It has been a while since I have written. I have actually started a post or two but quickly bored of going into detail about my so-called busy life. I have been busy. I have been very busy in fact, but I just don't feel like going into the details of it all. Guess that means it's not very exciting busy, huh?
To hit the highlights: I am the proud owner of a Cuisinart Two-To-Go coffee maker, courtesy of the flavorchase contest by Marlboro. They couldn't have given a more fitting gift to someone because I am a coffee addict.
And we decided that we were going to try our hand at vermicomposting. Besides the fact that I think of elfie every single time the word "worm" is mentioned (because of that dude in her office and his worm ramblings), I thought I would try it just for the hell of it. So we drilled holes in the storage bin and decided where we would keep the crawly things, headed to wormwoman.com and ordered our $24 pound (yes, $24 for a pound of red worms). Da Man and I were all psyched that in six months *laugh* we would be able to start fertilizing our plants with compost courtesy of the worms. But, as luck around here usually has it, the worm woman is suffering from a shortage of worms at this time and wants to know if we want to be put on the worm waiting list. I suppose worm woman has been bombarded with requests since the mere mention of her name in a widely read family magazine. I think we are going to be put on the worm waiting list.
But see, this is the thing: You line the bin with dampened newspaper and then dispose of your food garbage, such as left over vegetables and the such, coffee grounds. tea bags, etc., and the worms process the garbage and leave you with a wonderful fertilizer. It's part of my effort to be a bit more green. We'll see. I'll keep you posted on the vermicomposting.
And for those of you who may think that I don't think of you from time to time, you're wrong. I thought of nitti the other day when I was reading the inside of a cover of a book about a woman who knits. My imaginary friend is also in my thoughts every single time I step out the door because of her bit about guerilla gardening....
We feed the birds every winter, but this winter we made an extra special effort to do so because Grace had great fun with it. The bird feeder was placed on an old shepherd's hook in the middle of the backyard. I hadn't really thought about the location of the bird feeder; we placed it there for convenience sake. Imagine my surprise when I was strolling toward my soon-to-be flower bed this spring and saw what I thought were sunflowers jutting out of the ground. At first I was puzzled by this because I hadn't planted sunflowers. And then I realized that the birds had been fed seed with sunflower in them this winter. And now I have a patch of over 20 sunflower plants blooming--right smack dab in the middle of the backyard. They are absolutely beautiful, and I refuse to get rid of them because they were put there by an act of nature. The girls enjoy them but fuss because they are in the way of their swingset.
I have been meaning to write about those sunflowers for a while now, and every day I think that I know it would have been absolutely incredible if my imaginary friend would have done her guerilla gardening with sunflowers in the vicinity of her neighbor's land. *smile*
As for other happenings in my world, things are calming down. I am not sure what has happened, but there is a sense of peace in my life these days, a peace that had not been there in a while. Things are finally beginning to settle into a routine that is working for everyone involved. Sure, some of it could have been from my angered proclamation one night not so long ago that I had never been unhappier in my life as I was right at that moment. But I don't care what has brought about the change; it's simply enough that it was brought about.
Da Man is working again. I had made a comment one night that he needed to head to a local pizza shop and fling dough for a living. I rambled on about how doing the same thing over and over was meditative and how unstressful a job as a pizza baker would be for him. That Sunday there was a want ad in the paper for that exact pizza shop. And he digs it. Really. There is something different about him now.
He comes home from work relaxed and joking around. His once constant complaints of pain and suffering have almost completely diminished. Knocking the hell out of pizza dough is therapeutic, he says, and I think he must be right.
Other than running from this place to the other, things have been pretty calm. And I like it like that. The thing I don't really dig is that the weather has suddenly changed from rain soaked to hellish temperatures, causing that yucky pool of sweat to form everywhere on my body. I believe a small man could swim in the pool of sweat under my tits at times. I loathe heat. I sweat like a man, which is very attractive. *roll eyes*
Grace started swim class this morning. I sat in the grass while she and Da Man cruised around the pool. It's nice to be able to pass some of the responsibility off to him, and Grace does much better with him in the water than with me. I think it's because she knows that no matter what happens in there, he will be able to save her. I miss getting in with her, and I imagine that before the week is over I will make it into the pool with her at least once. But they need something special, just the two of them, and I'm content to sit with Mak and take pictures from the sidelines.
And speaking of Mak, that child is going to be the death of me. She never stops running around (literally). The only time she is still is when she's asleep. She's daring and a thinker. I told the eye doc the other day that I believe The Universe brought Mak to me to remind me how much I had taken Grace being an awesome toddler for granted. They're polar opposites, my two girls. Where Grace is mild tempered and relatively calm, Mak is wide open and screams, cries, throws things, and pinches when she wants something and doesn't get it.
The other day at an over-the-top birthday party for one of Grace's friends, I was talking about Grace and her awesome go at the screening for school. "Don't expect Mak to be the same way," my friend told me. Funny, I thought, because I never expected Grace to be that way.
Da Man said the other night that Grace would come home from high school and tell us that Mak had been taking her clothes off for food. Ha. "And I tried it and only got a hamburger, dad," he said in an assumed Grace as a teenager voice. They're so different. I honestly have to work at being a mom with Mak. Grace was always fine with herself, but Mak freaks when I'm not around. She won't take naps unless she knows I'm there. She won't stop yelling and crying if I'm not with her. It's a totally different ballgame with this one. And it makes me okay with the fact that I had my tubes tied after the second rodeo. *snort*
Well, mom just called and told me to meet her outside to help unload the van, so I suppose my peace and quiet time is gone for now. Oh well, at least I had a few minutes.