Starting My Garden ... Soon, I Hope

The time is again flying by.  Having the in-laws here has kept me more than busy.  It's been a good but ... er, interesting ... vacation.  See, they like to keep busy.  If she's cleaning my house, then he's cleaning my garage.  If she's making treats, then he's making projects.  And then I have to keep up so I won't be "lazy".  And now I'm into such a routine with it over the last few weeks that when they fly out tomorrow I won't know what to do with myself.

I'm already at that stage also because it's snowed almost a foot today.  With more snow forecasted throughout the coming week.  Mother Nature is cruel.  In unrelated news, I plan to take up drinking.

So I have something I'm super-duper excited about... so excited I don't care how dorky "super-duper" sounds.  If you had what I have you wouldn't care either.  It's this: a cold-frame.  Now you see what I mean?  Of course you do!

I'm way too eager to start my garden.  Even though it's still early in the spring, and I live on Santa's doorstep in the Great White North and the Abominable Snowman keeps cr@pping on my yard, I'm still trying to rein myself in.  I've got seeds planted inside and plans for the outside.

Best thing yet, I've got some new raised beds built, thanks to my father-in-law.  They aren't filled with soil yet, but that will come soon enough.  I'm so inspired by them that I may just build another one to add to my "collection", and in that case will have to shift them around a bit for more room, which is easier when they're empty.

My cold-frame:



Note in the background my extra-deep new planting bed?  Super-duper!!!  Yes, that merited extra exclamation marks – I can grow potatoes and carrots and stuff like that in there.  The shorter bed with the cold-frame is still 12 inches deep, so it's deep enough for everything else, including onions and radishes.

Modeling the usage and functionality of my cold-frame, the builder and his grandson:



Why the cold-frame on only half the planting bed?  Because the bed is 8 feet long, and it's a bit awkward to have a long one.  I won't be starting too many plants outside before it's very warm, and I can always build another beside it if I get carried away and plant lots of spinach and lettuce and such before we're done with overnight frosts.

For the warmer part of the year, such as when the danger of frost or snow is over – yes, we have days like that in Alberta – it is removable and can easily be stored out of the way during warm season.  Simply slip the pin out of the hinges in the back, and it comes right off.

This cold-frame cover will extend my growing season so that I can plant earlier and harvest later.  Which, having gone organic and wanting to grow my own food, is going to be fantastic and a real addition to my healthier lifestyle.

Coming Soon To A Computer Near You...

Good stuff is happening soon! Can't wait to unveil it. Please stay tuned...

So, I Met This Guy...

He's shooting my brother's wedding.

I can't wait.

Giddy

Giddy. That's me.

This is why.

Photo courtesy of The Digital Picture. Click here to read all about this amazing piece of technology.

Yep, that's right. It's mine. All mine. It's okay if you're jealous. I'll understand.

And now, look what it can do...

... in low light.

1/30 f/2.0 135 mm ISO 100

Oh, the clarity!

1/13 f/2.0 135 mm ISO 100

Oh, the saturation!

1/100 f/2.0 135 mm ISO 100

Oh, the definition!

1/640 f/2.0 135 mm ISO 100

Oh, the smiles!

1/50 f/2.0 135 mm ISO 100

After all, isn't this what it's all about?

(In the spirit of improving my skills at photography, all shots are SOOC -- straight out of camera -- except for the last one... which needed some levels adjustment because it's sometimes sunny, sometimes darkly overcast and the weather just won't cooperate.)

Birthday Madness, Part 1

Early this morning, a small quivering shivering warm body crawled into my bed for "snuggles".

"I don't know what to do," he said. "I'm just so ... happy... that I'm five."

I looked at the clock. "Yep, birthday boy. You turned five half an hour ago."

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5:29 am, a magical morning following a very clinical night full of doctors and nurses and various other medical staff, employees, various trainees and paramedics (I'm sure the custodians were there, too) all crowding in the "birthing room" of the hospital, excited and chattering and milling about... there because it was a "textbook birth". They were so thrilled, they had all the trainees and at least one administrative executive present to witness the momentous event. I was thrilled I had half the population of the city in front row seats to my cooch.

But then he was born, all 7 pounds, 8 ounces of squalling red flesh, and the rest was put aside. Top-notch apgar and reflexes up the ying-yang. He was a bundle of happiness and nummy little baby parts, but mostly of what-do-I-do-now-ness.

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Today, he's still exceeding expectations.

The doorbell rings... we run to answer with smiles on our faces. The first of our guests arrive. And they arrived in amazing syncronicity. Punctuality is very much the rage here. Bam bam bam! They came at once: eleven excited eager little bodies ready for birthday fun. Canny, some of the parents declined to stay and partake of the ensuing mayhem.

We planned for lunch, cake, gifts and games. The havoc and chaos quickly commenced, and I can assure you, I have little understanding of how the day unfolded.

Today was not a day of reflection and basking languidly in the moment of birthdayness joy, as last year was. The moments for holding and squeezing and giving birthday snuggles would have to come later, after the din died down and peace once again reigned. No, there was little reflection and absolutely no basking. The cats were sent forthwith to the basement to escape the raucous horror that would otherwise await them. Doors were closed off, barring particular portions of the house from the celebratory fervor -- with the one exception of a baby and mom needing some quiet feeding time. That's allowed.

They arrived at noon with gleams of childish joy in their faces. They moved in constant splashes of color and noise. They smiled big smiles and cackled constantly. They TOLD ON EACH OTHER.

"We're staying til supper!" One little guest excitedly proclaimed as she bounced erratically through the living room.

Racing from room to room, upstairs downstairs upstairs downstairs upstairsdownstairs they yelled and screamed and laughed. In the kitchen, preparing lunch and the other festivities, the reality hit me of what I had gotten myself into. I was hosting a 5-year-old's coed birthday party.

I might have whimpered "Hold me." No one did.

As with the birthing of this precious boy, his fifth birthday passed in a blur of faces and sounds that blended screaming laughing yelling singing. Cake - amazing dinosaur vignette cake - featured a key moment in this celebration. And there were several other moments from today that, upon quiet time to recover and relax, I just might remember.

I expected a celebration. I expected joy and laughter for him. He just might have gotten it.

Right now I have only snapshot memories of today. And that might be a good thing.

His Heart

Someone finished up speech therapy today.

Someone wrote a "note" to his speech therapist and brought cut out hearts his daddy made. (Yes, let's all just say "Awww!" and get it over with.)

The sounds /k/, /g/, and /s/ are now being heard every single day, all day long. It's a great thing for him to be talking and knowing that everyone can understand him, not just me.... but now it doesn't stop. Not at all during the day. Actually, now, it's all day long, and yes, he even talks in his sleep. So it doesn't stop at night.

Yes, I've learned my lesson: be careful what you wish for.

Oh, yes, I've learned.

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Ayanna

She was spotted by a little boy on a random completely accidental unprecedented visit. Their eyes met. It was love at first sight. Kismet.

Meant to be.

Totally in love.

I could go on and on and gush some more about how they were MFEO. Good thing I'm not a gusher. And anyways, who wants to hear that coming from your mom? (Good thing he can't read yet. Or competently use the computer to find this.)

Instead of gushing, here's a photo of the newest friend of the boy's, the newest family member. And Evan's newest reason for being.

The beauty of gray and yellow. This is the hottest new thing in fashion. Or so I've heard. At any rate, she wears it well.

But more about Ayanna...

She plays like a puppy. She chases things. Anything. A crumpled up piece of paper, a cat toy, a ball, a toy car, a toy anything. Even a soccer ball.

She plays soccer. With Evan. And then when she gets bored with it, she lays down on the sidelines and watches.

Noises interest her. She doesn't run from legos skittering across the tile floor or even the big tin car hurtling into the cupboard. Rather, she runs to add her mayhem to the madness.

She doesn't stop moving for long. (See the motion blur here? This is a very typical photo of Ayanna.) She's a girl on the go. She has places to smell and a new house to explore. Plus, a boy that needs playing with. Those are her own words.

(He's in seventh heaven.)

She's a beauty with attitude. And obviously enjoys the finer things in life, like elegant silk scarves and our company.

However...

There is someone here who is not too happy about our newest girl. She is singing her displeasure with great enthusiasm and volume. Mostly from her hiding spot in the darkest part of my closet. But frankly, anywhere will do.

You should hear what she has to say about this situation.

It's not pretty. But I think Ayanna is impressed a bit by her vocabulary. Or that Chloe can curse in seven cat languages. Frankly I'm a little impressed too.

I know she'll come around eventually... in five or six months. And then they'll at least tolerate each other, if not become grooming buddies or even the best of friends.

Who can resist this face?

At one time abandoned. Homeless. Unwanted.

She spent nearly a year at the SPCA. Think about that for a moment. Almost a whole year, unwanted, unloved.

But now... wanted. Loved. Home at last.

Help those animals today. If you can't adopt a pet, click here to donate for the care of animals in need of rescue or waiting for adoption.

Teaser

I've got a busy day today, and this is all I have time for:



Come back tomorrow for a product review.

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More weekly winners:

Comparisons

Life here... well, it's different... and yet the same.

Let me break it down for you: 5019 kilometres distance (3119 miles); 5 provinces between; maritimes to prairie; rural to town.

Big changes.

And yet, not so big. Some things are remarkably similar. We still speak English, for instance. Granted, it's a more understandable version here out west (for me, anyways, as I was west coast raised), but the same nonetheless. We have (different versions of) the same stores. We use the same multi-colored monopoly money out here.

And some differences. There's more country music stations. There's fewer bugs out here. (Except for the spider that crawled under my hair last night as I slept and bit me on the back of the neck. Web-slinging skills aside, it woke me up in the middle of the night and itched like a mother-f.... um, anyways.... back to what I was saying.) There's more sky.

No, seriously; I can see more sky. It's a big thing for me. Ever heard of "big sky Montana"? Well, we're just north of that. Same thing. Lots of rolling hills and prairie land, which equals more room to see the horizon and the sky.

Room to breathe.

And here are more comparisons of our life in pictures... because it's just more fun that way.

Dinos still lay where they fall, exhausted after rough-roaring-rollicking playtime with the dino wrangler. Now, however, they have a nice cushiony bed to rest on. Yes, I'll come out of the closet and admit it: I love carpeting. I don't care about dust mites or allergens. That's why God made Mr. Dyson who invented the only vacuum worth using.

Evan still dreams of dinos, just in a different bed. Sure, he might be batman-pajama-wearing and sleep in a spiderman bed, but he still dreams and thinks of dinos.

We still have flames to warm ourselves by, but this kind won't take an hour, half a gallon of lighter fluid, and a sailor's vocabulary to start (depending on which way the wind is blowing, of course). All I need is a switch. Ahhhhh..... We still have little footprints to admire of course, and our ritual candle-lighting at night. You know, the important things.

Here's where (I think) the differences become glaringly apparent. Take a good long look at the next picture and compare it to the following one taken last summer. Can YOU spot the differences?

Did you see the subtle differences? No? Okay, I'll tell you. There are houses and stores and people and a real neighbourhood in the first. Just an empty field in the second (the deer had just left).

Did we come down in life, moving from an idyllic rural existence to a cliched suburban haven? If so, then I think down is the new up. Because I love having people around me. I love being in a community. I love the noises and sights of a place where lots of people live. I love the friendliness of this little community. I love how even though there are tons of people living around me (I'm guessing, I haven't actually weighed them), I feel that there is more space to breathe and relax. I don't feel suffocated anymore.

There will be rough times ahead, when the reality of the move has actually hit me and I'm dealing with adjusting and Evan missing all his friends (and mine too).

But for now, I'm just looking to the day.

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More weekly winners:

Getting Fresh - Captured

Hi. I'm back. We're here... in our new house.

I'm exhausted.

I'm worn out from traveling catastrophes (a story for another day) and just running around, setting up and settling in. Not that we're finished.

It's fun and exciting. A fresh start. A fresh new house, fresh new furniture, fresh new playgrounds, fresh new friends.

And a fresh new bath experience. We found out what happens when Evan pours in even a moderate amount of bathwash into a jetted tub and WackyMummy cranks the jets. Silly silly boy and WackyMummy.

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More fresh ideas await at I Should Be Folding Laundry.

My Apologies

Crazy has taken over life at Wacky House. In a matter of 36 hours the following has occurred:

* First ever viewing of our house

* Ridiculously offensive low-ball offer to buy from first-ever viewer

* Snooty counter-offer to send the potential buyer running

* Acceptance of counter with conditions

* Modification of conditions

And finally:

* Looking for a new house to buy

I love reading comments on this blog, and even more than that I love visiting other blogs and commenting too. These activities have come to a screeching halt. And I've been most sad and stressed about that. One of the things I've tried to do is respond to each comment I can, and I feel guilty (yes, guilty) that I've had to neglect that lately. See, it's either neglect that or my child, and Evan whines louder for food and attention than the internet, so.... you see where I'm going with this.

Responding to the comments is something I'm going to try to get caught up on very very soon. I promise. That is, those comments that link to an email address. Hint hint.

In the meantime, I've got a dozen houses to look at, organizing and packing to start, and a rabid animal child to care for. Sleep is optional, right?

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P.S. .... And my new camera? The one that has become my new love-of-my-life? (Sorry, MacBook... I still love you... kind of.) Gathering dust. Are you kidding me? I wish I had time to play with it and learn about it. *That* is what I'm most sad about.

Blogoversary

Whoops!  I totally missed it!

Yesterday was my 1 year blogoversary... I actually started blogging July 9, 2008.  

I've had a blast writing my stories, complaining and celebrating, and most of all, meeting others and reading great comments.

Happy Blogoversary, Wack!  Here's to another year of being a part of this great internet community.

More Friday Freakshow

I'm a little late today for my usual Friday Freakshow, but it's been a busy day. For starters, while Evan's personality has taken a decided up-swing with his gradual maturity, today was a little rough. We're still having trouble with letting Mummy talk on the phone... but it's a work in progress.

We've had some exciting firsts this week. Evan saw his first movie at a theatre. He didn't feel the excitement and anticipation of this event because he didn't know what it was all about. But he was very happy to see Ice Age 3. And he was perfectly behaved. He sat on my lap for comfort and height preferences, but he didn't squirm even once. He asked far fewer questions than I thought he would, and made no disruptions. (I don't count potty breaks--even multiple potty breaks--as disruptive because they are just a fact of life.)

The same evening, following the movie, Evan saw his first ever fireworks. It was a busy and exciting Canada Day for him! He was wowed by the fireworks, but more than that, he kept up a running commentary on them: "Wow! That one was red! Look at that one! Look how high they go! Did you see that one, guys? Did you see it?" And on and on it went. I think the only thing better for him would have been on the boat setting them off.

And then to top off a great exciting week, we got Evan's first fish.



Beautiful, isn't it?

We've also had Evan's first dead pet.

No, the fish didn't last. Apparently I'm not a good pet-mummy... I didn't do my homework. I had the water analyzed today and found out it was too alkaline. I thought untreated spring-fed-well water was a good thing. Uh oh. Anyways, I put the poor little dead guys to rest (Good-bye, Puppy Nemo. May you rest in peace. Flush.) , cleaned the little tank and treated the water. In a few days the water will be analyzed again and, if found safe, will be the new home for another unfortunate creature... or two. We'll see.

In the meantime, Evan got a chance to mourn his new short-lived little friend. "I'm so sad, Mummy." He told me. "He was so beautiful!"

Check out other fabulous photo-stories at Carrie's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta.

Spring Clean-up 2009

It's that magical time of year again. It comes only twice a year... the opportunity to celebrate our hick-ness in a very special way. (Not to be confused with hick-y-ness, which is an entirely different thing--with it's own set of stories--for another time.) It's when we in these here backwoods put out our trash. No, not the usual bi-weekly trash run. (Regular trash day is exciting in it's own way; but it's usually with me forgetting to put it out and consequently storing up 6 or 8 weeks worth of trash in the garage.)

This is something extraordinarily spectacular: twice a year (spring and fall) we country folk get a chance to get rid of all the other stuff that the regular trash collector won't (or can't) take. Not only can we dispose of our old, used, broken-down crap, it also allows us the opportunity, which no one takes lightly, to thoroughly inspect and grab other people's crap.

Yes, folk, that was me that was stopped in front of your house looking at the broken tricycle. No, I didn't know it was broken, I was just browsing....

Memories pop into my head of years past... a Ford Fairlane type car screeching to a halt in front of our house, a mom behind the wheel revving the engine, a young boy hopping out to see if it's the item they really really want... "Mom! It's a whole roll of linoleum!" "Stop yelling and get it in the trunk!" ... before speeding off. My gape-mouthed staring from 20 feet away didn't appear to deter them at all from their road-side shopping.

Another memory, this time of me putting out a pile that threatened to topple over onto Evan any time he got close.



He was such a trooper, hauling it out for me, and at only 2 and a half years old! Okay, that wasn't so much child slave labour, as just keeping him busy.

Which reminds me: they're coming tomorrow. I better get that child moving and load up the wheelbarrow!
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My Hibiscus Comes Back To Life!

(Pssst! Today I'm wordless because so much has been taken out of me with dealing with the whole identity theft... a story for another time. Trying right now to get back to my(?) life and find something to enjoy...)

I Don't Normally Like Surprises, But When They're This Good....

I wasn't going to blog. I had no intention at all. I even mentioned in the comment to another blogger I wasn't going to. But it's like a compulsion: I can't seem to help myself.

I had an awesome surprise today. (Sorry for those who live for hearing complaints and whining: not going to happen this time. Hey, there's gotta be a first time for me!)

I took Evan to the pool. And when I say the pool, I mean: an indoor heated pool at a nearby resort/hotel-type-thing. Cuz we don't live in a big enough area to warrant a real pool. But hey, it works for us.

I haven't taken Evan there for over a year, and was frankly scared to do it by myself. (Memories of chasing a wild-acting crying pooping diaper-wearing defiant toddler in my head everytime I even thought to think of this.) I had myself all worked up thinking about the potential for physical pain I'd have to endure chasing him around a slippery deck and trying to keep him alive and happy. But it was starting out to be such a miserable day with the raining and the racing through all our activities with nothing left for us to do that I figured "what the heck... let's see how bad it can get!" and we went.

I prepared: had my legs waxed, made sure my swimsuit fitted (because, yuck, that would be Nasty), took ginseng AND ate peanut butter (I swear by it for energy), and found Evan a life jacket.

Amazing. Absolutely-freaking-amazing. He was Independent. He was Happy. He Listened. He learned how to doggie-paddle, hold his nose, jump in the water, turn around and over in the water, AND trust what I was saying. I could see it in his eyes. It was like he had lived and suffered and waited his Whole Entire Life for this. He told me, "I could do this all day, every day."

Hours passed like minutes. I swam. I relaxed. I did not feel like my arms were going to fall off from carrying him around. My back did not cramp up and spasm (like usual). We Had Fun.

We so gotta do that again!
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Loose Ends

We've achieved some awesome goals here at the WackyHouse: The Boy has finally completed his growth spurt (of approximately 2 - 3 weeks duration) and is back to his normal cuddly self. Thank goodness! I didn't know how much of the other creature I could take!

I have finished my online business class (but will be starting another in a couple of weeks).

I'm finally over that horrible cold... which thankfully didn't hit The Boy as hard as it hit me.

And I'm done, hopefully, with the latest fibromyalgia flare-up. (Yes, we've been busy.) Because of the fibro flare-up and the cold, I've gained at least 15 pounds and am in my "fat" clothes... 2 sizes up. That's what fibro does to me. Oh, yeah, and that whole "feed a cold" saying is so true; I couldn't stop eating! It was unreal. Luckily I'm back to my normal abhorence for all food (except spicy ethnic, of course). Gotta get back to what exercising I can do to fit back into my normal clothes. So glad spring is here and that nasty dirty cold snow is gone. Yes sirree!

So, as you can tell, I've got a lot of loose ends to tie up here. Might be busy for some time.

Then again, I might not.

Apma and our kindly neighbour helped me move "the rock."




It was awfully nice of them to help, but now how am I going to spend the summer? Oh, yeah: digging out one of the other dozen or so big-ass rocks that are everywhere in my yard!
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Potty-Training, Day 2

Huh. Weird. I bought not just a soaker pad for Evan's bed, to minimize accidents, but I also had a backup plan. I bought a rubber sheet. Not just any rubber sheet. A vinyl zippered "envelope" for the entire mattress. His queen-sized mattress. I had no idea they made them that big. Very weird and, I have to say, a little creepy. But I'm so glad they make them that big!

Am I overzealous? A little anal (no pun intended) with keeping his nighttime accidents minimal and easier for Super-Groggy Mummy to clean up in the middle of the night? Maybe.

Here's the truly weird thing. He's been using regular diapers at nighttime. And soaking them. Every night. Both nights in underwear only (aside from the double mattress protection) he's been dry. Not a bit of damp underwear to be found.

Huh.

Countdown

Okay, the last post was a bust. Didn't even get a single idea in the food department. Oh well.

So, I've been reading in the baby books how when a child becomes 3 years old, he instantly and officially leaves behind the "terrible twos". Wow! I did not know that! I'm so happy I could cry! And the official countdown towards this mysterious and magical transformation happens: 33 days until The Boy turns 3. Yay! I'll let you all (my one reader, that is) know how Evan's personality change turns out.

Happy Christmas to All

I finally have a few minutes of my own here, so I'm going to put down a few thoughts.

We had a really rough year, financially and otherwise. I'm sure I ended up complaining to more than too many friends, but I appreciated those warm, cozy shoulders I cried on. Christmas was not looking good for us. Then, out of the blue, we received surprise after surprise after surprise. After so many months of things going downhill into the s**thole, very thoughtful friends went to great lengths to bring us a bit of cheer. So much so that now I feel guilty! From a fully-costumed Santa Claus visit on Christmas Eve to surprise packages in the mail and bank account, the thoughtfulness did not stop. We ended up having quite a nice little Christmas (and were able to pay a few bills to keep the power and heat going), and I am indebted to so many who went out of their way for us.... family AND friends. I'm working on a way to show my thanks, but in the meantime, here's what it meant to my little boy: