Where I'm From

I am from faded jeans and Dad’s cardigans, from Michelob and Pepsi, and The Sons of the Pioneers.

I am from the cool mountain pines; gentle breezes on dry clear summer days; dirt roads and winding paths and bonfires on Friday nights; Lynx Lake with all its hidden trails and the fish I never could catch.

I am from the junipers and mountain lakes, the saguaro and mesquites in bloom.

I am from big buffet dinners, “always room for one more”, “you’re only a stranger once”, and laughing aloud to the Sunday Comics, from June and Mary, and friends so close they’re family.

I am from the procrastinators and those who’ve never met a stranger.

From ”You’ve got such potential!” and ”hush little baby, don’t say a word”.

I am from enthusiastic Amens and humble prayers, from a solid rock and “Jesus loves me”. From fellowship and brotherhood and abiding love. From the comfort of a well-worn Bible and the struggle of living its directions.

I'm from the mining towns of Arizona, and the farms of Tennessee. From farmers, ranchers, entrepreneurs. From a newsstand owner and a fiery widow. From Germans and Irish, Dutch and English, but wholly American. From buttered noodles and thick steaks and hot coffee.

From the death of my father, always wondering “do I get this stubbornness from him? This sense of humor?”, the gift of my stepfather, knowing “Dad loved this”, and the depth of being loved by the family I married into.

I am from the backyard swing in Texas, five years old and full of life; from the Christmas gatherings in Albuquerque, bittersweet, even then. I’m from green chile burritos, cruising Tramway, and hiking the Appalachain Trail. From the airport in Charlotte and a suburb of Pittsburgh. I’m from the apple orchard in Gleason, TN, and Mr. Brown’s farm down the road.

I’m from sunrise in the kitchen, hot coffee and fresh note paper. From the local news talk show and the annual lighting of the Courthouse.

And from my husband, I’m from New Mexico, from sheepherders and teachers and cowboys. From Corona days and barn dances and hunting in Cloudcroft. From mormon tea plants and lamb’s quarters, the Rio Grande and the Gallo. From so much more than before...

Hat Tip to Amy, who found it (and directions/tips for making one of your own) here. Give it a try, and if you do it, either let us know where you blogged it or, if you don't have a blog, leave it in the comments section.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Oooooooo, 'dat's nice!

Zorak ventured into town today and returned bearing gifts - namely, a contractor's pack of window trim (which translates to, "a whole lotta trim")! I can't tell you how sexy that is.

The kitchen and dining room windows are now all painted. The tape has been removed, and they are awaiting the trim (which will have to be done during the week, but it's here, on site, and that is HUGE). The windows in the boys' room and the master bedroom are cleaned and sanded, ready for tape (another alluring gift Zorak brought me - he's on a roll today!) I was going to tape the windows while the boys got ready for bed, but then I realized there are three of them, what-was-I-thinking?!?! So, it can wait. Easier on the ol' ticker.

Smidge did so well with the toilet training today. It probably helped that 80% of the day was spent outside, naked. It's just a lot more fun to pee outside than in the house. Or, allow me to correct that -- than in the potty. It is, an astute observer would have noticed today, quite fun to pee in the hallway. But, he's got the basic idea, and those nasty little candy-coated kisses are pure gold - he even high-tailed it to the potty of his own accord after supper. WOO HOO! (Have y'all tried those? They don't taste *right* - they're like carob chips, or some other imitation of real candy. We can't put our fingers on just what's off about them, though, and Smidge doesn't know any better, so what the heck - it's a good way to get rid of them.)

Thanks for the paint commiseration. If I discover the magic formula, I promise to share it. I'm still holding out hope that Alaska will chime in with what worked on their Forever Home after her mad-mad-marathon-o-painting.

Zorak is building sawhorses from some of the salvaged lumber so that we have somewhere to lay the trim and the doors for painting. To be more specific, so that we can paint these items downstairs, away from curious little fingers and the clumsy children to which said fingers are attached. When he emerges, we're going to call it an early night and watch some dismally horrible movie together. Yes, again with the romance - and the thing is, I'm not being sarcastic. I really love this weird little existence we have; bad movies, house fixin's, the wayward urinator and all... *happy sigh*

Today there was no rain. You have not seen a woman wash so many clothes in a day - and be this happy about it - in a long, long time. (Perhaps not since we got running water to the house and I COULD wash clothes.) The canopy is lush, the honeysuckle is in bloom (upwind, so I can enjoy the scent, but far enough away that I don't have to deal with the bees), and I realized I have it good. Really good. And I'm thankful.

Oh, I just heard Zorak making coffee - time to go enjoy that wonderful hubby.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

On help and children...

Will somebody PLEASE share with me the Disney-like magic that is required to paint trim? Please? The Romper Room priming job, while, well, ugly, sanded quite nicely and is smooth to the touch. And it did its job, as you cannot see the wood now with only one coat of the top paint over the primer.

But this paint job just isn't, um, well, working. I CAN'T DO THIS!! And it's making me nutty. The color is beautiful. The high-gloss sheen would be beautiful if I could get the paint to lie flat. Smooth.

I cleaned, sanded, wiped, primed, sanded again. I bought the fancy-schmancy "angled sash brush" - and not the el-cheapo two-dollar one, either. It's a really nice brush. The paint is good stuff, too. But I'm getting bumps and waves and lines. And when I finish and think it finally looks really nice (or at least not hideous), it waits until I walk away and the stuff buckles up, folds in on itself and runs. Then Zorak walks past it, sees a mockup of Madame Tussaud's after a fire, and wonders what I'm smoking and why.

This is 100%, totally and without hesitation to admit it: OPERATOR ERROR.

I've tried thicker coats, thinner coats, grand sweeping motions, slow meticulous motions... and the result is always the same: bad. *Gah.* And this, after I tried being so encouraging to someone else with my, "You could TOTALLY do this, really" rhetoric.

On other fronts:

The HVAC guy came out today. He gets it. Of course, he saw the place back in August, when we were trying to close on it, too. So that's settled and we'll be installing HVAC around the end of the month. Wow. Central Air. Those are beautiful words.

Smidge actually used the potty today! And the floor. And the couch. And the driveway. Two out of four ain't bad. ;-)

Ain't. This word is sneaking its way into the boys' vocabulary. Yes, the irony that my use of the word just now reminded me of it is not lost on me. I, however, was mutilating a song title. The boys have decided it's funny. This is not funny. When you mutilate a word, or use a word such as ain't long enough, you will eventually forget that it's a joke. One day you wake up and find that some horrible word or phrase has embedded itself into your vocabulary - and that you really mean it when you use it! ARGH! There's still hope for them. They still think they're joking. John used it today and there was a small, but significant, pause and a smirky-chuckle thing that emanated from his lips as he paused. So there is hope. (right?)

Night has fallen on Narnia. I'm a basketcase. John still has no clue where they all are, but agrees that it's one grand adventure. James catches my voice cracking and pipes up with, "It's okay, Mom. They're in 'Aslan's Country' now." Well. Yeah. I know that. But. But. BUT IT'S SAAADDDDDDD. "No, it's not sad. It's beautiful." Huh. Out of the mouths of babes. I get the allegory (or the not-quite-allegory), and I know, in my head, that "all is well", but you know, I'm pretty heavily invested in life on this earth at the moment, and the mere thought of the children... *gasp**choke**sob* Well, at least they haven't asked me to read The Littlest Angel in a while. So it could be worse.

And it seems Miss Emily is up. Again. I can't complain, as she's been sleeping well ever since that one fretful morning. (Although I wasn't going to mention it for fear of jinxing it - I can, now that she's broken her streak herself.) And so I am going to go and cuddle my sweet baby girl, maybe read a little of my book to her (that always reminds me of Three Men and a Baby - "It's not what you read, it's the tone of your voice.") Perhaps even hit the hay a little early tonight. If I can get the boys' windows painted and trimmed, I'll post pictures of those this coming week.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

We Can Buckle Down Tomorrow

Gale Force winds, enough rain to swell the creek 4 times its normal size, animals crossing the property in pairs of two, clean and unclean...

Nope, didn't do any laundry today.

Didn't paint, either. I live in perpetual fear that the latex paint is going to rebel against being laid down in this humidity and that it will, for revenge, dry permanently soft and kinda tacky. (I honestly have no idea what causes that, only that in New Mexico, when that happens, we blame it on the whopping 20% humidity that day.)

What did we do? We read. Grimm's Fairy Tales, Tales of Old Korea, The Last Battle, The Book of Joshua, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Frosty the Snowman, and Dancing Dinos (it can't all be deep reading) -- we fed our imaginations and explored the world without ever having to set foot outside in the flood, er, rain.

We snacked. Peanut butter and honey on toast, crackers and cheese, freshly blended fruit slushies, thick and gooey hamburger pie -- we kept our bellies full and the table busy.

We played. Spin-the-pink-chair-til-someone-cries. Well, okay, that one didn't hold much nostalgic value. But there was a pillow fight, a wrestling match, tape roll races and playing in the mud between downpours. Oh, and Miss Emily rolled over - not once, but twice (and she's still mad about it).

What actually got done today? Oh, plenty. We lived. We laughed. We read and talked. We took the day and lived it intentionally. The windows will still be there when the rain stops. The laundry won't ever be "done", not completely. But the boys and Miss Emily will never be as small as they are today. They won't be the same tomorrow as they were today, and I wouldn't have missed today for all the material things in the world. I'm glad I didn't miss it.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wednesdays are LONG!

However, today was productive on many fronts:

The indoctrination of the small one is nearing completion. Tonight, Smidge made a collage of "family", and it was the sweetest little thing to see him pointing to these images of toned, manicured, beautiful people, saying, "Mama... Dad! My Dad!... " *sniff* You've learned well, young grasshopper.

The eldest one seems to have missed the whole point of forging your parents' names... He came running into the hall after class tonight and we had the following exchange:
Son: Mom, if you've got a pen, I need to borrow it, please.

Mom: Wow, well, sure, Son. Whatcha doing?

Son: Oh, I need to write your name so I can build a fire.

Mom: *blink**blink* Oh....?

I touched base with the instructor, who filled me in. One of their badges involves learning how to build and light a camp fire, but the instructor wanted to get parental permission beforehand to let us know what's happening with the kids, and he wasn't sure all the parents would be comfortable having their children near fire. (Zorak also brought up the point that this gives the parental units a heads up that their children are to be exposed to... "certain technology", which may carry the potential for abuse. Good point.) Of course I gave my okay - the boys have been tossing construction debris into the fire ring for months - but I'm still trying to figure out just what on earth made James think he should sign my name -- or why he'd mention it to me in the process!

You! Move! - John heard last week that he'd be moving to a different class over the summer, and he wasn't too happy about it. He'd been a bit standoffish about the whole prospect all week, even to the point of asking if he can just not move up at all. We talked this morning as we hung clothes, and during the course of the conversation I managed to figure out that he was thinking HE, alone, was going to have to be moved, for some unspecified reason. Once I explained that his whole class would be advancing to the next level, and that it happens each year, he was much relieved and rather excited.

Thanks for taking a peek at the photos of the renovation ("remodel" just doesn't seem to convey the umpf of the project, does it?) We're still plugging along. Several of y'all have asked about the official expiration date on the Right of Redemption, and according to TPTB (in this case, the Papers that Be) it's the 19th of May. Prayers would be much appreciated. ;-)

I did some severely piddly stuff today - laundry, installing outlet covers, laundry. Zorak tackled another closet organizer - this one in our room! It needs a little tweaking, as it's a lot more modular than the one we (ha - HE, not we) put into the boys' closet. (OK, he's sitting here, informing me that it's not modular. It's just the components rather than a full kit. There's a difference. In my defense, though, we bought the components because they have a more modular design - in that the brackets can be moved around and futzed with without having to fiddle with the holes in the walls... Sometimes it's hard to type full conversations and have any of it make sense.)

Anyway, where was I? Oh, and he put the casings (casing overlays? casing facades?) on the kitchen windows. Starting to look better already!

But I've now been up for 21.5 hours. I'm done. G'nite!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Kitchen Remodel Photos

Ok, so if I wait until it's completely finished, I'll probably be posting pics along with the boys' college graduation photos. SO, without further much more ado, here's the montage of the kitchen changes.

I feel compelled to point out a few things, first, though.

The barstool cushions look like that because small children spill myriad things on them... and I'm cleaning them TO-DAY. Ew. I was tempted to edit that part out, but decided I'd shame myself into rectifying the situation, instead.

There are two bookshelves in the kitchen, doing pantry duty. We'll order the Swiss Army Cabinet later this month and it will go to the left of the sink counter. That'll absorb a lot of the clutter you see. Not all, but some. *grin*

Yes, the sink is not aligned with the window. That's not because we're aiming for an abstract kitchen. It's because when we replace the windows, it will be in the middle, and that window will span the wall.

Obviously, we still have no flooring (it will be hardwoods), or trim (someday...), or kickboards (they'll go up w/ the trim - they're in the basement, um, acclimating, now). So, still a bit to be done. But the progress has been good so far.

*Edited to add:
Jess, the range has a built-in griddle. The shiny silver flat spot to the right of the kettle is the cover for a huge, Waffle-House style griddle.
Also, if you click on the slideshow, each photo has a caption that explains a bit about what you're looking at.

Alright, already, I'll shut up - here are the Kitchen Remodel photos.

And, in case you missed the Bathroom Remodel, you can click here to see it.

It's not going to make it to Better Homes & Gardens, but it's certainly a Better Home - it's our Forever Home.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Four Down...

The kitchen and dining room windows are primed. It looks like a Kindergarten Art Class has been turned loose in there. I did everything the way I'm supposed to do it: clean, sand, wipe, tape, prime... even bought the super whomperdine brush for it and used an oil-based primer, thinking that might be thinner than the latex. It just doesn't look "right". Zorak swears it's going to look gorgeous, but I think I may be creating my very own little hand-shaped paper turkeys in there.

So far, I've learned a lot:

* Yes, the upper windows are supposed to come down like that. Well, not to fall down randomly the way they do, but yes, they are intended to be lowered if you would desire to do that.

* The storm windows may have be installed by the same guy who built the pillars in the basement scary room (the ones that go up just far enough to be clear they wouldn't hit a joist and then end there, mid-air.)

* Moths really like to hang out in the space between your storm windows and the inside windows. Really Like It.

* It takes all day to prep and paint window frames when you have four children and no tranquilizer gun.

* When it gets dark, you need to stop painting.

* If you don't, you'll learn that moths stick to oil-based paint pretty well.

* Yes, that's as gross as it seems.

* I'm pretty sure the Big Orange Book uses the phrase, "Trim is Forever", not because you can't change your trim color, but because once a happy homeowner gets all the windows in a home painted, happy homeowner would rather jab toothpicks up his nose than go through that again.

Well, anyway, it was a busy day, but definitely goes into the "what made me think I could do this" file. Today should be good. Miss Emily and I crashed around ten thirty last night. So here we are, up at four. We hung out for a bit, but she wasn't sure she wanted to be up any more than I. She is now happily watching a documentary on student teachers while I try to decide if I'd rather get dressed and start the day or go back to bed. (If there was any hint that it'd be light shortly, I'd get started on the day, but it's really quite dark-and-creepy outside.) There is a book calling my name... hmm... Coffee's ready, kids are asleep... this is technically like getting free hours in the day, isn't it?

Ok, that settles it, I'm going to curl up with a book! Have a wonderful day!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I'm Just Not Funny

Laney and I have talked about it. She knows my pain. I want to make Zorak laugh - the deep, from-the-toes laugh of true hilarity. I want to make him laugh the way Ron White makes me laugh. For ten years, I've been grasping at the few strands of humor I maintain, twisting them in knots, setting them on fire, and then doing the hula around them in an attempt to make him laugh.

Sometimes I get a smirk.
Or a chuckle.
Tonight I got a nod. What's with THAT? A nod?!? (It was a good joke, too.)

I don't think it's him, though, because I usually get groans, sometimes snorts, from the boys when I try to make them laugh. But they do laugh - heck, Zorak can make the boys laugh so hard they cry, just by dancing Miss Emily atop the back of the couch. Maybe it's a guy thing?

Anyhow, hilarity aside, the foyer is done. Bullnose beading, arch, paint, outlets, booblights (thanks for that - it's the perfect name). *sigh* It's lovely. And we bought batteries for the camera! But now I have to clean the kitchen again (because, you know, we've eaten since I cleaned it last, and you can see it from the foyer). We're closing in on this thing, and the better it looks, the worse the remaining parts look. For instance, the front door, the Icon Closet, and the basement door look downright hid-e-ous now. It's funny. In a sleep-deprived, inhaled paint fumes kind of way.

Back 40 has been mowed, back yard has been fertilized, and the fire ant mounds have been eradicated. What more could a girl ask for?

Well, since you asked... (OK, since I asked, but this is a lot like talking to myself, so I'll just run with that)

The beautiful foyer now needs a rustic old bench. I doubt our chances of finding "the one" are good out here - antiques here run to a different era - but perhaps when we trek to New Mexico again we'll be able to find one there. We don't want one that stands guard at the door, thus creating a checkpoint of sorts (the arch remedied that - no sense in bringing in something else to do the job). We'd like to get one that says, "Come on in, take your coat off and stay a while!" - in English or Spanish, we're not picky.

The living room is begging for an entertainment center - something with doors, perhaps. But definitely something other than the Altar to Heat and Media which we have currently. I'll have to post a picture of it - a pretty grandiose set up for folks who only use rabbit ears.

Um, let's see... oh, curtains! We are nearing the need for curtains! Actually, I'm sure if we had neighbors who could see in, they'd say we're past that point. However, it is time to do away with the Blackout Curtain method of window dressing and start thinking in terms of aesthetics rather than insulation alone. I feel giddy!

The boys are still on their checklist kick, and I'm keeping up pretty well. It's amazing what we do get done each day, using this method! Miss Emily has developed an eczema-like rash on her cheeks. It looks awful, but it doesn't seem to bother her at all. It just appeared yesterday, so I figure I'll give it a few days before I start slathering her with stuff. She has finally sprouted enough that the 0-3 clothes just can't be made to work anymore. *sniff* Suddenly the 3-6mos. clothing looks so BIG! Time is going to fly way too quickly, isn't it? Well, we'll just have to make sure we enjoy it more, then!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Learning Curve?

Yesterday, on Learning With Zorak, Root Mean Square, also known as "RMS".

He's so funny, because he really enjoys this stuff. I'm just learning it so I don't electrocute myself. The theory is fascinating and such, but I mostly sit through it because (a) it makes him happy to explain it to me, and (b) I hope at the end of the physics or electrical lesson, there will be a "how not to kill yourself" blurb. The boys are so set for science!

We made itty bitty steps yesterday, but there were a lot of them, so that's good. There are three fewer extension cords running down the hall. Big yay! The BBQ grill is hooked up to its very own outdoor outlet, sealed and done to code. YAY! The kitchen... well, it was spotless and ready for photos. But then we ate. And the batteries are dead on the camera. So. Will try again after a quick run to the store for batteries. The foyer is textured! The windows are ready for priming! The utility closet has its own functioning outlet!

It rained and rained yesterday, and it was heavenly. It was chilly and windy, and the only reason I didn't have every window open and every child swathed in wool was the actual pounding rain that might come in. So we bundled up and sat on the porch. The boys played in it and got decadently muddy. The dog didn't think much of the rain until the boys were out there - I think he would play outside in raining sulphur, as long as his boys were there with him. He is such a good dog.

Still not too bright sometimes, though. I stepped out onto the back porch in the afternoon - I had showered and changed clothes. And I had my hair pulled back. The dog FREAKED. Then I spoke to him, and you could see the light go on over his little head. "Oh! It's you! Wow, didn't recognize you for a second. Hey, you did something different with your hair... I'm, uh, not sure I like it." Goofy dog. But a good dog, and it's nice to know he's so protective.

This morning it's off to take advantage of the wonderful rain and spread more weed 'n feed in the rest of the yard. Then we plan to be quite handy the rest of the day - a little schooling, a little working, and some baseball in the mud.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy