Monday, February 27, 2006

Doctor's Orders

Today Hubby had an appointment with the Neurologist. My job during these visits is to describe any seizures Hubby has had, and what preceded them. It just so happened that Hubby's most recent seizure took place last night, while we were arguing. So, I posed the question to the doctor, "Could the argument have caused the seizure?"

Never ask a question you don't really want the answer to. Because of course, the answer is, "Yes."

Now, I really, truly love my husband beyond belief, but there are times I want to strangle him. Many times. And now I'm not supposed to argue with him? Not fair. Not fair at all.

Let me tell you a little bit about living with a person who has had a Traumatic Brain Injury. What a head injury does is takes a person's existing personality traits and multiplies them times ten. You hear about people getting violent or abusive, but usually that's only if they had some of that in their personality to begin with. Fortunately for us, Hubby didn't. But, he did have many little annoying traits that are now BIG annoying traits.

For example, most people can make their point in a conversation in, say, 3-4 minutes. Hubby was always one of those guys who talked in a more roundabout way, so it would take him 6-7 minutes to make the same point. Mildly annoying, but not a big deal, right? Until the head injury comes along, and turns that into 60-70 minutes. Actually 60-70 minutes is just an estimate. It's kind of like that commercial with the owl trying to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of the Tootsie Roll Pop. I don't know how long it takes because I usually zone out after a half hour or so, and therefore have never actually encountered the spot where he makes his point. But you get my meaning, right?

Okay, so now think of your spouse/significant other, and picture all of their little annoying personality traits. Now picture the same person, with the same traits, intensified times ten. You'd want to strangle them, right? Or at the very least, have the occasional all-out yelling and screaming kind of argument?

Last night's argument concerned the closet in the spare room, and how it would be remodeled. We agreed to put up a shelving unit/half-pole, so we can store some kitchen overflow (paper towels and such) and hang up the winter coats instead of draping them on the dining room chairs. However, Hubby wanted to remove the sheetrock walls and replace them. Why? Because that's what he does. Every single home improvement project the man has ever done, he has taken the walls/floor/ceiling down to the studs. And sometimes he even replaces the studs. When we replaced the bathroom shower enclosure, the dog actually jumped through the bathtub into the backyard. Several times. Someday I will have a brand new house, because every single piece of wood/sheetrock will be less than ten years old.

Anyway, back to the closet. I want to leave the walls as is. I mean, it's only a closet, right? Who cares if there are marks on the walls where the old shelves used to be? But, in the spirit of compromise, I offered to paint the walls first, so they'd be the same white as the shelving unit. Okay, okay, maybe it wasn't exactly the spirit of "compromise", maybe it was more the spirit of "Why can't we for once decide on a project and then just DO IT, without making it a bigger deal than it has to be" and the spirit of, "Just for once I want to do it MY way instead of yours" followed closely by "Take the closet and shove it up your &*$#@%!"

Have I mentioned that one of Hubby's previously mildly annoying traits was that he was a tad bit stubborn? Can anyone guess what he's doing right now, in this very room, as I type this? Yep. He's ripping the sheetrock out of the closet. Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike sheetrock dust? Particularly UNNECESSARY sheetrock dust? Unnecessary sheetrock dust that I can't even ARGUE with him about?

Spring better get here quick. Otherwise I might be tempted to replace the closet doorknob with one that locks. Which might, just, ACCIDENTALLY end up locked while he's inside. Accidentally, of course.

Update: It gets worse. The whole time I was typing this when I thought he was ripping down the walls, do you know what he was actually ripping down? The ceiling. 'Cause, that really NEEDED to be replaced.

How early in the day is it acceptable to drink wine? Because I'm thinking NOW sounds good!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 12:20 PM :: 11 Comments:

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Saturday, February 25, 2006

So Very Proud

Some of the names I've called my daughter since I started this blog:

Very Attractive Daughter
Very Capable Blackbelt
Exceptionally Brillant Daughter
Growing Up Too Fast Daughter
Annoyed With The Situation Daughter
Decidedly Diplomatic Daughter
Distrustful Daughter
Exceedingly Patient Daughter
Bored Out Of Her Mind Daughter
Glutton For Punishment Daughter
Perpetually Procrastinating Daughter
Doubtful That We'd Ever Finish Daughter
Never Thought She'd Need To Wash Her Mother's Mouth Out With Soap Daughter
Daughter To The Rescue
Likes To Kiss Frogs Daughter
Newly Wartless Daughter
and, of course,
Don't Talk To Me Before Dawn Daughter.

Now, thanks to a letter I received in the mail today, I have a new name for her. Please give a round of applause to:

Nominated To Attend The 2006 National Young Leaders Conference Daughter!

That's right, my kid, the one I've called all those names, has been chosen to spend 10 days in Washington D.C. this summer to "witness our nation's democracy in action and to interact with many of today's leaders from Congress, the executive branch, the national news media and the diplomatic corps" (a direct quote from the letter).

Now, because this post is all about that Wonderful Kid Of Mine and not at all about the numbskulls running our country, I'll refrain from making any snide comments about the wording of that particular quote.

So here's to my kid...She makes me very proud!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 5:19 PM :: 12 Comments:

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Friday, February 24, 2006

Technologically-Challenged

My Onion horoscope this week:

You've experienced the convenience of the "copy" keyboard shortcut for years now, but it'll really start paying off after you discover the "paste" keyboard shortcut this week.

Do they know me or what?

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 8:27 AM :: 8 Comments:

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Thursday, February 23, 2006

Revenge Of The Sis

Growing up, I was one of three sisters. When you have three, it always seems to be two against one...Very rarely were all of us united. My older sister and I fought constantly, so it was usually my younger sister who would get pulled from one side to the other. Most of the time it seemed to be Little Sis and I against Big Sis, although whether that was because Little Sis actually wanted to be on my side or just that I "got to her" first, I have no idea.

I was always doing something that embarrassed Big Sis. Often it was unintentional, like the time I lost my wrap-around skirt on the way to school. I had no hips to hold it up (funny how that isn't an issue anymore...NOT that I wear wrap-around skirts these days). The worst part was, I didn't realize the skirt had fallen off until the boy walking a few blocks behind us ran up and handed it to me. So I just set down my lunchbox and bookbag and tied my skirt back on, while Big Sis stood there turning all shades of red.

Then there was the incident with The Redheaded Kid. He was a bully who lived about a block from school, and often when we passed his house he would taunt us. One day I just hauled off and slammed my metal lunchbox into the side of his head. That pretty much ended the taunting. You would think Big Sis would be grateful, but noooo...That was embarrassing too.

When we were teenagers, my parents would occasionally go away for the weekend and leave us home alone. Big Sis, being the oldest, would be left "in charge." Now, Big Sis tended to be a little bossy even when my parents were home, but when she was left in charge she was impossible. At least that's how I viewed it.

One memorable weekend, Big Sis had a friend over. They were much cooler than Little Sis and I, and Big Sis had no problem letting us know it. This particular time, they happened to have a can of Silly String. Big Sis and her friend decided to go for a walk, because that would be sooo much better than hanging out with Little Sis and I. Before they left, though, they used the Silly String. On us.

Now, to be fair, I don't remember what preceded the Silly String attack; there's a very good chance we deserved it. I could be a tad obnoxious when I chose to, and it's likely I chose to pretty often when Big Sis had friends over. At any rate, they sprayed the Silly String and walked away laughing. Which left Little Sis and I behind to plot our revenge.

What we did for revenge was take Big Sis's bed apart and reassemble it in the backyard.

I'm not sure whose idea it was, but it was a good one. We did it right, too...We brought out the the sheets and blankets and pillows, and remade the bed and everything. Then we locked the backdoor and waited.

I don't remember exactly what happened when Big Sis got home. I'm sure she made us unlock the backdoor, and I know she told our parents, although whether she called them immediately or waited until they phoned that night, I have no idea. Little Sis and I brought the bed back inside, although I don't think we were quite as careful with it the second time...I seem to remember the blankets dragging in the dirt a little on the way back in. For a few minutes, though, we had the upper hand, and it felt good.

Anyone else have any good revenge stories?

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 8:22 AM :: 6 Comments:

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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

100 Things About Me

1. I have 9 1/2 toes, due to a mishap with a lawn mower.
2. I was wearing sneakers.
3. Digging up the front lawn so I wouldn't have to mow it is what got me started gardening.
4. I still mow the back lawn.
5. I still wear sneakers.
6. I was named after two of my great-grandmothers.
7. If I had been born male my parents would have named me Travis.
8. I can't whistle.
9. I can't snap my fingers.
10. I can flip my tongue upside down (one direction only) .
11. I was born on the Ides of March.
12. I was supposed to be born on April Fool's Day.
13. I started dating my future husband when I was sixteen.
14. He was thirty-one.
15. If my daughter brings home a 31 year-old when she is sixteen, I will not be happy.
16. Neither will my husband.
17. My mother is a redhead. I'm not, but I inherited her skin.
18. Because my skin is has a reddish tint, people sometimes think I'm blushing when I'm not.
19. When I was a teenager I wore green makeup to hide the red in my skin.
20. I hardly ever wear makeup anymore.
21. I like to bake.
22. I don't like to cook.
23. Fresh-baked bread is my favorite food.
26. My hair is all one length.
27. This is because I'm lazy, and don't want to style it.
28. I live in jeans.
29. In 6th grade I was a Tootsie Roll for Halloween.
30. Other Halloweens I have dressed up as a milk carton, a spider, a flamingo, and a School Crossing sign.
31. My husband got me to dress up as a French Maid for a Halloween party once. Just once.
32. I procrastinate. A lot.
33. I hate panyhose.
35. When I worked in an office, in the winter I would wear longjohns instead of panyhose, with long skirts and tall boots so no one could tell.
36. I can't imagine not having pets.
37. The first time I truly felt like an adult was when my cat died and I was the one who had to bury him. Childbirth didn't do it; burying my cat did.
38. I have always wanted to ride in a hot air balloon.
39. This is despite the fact that I don't like heights.
40. I have two sisters.
41. My older sister is fifteen months older than me.
42. I am here because my mother thought breastfeeding was a form of birth control. She was wrong.
43. On Mother's Day 1999, my husband was in a motorcycle accident and suffered a TBI (Tramatic Brain Injury).
44. Our daughter was in second grade at the time.
45. I was a very good wife right after the accident. I sort of shifted into auto-mode.
46. I'm not sure I was such a good mother. I spent too much time at the hospital, and not enough at home.
47. The day I lost my toe was also Mother's Day, in 1996.
48. I was afraid of Mother's Day for a long time after Hubby's accident.
49. I know how to make chocolate chip cookies, French bread and Taco pie without using a receipe.
50. I prefer red wine to white.
51. But I'll drink either.
52. I don't like to argue in public.
53. People who don't live with me think I'm very even-tempered.
54. I have my father's blue eyes.
55. So does every other descendant of his mother, including my sister's three kids, whose father is Iranian (which is usually the dominant gene).
56. I was twenty when my daughter was born.
57. Her father and I married just before she turned three.
58. We did not go on a honeymoon.
59. This is probably a good thing, since I came down with chicken pox two days after the wedding.
60. My daughter gave them to me.
61. I am closer to my younger sister than my older sister.
62. I seriously doubt I could have made it through the period right after my husband's accident without the support my family gave me.
63. When my husband first came home from the hospital, he couldn't be left alone because it wasn't safe. Once he tried to set a pencil on fire, thinking it was a cigarette.
64. Trying to get from that place back to an equal partnership was very, very hard and there were times I didn't think we'd make it.
65. We're just about there. The decision-making is probably still not 100% equal, but it's close enough that it works.
66. I like to read.
67. I am a Potter fan.
68. Every time a new Harry Potter book comes out, I go back and re-read the previous books in the series. All of them.
69. When Book 7 comes out, I will probably not be on the Internet for awhile.
70. Autumn is my favorite season.
71. My living room has a lot of photographs in it.
72. Most of my furniture is hand-me-downs.
73. That's ok, because I like antiques.
74. Most of it isn't antique now, but eventually it will be.
75. I design, plant and maintain flower beds at commercial buildings.
76. I never know what to list on forms that ask my occupation.
77. When my daughter was born one of my great-grandmothers was still alive, so for a few months we had five generations living.
78. I drink way too much soda.
79. It's diet, but still.
80. I don't like water slides that have tunnels, because the tunnel could get blocked and I don't want to drown in a dark tunnel.
81. I am mildly clausterphobic. Closets are ok. Water slide tunnels are not.
82. I worked in Insurance for ten years before quitting to take up gardening.
83. My husband's accident is what made me realize life is too short to spend another ten years in a job I didn't enjoy.
84. Hubby was not back to work yet himself at the time, so leaving the Insurance Agency was a real leap of faith.
85. I'm very glad I did it.
86. I have only been truly hooked on one video game in my life. It was a farming game called Harvest Moon. The object was to raise chickens, sheep & cows and grow vegetables. Nobody died (unless you left your chickens outside in a typhoon, which I never did).
87. Playing video games where your character may die is too stressful to be fun for me.
88. I also don't like scary movies.
89. Scary books are okay.
90. I like to listen to people with accents.
91. Except when I'm calling tech support.
92. I moved out of my parents' house when I was 17.
93. This was Stupid. I have struggled financially ever since.
94. Although he recovered from the accident, my husband started having seizures in 2003.
95. He used to be a truck driver. He doesn't drive now.
96. I worry about what will happen to my family if something happens to me.
97. My daughter will get her driver's license as soon as she turns 16.
98. I'm not a city person.
99. A few years after we bought the house, my husband and my father built my daughter a treehouse. There wasn't a suitable tree where we wanted to put it, so it's on stilts.
100. My daughter doesn't use the treehouse much anymore, but sometimes I still sit in it. It's a very relaxing place to be on a hot summer afternoon.

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 11:42 AM :: 14 Comments:

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Monday, February 20, 2006

Cheated By Destiny

So, I didn't hit Powerball this weekend. I know you're all disappointed. If you're not, you should be...I was planning to sponser everyone's trip to B-List Blog Chicks '06, AND give really nice swag-bag gifts. Really nice, as in bundles of cash.

I'm one of those people who buys a lotto ticket once a year, if that. Because of this, I actually expect to win. Doesn't it seem like the big winners are always people who never play lotto, and only bought a ticket that one time as a fluke? I really think I should be one of those people. Especially this week. See, this week, the house I've been coveting is up for sale.

I've coveted different houses over the years. This one I've had my eye on for quite awhile. It's a 1785 cape on 2 acres, with a huge old barn in the back. It's right next to an ancient cemetary, which could be a little creepy, but I figure at least we'd have quiet neighbors. The residents of the cemetary would be the only neighbors, since it's on a corner and the lot extends pretty far back. The house was for sale last summer. It had a sold sign on it for awhile, then the sold sign was gone and a "price reduced" sign appeared. Eventually the sign disappeared completely, but now it's back (I did wonder if I should be worried about how often its been on the market, given the proximity to the cemetary, but I figured a ghost or two probably would be easier to take than some of my current neighbors).

I'm not sure what the reduced price last summer was, but now it's selling for $549,000. Unfortunately, that's a tad higher than any mortgage company in its right mind would be willing to give me. There was supposed to be an Open House two weeks ago, which I wouldn't have been able to attend because my daughter had an out-of-state karate tournament. But, due to a blizzard, both the tournament AND the open house were cancelled. So yesterday there was another Open House, and I had no plans. And the Powerball drawing was Saturday night, and since I never buy lotto tickets and therefore could reasonably expect to win, it seemed destiny. I could just waltz in to the Open House and hand the real estate agent a check. Destiny. Sadly, the Lotto Gods did not agree, since I didn't even have one matching number. Sigh.

So, I guess I'll be living in my two-bedroom aluminum-sided shoebox a little longer. If any of you hit the lotto in the next few months, though, I know what I want as my swag-bag gift...

On the Up-Side, I did score this weekend, in a slightly less affluent way. Hubby surprised me by not only suggesting dinner out Saturday night, but also producing a $100 bill he had squirreled away for that very purpose. So, combined with our pre-Superbowl dinner out, that means we've been to more restaurants in the past month than we did all last year. It's not 345 million dollars, but its still not a bad start for 2006!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 10:10 AM :: 16 Comments:

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Friday, February 17, 2006

This One's For You

For Arabella & Mrs. Harridan:

English Muffin Bread
1/4 tsp baking soda
2 packages yeast
5 1/2-6 1/2 cups flour
1 tbsp sugar
2 tsp salt
2 cups milk
1/2 cup water

Combine 3 cups flour with the yeast, sugar, salt, and baking soda in large bowl. Heat milk & water in saucepan to 120-130 degrees F. Add to dry ingredients; beat 2 minutes. Add enough remaining flour to make a stiff dough. Spoon into 2 greased loaf pans. Cover and let rise 45-60 minutes. Bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes. Remove from pans and let cool. Slice and toast.

Note: Just like regular english muffins, this bread doesn't taste like much if you eat it plain. Toasted, though, with some I-Can't-Believe-They-Really-Think-I-Can't- Believe-It's-Not-Butter melted into the nooks & crannies, it's delicious. It also makes great grilled cheese!

And For V & V-Grrrl,
A cure for the February blues. Cheer up, soon all will look like this again:

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 2:13 PM :: 8 Comments:

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Why Dogs Sometimes Wake Up With A Headache

Did you know that if you have a puppy sleeping in the backseat of your car, and you have leather seats, if you take a sharp turn without slowing down enough the puppy will slide all the way across the seat and into the passenger-side door?

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 10:07 AM :: 8 Comments:

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Thursday, February 16, 2006

Did Somebody Slip My Toaster Some Viagra?

Despite my grumblings about it, I've been doing pretty good on the "healthy eating" thing. I'm not calling it a diet, because diets are temporary, and this is supposed to be a lifestyle change. I've lost at least a pound or two consistantly every week except last week, when I went up a pound. But, you know, birthday cake was involved, and I can't be expected to pass up birthday cake, right? Especially homemade birthday cake. Chocolate. Still warm from the oven.

Anyway, I have an elderly toaster. Really, it's only about four years old, but in toaster-years that's around 92. It's harder to tell when toasters have reached their geratric years...There's none of the obvious aging signs like constant misplacing of the car keys and false teeth, or a large number of prescription bottles mixed in with the prunes and bran cereal in what used to be the "snack drawer." With toasters you have to look for the more subtle clues, like a gradual increase in the time it takes to toast a piece of bread. For some time now, anything placed in my toaster and set to "dark" takes at least three "toast cycles" to aquire a medium-brown shade.

Yesterday, instead of my usual one-serving of oatmeal (which equals about three tablespoons), I decided to have English muffin bread with some I-Can't-Believe-They-Really-Think-I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter. So I set the toaster to dark and headed off to plant myself in front of the computer for my daily Catch-Up-On-Everyone's-Blog time. When the toaster beeped, I went in the kitchen and hit the toast button again, without examining the contents. This was a Mistake. I had very dark toast for breakfast yesterday morning.

Today, I really should have had the oatmeal. I know this. But see, we bought Portuguese rolls at the grocery store last night, and I love Portuguese rolls. And they go stale so quickly (well, that's what I've heard anyway...Really they've never hung around long enough in this house to test the theroy). I'm sure my mother's ducks would enjoy the rolls if they went stale, but that would be such a waste. So, I opted to forgo the oatmeal another day, and have a toasted Portuguese roll, with some more of that delicious fake-yellow 60% vegetable oil spread (yum).

So once again, I set the dial to "dark" and left the room. Never let it be said that I don't learn from my mistakes, though, because today when the toaster beeped instead of hitting the button a second time I opened the door to check the color. Yes, I know toasters usually have see-through glass doors, but the doors on four-year-old toasters that have only been cleaned twice are usually not so see-through. Anyway, the Portuguese roll? Was black. Very black. Either my toaster has re-discovered its youth, or it's punishing me for not eating healthy. Either way, it's on its way out. It's enough to have a critical husband...I do NOT need a toaster chiding me for choosing bread over oatmeal. I mean, it's not like I was having birthday cake for breakfast. Homemade birthday cake. Chocolate. Still warm from the oven.

I ate the Portuguese roll anyway. I could have given it to my mother's ducks, but that would have been such a waste...

Oh, and speaking of my mother, she just started her own blog. Check out the River Witch whenever you get a chance!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 7:49 AM :: 12 Comments:

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Wednesday, February 15, 2006

That Kid Of Mine

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 4:26 PM :: 8 Comments:

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Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Stuck In The Middle With You

I've always found birth order classifications interesting. I found a number of websites about this, but most only focused on the negative characteristics of each group. One of the few that has both the positives and negatives also has lots and lots of pop-up ads. You can get there by clicking on this link , but consider yourself warned about the ads. Or you can just read below:

First-born: Natural leaders, over-achievers, perfectionists, and tend to be punctual, organized, and competant. There are two types, either compliant nuturers/caregivers or aggresive movers/shakers. Both are in control; they just use different methods. They don't like suprises. Often moody and occasionally lack sensitivity. Can be intimidating and bossy. Often not good at delegating tasks.

Middle-born: People-pleasers, usually hate confrontation, amaiable, down-to-earth and good listeners. Skilled at seeing both sides of a problem. Eager to be liked, have a difficult time setting boundaries, can become co-dependant as they try to please everybody. Not good at making decisions that will offend others. Tend to blame themselves when others fail.

Last-born: Has strong people skills, out-going, makes friends easily and good at making others feel at home, not afraid to take risks, tend to get bored quickly, strong fear of rejection and a short attention span. When the fun stops, they've had enough and want to check out. To some extent they can be self-centered. May harbor unrealistic expectations of finding a relationship that is always fun.

Only Child: Task-oriented, well-organized, highly conscientious and dependable. Keen on facts, ideas, and details and comfortable with responsibility. Can be unforgiving, demanding, hate to admit they're wrong and usually don't accept criticism well. To others seem very sensitive; their feelings are easily hurt.

I'm the second-oldest of three girls, and I easily see myself in the description of middle-born children. In fact it pretty much fits me to a T. I would be a horrible manager. In addition to the middle child traits, though, I'm not good at delegating tasks, and hate to admit I'm wrong (more reasons why I shouldn't be a manager). I'm also impatient, but that's more a product of my environment in my adult years than a result of my childhood (go ahead, you try living with a person who has had a head injury for a couple of years, and let me know how your patience makes out).

What birth order are you, and do the characteristics fit?

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 8:25 AM :: 14 Comments:

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Monday, February 13, 2006

High School Happenings

The big news here is: Snow! Lots and lots of snow! It's been a mild winter so far, but we made up for it yesterday. There's at least two feet of the powdery white stuff on the ground, possibly a little more. Fortunately it was the powdery kind...Not great for snowball fights, but much better for shoveling than heavy, wet packing snow. I'd post a picture of our winter wonderland for you, but SOMEBODY forgot the camera when I picked her up from band practice Saturday night.

Frequently-Forgetful-Daughter actually belongs to two bands now, one she likes and one she doesn't. The less favorable band is run by a guy with a bit of an ego problem (I know, I know, that's just so unusual with rock bands), which is the reason she wants out. They have one scheduled performance, a school "Open Mike Night", after which she planned on quitting. Open Mike Night was supposed to take place this past Friday, but was postponed the day before and is now set for the end of March. This gives the new band, American Muscle, time to practice, so they may be performing also. To make it even more fun, another member of Ego Boy's Band is thinking of defecting to American Muscle. It looks like Open Mike Night will either be a very tiring night for Dual-Rock-Group-Daughter as she races from one side of the stage to the other, or not such a good night for Ego Boy as he performs alone.

Doesn't all this drama make you miss high school terribly?

Speaking of high school, apparently the new fashion rule is no coats. It's much cooler to show up at school with chattering teeth and a faint blue tinge to your skin than to wear a winter coat. Gloves are ok, even hats are acceptable if they're the right style, but coats are dorky. When I was a teenager we wore coats, but they were always left open in the front; only nerds actually zipped or buttoned them. This progression from unzipped coats to no coats at all has me fearing for my future grandchildren...Is the next generation going to refuse torso-covering clothes completely? Will my daughter struggle with her children to get them to wear shirts to school? Or maybe they'll wear shirts, but refuse to button them?

I'd better start hoping all my grandchildren will be boys...

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 7:38 AM :: 9 Comments:

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Thursday, February 09, 2006

Inventory

Under the loveseat:
Two half-eaten rawhide bones
Three small wooden balls
Two bubblegum machine bouncy balls (we used to call these "superballs" when I was a kid, but that term takes on a different meaning as an adult)
One hoof
Two wine corks
One cardboard toliet paper roll insert, chewed on one end
Two furry grey mice (cat toys, not live mice)
Enough pet hair to knit a kitten-sized sweater (good luck getting him into it, though)

Under/behind the sofa:
One Othello game piece
One Christmas tree ornament
Three bubblegum machine bouncy balls
One large bouncy ball
Three hair scrunchies (my daughter and I have been known to fling them at each other while watching TV)
One pencil
One sock
One martial arts token (given out by the karate school for good attendance)
Enough pet hair to make at least one more cat, possibly two (depending on the size)

Sadly, I did not find any steak knives, so if the kitten's hiding them somewhere, he's got a different spot to stash them in. He was oh-so-helpful about cleaning under the furniture, though. I've found that if he spends enough time rolling in my dirt pile (which believe me, he does), there won't be much left for me to sweep into the dustpan. Now if I could only figure out how to teach him to use the broom...

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 12:48 PM :: 12 Comments:

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Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Should Funeral Protesters Be Protected Under Free Speech Rights?

My local newspaper carried this article today on the front page. I'm speechless. This is wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to start.

If you don't have time to read the whole article (or, like me, you felt sick after reading the first two paragraphs and didn't want to continue), it's about how a church group is picketing funerals of solders, saying they were struck down by God because they were fighting for a country that "harbors homosexuals." Apparently they also picketed the funerals of the West Virginia miners, claiming God killed the miners for the same reason, carrying signs that read "Thank God For Dead Miners." A number of states are now considering passing laws that would limit when and where protesters can picket at funerals. This "church" (I use the term loosely) has threatened to sue if the laws are passed, claiming the government is trying to limit their right to free speech.

I'm not an advocate of more legislation, and I'm all for free speech. But what this group is doing is just plain wrong. How can anyone, no matter what religion, think this is how God wants us to behave? Isn't there some way we can stop them, without the need for more laws? We're all conditioned to do what's "politically correct." Maybe in some cases we should stop.

If I owned a business, and one of these picketers came into my store, I would kick them out. If I employed any of these people I would fire them. If companies can fire people for smoking, why not for spreading hate? Maybe if these "churchgoers" couldn't buy groceries or gas, and the people at the diner where they used to have breakfast refused to serve them, and the guy at the movie theater refused to sell them tickets, maybe they'd stop picketing funerals. Yeah, I know, they'd probably still be self-righteous assholes, but maybe fear of repercussion (not violent or illegal repercussion, just some old-fashioned "shunning") would make them think twice about spreading their hate.

Even as I type this I realize advocating shunning is a dangerous practice. I think funeral picketers are wrong. If someone else thinks homosexuals or women who have children out of wedlock are wrong, should they be allowed to shun them? Absolutely not. We certainly don't want to go back to those days. So what is the answer, then? Are more laws the way to go? What does everyone else out there think?

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 3:06 PM :: 10 Comments:

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What Not To Name The Baby

While putting the dishes away yesterday, I noticed we're missing some steak knives. The knife block holds eight, but for some reason we're down to just five.

When my daughter was younger, spoons would often go missing in the summer, but usually I'd find them in the sandbox out back. And when I was a kid forks would vanish, then re-appear in the silverware drawer slightly bent (we had a rabbit cage that was hard to open, and forks were often used as a substitue for a crow-bar). But knives? Knives don't usually disappear.

This morning I was in my customary spot, planted on the sofa sipping the coffee Hubby was kind enough to bring me, when Sammy jumped on the dining room table. Cats are not allowed on the tables in this house, but Sammy hasn't figured that out yet. Or doesn't care, I'm not sure which. At any rate, while I contemplated whether I was awake enough to get up and shoo him off, he knocked something onto the floor then jumped down after it. Hearing it hit the floor with a clang, I figured I better go get it before he spirited off something important like my car keys. So I pryed myself off the couch and went to investigate.

Sammy didn't have car keys. Sammy had a steak knife. And he very quickly knocked it far enough under the table that I had to move a chair and get down on my hands and knees to retrieve it.

Now I'm thinking I should start checking under furniture for the missing knives. Believe me, I really don't want to see what's under that sofa. And I'm wondering...Is it normal for kittens to collect knives? Should I start sleeping with one eye open? I know we named him Samauri, but I didn't expect him to take the name seriously.

The next cat we get is going to be called Cuddles.

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 10:24 AM :: 6 Comments:

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Saturday, February 04, 2006

Planting By Numbers

Ah...February. One month closer to spring. Regardless of whether the groundhog sees his shadow or not (did he? I wasn't paying attention), this is usually when I start planning for the warmer weather. And warmer weather, for me, means planting. Lots of planting. To give you an idea of what I mean by "lots", I've broken it down by the numbers. Last spring, this is what I did:

Tilled:
356 bags of manure &
72 bales of peat moss into
43 flower beds

Mixed:
17 bales of promix with
93 bags of topsoil to make soil mix for
42 flower pots &
136 window boxes

Planted:
129 Argyranthemum
518 Begonias
215 Bidens
115 Calibrachoa
6 Diascia
68 Dracena spikes
1263 Geraniums
475 Hibiscus
38 flats of Impatiens
44 Ivy
6 Lantana
392 Nemesia
199 New Guinea Impatiens
621 Scaevola
456 Petunias
28 Torenia

To be fair, I do have help tilling the first eighteen flower beds, but I'm on my own for the rest of them. And the guys do most of the work planting the topiaries, so I didn't list them. But I shape all the beds myself (even the first eighteen), and I do all the planting alone. So, that means I dug roughly 4,839 holes last spring. And the worst thing of all? I can't wait until it all starts up again.

Sick, huh?

So in a few months, when everyone else is flying kites or hunting down Easter Eggs, I'll be standing on a mound of dirt in muddy jeans, splitting open bags of manure. Bet you're all jealous!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 12:51 PM :: 8 Comments:

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Friday, February 03, 2006

Lesson Of The Week

Never eat Chinese food while watching The Daily Show. I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my fried rice.

I really think we need to elect this man president. Who's with me on this? How do we start a movement? Other celebrities did it. If Ronald Regan, Arnold Shwartzenegger (yeah, I know I butchered his name, but I don't care) & Sonny Bono could get themselves elected to office, why not Jon Stewart?

I'm not talking about him being a write-in candidate. I think he needs to actually run. It would be great if the Democrats endorsed him, but even if he went Independant...

Lets' get bumper stickers made up. JON STEWART FOR PRESIDENT!

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 7:42 AM :: 6 Comments:

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Thursday, February 02, 2006

The Java Jitters

I am one of those people that absolutely cannot function without my morning cup of coffee. It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I started drinking the stuff, but boy, it doesn't take long to get hooked. Back then, once in awhile I'd forget to get my caffeine-fix, and by 11am I had an awful splitting headache (a symptom of withdrawal). I never forget now. It's not that I drink that much; most days I probably have the equivalent of a cup and a half. It's just that I need it.

My morning coffee routine goes something like this: I stumble out of bed, hit the bathroom, then head for the couch. Hubby pours me coffee and brings it to me. In between yawning and warding off kitten-attacks, I have three or four sips. By this time, Hubby's on his second cup, and he brings the pot over and tops mine off too. I drink maybe half of that, then take my shower. The challenge after the shower is to find my mug; I seem to leave it in a different spot every day. If it's somewhere high, like the mantle, I'll top if off again, add a little more cream, and microwave it if necessary. If it's been left on the coffee table, I usually dump it out and start over (the dog likes coffee, and has been known to sample anything left within her reach). The after-shower cup rarely gets finished, either, before I have to leave to take my daughter to school. Very rarely do I make it to the bottom of a mug.

Some days, if I'm heading out somewhere, I'll pick up another cup at Dunkin Donuts. Today was one of those days. I had to take the car in to get the emissions-system repaired, and I knew I'd be sitting at the dealership for awhile. Most car dealers have coffee for their customers, but usually they have that powdered-imitation-milk-stuff instead of cream. I like cream. Since I figured I'd be there awhile, I picked up a medium coffee at Dunkin Donuts instead of a small.

A medium Dunkin Donuts cup is actually pretty large. But, for lack of anything better to do, I finished the whole thing while sitting in the customer lounge. After an hour the mechanic came out to tell me it would take another two hours to fix the car. Since I really didn't want to spend the whole morning in the lounge, I called my aunt, who owns a ceramic tile store not far from the dealership, and asked her to pick me up. To thank her, I decided to treat her to coffee. I put cream in two large cups, figuring on getting myself a decaf, but it turned out the decaf pot was empty. So we both ended up with full-strength cups. Large, full-strength cups. Can you guess how jittery I was by lunchtime? I'm surprised the lady at the Ford dealership allowed me to take the car home, the way my hands were shaking when I signed that credit card slip. She probably thought I was an addict. Come to think of it, I guess I am.

So this afternoon, Hubby asked me to take him out to get cigarettes. I don't like to do this, because I really don't want him to smoke, but I've learned over the years that refusing to take him to the store doesn't really prevent him from smoking. He'll get his cigarettes one way or another, but if I make him walk I'll also succeed in making him mad. And I have to live with him, you know? Plus, given my need for caffeine, I can sympathize with the whole addiction-thing. I stayed in the car while he went in for his smokes, and to thank me for taking him, he brought us both out nice, big coffees. I'm sitting here looking at mine now. I took a couple of sips in the car to be polite, but as soon as he's not looking I'm going to sneak into the kitchen and pour it out. Once a day is more than enough to experience the shakes.

Hey, I could be addicted to worse things.

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 3:52 PM :: 7 Comments:

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Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Happy Birthday, Little Sis!

I was going to write an embarassing story about you for your birthday, but I couldn't think of any. Well, besides the haircutting incident, but I already wrote about that. I know there are plenty more, and I'm sure they'll all get posted here eventually, but at the moment I'm drawing a blank. And I thought about scanning that picture of us sitting on the couch in our Wonder Woman Under-roos, playing with Quiz-Wiz, but the only copy I have of it is on a VHS tape, and I couldn't figure out how to cut and paste that. Plus, I don't have a scanner. So that's a no-go too. I looked up your horoscope on The Onion, but that wasn't all that exciting either. So, for lack of a better idea, I researched this day in history. Here are some of the historical events that took place on your birthday:

February 1, 1261: Walter de Stapledon, an English Bishop, was born. I have no idea who he was, I just think it's neat that I found a date that far back.

February 1, 1790: The Supreme Court convened for the very first time, in New York City.

February 1, 1861: Texas secedes from the Union. If the Civil War had ended differently, I wonder who would be president today?

February 1, 1862: The poem "Battle Hymn of the Republic" by Julia Ward Howe was published in the Atlantic Monthly.

February 1, 1884: The first volume of the Oxford English Dictionary A-Ant was published. The first volume! Of a dictionary! So, if you were looking up "anteater" I guess you were in luck, but you had to wait for the next volume if you needed to know how to spell "ardvark."

February 1, 1913: New York City's Grand Central Terminal opens as the world's largest train station. Given your history with trains, I thought you'd find that one interesting.

February 1, 1914: The first baseball game ever to be played in the Egyptian desert takes place as part of a 56-game world tour promoting baseball. The White Sox and the Giants tied 3-3. Hmm. I wonder what temperature the Egyptian desert is in February?

February 1, 1920: The Royal Canadian Mounted Police begin operations. Go, Dudley Do-Right!

February 1, 1938: Sherman Helmsley was born. Go, George Jefferson!

February 1, 1946: A press conference was held at the University of Pennsylvania to announce ENIAC, the first electronic digital computer.

February 1, 1952: A new method of tracking down users of unlicensed television sets in the U.K. is unveiled. Apparantly this was a big deal. The photo shows what looks like an army vehicle with the words TELEVISION DETECTOR VAN painted on the side, and a caption that reads "Up to 150,000 people do not have a television license." It's a good thing I don't live Britain, because I guess I'm one of them.

February 1, 1960: Four black college students began a series of sit-ins at a white-only lunch counter in a North Carolina Woolworth store.

February 1, 1965: The National League (baseball) adopts a disaster plan in case a team's plane crashes. I found that one on a baseball history site. Also, Princess Stephanie of Monaco was born. Wasn't she the rebellious one? I can never keep the royal families straight.

February 1, 1968: Lisa Marie Presely was born.

February 1, 1974: The "Good Times" sitcom premired. I guess Dad & Mom missed it, since they were likely at the hospital having you.

February 1, 1978: Roman Polanski (movie director and widower of actress Sharon Tate, who was murdered by the Mansons) skipped bail after pleading guilty to statuatory rape of a 13-year-old. He fled to Europe, where he continues to direct movies, including 1988's Frantic, 2002's Academy Award winning The Pianist, and 2005's Oliver Twist. I had no idea. I just rented Frantic a few weeks ago, and now I wish I didn't. How come nobody's arrested him?

Feburary 1, 1984: The chancellor of Great Britain announces the country will discontinue production of the Halfpenny coin. Miss Piggy's version of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" will never be the same.

February 1, 2004: Janet Jackson suffered a "wardrobe malfunction" at the Superbowl.

February 1, year unknown: In Roald Dahl's book, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Willie Wonka gives his factory tour to the golden ticket prizewinners. I thought this was a better note to end on than good old Janet.

So, on your birthday, Little Sis, I hope you have lots of chocolate (whether you get a factory tour or not), and no wardrobe malfunctions. Also, I hope you don't get arrested for having an unlicensed TV (although the Supreme Court case for that one would be pretty interesting to follow).

Posted by The Gradual Gardener :: 11:02 AM :: 10 Comments:

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