Monday, May 21, 2012

Growing UP!

Things are looking up around here. The boys are whittling like crazy.  Chips are flyin'.  I'm waiting for fingers to be lopped off, but that's why Paul Bunyan is around.  They both spent their own money on knives.  Knives!  Whittling I tell ya!  I told them I wanted spoons.  They told me they wanted very sharp sticks to poke into each other's eyes.  So, yeah, things are looking up!

The asparagus is looking up too!  I've read so many sources I can't figure out whether to harvest or not, in this its second year, so I opted for NOT harvesting and letting Bee knock off a few while she rips through my garden tuckin' butt.  Should be a very productive gardening year unless I get my fence built.  Or unless I shock the shit out of her when I finally get that training collar.   Yea, because we've messed it all up!

Oh, hello there STRAWBERRY plants.   We're going to be seriously sweet, thanks to HER,  in a few weeks.   Things are definitely looking up.

 And here we go....Mt. Hood, Cascade, Continental.  Climb that trellis!  We're makin' beer.  Beer, I tell ya!

Look at this thing!  Paul Bunyan almost lost his shit at the top of the forks trying to tie those top knots.   All good things come to those who wait for things to climb toward the heavens.

Not official yet, but a weekend that tasted just like summer, with all of its friends and hot dogs and pond dipping and ziplining and biking and ice cream cones and camping and frisbee and bugs and beer and bugs in beer and bathing suits that are too small.  Sheeite.  Whittle a little off of me boys!

And this came too.   And so now when I climb my stairs every day I get to look at her looking down at me.  Paul Bunyan says she looks sad.  But I think it really shows her peaceful spirit.  And it gives me a little hope that maybe Bee will someday be a calm soul like Liebe.  But I don't remember Liebe ever loving to pop kick balls as much as Bee does, and I certainly don't ever remember her loving to dig in the garden as much as Bee does, and I don't ever remember Liebe eating the heads off all of my tulips, or chewing off the top of every water bottle we own, or ruining every collar we have, or ever wanting to eat the cat's head off, or....

Well, let's just leave it at hoping for greatness because one can never know how things grow.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Dear Mom,

Dear Mom, I realize that sending you a Mother's Day card is a fairly simple thing to do.  But it's always the simple things that I have the hardest time with.  So, I'm sorry I missed another year.  It does not mean that I love you any less.  Or that I'm not grateful for all that you do.

And I don't think I've ever realized all that you have done for me until I became a mother too.  There is no way to truly understand the sacrifices a mother makes until you turn into one.


So, there was no way for me to realize that I needed to thank you for washing my clothes, making my bed, cleaning up my puke, making dinner every night (even if it was Minute steaks or microwaved mac n' cheese), washing the dishes, packing my lunches, or running the shower for me in the mornings so I could get out of my very warm bed while it was still dark out to go to high school- until I had to do it for my spawn.

You were so sweet to make me my favorite fondue for my birthdays.

And you were always, always there- whether it was IN my dance recitals,

or as a soccer coach, which is still incredibly (incredibly) impressive now that I know how NOT athletic you are.

You sewed brides maid dresses for me.

And came to all of my games, even if it meant driving all the way across the country- to Iowa and back.

So, now, every time I pick up one of my kid's socks on the floor, or put their shoes to the side instead of in the middle of the mud room, or pack a snack, or help them with homework, or wipe down the friggin' dinner table- I think of how many times you must have done this for us.  Every time I drive the boys to soccer or Claire to dance, or go on a field trip, or sacrifice a little bit of my time for them, I realize YOU did this for me.  So, in a sense, I'm paying it forward.  And when I'm done paying it forward and I've sent them on their way into the world, I hope on a future Mother's Day I'll be able to sit in a Lafuma chair and read a friggin' book and maybe take a nap and possibly NOT do any laundry, or dishes, or make dinner for that matter like you did today.  You deserve this!  Happy Mom's Day Mom- I am grateful for all you did and I'm amazed you never once complained about it.  Because, yea, that's something I still have to work on.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Sounds of Shearing

Nothing is certain but death and taxes.  So someone said.  Taxes for sure.  Maybe death this December.  So Nostradamus says.  Well, I know for certain that every year I turn a year older, closer to death, and because of that, on my birthday, I eat ice cream for breakfast.  The older I get the more I eat.  Soon, I'll be needing more than two pints. 

Children will lose teeth, grow, eat and leave their socks around.  The seasons will change.  Paul Bunyan will cut down trees.  The weeds will grow in my garden, more than the vegetables.  The hydrangea tree by the pond will only bloom a few blooms.  My oven will always be dirty.  These are just the things I can always rely on.

And on the first Monday in May we shear the alpacas.  It's been that way since the beginning- whenever that was.  And it has never rained.  Until this year when we switched it today- a Tuesday.   But it didn't matter because it's still a really really dirty job, whether it's muddy or not.  I'm the one responsible for picking up all the fiber and separating it into plastic bags.  There are three parts to the fiber- the blanket, which comes off the alpaca first, the seconds (neck) and the thirds, which are the legs and face and head and tail and shit and pee and vomit.  Paul Bunyan holds their heads while Tom, the shearer, does his work.  He gets spit on and thrown around a little.  And it's dirty.  You get fiber in your mouth, up your nose and under your toes.  And the smell stays with you.  For a long time.  And there really is nothing you can do...but laugh.

I hope this video gives you a sense of how funny it sometimes can be: