What's old is new again

Way back when.. Like somewhere around 2001, I worked for Agency A, as did Top Dawg (from the "I have a pea" story).  That was, of course, before his lofty Top Dawg status.  Our Governor was the charismatic Governor K  (who happend to have a wife named Sharon, which may be the only reason I liked him -  but that's another story.)

As the story goes, Top Dawg went on to bigger and better things, eventually landing as the Top Dog at Agency B.  Governor K was replaced with Governor K2 and life went on for little ol' me, oblivous to how any of this political roulette affected my place in the world.

Well.. wouldn't you know it but ex-Governor K was re-elected this year?  And wouldn't you just know it that the new Governor: ex-Governor K wants Top Dawg back at Agency A?

The move was announced and completed today and now I've lost Top Dawg as my friend and ally at Agency B.  I hope that I have thoroughly proven my worth at Agency B or I might be looking for peas again!

As it happened, within an hour of this devastating announcement Top Dawg and I stumbled upon each other at a local eatery.  He sat at our table and participated in a bit of chit-chat.  Some World of Warcraft conversation with  my dining companion (his character "Bin" has reached the ripe old age of 84 and he's hoping to get him to 85 this weekend - apparently a magic number in WOW - I tried not to let my complete uninterest show as my eyes glazed over and my head began to nod.)  There was also a bit of conversation about this upheaval.  He is but a political puppet really.  At his level you go where you are appointed or you get kicked to the curb. 

I did not beg, but I did mention that I've heard Agency A was experiencing significant Sharon withdrawals and customers were complaining that nothing was getting resolved without me (and my team) and that perhaps it might be a good idea to bring me back over.. for the next 183 days anyway.

After that.. none of it matters because I'm SO OUTTA HERE!  (insert evil laughter here).

Hello Stranger!

Me:  Allow me to re-introduce myself.  My name is Sharon.  I'm your owner.
Poor Abandoned, Neglected Treadmill:  Who? 
Me:  Your owner.  I know you haven't seen me in months but I'm here to re-stake my claim as your rightful lord and master.
Treadmill: I don't know you.  MY owner promised to take me for walks and runs and promised to never use me as a clothes hanger.  I've been sitting out here, alone, in the cold, with nothing but a bunch of junk to snuggle with.
Me:  I know.  I'm sorry.  But in all fairness.  I haven't used you as a clothes hanger.  You've been more like storage shelves, what with the boxes and other assorted stuff stacked upon your belt.
Treadmill:  Ooof!  uh.. put on a little?  I'm not sure I'm rated for this much. Have you checked the manual?
Me:  Be nice.  You'll be fine.  Hey.. crank up the music a bit, would ya?  I can't hear it over my wheezing.
Treadmill:  Spandex??!  Really?  Even Lycra has it's limits!  What happened to you anyway?
Me:  I said be nice!  It's been a rough year and a half.  I lost a couple friends to cancer.  My dog died.  My guinea pig died.  I lost my job.  I lost my Mom to dementia, then she died too.  My son moved out, he crashed his car, my daughter is growing up and is getting increasingly challenging.  It's been rough.  I tried to eat my way through the pain.
Treadmill:  I'm sorry.  Really I am.  How'd that work out for you?
Me:  Not so well.
Treadmill:  I can tell.  You should have come to see me instead.  I could have helped.
Me:  Yeah, I know.  Sometimes the right thing isn't always the easiest thing.  Besides, I was raised to believe that food fixes everything.
Treadmill:  I could have told you that wouldn't work.
Me:  NOW you tell me.    What is that incessant pounding I hear??
Treadmill:  I think that's your heart rate.  It appears to be off the charts.
Me:  Whew. I should probably stop before something important bursts.  I'll see you again soon though.  Maybe next time we can get through a second song on the mp3 player.
Treadmill:  Come back anytime.  I'll be waiting.

Mary Hotho

Mom, about 1942

My mom died Monday.  It was swift and peaceful.  She had been struggling with her health for years, she was so very tired and I know she was confident she had finished her business here.

Within hours my brother, Jerry was on a plane headed west, Peter was in his car headed south and my friend Sherry showed up at my door to "just be there" for me.  I am blessed by these people and so many others.  This world is full of good humans.

As Jerry and I were sitting at the funeral home yesterday we were charged with writing her obituary.  Not an easy task, but they had this handy form to prompt your memories and give you ideas to write about.  A couple things came to light.  Mom loved flowers.  She could bring a dead, shriveled up, hopeless scrap of a plant back to life and make it explode in the glory of it's plantness.  It would thrive and grow.  I shall never see an angel wing begonia and not think of her. 

The second thing that stood out about my mom is her love for her family.  She struggled long and hard for children and considered Jerry and I precious gifts, rarely letting an opportunity pass without letting us know.  In fact, while going through her things yesterday we found several notes confirming that very thing, specifically put there for us to find after she "was gone."

My mom's love for us was so strong it was sometimes stifling.  Jerry wasn't allowed to go to Germany and I wasn't allowed to smoke, drink, have sex or go outside the boundaries of 82nd, 182nd, Powell and Halsey without permission.  It was completely awful.  (not.)

Mom taught me to be strong, to allow myself to depend on another, as long as I knew I could do it on my own if I had to.  She taught me to bake, sew, swing a hammer, pour concrete and tear up concrete.  She never managed to teach me to do laundry very well.  I can live with that.

Cleverly and subtly, by example, she taught me to pay attention to which garage door I opened before backing the car out.  She taught me drills can go in reverse and that drilling 100+ holes takes a lot longer if that is the setting.  She taught me how to be a good mom.

She taught me to love my children, to love my life and to appreciate all the wonders in the world.

Now.. for a few of my favorite Mom quotes:

• Look kids!  There's a deer!
• Look kids!  There's a hawk!
• Look kids!  A mailbox!
• Why would he buy the cow when he can get the milk for free??
• I should trade you for a rubber duck!
• Well plutycrat!  (that would be pronounced ploo-teeee-crat)
• Call me when you get there!
• You know what I thought did? (except I could never actually remember what I thought did)

Mary Hotho, 1925 - 2010
Ernie Hotho, 1928 - 1992

Love you Mom.  Say Hi to Dad.  Call me when you get there.

I'm NOT afraid of heights!

I went north this weekend.  Peter lured me up there with promises of fun.  He said it was going to rain.  Torrential downpour he said.  The rain would keep us from outside work he said.  Instead of working on Saturday we would go visit friends in Vancouver.  Janet Jackson for one (really that's her name.. only she's not Michael's sister.  This Janet Jackson is 101 years old and a family friend).  He told me it wouldn't hurt to bring my overalls.. but we'll probably just be sociallizing and having fun..

Saturday morning brings ... overcast skies and.. no rain.  None.   Work it is then.   Oh well - I thought it didn't REALLY matter because at least I was spending it with him.  I don my trusty overalls and out we go.  First, we move a pallet full of roofing.  Then came the task of cleaning the roof of the "schoolhouse" and clearing the gutters.  Peter deftly scampered up the 12 foot ladder and onto the roof to begin clearing moss.  I was invited up.  Uh.. no.  No.. I think I need to go take my new birthday bike for a spin. Which I did.  I barely got to the far edge of the property before guilt set in though.  So I came back.  I stared up at him.  I climbed up the ladder.  I surveyed the roof.  I climbed back down.  I wasn't going to get up there!  So I started clearing the gutters from the ladder.  The process went like this.. Climb up, scoop goop out, climb down, move the ladder, climb up, scoop goop, climb down, move the ladder..   The entire west side of the building. 

Then I went to the east side.  The ladder wouldn't fit. I tried this way, that way and every way.. There were just too many trees, flowerbeds and hostas in the way.  The only way to get those gutter cleared was from the roof.  It just couldn't be done any other way.  So I carried this 1,000 pound ladder (that's what it felt like by then) back around to the other side and I climbed up it. 

There was the roof.  There I was high on the ladder.  There was the ground, 12 feet below me.  I paused for far too long contemplating the transfer of my weight from ladder to roof.  It just made it worse.  But finally I took a deep breath and went for it.  There I was.  On the roof.  Standing up, however, was another thing entirely!  I crawled to the peak on my knees and ever-so-slowly stood up. I'm not sure why I thought standing up at the peak would be better than standing up lower.  Then I walked down to the east edge, sat down and started cleaning the gutter, and scooted the whole length of the building on my back side.  Here are my overalls to prove it:

The rain finally hit hours later.  Stupid weather.  But at least I know the gutters are working well!

The story..

About a month ago, through a series of events that were full of drama, revenge and distrust, it was brought to my attention that my beloved daughter was smoking. SMOKING!! Just days after she looked me in the eye and said, "I will never smoke, that is disgusting!"

I'm proud of myself. I remained calm, after a fashion. I waited a full day before I spoke to her about it. I calmly put her under house arrest for a month. I calmly froze her allowance and her debit card. I calmly took away her car keys and I calmly applied parental controls to her phone to made it shut off every night at 10:30.

After two weeks I was tired of driving her to school so she got her car back for that. Nothing else though. Last week her grades came in: A, A, A, A, A, A, B. Not too shabby - and apparently she's smarter than she appeared when she started smoking. I rewarded her with an extra 1/2 hour of phone time at night. Then I hit upon a brilliant idea and proposed it to her. She could write me an essay. If she wrote it and convinced me she learned her lesson, I would lift her house arrest a full week early. Of course, she would still be on probation and we would have random smell-checks and purse searches.  She agreed and  the following is her essay.

If you knew about something that killed 430,000 people a year, you wouldn't think to do it, but about 25% of Americans do. Smoking cigarettes is much more dangerous than just getting lung cancer. There are many more repercussions that are also very severe, and repercussions that aren't nearly as dangerous, like to your appearance, and your wallet. The fact of the matter is, there is no positive light to such a deadly addiction.



Most people are aware that smoking can cause lung cancer, but most people don't know that of the 430,000 people that die every year, 180,000 of them die from cancer. Over 1,000 people die every single day from smoking, thats about 1 in 6 people. The statistics are frightening, over 3,000 people die every 3 days, thats how many people died on September 11th.

The cause for all these deaths are more in-depth than just smoking alone. It's what is in the cigarrette that causes sickness and harm. About 4,000 toxic substances are absorbed into the bloodstream within seconds of inhaling on a cigarette. It also increases your cholesterol and blood pressure. Smoking raises your blood pressure by 5-10 mm Hg for about 30 minutes, if combined with caffiene, the effects are bigger and last longer. Another frightening fact: smokers are twice as likely to have heart-attacks.


Another reason not to smoke, is for vanity. If you care about your looks, you shouldn't want to smoke. It causes pre-mature aging, and wrinkles. It also stains your teeth and gums, pales your skin, and gives you bad breath. Just the smell alone is very disgusting. 67% of people think seeing someone smoking, is a turn-off.


The smell of smoke stays in your clothes, hair and skin. If you smoke in your car or house, this will deeply impact your wallet. A person who smokes has to pay more for insurance, the resale value of a car or house is damaged, and they take about 25% more sick days than non-smokers. A person who smokes three packs a week, spends about $1,000 a year on cigarettes. And don't forget all the perfume and cologne people buy in attempt to cover up the odor.


My personal experience with smoking lasted about four months. This is not a long time in a normal spectrum of things, but just smoking for that long I could feel a very large difference in my breathing, stamina, and over-all health. I play the trombone, a large wind instrument, and after smoking, it became more challenging to play because smoking affects your lungs, and makes breathing more shallow. This leads to bad breath control which not only makes it harder to play but makes it harder for you to control the sound coming from your instrument. I also used to run cross-country. Now, after only four months, I can barely run down the street without becoming very short of breath and exausted. When I began smoking it seemed as though it was because I was surrounded by friends doing it, and I did it as well socially. I now expect to see my friends, and worry for their health. Now that I fully understand the severe consequences of smoking for even a short period of time can cause I have no intention of ever going back to smoking cigarettes, but making it my personal mission to help my peers to quit as well.


Smoking is one of the most dangerous activities a person can engage in. If you felt like risking your life, you could try bungee jumping, only 27 people have ever died from that. Only about 16 people die every year sky diving. Compared to the 430,000 people a year that die from smoking, skydiving sounds much safer. There is no such thing as safe smoking. It is the worlds leading cause of preventable disease.

She is now free to roam with friends, I hope she is armed with tools to stay smoke-free.  She says she is.

Down in the dumps

My house went on a crash diet. One day, 1100 pounds. The Monday before Thanksgiving Peter and I tore down the temporary wall we had put up to make a room for my mom out of the dining room. (Was that a proper sentence? I don't think so.) I have my dining room back though!

The result of the tear-down was a garage full of drywall, 2x4's and assorted de-construction debris. I also had bits and pieces of decking from the deck replacement I did several years ago stacked in a corner of the yard. I had firewood that was gathered for camping trips but instead sat in the rain rotting and like any normal household (I choose to believe) I had broken this, damaged that, old those and some trashed whazzits. Three trips to the dump later it's all gone!

It's such a liberating feeling. I could probably have made a 4th trip - but by the end of the day, which also included a trip to the Christmas tree farm, mowing lawns, raking leaves, sweeping debris, cutting up drywall, pallets, boards and other stuff, I was exhausted . I'm encouraged and I am casting my eyes around the place trying to identify what can go next.

Of course I have a chicken story too! I was working on the cement pad on the side of the house yesterday cutting up stuff to make it fit in my SUV. I was making noise. Lots of noise. On the other side of the gate were my chickens. They could hear me. They were curious about the racket. Carmen flew up onto the gate to see what I was doing. Who knew chickens were curious? Now I have to worry about my chickens visiting the neighbors!

And then there is the dog. I have no explanation for this. It's like.. uh. against the laws of nature or something. Dog & Katten sleeping together.. it's just wrong!

Knitting knitting knitting

Well.. it's finally happened. I've thrown myself into my knitting. It took me forever, but I finally finished the project I worked on all summer. Then I finally made Peter his long-promised hat. Now I have three (yes THREE) knitting projects going at the same time.

One of my projects is a Christmas gift for Peter... only I found out he doesn't need it and he already has a version of it. My eagerness to finish this project for him has waned considerably.

Then I began working on some more coffee cup cozies. I thought they would make perfect gifts for co-workers and casual aquaintances. After a full week, I've got one partially done. Perhaps I should re-think this gift idea.

My third project is a "green grocer bag." It's a reusable shopping bag that is knitted in a lace pattern. This is a new thing for me and I'm really liking it! (not only that.. but this is NOT a felted project!).

The Katten insisted on being in the picture of my grocer bag - plus the picture doesn't do it justice. At all!

Other things are plugging away in my household.

• We've toured two colleges for Jill. She's made up her mind (Seattle Art Institute) but I keep insisting she look at others.
• We tore the temporary wall down that created my mother's bedroom. Unfortunately the contractor I hired put up my temporary wall as a mostly permanent installation. I have severe drywall damage to the permanent structure.
• My mother is gaining strength and mobility after she fractured her pelvis. Although right now she seems to be suffering from a touch of the flu.
• I'm down to just over 200 days and I've started moving some stuff up to Peters with every trip we make north.

How time flies!

I should blog..

I should write profound thoughts about chickens and goats and goals and work. Deep musings on my future life and progress made to get there.

The truth is.. Today. Just today, I'm giving in. I'm giving up. I'm tired of fighting. I just got home from a weekend north with Peter. Every time I go I must make arrangements for my mother to be taken care of. I must make arrangements for my daughter. I must beg favors from others. I must reschedule and rearrange appointments.

Then I go and while I'm gone chaos ensues back home. Anarchy and discontent thrive.

Here is a public statement - I am grateful to all my friends who are always there for me. I am blessed to have such people in my life.

I am certain that once things calm down here and my children start talking to each other, and me, again, that I will have a better outlook on life.

Oh.. wait. I'm better already. I knew it wouldn't last!

It seems so weird..

It seems so weird to have had a "normal" weekend after such a tragedy. But that's what happened. I guess life must go on. Peter came down on Thursday and off to the beach we went.

Low tide in Lincoln City was about 11:30p.m. At midnight we were crawling around the beach hunting agates and poking around in tidepools. I confess that for a few minutes, while Peter thought I was eagerly hunting rocks, I simply stared out at the dark ocean contemplating life and death.

It was good for me. Peter called it therapy. It was.

Saturday we went to Lebanon to visit Babs & David. Every year they have a big Halloween party. Peter and I went as conjoined twins. We took two shirts and sewed them together. We wore the costume for about 5 minutes. It was just impossible to eat and drink dressed that way.

Babs and David have 4 little goats. I got to pet them and talk to them. Man, I can't wait to have my own goats! They are SO cute!!

Sunday we finally got around to bottling our mead and liquer. We ended up with 32 bottles each of raspberry, blackberry, and a raspberry/blackberry blend liqueur as well as 17 quarts of Mead.

Making the mead was such learning experience, streching the bounds of our relationship. Bottling it was so very different. Peter and I seem to have figured out the whole working together thing. We functioned like a well oiled machine (and I don't mean we were drinking while we bottled.. uh.. much - a little tasting was required of course.)

This is encouraging, we may just be able to build a house together after all!

Penny

We met in 10th grade. I wish I remembered how, exactly

When we were 16 we would go shopping at Eastport Plaza or Lloyd Center. We would each pick out the ugliest outfit we could find and know the other one would love it. We would go to Newberries and eat groovy goblet sundaes and french fries for lunch.

When we were 19 we piled our suitcases in my 1967 volkswagon bug and headed south. Our destination? Disneyland. The first time I ever ate cheesecake. We took in Universal Studio's and conquered L.A. traffic. We were so brave!

When we were 22 we went to Great Britain. We stayed in bed and breakfasts. We got drunk on gin at Beefeaters. Laughed about the lost lid to a tube of toothpaste until we were, literally, sitting on the bathroom floor in tears. We had the best tea ever on the night train from London to Edinborough. Together we committed breaking and entering in Wales.

In our early 20's we would dress up on Halloween and hit the bar scene - or go to a local party.. like this one. That's Penny.. the pink princess!

We shared secrets.


When we were 25 we went on a party cruise to Vancouver, B.C. - she had a way better time than I did. I was whiney and tired and I think she danced all night.

When we were 28 we shared an apartment for about a month. We decided that wasn't a very good idea.

We didn't see near enough of each other in our 30's. Somewhere in here she got a tattoo. Without me. I was crushed.

When we were in our 40's she invited me to be the official photographic journalist when she shaved her head in preparation for chemo.

4 years ago we tried the dress up and go out on Halloween thing again. It's just wasn't the same - but at least we were able to laugh at ourselves!

Three weeks ago we watched Avatar together in her hospital room.

Now she is gone.

Someone really REALLY needs to find a cure for cancer.

It is "Fall" afterall...

It turns out my mom fractured her pelvis in her recent fall. I took her to the doctor on Thursday because she did not seem to be getting better. They checked her directly into the hospital. They ran tests. The xray of her lungs indicate all is well. The xray of her head indicates the same old stuff we already knew. The xray of her hips indicated a fractured pelvis. she probably glows in the dark now. They've succeeded in gettering her up on her feet twice today and now I am preparing to take her to an elevated care facility that will tend to her more thoroughly than her present place.

While I've been dealing with the mom crisis and work deadlines Peter has been re-roofing his mother's house. All by himself. He spent several days on the roof ripping off old roofing, replacing rotted boards, putting up those other supporting boards (which have a technical name but I don't remember what they are) and such. Then it started to rain. He worked through the night, in the rain, by himself.

Men.

At least he didn't fall. He did end up with swollen knees, sore feet, sore hands, sore elbows and more. My manly he-man turned into a whiney man (his words not mine) for all of yesterday. Today he announced that he was all recovered and he's back up on the roof.

Men!
But man I love this one. Whiney-butt or not.

A reflection on the past year

A year ago I had just moved my mother into her new home. My life and world were in complete chaos and upheaval. My mom was unwell, work was odd (to say the least) and my son had left for college in California.

It's so weird to think about where things are now.

My Mother is mentally WAY better. She knows stuff, she knows people. She doesn't think I'm Sharon, or the other Sharon or even Susan these days. She did take a tumble this week and I took her to the Silverton Emergency Room where she was x-rayed from head to low back. Nothing broken, but she's quite sore and bruised. She is presently flat on her back and on pain meds which cause her behavior to remind me so much of last year (this is probably the cause of my introspection). But her prognosis is good - even if she doesn't remember she fell, what day it is or what city she lives in.

My son is living back here in Salem. He never went back to California after his car crash. He's living with his girlfriend (oops - fiance I understand) about 2 miles from my house and every now and then I get to see him. He's well, but semi-unemployed and looking for full time work. He's a good kid and despite my regularly scheduled irritation with him, I love him.

My daughter got her Senior photos done today. She's having a great year. She got accepted for an art internship and is preparing to go off to the Seatlle Art Institute next year.

It's just the two of us girls kicking around in this big house (well - plus two cats, a dog and three chickens - all girls!!) - and we still can't keep it clean.

I was hired at my new job for a specific project (an intranet website built in SharePoint) with a deadline of October 15. Today is the 17th. I didn't make it. WE didn't make it - I refuse to take full responsibility for this debaucle - our only technical person was out for 2 weeks with bronchitis during a critical stage of development. Let's blame the sicky I say! The good news is - we will be debuting the software and website on Tuesday - just 4 days late. It does not appear I will be fired for missing by 4 days - although my boss might decide to rethink the "build a statue in your honor" promise he issued a few weeks ago.

I think I'm done reflecting.. now.. to look forward. I have
256 days
(approximately 36 weeks!). Let's do math though. I can't do much on work days so I'll only count weekends. That's just
72 days.
But.. of course, I go to Peter's one weekend a month so take away 16 days for that..
56 days.
When Peter is here we only work one day of the weekend so I need to take away 8 days for that.
48 days.
There will be days where I must tend to my mother's needs so let's factor in 2 days a month for her. That's dropping us to
32 days.
Peter and I are planning a trip to Florida next May - that will include two weekends.
28 days.
At some point I'm going to need groceries and clothing and trips to the hardware store. 1 day a month?
20 days.
I can't work non-stop for the next 8 months. I think I deserve ONE day a month to play.
12 days.
I've been invited to a Halloween party the 30th of October at 3:00.. that blows the ENTIRE day.
11 days.
Don't forget the regular Easter Weekend trip to to the beach.
9 days.
I'm not working over Christmas. That's just silly.
7 days.

I've got a week to pack up and move. Yikes.

Thanks for Breakfast Lucy!

Lucy has continued to work hard. The Carmen's not so much. Enough eggs were gathered by today to make breakfast. French Toast.




Jill told me she was frightened to eat them because they came from a chicken's butt.

If this were a movie this is where you would hear complete silence except for the crickets chirping in the distance.

Does she think eggs from a grocery store are man-made? She's a smart girl. I'm certain she knows better. She MUST know better. Mustn't she?


I made french toast anyway.

I have to admit, it was very hard for me to break her eggs. I feel bad. It's silly, but she worked so hard to make them.

This morning when she layed her egg she cackled and announced her magnificent fete like it was the biggest deal on the earth. I was afraid the nighbors would complain about the racket.

I heartlessly took it, cracked it open, whisked it and ate it.

And you know what? It was very tasty!

The egg yolks were very orange.

Jill broke down and had some french toast ala Lucy. She said she could taste the difference between Lucy eggs and store-bought eggs.

Now if the Carmens would just get busy I can really feast.

Let there be egg!

One perfect, little, magnificent egg.

Today Lucy was behaving very oddly. She wasn't hanging around with the Carmens. She kept climbing on top of things (like the barbeque next to the window) and clucking and talking loudly. She had a lot to say too. I just wish I had known what she was talking about. Despite Lucy's obvious need to chat, Jill and I went off running errands and came back to find Lucy missing. The Carmens came to meet me but Lucy was no where to be found. I looked under the bushes. I called for her. I was beginning to panic. I looked in the night house and still no Lucy.

I called for Jill to come and help me look. My mind was racing, my imagination working overtime. .. something had come into the yard and killed her. She flew the coop and was wandering around the neighborhood. Any number of things could have happened to my beloved Lucy! The horrors my mind was concocting!

I was very worried and getting worrieder by the second!

Jill finally spied her nestled down in a box full of rocks in the pergola. She did not appear inclined to budge any time soon. We stood there staring at her, wondering what her problem was. She stared back. Then, as if to show us what she had done, she slowly stood up, and there, underneath her, nestled upon the rocks was an ever-so-lovely perfect little brown egg.

I'm so very excited. I can't bear to eat this first miraculous egg. It just seems wrong. I think, instead, I shall blow out the stuff inside and keep it. For posterity. Is that weird?

If today is Sunday, I must be sad.

Peter's gone. But what a weekend it's been. Peter got here Wednesday night and, as always, time has just flown by. Over the last 4 days:

• We've made raspberry, blackberry and raspberry/blackberry liquor. It needs 4 months to ferment and form properly but early taste tests already indicate it will be delicious! I think I shall need to do tastings every few days to make sure nothing goes wrong! The good news is we seemed to have figured out the "work together" part because this time there were no hard feelings during the liquor making process.
• We witnessed a terrifying accident on I-5 Friday morning. A white utility van in front of us blew a tire, lost control, hit the median, flipped about 6 times while miraculously crossing 3 lanes of traffic and not hitting any other vehicles. Of course we stopped and Peter ran to offer assistance. I stayed on our side of the freeway, well out of the way and attempted calling 911 (I was not the only one and the line was full) Good news - the 17 year old driver, although shook up and bruised, battered and bashed should be just fine.

• We went rock hunting. It was Peter's birthday weekend and it was my gift to him. We went to "The Lucky Strike Mine", located in the middle of nowhere, on the top of a mountain somewhere between Prineville & Mitchell Oregon. It was the most interesting

  

  place with the most interesting people. Kop is the owner of the mine and he LOVES his rocks. We found about 50 pounds of thundereggs. Kop is 92 years old and he had to examine each thunderegg before he would let us have it. With each one he looked at it, ran his hands over it lovingly and then would exclaim at the red vein in it or the kind of gems or what beautiful mysteries we would see when we cut it open and looked inside. Then he would grudgingly let us have it.

• Yesterday we worked on to-do's around here, including researching paint colors for the house, and giving the chickens a proper roof.

• Today was Peter's birthday and he was King for a day. We went grape picking and then grape plucking - and I'm sure we did more than that because it was time for him to go far too soon.

This evening 284 days seems way too far away. I am sad and I am melancholy. Harumph.

A moment of silence please.

Today Sir Larry "The Pig" Whittington passed away.

He was a good pig. He will be missed.

Larry was old for a pig. He was 7. I think that's about 150 in guinea pig years. He lived with us for the last 6. He greeted me every morning and insisted on daily treats of carrots and apples (and occasionally grapes, watermelon, broccoli and cantaloupe).

R.I.P Pig.

I am the older woman.

This was it. This was the weekend I turned a year older. It's not so bad really. Except now, for the next two weeks, Peter is younger than I am. That's unfortunate.

Jill and I headed up to his house Friday night. When we visit Peter, he gives up his house to Jill and I and he sleeps in the "big house." He came into his house early and noisily on Saturday morning (my birthday) singing happy birthday and tossing things about all willy-nilly. He came into my room (technically his) and continued tossing stuff about. It was confetti. How fun! But I must confess I was sleepy enough I just didn't get it. I think I might have even been a little cranky at the rude interruption to my dreams. It didn't take long for me to appreciate the fun of it.

There was also a present waiting for me. A smallish box. I laughed and said "well, I'm guessing it's not a bicycle!" Inside was a pair of trekking poles, to ensure my safety on our treacherous hikes. As I commented on the loveliness of the carbon-fiber, lightweight poles, Peter explained that they were very special poles indeed and I should examine them closely. I rolled my eyes. Men! Men and their tools! What is it with them anyway!??! But I humored him and I carefdully examined the poles from one end to the other. As I approached the pointy end of the second pole something sparkled. It sparkled big! But I couldn't get to the sparkly thing! I didn't want to damage the very special lightweight, carbon-fiber pole but I also wanted to tear it apart - but perseverance and patience paid off and I was finally able to get to it. It was a beautiful, custom-made sapphire and diamond birthstone ring. ooooh. I haven't been able to get a good photo of it or I would show you. Sorry.

Later Saturday we were out in the white shed/workshop gathering items for making chicken coops. What should I stumble upon? A bicycle! Not just one bicycle but TWO. Peter and I now have matching rides. Do you suppose I was experiencing some esp earlier?

This morning I took my new ride out for a spin, while Peter took a shower. It was raining so I didn't go far. As I came back to the house I stopped the bike, put my left foot on the pavement and swung my right foot over the bike. The hem on my boot-cut jeans caught on the bicycle seat. I balanced on one foot, the other foot in the air, stuck. I hopped a bit. I wiggled my leg trying to get it loose. Leg wiggling caused my balance to falter. Bike and I started to list to the left, then to the right. I started hopping some more, with one leg still up in the air. It was like slow motion as the two of us fell to the ground, intertwined like lovers - I tried to throw myself under the bike to protect it, but I also needed to protect my newly aged body. I think the bike survived quite well. I, however, have two bruised and scraped knees, two bashed elbows and my right shoulder is quite stiff and uncomfortable. Sigh..

Man it's rough getting old!

Fair is fair - and kids are kids

I had the best time! All the animals... chickens, ducks, horses (HUGE and tiny), all the cows, and sheep and an adorable little donkey! All the booths! All the fair food! All the weird and freakish people (someone please explain to me the fashion statement of dirty cowboy boots and frilly little skirts.)

Are these not adorable? They were born just hours before this photo. These are Boer goats. For meat. (I shudder to think about it!). Unfortunately the dairy goats aren't going to be there until Wednesday. I might just have to go back. Even without dairy goats, I managed to still be enthralled with what they did have. It was a great time.

I'm looking forward to dragging Peter (kicking and screaming) to the fair next summer in Lynden.

There's a problem with the chicken coop!

I have automatic sprinklers. The girls did not like it very much when they got "rained" on in their yard.. and in their house. There was no where for them to hide. They sat huddled in the corner of their chicken run for the 10 minutes the sprinkler doused them. I felt bad but didn't know how to help them...

Now.. I have to figure out what to do about THAT....

Chicken coop - final answer

Back on June 30 I set myself a list of To-Do's before the year was out. I've been busy trying to get them done.

I've gone to the Street of Dreams. I went to Oneonta Gorge (one of Oregon's true hidden gems!). Yesterday I went to the Hallie Ford Museum (it was closed!) and then I went to the Mission Mill Museum (it was closed too!) Yesterday was weird.. but I'm certainly making a dent in that list. Too bad I have to go back for a do-over on the museums.

Peter was here this weekend. He brought me a dozen red roses on his arrival. He drove down Thursday night. We did the Oneonta Gorge thing on Friday as well as drove around Carson, WA looking for a cabin my family used to go to when I was a child. He did his seminar thing and last night he got to work on the chicken coop. He didn't get it finished. Sigh.

When he left this morning, it was an emotional farewell. We kissed (shh.. don't tell anyone!) We hugged (awww). I waved as he drove down the cul-de-sac and turned the corner. Double sigh.. He called me at noon. I asked if he was in Seattle yet. He said that no, he was just getting to Salem.

I was confused. It turns out when he drove away from my house he went due west instead of north. He spent the morning at the Oregon coast. Men! I would have been cranky, except that he came by the office and took me to lunch. Then he came back to my house (while I toiled away at work) and finished the chicken coop. Finally.. except for the roof.. That's going to be my job!

I suppose this means I should shave my legs..

I am teaching the chickens to eat out of my hands. I want them to be comfortable around me. They are horribly cute and follow me around the back yard. Tonight I sat down with them and fed them some chicken scratch. After they ate their fill, Lucy walked over to my bare legs and started wiping her face on them. I think the stubble felt good.. or.. they were wiping the cobwebs off their beaks. This video was shot a few minutes later. Lucy was very curious about the camera.

I love GoodWill

I so SCORED on knitting needles today. It was a bit of a grab bag. I paid $6.99 for this set. I couldn't tell what was what - and I certainly couldn't tell what was in the needle case. I bought them anyway. It was a gamble. How was I to know that inside the wrapped needle case was every size imaginable in double-pointed needles?? New those would probably cost close to $100.00. Although the colors are a bit mished and mashed - there were only three needles that didn't have mates in the standard needle sets. It was a steal!

I've been rethinking the "funky pink bicycle goal." Mostly because the following conversation took place the other day.

Peter: "Where are you going to ride your funky pink bicycle to?"

Me (trying to be particularly charming and future-wife-like..): "I will make you lunch and pedal down to your office every day and bring you a lunch made with love." (and I didn't even cough or gag saying it!)

Peter: "uh.. remember? I'm going to build a new office, connected to the house. That's not going to be a very long bike ride."

Me: "oh.. umm.. then I don't know where I'll ride my bike to."

So a funky pink bicycle with a cute basket and streamers on the handlebars may not be very useful. I'm not sure where I would go on it. I suppose I could make local goat shop deliveries with it. If the weather was not too hot, not too cold, not too windy. But blocks in his neighborhood are seriously 2 miles long. I couldn't travel more than a couple of blocks...

This bicycle thing may have to go. Perhaps a sturdy mountain bike to navigate the goat pasture and the laneway. That might be more practical.. but not near as cute or fun.

Quick Trip North

Here it is Sunday night already. I'm home. I went north to Peter's this weekend. I got there at 1:00 ish Friday night/Saturday morning and came home today. It was a lovely day. Because, really, I was only there on Saturday, having to leave by noon today.

Peter took pity on me and we did not work on Saturday. Instead we went for a drive up Mt. Baker, past Nooksak falls and way up this bumpy, unimproved mountain road. It rained. We stopped the car with this magnificent view of the mountain that included snow and waterfalls. We had a picnic with fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and smoked salmon. The clouds rolled in and obscured our view, then they rolled out, and then they rolled in...

Then it was home again. Peter has selected the spots for our future house.. and the future goat shop. These locations, of course, could change.

He thinks the house would be perfect way over there.. WAY over there.. behind those marshmallows, over toward that corner. That would be the northeast corner of the north field. It could work.


The goat shop, he thinks, would be good here. This is the north end of the south barn. The grape vines on the left need trimming and maintenance, and the pile of peat on the right will go away and a perfect little parking lot will remain.

I'm getting excited!

George's Wild Ride With Cats

I received the following tale via e-mail this morning. Any resemblance to any one I've spoken of in this blog previously is purely coincidental. I laughed so hard I cried:

(This story is based upon a real, true life, honest event.)
(Names have been changed, and appearances altered to protect individuals' anonymity.)

George was educated. He even had went to college. But George had a problem.

George had got himself a cat. And because George was irresponsible, (his best friend says this is so, even) he had now several cats. The biggest part of the problem was the fact that his cats were two different genders. And because they were two genders, they were multiplying. This inspite of the fact that he thought he had prevented this by re-establishing segregation. The boy cats were put up in the old chicken house, and the girl cats were living in the greenhouse, which was nicely furbished for them with a dirt floor also.

But one of the girl cats busted herself and her mother cat, who was all grew up, out of their accomodations one night. And because there were also neighborhood boy cats around, both of them got kittens. Eight kittens to be exact, altogether.

And then there was the mis-understanding with his mother. When the third girl-cat "Sunshine" was singing like she was auditioning for the evening choir, his mother repeatedly kept puttin' the boycats in with Sunshine in the house where she'd been segregated to. She just doesn't seem to understand so good sometimes, George thinks. And he got to where he decided the segregating wasn't worth it, or working too good so he gave up on it. So Sunshine, she got kittens too!

Now when the first eight kittens was got rid of (nicely kind of, not drowning like, but givin' 'em away like) there was hard feelings raised between the big mama cat "Dog", and the little jail breaker "Fearful". They turned to fighting and hissing and big trouble. The that was solved by Dog starting to live with George again and Fearful staying with Sunshine and her kids.

But Dog loved singing, and also peeing on George's stuff and shoes and things. So George was caught on the horns of a big big dilemma. But he heard he could get it all better by taking all his cats to this place that repairs them for their people.

And because he wasn't hardly getting to sleep with all the carryin' ons. He decided it was time for some of them plastic surgery repair jobs.

So he rounded up pet taxis for them one morning. Little plastic boxes you can put them in and lock 'em up and cart them about the countryside. And he didn't take Sunshine the light blond girl cat 'cause she was still milkin' for her little uns, but he loaded up the little white Moonlight, and the orange Fearful, with the brown boy cats Yawll and Tom Thumb, not together but in their own boxes separate. And he didn't take his Mom who wanted to go along and it turns out she was lucking not to go along anyways.

Because when he started driving his buggy with the cats all in it, Yawll began to howl, howling at the top of his lungs, which is very loud.

Then there began to be sweetish smell pervading the car. George presumed someone had decided that it was time to urinate in their personal, private, plastic pet taxi. This was somewhat uncomfortable making, knowing there was active peeing being done in his personal vehicle. BUT, and what a but, it was but a subtle harbinger of what was to come. There arose a smell, soon after, an evil smell, a stench with a slightly nauseating character, someone had taken it upon themself to defecate. To defecate in his car, in their taxi.

Windows must be open. Open them quickly! But not too far, because too much breeze invigorates the howling. Horrible howling, like cats are being murdered slowly and painfully. Punctuated by contributions from Fearful, slightly lower pitched, less intense, more shrill. And what must the fellow drivers think of this howling shrieking car presumably surmounted by an evil smelling, dark cloud of pestilential fuming? Better to close the windows again, and suffer in solitude.

The village of Hamingbell is reached and the Autobahn is finally available. Windows are opened periodically and closed again. Howling continues unabated. Speed is increased, they speed onward. Curious, the driver thinks, no one has summoned the authorities to investigate this torturous travelling show.

Fearful, finds it best to travel on her back, at times flailing wildly with her claws outstretched through her front door. George is beginning to lose his grip on sanity.The sound. The stench. The memories of clawings and bitings past, injuries inflicted by the noisy pair. Ah, the Gaskit river. Maybe to submerse the taxi of Yawll in the Chappaquidic. To end the noise. Who should this cat be forced upon. Yes he looks pretty, he acts warmly, but his malfeasances, they are hard to bear.

But refuge is getting nearer, so George regains his grip with sanity. They pass dR dribratS, they pass Noah and the ark they seek. They take the prescribed sideroad and park on the lot. George leaves the windows open and enters the clinic. The nice lady with the odd face asks if he has come to pick up his cat. He says, "No, I have some cats that need repairs." The assistant, states, "We don't take surrenders." George considers telling them, "Well then I shall go out on the parking lot and shoot them." but thinks better of it. (He was thinking that would make them accept them after all.)

Rather he informs them that they are his cats which he has brought for repairs. The Oddish Face says "You need an appointment." George asks if he may drop them off right now as they are in the car. Assistant "We don't House." George "How do I get an appointment?" O. F. "You need to go to the main entrance."

George leaves with a nice thank-you and walks around to the main entrance. The receptionist sits behind the desk, speaking on the phone. George waits at the desk, bright sunlight shining directly in his eyes, he soon sees nothing and feels as though he is at an interrogation. He intelligently moves off to the side where he can again see. He now perceives that this woman has an even odder face tha receptionist number one. He ponders the relationship between facial features and occupations, but only briefly, for the lady is addressing him now. He states his mission, says he needs an appointment.

"She" riffles through the scheduling book saying "I'm putting females in male slots" which seems somehow wrong to him. "August 8" she says. George thinks about how that is eleven days of bad sleep ahead. He questions whether there might not be a Monday instead. She replies that she hasn't any mondays for months, (How do they schedule these things so far ahead George muses). He sets his cats up for August 8th repairs. And now he must return home. In the stinking, howling, four pet-taxi ferry that used to be his own private favorite ride.

So off they go. He wonders at the volume of Yawll that has not decreased. He notes the calm of Dog and Oreo, whom he hasn't mentioned yet in person, for his comportment was remarkable only for it's unremarkability. And the howling continues all the while.

George begins to get thoughts of violence. He thinks that he will stop and get a very big stick and beat Yawll very, very dead. And flat, very flat into the ground. But the fancy is passing, and the momentary insanity again is passed.

The trip continues and George has time to think with himself. George's introspection is fruitful. He decides he is not yet a too-old dog, for he is still able to learn. He has learned much today. He has learned valuable lessons. They are as follows:

1. "Little" cat problems are bigger than you think.
2. He is still able to learn. This is good.
3. He was naive to think he could just show up. This is not so good.
4. Some cats travel well. This is good. And nice.
5. Some cats don't travel well. This is not so good.
6. He will phone first. If he ever has to do this sort of thing again. This is good.
7. Having to do this sort of thing again is not so good.
8. Cat stink doesn't hang in the car long when the cats are out of it. This is good. (Out of it, the car, not consciousness)
9. George will definitely get rid of Yawll and Fearful. This is good.
10.George can survive very uncomfortable circumstances. This is good.

So George is on the road to happiness and peace at home. There appears hope on the horizon.

Shirley's got a brand new bag.

Let me tell you about my friend Shirley.

A year or so ago she discovered that I had a quilt top made by my grandmother and her twin sister somewhere around 1940. She took it to her quilting group (the Galloping Horse Quilters of Portland Oregon) who turned it into an incredible masterpiece, handstitching everything to keep with the era and technique's it was started with. She would not take payment for this.

Last fall when my son crashed his car on I-5 and I had to frantically dash to Redding, CA Shirley stayed at my house and took care of my animals. She stayed without hesitation, without a change of clothes, without a toothbrush. She lives 50 miles north of me and didn't even go back home for clean underwear (okay.. that might be too much information.. there ARE Targets around here.. maybe she bought some). I thanked her heartily.. but let's face it, that's a little lame.

A few months ago she stayed again. With more notice (and a change of clothes), but she stayed for part of a week so that I could go north to Peters and "get away" from it all before I started my new job.

I have made her a felted bag. She chose the colors.. they are heather and pink. I chose the pattern. It's taken far too long to make this bag but it was made with love and gratitude.

Thank you Shirley.

Knitted but not felted:

Felting #1:

Final Felting #2:

Peace in the house!

Look! Everyone is getting along. Dog, chickens, kitten, cat. How cool is that?

Aren't they all cute together? Awwwwww..

This is good news. Peter got 24 more chickens at his house this week. Thatza lotta fowl! We decided that "My Little Goat Shop" will be selling eggs too. Either that or we'll be eating omelets, souffles, quiches and such every meal for the rest of our lives. I would really like the luxury of eating sushi or steak every now and then so it seems certain will be selling eggs. Remember to shop "My Little Goat Shop" first.

345 days

I've been SOOO busy!

My mom turned 85 yesterday. My brother and sister-in-law are in town. Peter was here over the weekend. My AC & UA came up. It's been crazy I tell you!

My mom is certainly better than she was 6 months ago - but this week has been exhausting for her and I see some signs of back sliding. She told me yesterday that she "wouldn't be here" next fall. She wouldn't elaborate though.

I've been knitting. Only I don't have any pictures yet. I've given up on the shrugigan - temporarily - and I'm working on a bag for my friend Shirley. I'm almost done with it.

My chickens are getting bigger. They look full grown (I think) and should start laying eggs in about 6 weeks. Jerry and I remodeled their coop tonight. I think they are going to be much happier. I know I will be with the new door configuration. It will be so much more convenient.

I got my first goat. I know! How exciting is that?! She's a beautiful little thing. Brown, with little horns. Unfortunately.. She will not be a goat I can milk. The problem is she is about 2" tall and made from resin. She sits on my desk at work helping to keep me motivated for the finish line.

How was your Holiday?

Lots of goings on around here. Where do I start? Hmm..

Goat shop dreams are progressing. Peter has an idea of where we're going to put the shop. I like that he seems to embrace the idea of this being real.

He came down to surprise me on the 1st (it was our kinda anniversary after all). He rode the train. Surprise! It was delightful and quite unexpected. I still had to work Friday though (bummer!) but after work we (Peter, Jill and I) drove up to Peter's house for the weekend.

Jill spent part of Saturday packing up Edna's things. She had lots and lots of chatzke's. Hummel figurines, porcelain eggs, dolls, knick-knacks & goo-gaws. We're helping Peter by cataloging and preparing them for sale.

While Jill was packing I got tractor lessons. I got to drive a tractor! It was fun - for the first 10 minutes - then I got a little dizzy going around in circles plowing the field. I started to make patterns in the ground. I tried to write my name. I zigged. I zagged. It was not a very effecient effort and after about 3 hours it was finally all plowed. I am really going to have to get more serious with the plowing if I'm going to be a good farmer and goat herder. I will need to learn to take things more seriously! or not. Hee hee.

Yesterday we went "adventuring." We went to Concrete, WA and prowled around the abandoned concrete plant. We had a picnic on an old conveyor platform overlooking Lake Shannon. Then we went to the big 4 ice caves - which were actually formed. This time last year there was still just a big ice field and not even a hint of caves.

After we got home last night we let the ducks and goose out to eat some slugs. In the mornings when they get out they run much faster, but they still make me laugh!

One year! or.. 12 months! or.. 52 weeks! or 365 days..

Peter came back into my life 3 years ago tomorrow. July 1, 2007.

The final day at my new job is one year from today. June 30, 2011

My target move date is one year from tomorrow. July 1, 2011

It's so close I can almost touch it. I have so much to do in the next 365 days. My Two Year Plan of Escape (TYPoE) is now a One Year Plan of Escape - OYPoE. Not nearly as cool of an acronym.

Of course I have Goat Shop Dream things to do and prepare for - but first I have things that need finishing right here. Tomorrow begins my "last chance" phase.

The Oregon State Fair is held just down the street. This will be my last year to go!
Portland Street of Dreams. My last chance!
NewPort Seafood and Wine festival. Can't miss that!
I haven's seen Bush Mansion yet (on the inside).
I want to see the Mission Mill Museum!
I've been meaning to get to the Hallie Ford Gallery.
Can't forget the Melting Pot in Portland.
Champoeg State Park and Museum.

..and a Gazillion other things. I know I'll be back here someday, at least to visit - but these things are here now and I need to do them. Why is it we never play tourist in our home town? We should.

This next year should prove very interesting and exciting. Especially since the last one was such a roller coaster ride!

Oh and Peter? I love you! Thanks for a wonderful 3 years! It couldn't have been any more better.

Chickens smell..

...and not because they have noses. After three weeks of having Carmen, Lucy and Carmen sleeping and living (and pooping!) in my garage.. it began to smell quite.. uh.. icky. Yeah.. icky is a good way to describe it.

Peter was here over the weekend but he had to learn about brains all weekend so he wasn't able to help me finish the coop and get my chickens outside. He did help me see his vision. As beautiful as it was - I could not quite implement his "exact" vision. I understood it.. but still.. so temporary coop #2 is now in place. At least they are OUTSIDE. And quite happy and safe - I believe. And Sparky - who liked them just fine when they were in the garage seems quite perplexed that they are now outside.

Last night Jill (and two of her friends) and me (and one of my

friends) went to see the Lion King in Portland. It was fabulous. It was in honor of Jill's 17th birthday. What a fun way to celebrate!

I highly recommend this play. Go. Have fun. Don't let the elephant step on your toes!

Work, work work work...

And Edna. When last I was in Lynden Peter and I camped out at Edna's house so that she would not be alone at night. Peter continued to camp there after I left. Edna passed away this morning about 6:30. Peter was able to be with her. I'm glad. I liked her. She could be cantankerous and grumpy, but she was a good person and I bet she was full of mischief and a ton of fun in her younger days. Although I did not know her well I shall miss her.

And knitting! I'm knitting a "shrugigan." Not felted. Not difficult. Just a lot of knitting. I'll show you when it's done.

And work. I'm winding up my second week at the new job. Up until today it's been a lot of "hurry up and wait" and planning, reading and preparing for the unknown possibilities. Just trying to keep busy while the foundation get's built. Not my favorite thing to do.

TODAY was different. I had a 9:00 am meeting with my pilot project owner. She was full of ideas. I left her desk with a long list of things to prepare, on my way out I stopped by my software admin's desk who informed me the software was up and we were ready to start testing! How exciting.. so much to do so quickly! I got back to my desk and there were 5 e-mails from my boss! I hadn't heard from him in a week and now this?? Where has he been for the last week and why did he choose now to surface??

I'm now Project Manager on two other projects - one of which I've never even heard of before.

I had all these meetings to arrange and groups of people to gather. I am not up to speed on groups and gathering places. I went in search of assistsance. Guess what?? It turns out I have someone to tend my calendar and make my appointments. How cool is that?

Today went by so very quickly. I know I was at the office for 9 hours.. but it seemed like 1/2 that. I like it. The next year should go very swiftly and then I can put all this "work" behind me and live the life of luxury I deserve tending goats, plowing field, weeding gardens, building a house, planting hosta's, making wine & mead & beer, knitting, felting, tilling, digging, raking.. Man! I can't wait to quit work! :)

Job Report

First.. knitting report. I believed knitting was not a summer activity. It's true. But what it's REALLY not is a new kitten activity. now.. job report..

Despite my best intentions. Despite my dire predictions - I am really liking my new job! It's like I am a professional, I was hired to do a job and I'm being allowed to do it!! How weird is that? Earlier this week I made a recommendation on something and you won't believe what happened.. they DID it! There are just a couple things I don't really care for. My cube is in the basement, behind the elevators, around the corner, w-a-a-y back in the back. There are three other people that work back there. They are application developers - by nature, quite, introspective sorts who seem to have some vocal issues or permanent laryngitis. They seem like fine people. They rarely speak. I ate a cracker with lunch the other day - the sound my crunching made was deafening. I find myself opening drawers very slowly and deliberately - don't want to make extra noise. It's weird.

It's quite depressing for this very social butterfly. :(

As you can see from the picture above my cube in the basement is very gray and dreary.. but here is the funny part, below is a photo of the bathroom on my floor. It's loud. It's orange. It cracks me up. It seems the last time it was remodeled was the 70's.

And yes, I'm aware tha this is the THIRD time I've shown a bathroom photo in this blog. I'm sure I have a problem.

I have chickens. Carmen, Carmen and Lucy spent some time outside. They seemed to like it. A lot. Lucy is the blonde one on the left.

Coop de temporary villa

My chickens have a new, temporary, home.

As I suspected - I didn't quite understand Peter's vision when assembling the coop. Over the phone he explained that I needed to replace the wire with plywood, cut a hole in the front, build a door, hinge the lid, cut a hole in the side, insert the nest box, attach a hinged lid, put in the box support, put in a heater and air conditioning, don't forget the plumbing and a roof. Add a jacuzzi, french doors, refrigerator, plant hanger, square dance... I was lost. I have created this makeshift coop from my original attempt. For the next two weeks I will move Carmen, Carmen and Lucy to the yard in a make shift pen under supervision. When Peter arrives HE can finish this vision. I'm lost.

But.. don't they look so big now?

On another note - I start my new job tomorrow. It's so scary.. starting something new. I'm excited and a nervous wreck at the same time. I'm worried about what I'll be doing. What the expectations are. Where I'll eat. Where the bathroom is. Who I'll be working with. What I'll wear - I think I may get my ID photo taken tomorrow... A picture that will haunt me for the next year if it's less than flattering. With any luck they will use my previous id picture - it was a good one and I was 50 pounds lighter and looking "HOT!" As if I've ever looked hot. hahahahahaha...

I'm home.

Again. I'm home. I think it get's harder to leave there every single time.

Of course, the fact that I left there with a car FULL of stuff didn't make it any easier. It was packed to the gills. I really thought I was supposed to be moving my stuff that direction - but no, my car was laden with goodies. I had three chickens in the back seat, chicken feeders, chicken feed, all the parts of a chicken coop, two rolls of wire, a five week old kitten, a bag of yarn (Lynda's was continuing with their going-out-of-the-yarn-business sale), my luggage, cat litter, cat litter box, cat food, cat food bowl, water bowl, extra water for the creatures...

The kitten, Joie, wasn't very inclined to stay in her designated spot and Honda doesn't make seat belts that tiny. She yowled at the top of her little kitten lungs for 45 minutes. She tried to climb through the holes of her laundry basket/car seat. Then, she slept. Then she yelled. Then she slept. and so forth - for 7 hours! Apparently it's exhausting to be a high-stress kitten.

The chicks travelled pretty well. They were nicely situated in a large rubbermaid container. The car was warm, they had food and water and seemed quite accepting of the entire adventure.

I spent today trying to assemble the chicks new domicile. Peter & I had cut all the pieces out and labeled each one appropriately. We went over how to put it all together and I was sent on my way. It's such a challenge to put together someone else's vision. I'm not done yet and I'm pretty sure I didn't quite get HIS vision - but Carmen, Carmen and Lucy should be happy in their new little house. I'll post pics as soon as it's done.

Sparky should be embarrassed...

My dog is afraid of the new kitten.

I'm so ashamed for her.

Cluck cluck cluck

I'm north! Yay!

My last day at my "old" job was Thursday. Friday I headed north. I get to be here for an entire week! I've left kids to take care of kids. They should be fine.

Peter and I are helping out a friend of his who is unwell. We're sleeping at her house (so she is not alone at night) using sleeping bags. It's just like camping he says. Yes. EXACTLY like camping. I'm just sorry that the campfire in the middle of the living room caused such a problem. Kidding!

Yesterday, Peter's neighbor's dog came over and killed about 10 of his ducklings - and one of his geese. The term "bad dog" does not begin to cover the heinousness of this dog's crimes. Very very sad.

Today we went looking for new ducks - because 3 ducks aren't enough to do a duck's job. We found some. Not only that, but we found chickens. All kinds.

So guess what I did? Yes! I got THREE Rhode Island Red chicks. Aren't they cute??

My friend Lori suggested I name them all "Carmen." I think I shall. I like it. And she's right, I won't be able to tell them apart as they get bigger. They can all be Carmen.

We're going to build a chicken coop that I can take home. I should be eating Carmen eggs in early September. Hmm: omelets, soufle's, eggs benedict, bacon and eggs, scrambled eggs, eggs over easy, sunny side up!

Man.. I hope the neighbors don't call the police.

about 400 days until I move north..

Just thought I'd throw that out there! Woo hoo!

I signed on the dotted line today for the new job. I start June 7th (assuming I pass the criminal background check and that incident in the early 80's never comes to light...). I'm out next week. I don't work Friday's so day-after-tomorrow is my last day with my current job. YIKES! I've been at that job for 16 years. I've worked on the third floor of that building for 16 years. I'll probably go there out of habit!

I was told my new office (cubical really..) is on the "garden level." Doesn't that sound lovely? I was also told that the nickname for this location is... "The dungeon." No windows, low ceilings. Simply charming.

Other news.. The bag I was making for my Aunt is offically done. It's also offically the bag that I hate the most. It simply did not produce a result I'm happy with. I think I shall "shelve" it and start over with something new for her. I'm fairly certain I know what would float her boat so I shall make excuses.. tell her the dog ate it or something and eventually give her something I'm much more pleased with. She'll never know.

oh.. HI Aunt Carmela! Please pretend you didn't read this!

Other, other news: No chickies. There are no chickies for us. I'm very sad. Our last egg produced nothing but gooey egg yolk. ewwww. I'm thinking of skipping the egg stage and just getting little chicks.. but it might be too late for this year.. maybe.

I have a pea! A bigger pea than I had before!

Oh my gosh! I still can't believe it's true. But it is. I've sent my applications & resume's out everywhere - almost. I had two interviews set up for next week.

Then yesterday I got a call, from out of the blue, from an old friend who has moved up in the political arena. He's now top dawg at a big swanky agency (one of the only ones I had NOT applied at). The conversation went something like this:

TD (top dawg): I hear you got laid off.
Me: it's true. I did.
TD: I have this project...
Me: tell me more
TD: blah blah blah blah, are you interested?
Me: Uh.. duh. yes! Even if I weren't laid off, I would quit my job to come and do this!
TD: well then.. be here Friday at 2:00 so we can discuss it more.

So I went. The project was not quite what he described. I said.. "I don't think you'd regret hiring me, but I don't know how to do that!"

Their response was, "Well, we like you and, Top Dawg said you could do it and we believe in you. We will hire you anyway." Then they told me the bad news.. it's limited duration and only guaranteed for a year.

uh.. HELLO!! Let's not forget the TYPoE! This is a match made in heaven.

Somebody pinch me.