn’t doing much better. The power had gone out right in the middle of baking the mayor’s birthday cake. I was to be the center piece for the grand celebration as well as a feast for the opening of a new aquatic center.
Actually, the celebration was meant for the grand opening for The House of Bellyflops but the mayor was never one to let the spotlight drift too far and claimed that it was “An honor to share my special day with the House of Flops grand opening!”
Now the cake could not be finished. The inside of the cake ran like lava while the outside was just beginning to firm up like a lovely golden sponge. ‘”Fiddle sticks and funnel cakes!” cried the baker Mr. Baklava. “The celebration is tomorrow! Whatever can I do?” Dismayed and disheartened he threw down his baker’s hat in disgust.
Thinking a bit of fresh air would do him some good he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the bell over the bakery door ringing behind him. I sure wish something would ring a bell he thought as he pondered over his dilemma. Not seeing the light, Mr. Baklava walked blindly along hoping a bright idea would dawn on him.
Slowly, the downtown area began to fill with shopkeepers closing down for the day. The butcher, fondly nicknamed ‘Captain Cleaver’ had to jumpstart his emergency generator to keep the meat in the cooler from spoiling at The Meatery. The air was thick with a dense fog and their was a gloomy overcast in the night sky. The generator added an eerie buzz in the background.
All seemed desperately unhappy. All that is, except the Silly children as they skipped up the walk into the front room. Mrs. Silly had the fireplace blazing merrily by then and had a bowl of hotdogs to roast for dinner. Baby Silly with downy brown hair looked like a little bird perched merrily in his high chair. “Gaa!” He exclaimed, happily tossing Cheerios into the air.
As the Sillys sat down to roast weenies for their supper, there was a knock at the door. The baker, Mr. Baklava, stood on the front step looking a bit rumpled a forlorn. Mr. Silly kindly welcomed him in for a s’more and the baker told his tale of woe.
“No problem!” exclaimed Mr. Silly. “We will just create a new dessert! A fantastic, unbelievable and worthy of the biggest belly flop dessert!” As Daddy Silly and Mr. Baklava sketched out a plan there came a scurrying, scuffing and pawing from outside.
Sister peeped out the window to find that most of the animals from the pound had indeed found a safe home on the Silly’s front porch. The Silly children gathered the leftover hotdogs (and some oatmeal and lettuce) and went outside to feed the wandering critters. Mrs. Silly called the pound and left a message to let Mrs. Woofmier know the animals were safe with the Sillys until the power outage was over.
Shortly after, there was another knock at the door. It was Mr. Arugula from the VeggieEmporium. He was headed home but stopped by to say hello to Mr. Silly. He too began to share his troubles. Soon, Mr. Silly, Mr. Baklava and Mr. Arugula locked themselves in the kitchen as “Operation Super Dessert” really began to take off.
In the morning, the sun shone brightly over the town. Mr. Silly shone twice as bright for he had hatched a brilliant plan for the celebration of the century! The Sillys quickly got ready and hopped into the car. They drove downtown zippity quick and parked under the statue of Townsville’s founding father; the great and honorable Mr. Good Founder.
Mr. Baklava hurriedly waved Mr. Silly over to a curtained off area. Mr. Arugula was there too. The whole town of Townsville turned out for the celebration. Everyone waited with giddy expectancy as the mayor, Mr. Chatterboom, took the stage. “People of Townsville, I would like to invite you to celebrate this very special day with me! My BIRTHDAY!” The townspeople coughed, one or two gave a feeble clap. The mayor continued, “It also happens to be the opening of the..um.. what’s it? Oh yes, the Flop House! Wait ! No, the ah… the Aquatic Center! To celebrate this momentous day our town baker has created a delectable dessert! I’m sure it will be just the thing to honor my …ahem, OUR special event today.” With a flourish Mr. Chatterboom waved his hand to the curtain. Suddenly it pulled back to reveal a giant slip and slide covered in ice cream with a chocolate fountain in a pool below.
The Mayor looked quite befuddled to behold the strange sight. The children, however, knew exactly what to do. They dove in face first! They were gobbling, slipping, smiling and squealing with glee!
Mr. Silly, Mr. Baklava and Mr. Arugula clapped each other no the back and shook hands as they looked on. It was a moment the people of Townsville would never forget!
I love a good thrift store. We are fortunate to have a couple of them in our town. I am in the process of setting up a command center for our home/farm. I am hoping that our schedules and to-do’s will be a bit less hectic if I can organize a place for all of our paperwork. We are still very much moving into our new home as we can only do so much at a time. It seems every project is preceded by about twenty others!
Anyhow, I have been hunting for office finds and have come across some great items to get things organized. I will try to post complete before and afters once I get everything together. My parents are going to bring a desk for me when they come next week to visit. I will be painting it to match my aqua-gold-neutral color scheme. I can hardly wait to get my “office” up and running
Right now I have a table in the dining room that is my desk and all the various things and papers that are officey are scattered in a variety of storage areas near by. One of the things my husband requested was a designated place for mail. I found this:
Mission accomplished! It gets a place of privilege on a small side table that I also bought from the thrift store for a couple bucks and painted a neutral gray/beige color.
I needed task lighting and I found this lamp at the thrift store:
It is simple and pretty and most importantly tall enough to make sure that the light will be where I need it to be.
This little key holder was from Home Depot and was just really cute. So I got it. I don’t have plans for it yet but it will match my stuff and I love it.:)
This old wire three tired tray was a thrift store find that fit in perfectly with everything and it took no paint at all – yay!
I can’t wait until I get everything painted and in place- more to come!
Looks yummy! Smells good too- but don’t eat the soap!
Today I made soap. I have only made soap once or twice before and used a very simple recipe. I had a more steps involved n the recipe I used today and got a little flustered when I reached “trace” much quicker than I anticipated but all went well and now I have a lovely oatmeal cookie soap waiting to be unmolded . Everyone keeps trying to eat it here at the house because I used a muffin tin and a bread pan for a mold. It really does look and smell like baked goods! Hopefully I can get some molds made up for future batches…. pretty sure taking a bite out of freshly made soap is not a good idea
I am hunting for the perfect shampoo bar recipe. I made one before that was heavy on the coconut oil and found that to be too drying for my hair. I am hoping to add a bit more moisture to my shampoo bar as well as all the good add ins that promote hair growth.
I have tried sulfate free shampoos and ‘no poo’ as well as CO washing with mixed results. I always end up going back to the homemade soaps as they clean well without stripping the hair and they have zero sulfates. Also, you don’t need to take out a loan to whip up a batch of soap.
The oatmeal bar that I made today will work fine for shampoo for my family but I want to dose up a batch with rosemary, lavender, tea tree and all the other hair goodies. We have varied needs as far as hair care goes so the souped up shampoo bar will most likely be just for me.
Through the course of time I noticed my hair was getting thinner and thinner and the texture became more brittle. I was careful with it but still it broke off a lot. I started my “hair health” by taking out sulfates. That helped a lot but products still left my scalp itchy and sore and my hair was not happy. I began to treat my scalp with essential oils. mainly, lavender, tea tree and cedar wood. That helped too and I notice a difference when I treat it regularly. Now, I oil my ends before and after every washing and I have started doing an egg mask once a week. I brush my hair out thoroughly at night and wither braid it or put it in a bun. I rarely (like maybe 4-5 times a year) use heat other than a hair dryer. Each step I take toward healthier hair has given my hair new life. Genetics has given me thin hair and it will probably remain that way but with care I have been able to keep it healthy.
I can’t wait to get a new batch of soap going… next up: shampoo bars, goat milk and castile 🙂
The sky is the palest sort of blue this morning. It’s the kind that I imagine fades seamlessly into the heavens. I wonder at its infinite vastness and think of how it would be to fly away. I’m sure the Wright brothers spent a lot of time looking into the blueness above.
Today I just want to be out under that great blue air. One of the things that made me fall in love with this town was the sky. I really hadn’t spent much time in a place that didn’t have overcast for about 75% of the time. Coastal living is fine in the summer but the fall, spring and winter can get pretty dreary. When we moved from the coast I left everything behind. I had a two-year old boy and my belongings. My husband dropped me off and unloaded the U-haul then left for 2 weeks. I had a phone but no washer, dryer or hot water. I had no friends or acquaintances. I had no money. I had no car.
I remember riding my bike to the grocery store with my baby in the buggy- praying that I didn’t lose any food on my way up the hill. I remember swinging with my baby in a deserted playground, nobody was out in the August heat. I remember washing my comforter in the bath tub and hanging it outside on a rope in the car port.
It was a lonely time but I also remember calling my mom. She was worried as any mother would be. I told her “It’s ok mom, the sky is blue here.” I love this sky. It can be the hottest day of summer or the coldest day of winter and that sky gets me every time. It’s beautiful!
One of the writing prompts was ‘parenting’. Loaded topic if you ask me. No expert advice here but all my kids can cook and they have all appendages still attached. I think that deserves a little bonus point right there.
If there is one thing I have learned it is that no kid is exactly like another. Parenting needs to reflect that. Of course standard safety rules apply. Don’t run with knives, don’t talk to strangers, etc. All safety aside, what I do with my kids may be polar opposite to your parenting style and vice versa. You have to figure that parenting is much like a toddler’s appetite. As long as you get the 5 major food groups into that kid over the course of a week it is not so imperative that they ingest them all in one meal. Same thing with parenting. When you are doing your best to raise a happy, healthy functioning adult that contributes to society you will have days when you do all the good things. You will have days when you mess up royally. Over the course of a week’s time if you get more good than not- you’re probably going in the right direction.
My kids do chores. I love chores. I really do. I love working together and getting stuff done! My kids, not so much. They will thank me later. If you don’t have chores at your house you might have a cleaner house than mine because you have someone who is more detail oriented doing the cleaning. My house is cleaned by kids. You are welcome to visit anytime but please keep that thought in mind if you do.
We have animals and the kids feed them. I feed the kids. That’s the current system. Once in a while they feed me. It’s a pretty sweet deal. See, if you teach them to cook your house may be a disaster but they will want to practice and then you get a meal and they get life skills. Then they can clean up during chore time. It’s great. We are all winners!
Anyway, each to his own on this parenting gig. I have seen kids who stay up with mom and dad until 12 every night. They stagger into school and try to stay awake. I think “What is wrong with these parents!”… BUT, the kid is fed, well dressed and most importantly, LOVED. I don’t dictate their bedtime. (although I wish I could on test day)
One of the things that kind of hurts my hear is to see kids that miss their parents. Not because they are away but because they never see them. When both mom and dad are working it’s tough to squeeze in time for those kids. If I could I would change that too.
I am not perfect and neither are you. Let’s just move forward from there. What works for one will not work for all so let’s accept our differences. Being a mom is tough work. It’s messy and thankless. It has no glory or trophy. Why do we have to make it harder on one another? I vow to help a mom in need and to love my fellow mama. We cannot walk in one another’s shoes but we can be more understanding.
We have witnessed the beauty of Mt. Rushmore at dusk. We have toured Yellowstone in the heat of the summer. We have skied in the Tetons in the chill winter. As we traveled and took in the sights of this lovely land we drew closer to our country somehow.
I will remain proud of this country. Many of those near and dear to me have served to keep us safe and free. I will hold my head high for them and honor those that have fought battles that I never could.
Wikipedia had this to say when I looked up the word nation:
Ernest Renan‘s What is a Nation? (1882) declares that “race is confused with nation and a sovereignty analogous to that of really existing peoples is attributed to ethnographic or, rather linguistic groups”, and “The truth is that there is no pure race and that to make politics depend upon ethnographic analysis is to surrender it to a chimera”, echoing a sentiment of civic nationalism. He also claims that a nation is not formed on the basis of dynasty, language, religion, geography, or shared interests. Rather, “A nation is a soul, a spiritual principle. Two things, which in truth are but one, constitute this soul or spiritual principle. One lies in the past, one in the present. One is the possession in common of a rich legacy of memories; the other is present-day consent, the desire to live together, the will to perpetuate the value of the heritage that one has received in an undivided form”, emphasizing the democratic and historical aspects of what constitutes a nation, although, “Forgetting, I would even go so far as to say historical error, is a crucial factor in the creation of a nation”. “A nation is therefore a large-scale solidarity”, which he said is reaffirmed in a “daily plebiscite“.[4]
In these times may we still posess the desire to live together and remain united.
My mind is a perpetual brainstorm. So many great (and not so great) ideas flying around so fast that I can’t think straight. I tried journaling but I may have misplaced one (or a dozen??) notebooks and they never seem to be where I am when I want to write. I have a planner with a “brain dump” page where I can throw ideas down on a page as fast as they fly at me. That helps with the initial weeding out process. I look back and find that there are some pretty awesome things that I have come up with and some pretty unrealistic projects that will never happen.
Blogging was something I turned to as a daily outlet for my mind. I need to get so many words out a day – probably more than the average person. I was falling behind on my daily quota, WAY behind. My husband is not much of a talker and will panic if I get going on projects that I would like to do or things that require planning. He gets testy…. We can’t have that.
I have to say I love that I can chronologically organize my thoughts and ideas. I can add pictures to whatever is on my mind that day. It’s been great. I hope somebody out there enjoys reading this stuff and if I can help anybody along the way then two people have benefitted from it!
I write a lot about animals but the truth is there is a lot to be said. I like most critters that are feathered or furred. I’ll admit it can be stinky business at times. It just kinda happens so you have to expect it. Animals are messy. Also expect the unexpected. They will do the craziest things and get into the strangest predicaments.
I love keeping animals. There are some obvious bonuses to the business. Our sweet bunnies are cute, furry, cuddly, etc. Our chickens give us eggs and have interesting personalities. Beyond that they are calming. They are dependent on you and that is both humbling and encouraging all at once. They don’t talk back so you can say whatever is on your mind and they just go about their day. They are always happy to see you- because you feed them. Aside from providing our daily meat (or at least a portion of our meat) our animals teach us so much more.
Responsibility. It’s a good word. It gets you up in the morning and gives you a daily opportunity to look past your own needs.
Work. Positively occupying our bodies is a must. What would we do otherwise? Answer: probably squander time on things that we shouldn’t.
Nurturing. It’s pretty amazing to see my drama queen daughter dutifully care for her bunnies as tenderly as a loving mother.
Science and Health. I love watching my teen son learn how to nurse a sick goat back to health and try to figure out how we should alter its diet for optimal growth. They just don’t teach this stuff in school.
I really can’t say enough good things about farm life. Have I convinced you yet?Photo credits on this pic go to my friend Carolyn. She captured the farm at sunset one evening when it was looking its rosy best. Love!
I love my garden. It is quite taken over by thistles at the edges and if you aren’t careful they might even goose you as you harvest those down low squash. I love the magnitude of it. It is far larger than any I have ever grown before. The size is roughly 1/4 of an acre. I was wanting double that but simply ran out of gas in my tank when planting time rolled around. I am thankful I did! It was a lot of work to manage what I did plant.
Previous gardens I had needed heavy amending to the soil and I was strapped for time this year. I had my son plow it up and furrow some rows and I planted my little heart out. There were no soil tests and no guarantees. It was hit or miss. That is what I love about gardening. There is a certain element of chance. You can til, plant, water and weed but ultimately the Creator wakes that seed up and sends notice that it is time to grow.
Everyone around me had gardens putting out produce before I did and I wondered if my reckless gardening style had bitten me in the backside again. And then…something wonderful happened. The plants decided they were simply late bloomers and started to produce at their leisure. I harvest about every third day and get new surprises every time. The marigolds have got to be a giant breed. They are taller than my first grade class! No kidding guys, they are amazing.
I have yet to get the whole canning/preserving thing down. (SO.MUCH.WORK.) I would have to put everything on hold for a month just to get it all done. Since this is my first year I’m gonna give myself some leeway. Next year, I’ll get to canning like nobody’s business!
As I get ready to put the garden to bed I can’t help but tie it into my life. (what can I say, I find double meanings in everything)
Hard work. Check.
Late bloomer. Check.
A little uncertain. Check.
In the hands of the Creator. Check.
Ok God, You made the garden bloom- what can You do with me?
Photo credits on this pic go to my friend Carolyn. She captured the farm at sunset one evening when it was looking its rosy best. Love!
Hennekes At Home 