Twisted Yarns & Tall Tails

Can it be August already? Yikes!

2005-08-01T23:05:00.000-04:00

The first of August - and the cucumbers are really coming in. We've been eating cucumber salad nearly every day. Yesterday I made some Gazpacho - more cucumbers - and have been handing the extras out to friends and neighbors. It's really wonderful that they are so prolific, but my fridge is getting full! The Gazpacho turned out really well if I do say so myself. I made it really chunky, full of cukes, tomatoes, red onion, garlic, basil, ripe olives, carrots, yellow bell pepper, celery, scallions, a little tomato paste, V-8 juice, ground pepper, olive oil and a mixture of vinegars. Plus a dash of worcestershire sauce. I could live on that in the summer.

The next biggy will be the tomatoes. Already we are eating the cherry ones, and a few of the larger ones. Better Boys, I think. Two went into the Gazpacho along with some I bought at a produce market. I'm hoping for a big harvest of the tomatoes so that I can make some tomato relish and perhaps some canned tomatoes.

Meanwhile Ming, our new kitten, is adjusting well to life in our household. The other cats are slowly adjusting to her being here. A few half-hearted attempts at playing, but for the most part they're being old poops. She's remarkably resiliant to their rebuffs. Doesn't seem to get her feelings hurt, and is very brave at taking a few swats of her own. She's turning into a real retriever with her toys. Likes to have us throw them, then brings them back again. It's one of the traits of the Tonkinese, along with shoulder riding, being very social and being very vocal. They're called the cats for dog people, and I have to say it's true.

The History of Cold Saturday Farm

2005-07-29T00:03:00.000-04:00

This evening I met a woman named Alice. As it turns out, she has some personal history with Cold Saturday Farm, the property across the road. In 1932 her mother and father and their three children were living in Baltimore, where they had moved from New York City. Alice's mother always wanted to live on a farm, and on weekends she had her husband drive them into the country to look for farms. Apparently they drove down Rt. 91 through Finksburg, and she noticed a grove of evergreens off the road. She rightly guessed that there was a house back there. They drove in, found the house, and inquired whether it might be for sale.

They ended up buying the farm - all 330 acres - for $33,000. This was during the depression, in 1932. At the time, the farm was called Clover Hill Farm. The beautiful old stone house was built in 1765. There was also a smaller stone house, a barn, and several out buildings. Alice's mother went to Annapolis to research the property, and found that the original name had been Cold Saturday Farm, so named because when it was originally surveyed, it was noted that it had been a cold Saturday in January. She reverted the name of the farm back to Cold Saturday Farm, and so it has been ever since.

They raised cattle and had horses. In 1939, a terrible arson fire destroyed the barn and all twelve of their riding horses, draft work horses, and the children's ponies. The herdsman, who lived in the smaller stone house, saw that the barn was on fire and was able to open the gates and let out the cattle, but none of the horses were able to be rescued. Tragically, they all perished inside their stalls.

The farm remained in the family until 1976, when her mother sold all but 75 acres - saving 25 acres for each of her children. Sadly, the new owners neglected the property. It became very run down until it was sold again in 1985 to a Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean restored Cold Saturday Farm and still owns the property today. In order to afford the restorations, Mr. Bean sold off large portions of the farm to developers, including the land where our house sits today.

After she was married, Alice and her family moved several times while her husband served in the military, until finally settling near Washington, D.C. Alice had her own career as an anesthesiologist. She ended up in medicine after she took a required science course in biology and found that she loved it. Prior to settling on medicine she had started out in college with a major in English, then art history.

About 6 months ago, Alice moved back to Finksburg where she and her daughter now live on the remaining 75 acres of the original farm. As it turned out, her siblings settled in different areas, so Alice bought their 25-acre shares from them. I recently posted a blog describing the walk Jim and I took through that property, and posted some of the photos I took that day. I would like Alice to come over to see them. We'll have tea, I think. I'm sure she would enjoy seeing how lovely the property is today. I'm so delighted to live within walking distance of this beautiful place.

Old Stone Farmhouse, built in 1765.

Smaller stone house where the herdsman lived.

Horse looking out of the barn.

One of the horses boarded at the farm.

Fencing overlooking stream and bridge.

Log house used for bath house in summer, skating house in winter.

Another view of the log house. It was moved from another place and completely reassembled on site, board by board.

One of the old barns.

Farm pond.

Geese swimming on a stream. Beautiful bridge over the stream.

The Throes of Summer ...

2005-07-27T22:41:00.000-04:00

Like most of the country, it's been miserably hot here lately. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a little cooler and we can venture outside without immediately wilting. A thunderstorm blew through late this afternoon, and it was interesting to see the temperature drop 20° in a matter of minutes. Gave us an opportunity to poke around in the garden after the storm and harvest a few cucumbers and cherry tomatoes. I was rather depressed to check out the flowers. We have two potted double hibiscus trees that have been in great shape until now. Each pot is actually three bushes braided together. One has the trunks of three different colored bushes, resulting in a bush with peach, red, and yellow flowers. It's lovely. The other is all peach. I noticed that the peach one has had an alarming number of leaves stripped off by the squirrels. I know it's them because I've caught them in the act many times and chased them away. They shimmy up the trunks, pick off the leaves, then run away with a leaf in their mouth. They sit up on the hill out of reach, blissfully chomping away. Must be a delicacy for them, given how few leaves are remaining. Unfortunately, the hibiscus branches aren't strong enough to support squirrels, and I've found several broken off under the weight of the thieving rodents. That's even worse than losing leaves, which may grow back.

The rest of the flower beds and pots really need some attention. I usually go out every day and tend to deadheading the flowers, watering the pots, and pulling up weeds. Well, things are looking pretty scruffy out there now. No way am I going to tend the garden when the temperature is in the mid-nineties, and it shows. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to catch up a little. I hope so. Damn this global warming.

Sharing Daddy's Lap

2005-07-26T23:03:00.000-04:00

After a few days of hisses, growls, and bad tempers, Paddle has begrudgingly accepted little Ming Toy. Ming was brave tonight and jumped up onto Jim's lap while Paddle was lying there. At least Paddle didn't chase her away. Progress! The other two have yet to be civil to the new kitten, and it's really sad. She wants to play in the worst way. It may take a few more days before everybody starts napping together in a pussy pile.

Ming is proving to be a very sweet little cat. She's well behaved, mostly, and very affectionate. Big eyes take everything in as she figures out where she fits in. Good appetite, uses her litter box, plays with various toys, although she doesn't put them away yet. Doesn't quite have the retrieval concept down, but I think she'll catch on soon. All in all, she's great fun. Now if only the boys would quit the macho attitude...

Welcome to our Family!!!

2005-07-23T18:19:00.000-04:00

We have a new family member! We're back to 4 Tonks with the addition of a new Natural Mink Tonkinese to our household. After a flurry of kitten power talks and emails with a breeder in Virginia, we made trip to "adopt" this little five-month old kitten on Thursday. Today is her 5th month birthday. She's just adorable, very brave, and very affectionate. I'm just thrilled with her. She was spayed a week ago and had her stitches out on Wednesday.

Natural Mink is what my Ping was, our cat who died last year on September 11th. I loved her very much. She was unique, one of a kind, and irreplaceable. I'm not trying to replace Ping, truly. I loved Ping's coloring and her mink-like coat. The Natural Mink is fairly rare and darkens as the cat ages until it's a deep sable with brown-black points. I also loved the time when our Tonks were kittens, and wanted to capture that fun time again.

And so we have! Our new kitten is named Catdancing Ming Toy. (Catdancing is the name of the cattery.) I call her Ming or Toy. Hubby calls her Shitsky, but just to push my buttons. He claims since she came from Warsaw, (Virginia) she's Polish, ergo the name Shitsky. The other Tonks call her An Intruder. They are Not Pleased. They have been shooting her dirty looks and giving her a hiss when they see her, complaining in low growls. She's being respectful of her elders, keeping her distance, but not hiding from them. Today we had a game of "catch the birdie" with a feather toy between Paddle, Pong, and Toy. Pretty soon the animosities from Pong and Paddle diminished and they were all jumping after the "bird." I think they will all be bonded in a few days. But for now, they just wish she'd go home.

Meanwhile, I was advised by the breeder that we should sleep with her for the first three nights. This is to assure that she bonds with us instead of the cats. Well, it hasn't worked out quite that way. I have spent the past two nights with Toy in the spare bedroom, while my husband has remained in our bedroom. He decided years ago that the cats had to sleep outside our bedroom so that he can get a good night's sleep. That's fine with me. After 2 night's, I'm feeling somewhat sleep-deprived. Toy is a kitten, after all, and feet under a sheet are meant to be pounced on. Regardless of my husband's refusal to sleep with her, she is bonding to him as well, jumping up on his lap and rolling over for a belly rub.

Lots of fun times ahead. I'm really happy.

Itchy Bum? NO! Ichiban!

2005-07-17T23:46:00.000-04:00

Several years ago, we received a gift from one of our family members. It was a beautiful handmade pottery vase, a low dish with three short, upright tubes. We were told it was an Ichiban, a Japanese flower designing vessel. The tubes were open at the bottom to allow the stems to uptake water. Well, recently we had a visit from this family member. She found the Ichiban in the bathroom, serving as a catch-all for a candle, matches, and hair clips.

Ah, the humiliation. We were given a stern lecture regarding the proper usage of an Ichiban, its history and its purpose. An Ichican is a feng shui-type pottery vessel, designed to support the stems of flowers and sprigs of greenery in a simple, vertical arrangement. It's all about maintaining different heights of the selected vegetation in a pleasing arrangement. The still water in the bottom is also very feng shui, transmitting positive chi, tranquility, calmness, and peacefulness to the household.

Ever since the visit, I've been maintaining our Ichiban, changing the water and the flowers faithfully, and I've come to love it. I use flowers from our garden and sprigs from the surrounding shrubs and trees. Here's my latest arrangement, which I think is quite lovely.

Pastoral Walk Thru Finksburg

2005-07-15T22:23:00.000-04:00

I think my muse must have been off on vacation for the past week or so. Happily, it's back again and I can post. I've missed my blog! It's time to get back into writing.

I want to start by describing and showing a walk we took around our neighborhood at the beginning of the week. Luckily I had the forethought to bring my camera with me. I'm so glad I did, because there were some beautiful photos for the taking. I can't get over how beautiful the scenery is here. Within walking distance of our home there is a very old, beautiful horse farm, streams and and several ponds. We saw a gaggle of geese (I've never used that word in a sentence before!) who were swimming in the brook, then trooped out and marched across a lawn.

The greens of the vegetation were wonderful, reminding me of the 40 shades of green in Ireland.

Here's a burro who came up to the fence for a pet.

I love the old weathered barns.

The following photos are just beauty that speaks for itself.

I can't believe how fortunate we are to live in such a beautiful area!

Finished!

2005-07-09T22:30:00.000-04:00

Just finished reading the book for our book club Monday. The Amateur Marriage. When we learned what the next book would be last month, I realized I had already read it. Anne Tyler is a favorite author of mine and I've read most, if not all, of her books. Anyway, decided I'd better leaf through it again to "refresh my memory" before Monday. I remembered how the story started, but couldn't recall much except that the main characters met on Pearl Harbor Day and he went off to war. After that I couldn't remember anything else. So I checked it out again from the library and started rereading it. Come to find out, I had only read the first 50 pages or so the first time around! Yikes! Only three days to read the whole book.

Well, it was a great book, so it was easy to get through it in just a couple of days. Lucky for me. I highly recommend it.

Beetle Invasion!

2005-06-29T14:54:00.000-04:00

We've been invaded! Our whole property is swarming with Japanese Beetles. Seriously! Yesterday we were standing in the yard and someone noticed that there were a lot of "bees" hovering over the grass and around the plants. I knew they weren't bees, but at first look thought they were some sort of flies. Didn't pay much attention until I went out this morning and discovered that all the flowers, plants and trees were covered with Japanese Beetles, horny little buggers mating in clusters of insect frenzy.

I absolutely loathe those nasties. They play havoc with vegetation and can ruin trees and ornamentals. My favorite flower is the rose, but I have purposely avoided planting any in my east coast yard, knowing that Japanese Beetles are prevalent in this area, and roses are a favorite food of the beetles.

We put out a beetle trap, and they are so dumb it actually works, but I know that's not going to make much of an impact. I also captured some in a coffee can with water in the bottom, and probably succeeded in eliminating a total of a few hundred in just a few minutes, but soon gave up the effort. There are easily a million flying around and I was just frustrating myself trying to get rid of them. It's like sticking your finger in a dike to hold back the sea.

It's always something. Last year was the 17-year cicada emergence. I know it's all part of the natural cycle of life, I just wish they'd leave us alone. I really don't want to resort to any chemical pesticides, so we're probably stuck with them.

Bummer!

Fairy Lights

2005-06-26T22:26:00.000-04:00

It was lovely outside tonight, just before dusk. The clouds were pink cotton candy in the dwindling light before sunset, and the fireflies were blinking all over the lawn. I watched for a few minutes, trying to decode their signals. It seemed that they would all blink at once, then for a few seconds, the blinking stopped. The males flash to attract a female, and if she's interested, the female will blink back to let him know where she's hiding. This little game will go on until they finally meet and have a go at it.

Here's an interesting little tidbit. Some females from different species have evolved the ability to mimic other firefly females, thus luring the horny males for dinner - but unknown to them, they're the main course! Here's the official skinny:

"The male firefly of the species Photinus pyralis, beams a single half-flash during a forward rising flight movement. It looks like the letter "J." The female responds with a single flash. Another species, Photinus consumilis, signals his mate with a rapid succession of flashes. She responds with two beams. In general, males will not fly down to a female that sends the wrong species signal. But, some females of differing species have evolved the ability to mimic the response flashes of species other than their own. As the male flies down to a mimicking female, he is captured and eaten, gulp!"

How 'Bout a Little Rain Over Here?

2005-06-24T14:22:00.000-04:00

We have a well on our property, and Jim is convinced I'm draining it dry. I've been babying the various flowers and plants in our gardens to keep them going during the current dry spell we're having. Every day I go out and hand water all the patio pots and hanging baskets. A few days ago I dragged a hose to one of the larger gardens and set up an oscillating sprinkler to drench the shrubs and flowers. For whatever reason, we have very low water pressure from the hose bibs, and instead of the ten-to-fifteen foot arc of spray I anticipated, all I got was a little dribble about 15 inches high. I can deal with that - just water longer and keep moving the sprinkler head. When I went out after a half hour or so, I found that the sprinkler had blown it's cork, so to speak, and water was just running out in a stream. Sigh.

We have another sprinkler head. This one is a ring about 8 inches in diameter with holes poked all over it. I figured this one might spray up a few feet into the air, so if I placed it in the middle of the tomato plant and veggie garden, it would water the whole plot at once. I put the ring squarely in the middle, turned on the water full blast, and held my breath. It squirted out this mini-water fountain about 6 inches high. All in all, this little garden patch is no more than 8'x10', and I had to move the sprinkler six times before it soaked all the plants.

Low water pressure is just a small downside of country life. Maybe the only one I'll have to learn to live with, and if so, it's no real biggie. On the plus side, no water bill!

Mr. Vagabond

2005-06-18T21:54:00.000-04:00

Pong, one of our three Tonkinese, has become more and more of an outdoor cat. Although none of the three are allowed outside after dark, Pong is outside all day long, returning only briefly a few times during the day to grab a snack, then he's off again. The other two Tonks are much more home bodies. Pong has this really loud, annoying meow and is unrelenting when he wants to go out. Our job is to open the door. We have no idea where he spends all his time - at the neighbors, in the woods, patrolling the property. Who knows. He does take his moling duties very seriously.

First thing he does when he goes outside is to roll around on the patio. When he finally does come inside, he's all dusty and dirty, with flecks of grit and grime and debris on his fur. I'm not happy about that.

Until the past year or so of being outside as he pleases, Pong was an indoor cat. A real slug, eating and sleeping most of the day away, and that's about it. Normal kitty behavior. At 14 pounds, according to the vet, he was on the verge of obesity. Now he's slimmed down, no more paunch, and looks fit and trim.

I wonder if he naps outside, and if so, where does he sleep? Occasionally we see him stretched out on a lounge chair on the porch of Le Shed, but not too often. I somehow can't imagine him curling up for a snooze on a bed of leaves.

Jim thinks maybe he has a girlfriend. He's been "fixed" since he was a few months old, so we don't worry that he's increasing the feline population of the county. So if he is fooling around, he's just shooting blanks.

I don't have the heart to tell him.

Sponges - The Latest in Schnoz Protection

2005-06-14T20:14:00.000-04:00

Here's an interesting little tidbit from the Proceedings of the National Academy of Science. It seems that dolphins around Shark Bay, Western Australia have been observed tearing sponges from the sea floor to use as snout armor when foraging for food. Apparently poking their bazoos into crevices and along the sandy bottom results in scrapes and scuffs and stings from various nasties. Some of the dolphins, mostly the females, have found that wearing a sponge is a good thing, like gardeners wearing gloves. The young ones, who spend up to four years with their moms before weaning, learn to sponge by watching mom, and it gets passed down the family line. This is huge, since animals using tools is a relatively rare thing, behavior that is usually limited to humans and other primates.

What I found especially amusing is that it's just the females who have figured out this sponge idea. The males must think it's sissy behavior, so they continue getting bruised and stung. Apparently they'd rather be macho and spend their time checking out the gals.

A quote from the article says: "Only one male was observed using a sponge. (Michael) Kruetzen noted that, as adults, male and female dolphins have very different lifestyles.

Adult males form small groups of two or three individuals that chase females in reproductive condition, he explained. `I would think that they do not have time to engage in such a time-consuming foraging activity as adults, as they are busy herding females.'"

Hmm. Now why does this sound so familiar?

Have You Hugged Your Rhody Today?

2005-06-08T23:32:00.000-04:00

I read something today that I found very interesting. Great article. According to a study at Rutgers University, we humans have an emotional attachment to flowers. "Our hypothesis is that flowers are exploiting an emotional niche. They make us happy," McGuire says. "Because they are a source of pleasure, a positive emotion inducer, we take care of them. In that sense they're like dogs. They are the pets of the plant world."

I really like that analogy - pets of the plant world. I get it. Tending to the garden is like taking care of pets - we feed them, water them, protect them, and give them lots of love and TLC, and they reward us by looking adorable.

And then eventually, of course, they up and die on us.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

2005-06-06T22:10:00.000-04:00

My heart rate got an unexpected jumpstart this morning. I was on the phone, looking out onto the patio, when suddenly I spied a small, black head peeking over the stone wall. This was followed by a long, slithery black body that kept coming, and coming, and coming, until it reached the patio and rose up the side of a large planter, its little tongue zipping in and out of its mouth. SNAKE!!

Oh. My. God! Once I picked my jaw up off the floor, I hung up the phone to go outside to tell Jim what was going on. He was saddling up the mower by Le Shed. Before I could get to the door, the phone rang again.

It was a call for Jim, so out I went with the phone and the news of the patio intruder. He took the phone and calmly began his call while watching the unfolding of this unending snake. It was a good 6 to 8 feet long. Unbelievable! After a minute or so, he slithered himself back up and over the patio wall into a bed of day lilies. Well, that's just great. This freaked me out even more, him being out of sight, because I know He’s Out There. I’ll never be able to walk barefoot through the yard again with the same feeling of abandon. If only it hadn’t been so BIG and so BLACK and so GHASTLY. Now, I’m a reasonable person. Garter snakes are reasonable snakes, but this one? Nightmare material.

Jim says he hates snakes, but for some reason he likes this one, which is apparently a Black Rat Snake. I somehow thought Jim would be my protector and take it on. But no, he considers it “beneficial” because it feeds on mice and moles and other small rodents. Hmpf. I’m rather partial to our little chipmunks and squirrels and mousies, and hate to think of them ending up anybody’s dinner, especially a nasty-ass snake's. After all, the little hoo haa's are only here because we feed the birds, and in return they entertain us with their acrobatic antics. So now they’ll think we’re just fattening them up for the chow line.

Well, you've heard it before - Nature is a cruel Mother.

Tonkinese Food Critics

2005-06-04T21:58:00.000-04:00

Well, it’s happened again. My cooking has been critiqued by one of the cats, and found to be inedible.

It’s like this. Every evening, as Jim and I sit down to dinner, one or more of the Tonks will sit patiently on the floor between us, looking for a taste of what’s for dinner. Sometimes they are patient, as I said, but occasionally they start clammering non-stop in high-pitched Tonkinese if we ignore them and simply try to eat our dinners.

Tonight Paddle was the only beggar, the other two still outside on mole patrole. I had prepared, from scratch I’ll have you know, a nice dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, mixed green salad and rolls. I thought it was lovely, could rival any nice Italian restaurant’s fare. Jim and I started eating, and Paddle began non-stop meowing, determined to know what we were eating. Now, just so you don’t think they beg because we deny our cats enough to eat, rest assured, they always have plenty of food in their bowl. It’s premium quality dry cat food, and whenever the bowl is near empty, we refill it. So they’re never starving, no matter that they might tell you otherwise.

I confess that even though they have their own food, we do give them bites from our plates to let them feel included in the evening meal - meat, chicken, fish, whatever. They have us well trained. We feel guilty when it’s vegetarian or pizza, since they don't like those things. Anyway, Jim obediently cut a piece of meatball for Paddle, sucked off the offending sauce, which he knows she won’t eat, and presented her with a nice, bitesized tidbit.

Here’s where it gets ugly. She gave the meatball a cursory sniff, turned tail and walked away. And Paddle is a little pig, who will eat lots of stuff that makes the others turn up their noses. Do you know what it feels like to have your cooking rejected by a cat? I suppose I should be grateful that I didn’t get their topmost rejection - which I have on many occasions - the leg shake as she walked away. If it’s something they think is gross, I get the 2-legged shimmy, or if it's really gross, an all 4-legged waggle. I kid you not! They turn tail, walk/run away, shaking their feet as if to rid themselves off even the smell of whatever revolting food I have served for dinner, prancing away in a kind of kitty jig.

There's more - the ultimate insult they offer. If they don’t like the smell of what we’re eating, they will try to “bury” it, right in front of me, pawing at the floor and covering the offending food with imaginery dirt.

Now, I have to assume, since they really are very smart cats, that this burying tactic is mime play-acting. They don’t really think there is any dirt there, they’re just saying, “Phew - this stuff belongs in the litter box. Better cover it up before it stinks up the whole house.”

So all I can say is, at least Jim will eat it.

Cat Napping

2005-05-31T23:48:00.000-04:00

This is Paddle, our smallest Tonkinese. She's our little whiner, otherwise known as Paddle One Note. She's made herself a kitty nest by disemboweling the stuffing from a pillow I was in the process of sewing back together. I wanted to wash the cover, and had to cut the stitching to remove the stuffing.

Yesterday after its washing, I stuffed the pillow back together, leaned it against the couch and left it until I found time to sew it. Paddle thought this was a great find, and pulled out all the innards to make herself a bed. I cleaned up her mess, re-stuffed the pillow, and this time hid it behind the couch. Well, as you can see, she found it again and "rearranged" the stuffing to suit herself. Now how can I be mad at her? She is kind of cute.

The next picture is one of the boys, Pong and Ball. Although Ball is smaller than Pong by nearly half, he's our alpha male and creates trouble whenever he can by pouncing and instigating a wrestling match. Pong just gets disgusted, ignores him and grumbles a lot.

At the end of the day, all is forgiven, and they share a soft place to sleep, using each other for pillows.

Bragging Rights

2005-05-30T23:20:00.000-04:00

I'm not usually too much of a gardener. I try, but I'm not very consistent. Well, I'm turning over a new leaf, and this weekend I outdid myself with the mowing, weeding, planting, weedwacking, and general cleanup. Jim was busy all weekend working on rebuilding our waterfall and finishing up the deck he and his son are building at David's house. The yard looks really great, and I'm glad I stuck with it, even though it about did me in. As a reward, I decided to cut a bouquet of the irises for the table. They are just gorgeous, perhaps because of all the rain we had this spring. This is the first time I've ever had irises in my yard, and I can see why they are so loved by gardeners. I really hope they will last for a while.

This handmade infant's dress and hat was crocheted by my young friend K as a shower gift for her co-worker. It took her many hours, and the result is this exquisite, intricately handcrafted future heirloom. K has made a number of these sets for other friends and family members who were having babies. She always dresses a bear in the dress and hat as part of the gift. Lucky moms, lucky babies!

Is There a Doctor in the House?

2005-05-29T16:59:00.000-04:00

Last night I had, once again, an anxiety dream. I have these a lot. Mine are usually in the form of being back in school. I have to take an exam, I'm late, haven't studied or studied the wrong thing, can't find the right room, etc. etc. Sometimes it's the first day of class and I can't find the classroom I'm supposed to be in. Or it's the day of the final exam, and I realize I never went to any of the classes. I'm forever getting lost in a strange building and the clock is ticking. I have these kinds of dreams so often that I don't get as freaked out as I used to. It's kind of, well, here we go again, time for my final exam and I can't find the classroom.

I think my psyche is catching on, and has decided I haven't been sufficiently stressed and traumatized lately. It's begun to raise the bar on the stress level. Kick it up a notch. So last night, I'm back again, first day of classes, only this time I'm in Harvard Medical School as a first year med student. I have all these weird classes to take, in strange buildings with complex, winding corridors, and I'm lost in a sea of really brainy people. Once again, can't get where I'm supposed to be, I'm late, and separated from the person I rode with so I won't be able to get home. I have my hands full of things, nowhere to put them, and I keep dropping everything. I have to climb over people to get to find a seat.

The irony of this particular dream is that I'm the last person who should ever become a doctor. I can't stand the sight of blood. I can't even watch someone getting a shot. I'm definitely not the person you want in charge when there's an emergency. Even the thought of someone being injured or in pain makes me woozy. I admit it - I'm a fainter. The first time was when I stabbed my palm with a kitchen knife while trying to separate frozen hamburgers. It was a deep puncture wound, and it didn't bleed, which bothered me more so than if it had bled. Ended up in a heap on the floor and had to crawl the rest of the way to the bathroom. The next was when my husband was putting eye drops put in my eye. I was getting more and more nervous and after several unsuccessful tries, totally passed out. He had to carry me, unconscious, to the couch.

The real kicker was one day when I took my pre-teen step-daughter to the Emergency Room. She had a really awful sore throat and couldn't swallow. She was miserable and in terrible pain. We were told to wait. I remember walking down the corridor, feeling light-headed, and knew what was coming next. Saw a bench further down, and headed towards it, the corridor closing in on me. I barely made it. Just then a passing doctor saw what was going on and came over to help me. Had me put my head between my knees. When he determined that I was coming around and my color was returning, he said, "Now, who brought you in?"

How embarrassing.

"Mow Town"

2005-05-26T23:09:00.000-04:00

After several days of cool, rainy weather, today started off with sunshine and brilliant blue skies. I still get excited about clear morning skies here in Maryland, after living through 17 years of "May Gray" and "June Gloom" in San Diego. As nice as San Diego weather can be, for two to three months of the year, San Diegans endure gray, overcast skies until late morning or even into early afternoon - the result of fog banks and mist rolling in over the city from the ocean. Eventually the sun breaks through the fog and sunshine prevails for the remainder of the day. But San Diego mornings are gloomy. We've been living here almost two years now, and morning sunshine in spring is just another reason to love our new abode.

I decided to take advantage of the mild weather to saddle up the John Deere. We live on two acres, much of it grass. Since I learned how to operate the riding mower, I'm usually the primary mower. I enjoy the zen of mowing, even though it still takes 3+ hours to complete the job. The front lawn is a wide open hill, then interspersed with young trees, then maneuvers between huge hardwoods and gardens, around the house, and finally beside the veggie garden and patio.

I use the time alone on the mower to enjoy the scenery, the birds, the cloud patterns, and especially the wonderful, fresh smell of newly cut grass. It's a great time to let my mind wander, make plans, or organize my thoughts. There's usually a lot of chatter going on in there - songs, conversations, lists, you name it - to keep me entertained, so I'm never bored. After living in urban areas nearly all my life, I find living in an open, rural environment very peaceful. Should have moved to the country long ago.

Where's my Spaghetti Strainer?

2005-05-24T23:34:00.000-04:00

Ok, I think I've seen way too much TV. I woke up this morning after a dream in which I was giving Michael Jackson hair styling advice. There he was, standing next to his limo, getting ready for another televised entrance into the courthouse. He was combing his hair, and I was advising him about blowing it dry to avoid excesss curl. What's up with that? All this news coverage of the trial has seeped into my subconscious and I can't get away from it, even in my own bed at night. Enough already! Maybe all those weirdos who wear aluminum foil reflector caps on their heads aren't so crazy after all.

Playdate with Mr. Mole

2005-05-22T19:51:00.000-04:00

This afternoon I arrived home after some shopping and saw Pong napping on the patio glider. He was glad to see me 'cause he wanted his afternoon snack. I busied myself traipsing in and out, putting things away, and was shutting the back door when I spied Pong running up the step with a LIVE MOLE in his mouth. I yelled "NO!" but he darted right past me INTO THE HOUSE, mole and all. I yelled again "NO, NO!" but as my friend would say, it was a waste of spit. He was thrilled, ran behind the recliner and let the mole go. Of course, the mole ran, which is exactly what Pong wanted, and the pounce and run game was on.

The other two Tonks thought this was a great idea. All of them were thrilled with the new arrival. The mole ran under a pillow sitting on the floor, the cats pawing away and sniffing. Well, some felines these guys turned out to be. There they were trying to get at the mole, and unbeknown to them, he had already slipped past them, ran along the wall, behind the entertainment unit, across the carpet, in front of the fireplace and behind the drapes. Terrific. Now I have to catch the damned mole myself! Lame, useless pusseycats, still pawing away at the pillow.

Grabbed the closest thing, some wrapping paper tissue from one of my purchases and tried to pick the mole up. Yikes, what if he bites? And he's rabid? I let go of him and he ran behind the bookcase. Swell. Now what? Can't do anything alone, so I'll have to wait until Jim gets home. Figured the mole would probably stay put, and the cats had already gotten bored with pillow pawing.

Well, I didn't have to wait long. Jim arrived, and I explained the whole predicament. He looked slightly amused, and rather proud of the brat cat's hunting prowess. I told him the mole was behind the bookcase, but he was doubtful. The plan was to unload the bookcase, move it away from the wall, and shack him out if he was there. Jim thought it might be easier to get Pong to catch him than one of us. I doubted it, considering their ineptness earlier, but didn't want to argue about it. Opened the door to get Pong back in the house, but Ball came inside instead. Well, Ball's a cat too, so I deposited him behind the bookcase to do his thing. No whisker twitching, no interest. He walked away. So much for Ball's hunting instincts. Picked him up, kicking and screaming, and put him behind the bookcase again. He ran away. Well, we tipped the bookcase up, and sure enough, there was the poor mole, hunkered down and looking rather pathetic. Since Jim was the one holding the bookcase, it fell to me to be the mole catcher. I donned a pair of heavy leather gloves, scooped up Mr. Mole and carried him to the front door. Jim open it, and I set my little rodent down between the bushes. He just laid there, kinda stunned, I guess. I gave him a little nudge, and he scampered off, free to fight another day.

Pong is on my list.

Here's the tribe in napping mode.

Buggy Booster

2005-05-21T21:08:00.000-04:00

What a gorgeous day. I decided today would be a great day to get a few tomato plants. Jim had amended and rototilled our garden patch a week or so ago, and it was in perfect shape for a garden. The location is also perfect - a southern exposure that gets sun all day, and the watering hose is nearby.

So it was on to Lowe's to check out their Garden Department. I was a little apprehensive about what I might find there, since I had stopped in a couple of weeks ago and the selection was rather pathetic. I could tell as soon as I drove up that today was a good day for buying plants. Lots of color and variety and selection. Super! Suddenly I needed a lot more than just tomato plants. No carts available, so I followed an elderly lady to her car, relieved her of her empty cart, and entered the garden store. Along with a couple hundred or so other flower shoppers.

Happily made my selections of tomatoes, sweet peppers, cucumbers, marigolds, petunias, and my favorite - a cute little succulent called Hen and Chicks. Spent a lot of time fastidiously selecting each pot, making sure I got the best of each. With all the shopping cart traffic, it was easier to pull the cart out of the way and bring my selections to it rather than maneuvering around bent over behinds and baby strollers. Made a last stop for some blueberry bushes (on sale!) and returned to my cart. Or rather to where I THOUGHT it was. No cart. Must have forgotten where I left it. Started walking up and down the aisles searching for my wayward cart, then doubled back again. After tramping through the whole department, it became evident that the cart had been spirited away by some absent minded fool who thought it was theirs. Started an in-depth search, poking my nose into every cart in the store. Nobody had my stuff.

Now I was seething. Get another cart. Back to square one. So what the heck had I spent the better part of an hour choosing? Well, by the time I figured out what plants I wanted - AGAIN - and was about to get into line for the register, THERE THEY WERE! All my plants, everything I had lovingly chosen, scrunched together on a marigold shelf. Can you believe it? Somebody just wheeled away my cart, and when they discovered it wasn't theirs, instead of taking out their own stuff, dumped out MY stuff. Jeez Louise! What a nasty little trick. I hope their tomatoes give them heartburn.

A Phobia is Born

2005-05-20T12:57:00.000-04:00

Did you watch the 2-hour finale of CSI last night? Woof! I usually watch these things rather passively, since I've become a bit jaded with all the gore and graphic realism portrayed in these types of shows. Ho, hum. I watch with half an eye while paying bills or skimming through a magazine. Well, they sure pushed all my buttons last night. The character Nick was kidnapped and buried alive in a plexaglass coffin by a madman who blew himself up when they delivered the 1 million dollar ransom. WITHOUT first telling Grishom where his guy was buried. Throughout the episode they show Nick inside this plastic box, hardly able to move, all his agonies captured via a web cam feed. His predicament intensifies ten fold once the plastic box develops some cracks from the wieght of the earth on top, and dirt starts trickling in over his feet. More horrors as a colony of fire ants storm in, "eating him alive." They show macro closeups of the biting jaws tearing at pieces of his flesh. Nick does the only thing he can and stuffs pieces of cloth into his nostrils and chewing gum in his ears. Lips and eyes are shut tight in a terrible grimace. He's covered with ants everywhere, especially all over his head. It was truly awful. He gets saved in the end, of course, just as his air supply runs out. Drama, drama. Definitely a nail-biter. The thing that really made me shiver is that in real life, this poor sod was ACTUALLY CRAWLING with those creepy buggers. And he WAS confined in that tight, coffin-sized space, even if it was just a television program. I sure hope he got hazardous duty pay. You couldn't pay me enough to do what he did.

I'm not really scared of the ususal spiders or snakes or heights, within reason, but I do have a real-life phobia of being closed in small spaces. It all stems from a time back in high school when I went on a night time hayride with a bunch of other teens. That part was fun. Afterwards, there was a hay maze we had to crawl through. It was really tight quarters, and there we were in the dark, head to toe, crawling through twists and turns on our bellies. The kids in the front were too slow for some of the ones behind, who were getting scared in this narrow tunnel. Then the idiot in front of me pulled out his Bic lighter and LIT IT. Even now, writing it down, my breathing is rapid. I can see that image in my mind's eye, and feel the panic I felt then. People screamed and he put it out right away, but in that instant, the thought of that whole bank of hay bales catching fire with all of us inside being burned alive left me with a case of claustrophobia that has never gone away. The "what ifs" of that night haunt me even now, nearly four decades later.

Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival

2005-05-11T22:16:00.000-04:00

This past weekend was the long awaited Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. It was really great. So glad I went. I tried to capture the flavor of the event through pictures to post here.

Karakuls Sheep

Yarn Cubbies

Judging Lambs

Beautiful Sweaters

Ready for Shearing

Wraps and Shawls

Dancing on One Foot

Loved the crowds, the colors, the energy, and the beautiful wools and yarns. I'll be goiing again next year!

Watermelon Bowling

2005-05-08T22:18:00.000-04:00

Today was Mother's Day, and it was perfect. The weather was balmy, the sky clear blue, it was gorgeous. Our plans were for a special family picnic at the Triadelphia Reservoir, followed by a little fishing for the guys and the grandkids. Couldn't have been a nicer day. Great food, good company, and a beautiful setting. Everyone had a terrific day.

Well, it didn't start out quite that way. Jim and I were running a little late, but after a few false starts for forgotten bottled water, book, and cell phone, we were off. Only about 15 minutes behind schedule. Not bad. After traveling about 4 miles, I began absently thinking about picking up the KFC on our way, and I realized - "WE FORGOT THE FOOD!"

He: "What food?"
She: "The veggie tray and the watermelon!"

U-turn, 4 miles back to the house, open the garage door, rush inside, open the fridge, retrieve the wholesale club mega-veggies in one hand, the soccer ball sized watermelon in the other hand, and troop back to the truck. Truck door had closed. A third hand would be nice. Since the veggies were more cumbersome, I set the watermelon down, to balance it with my foot while opening the door. Did I mention that we live on a hill? And the watermelon was perfectly round? As I opened the door, it started getting away from me, slowly rolled onto the grass and past a tree. The Newtonian gravity thing started kicking in, it picked up speed, and rolled down the entire length of the driveway, ACROSS the road, into the NEIGHBOR'S driveway, bounced down THEIR lawn, into the swail, and barrelled on down the road. After a few more bumps, it flew up in the air and came smashing down in the middle of the pavement.

Swell. Not only are we late, now we have a smushy red mess of gigantic proportion to clean up. The size of a football field, or so it seemed.

Ah well, at least it was seedless.

Environmentally Correct

2005-05-06T22:01:00.000-04:00

The highlight of our week was a trip to Annapolis, MD. The purpose of the trip was a visit to the Philip Merrill Environmental Center, a "green" building housing the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. Except it's actually better than green - it's the only LEEDS "platinum" building in the U.S. - the epitomy of an environmentally friendly building. The LEEDS (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) designations are green, silver, gold, and platinum. My understanding is that there are only seven buildings throughout the world that have been given the platinum rating. This building was constructed five years ago using recycled materials, with windows galore, solar and geothermal heating, a rainwater cachment system, and COMPOSTING TOILETS! Of course, I had to check those out. There's no flushing, no water. It's rather like an outhouse privy. A sign on the stall door says not to put anything into the toilet that you haven't eaten, except for toilet paper. Hmmmm. It was actually quite refreshing, the breeze flowing up from far below to caress one's bare nether end. After using the facilities, a handful of wood chips from a nearby pail is tossed into the hole and the composting continues. Amazingly enough, there's NO odor. How do they do that?

My opinion is that the building is definitely function over form - it does what it is intended to do, and does it extremely well, but asthetics and architectural appeal are lacking, at least for me. That being said, I was extremely impressed with the efforts that have been made to be environmentally friendly. We could all learn much from this example of less is more. We definitely need to reevaluate our consumption of natural resources in this country, this world. We can do so much better, as they have demonstrated in this exemplary building.

The Center sits on a beautiful site on the Chesapeake Bay:

A great experience, and an inspiration to go home and recycle some cans.

A Day to remember

2005-05-01T23:25:00.000-04:00

What a great Sunday. We drove to Brighton Dam on the Patuxent River, Triadelphia Reservoir for a stroll through the beautiful Azalea Gardens. There are 5 acres of gorgeous azaleas, just about at their peak. All colors, pinks, whites, reds. Totally gorgeous! Here's an example:

This shot is a flowering dogwood tree. I really love this picture:

We tried a little fishing, but today the fish were the only lucky ones.

Another view of the Patuxent River:

A view across the reservoir from the Azalea gardens:

Love this old weatherd stairway up to the picnic area:

After we left Brighton Dam we had a delicious authentic Mexican dinner of Chili Rellanos. A pretty terrific Sunday. If you'd like to see more of my photos, here's my web site. I also uploaded a number of flower and kitty pictures that I like: http://www.flickr.com/photos/59709869@N00/sets/290845/

Ms. Yakkity-Yak

2005-04-28T16:45:00.000-04:00

I was always a pretty good kid. Never got into any real trouble. Kind of shy, still in the generation who feared/respected authority and never mouthed off to adults. Except when I was a teenager, that is, but that's to be expected. I mean I was a pretty normal kid, after all. Not too goody-goody. The only problems my teachers ever had with me was talking in class. And I sure did a lot of that. My report cards bear witness to it.

Well, would you believe after all these years, I got in trouble AGAIN for talking in class? Water aerobics. We had a substitute instructor who's a lot harder on us than our usual trainer, who puts up with lots of yakking and laughing from all of us. Well, I just had a quick message to relay to one of the women, sidled over, got busted, and had to do an additional 10 crunches - after we had just finished 100! "Okay, everyone relax, except for YOU. Another 10 crunches for TALKING!"

Yeesh. Punished! Guess I'll never learn that lesson. Oh well ...

Oh Give Me a Home ...

2005-04-26T21:57:00.000-04:00

...where the buffalo roam. Today in Pikesville, a town down the road a piece from Finksburg, a herd of nine buffalo jumped the fence of their pen and made havoc with the village locals. Seems their owner had decided to ship them off to the slaughterhouse. Well, they must have gotten wind of the plan and decided to high tail it out of Dodge. After trekking down the road about 5 miles, the police/cowboys eventually corralled them inside the tennis court of an apartment complex. Next step was to try to coax the beasties into a trailer truck backed up to the tennis court door. Now, these guys are huge. Apparently they weigh about 2,000 pounds apiece and stand six feet tall, yet they were gracefully leaping over the tennis net like lambs over a style. Definitely didn't want to be corralled, and flattened the improvised lawn chair barricades like they were made of balsa wood. After much hand waviing and jumping jacks, the officers finally managed to corner the herd and they all trooped into the truck. Door slammed. Show over.

Maryland is such fun.

Scared by the Boogey Cat

2005-04-22T09:24:00.000-04:00

We had a visit the other night from the neighbor's cat, Linc. Now, Linc is a pretty big cat, but lots of it is fur. Nonetheless, he's a lot bigger than Ball. Ball was walking by the front door side window and got a shock when he saw this big face in the window looking in. YIKES! Cost him one of his nine lives. Earsplitting cat scream from Ball. And I mean loud. His scream was so loud it sounded like a room full of cats. Huge tail and fur sticking out all over. What a woos. Linc just stood there passively looking in, not at all ruffled by Ball's hysteria. Ball tried growling and hissing and more screaming, and Linc sat there blinking. Linc is a very easy-going cat and comes to visit every now and then, but usually during the day. He stayed at the window and didn't even leave the porch when Jim opened the door. Wouldn't go home til Jim clapped, hollered, and chased him away. Now THAT's an alpha cat.

This is our Ball, who thinks HE's the alpha cat. So what do you think?

Birthday pending

2005-04-19T23:13:00.000-04:00

What a beautiful day it was today. Temperature in the high 80°s. Unreal for spring. It's as if we skipped right into summer. Even the kitties thought it was hot and came inside where it was cool for their afternoon snooze.

My birthday is next week. Last week Jim wanted to know what I would like for a present. Told him I didn't really know. Tried to think of what we needed. All I could come up with was more mulch. Having a birthday in spring lends itself to gardening type gifts. One year it was a small rototiller. Actually very practical. We used it several times last year in our veggie/flower garden and it should be very fertile for this year's crop. The soil here is pretty bad unless you work stuff in. This week he asked again. Said I'd better let him know pretty soon 'cause right now it stands at compost. I'm thinking ...

One Ringy-Dingy, Two Ringy-Dingys ...

2005-04-18T21:50:00.000-04:00

Today we made our final break with California to be totally Marylandized. We've been using our cell phones with California area code and phone numbers for the past two years, much to the confusion of locals who wonder who the heck is calling them from La Jolla. We made a phone-buying date to meet at the local mall, but failed to specify where. My phone rang. Jim.

She: "Where are you? I just came through Boscov's"
He: "I'm over here."
Huh?
She: "Over here? Over where??"
He: "Turn around, behind you."

Mad waving in the distance. It struck me so funny. Telling someone over the phone to look over here. Guess you had to be there. Anyway, on to the Verizon store to pick out spanking new flip-open camera phones. Makes our previous models look prehistoric. Text messaging? I don't think so. Reminds me of passing notes in class. Then on to the paperwork phase of closing out the deal. I've been to escrow closings that took about the same amount of time. Sheesh!

Stopped at Olive Garden on the way home for an early dinner. Haven't been there in quite a while. Have you had the new Stuffed Chicken Marsala? Oh. My. God. It is fantastic. Doubly good to me because I can finally taste again after a week or more of a sinus cold that cut out my sense of smell and taste. Delicious!

Once home, Jim broke out his new phone and started pushing buttons. Long story short, before he had made the first call, the screen froze up and said data corrupted. He called the store and the sales guy said "Uh, oh. Sorry. It's defective, you'll have to bring it in for a replacement."

Well, mine is working. Now on to the instructional CD and 127 page User's Guide.

Blogging on the Porch

2005-04-17T14:27:00.000-04:00

Guess where I am right now?

Here! with my iBook, blogging. Isn't it great? We have a wireless internet connection, and I get a kick out of being able to go outside if I want to and still be connected.

Here is where the hungry riding mower lives, along with assorted pieces of gardening equipment and tools, and serves as storage for out of season patio furniture and cushions.

Jim insists it is not a cottage - it's a SHED. Hmmmm....let's see. Six foot slider in front, double-door-windowed side entry with ramp, porch with roof and railings, interior loft, windows on two sides. Sounds like a cottage to me. We had it dropped in place last fall fully built. That was an amazing feat of maneuvering through the trees.

It was nerve wracking to the nth degree. I think I must have held my breath the entire time. I have to hand it to the driver. He pulled that whole thing off without having the truck or the bed touch anything, even if he only had an inch to spare!

This is our water view from the front porch of the little cottage. Pardon, I mean Le Shed. It's the reservoir near our home. I think I've found heaven. Right now it's in the low 70's, birds are singing, lawn mowers buzzing around nearby, hardly a breeze blowing. An amazing day. Perfection. Think I'll toddle on in and refresh my drink.

Love to Eat Them Mousies ...

2005-04-16T23:30:00.000-04:00

Mousies what I love to eat.
Bite they little heads off,
Nibble on they tiny feet.
--- B. Kliban

Pong had a great time today. For the first time this year, he hunted down a mole. After dispatching the ill-fated rodent in traditional catly manner, he spent the next 15 minutes tossing him up in the air, flipping him over his shoulder, and using him for a hockey puck. Very proud of himself and shared the fun with the other two Tonks.

He may terrorize the local rodents, but Pong is actually just a big old marshmallow who wants to be cuddled and petted and purrs big time.

De-Mise of De Hat

2005-04-16T22:44:00.001-04:00

Today was gorgeous day here, and Jim spent a few hours on the riding mower on our nearly 2 acres of lawn. Well, one of those playful breezes yanked Jim's hat off his head and kicked it around a bit. Before he could catch the hapless chapeau, the greedy old lawnmower had gobbled it up and spit it out.

So, what do you think? Time to break out the sewing machine?

Mushroom Cousins

2005-04-15T23:16:00.000-04:00

I love looking at other's people's photos. Flickr is great for this pastime. Saw this beautiful photo from selva at Flickr:

and it brought me in mind of a photo I took in Ireland in a Japanese garden at the National Stud. A little army of mushroom umbrellas:

Nice, huh?

April 15th -Uncle Sam's Payday

2005-04-15T22:09:00.000-04:00

What a draining day. Finished up the tax paperwork on TurboTax, then found a couple of things I needed to add, so started a new tax form as a double check. All of a sudden the figures changed from owing big to big refund! Happy dancing with the printer. Just about to sign on the dotted line when I discovered I had hit the wrong buttons on my calculator on a final entry and made a major goof in addition. Major. Oops. Checkbook, please?

Well, I've calmed down ...

2005-04-14T19:49:00.000-04:00

...since last night when I had my tantrum. It is so frustrating to me to lose something I've spent a lot of time on with the computer. I've taken the precaution of first writing my blog entry in my word processing application. I'll save it, then post it to the blog. If it goes through, okey dokey. If it disappears into cyberspace, then nah nah nah - I'll repost it from my saved file. Assuming I remembered to save it.

I think I had been lulled into a false sense of security on Blogger. Although remembering my early-on blog site meltdown where I had to recreate the whole bloody mess from scratch, I should have been aware there are pitfalls lurking. But after that first disaster, everything was going along swimmingly, and I assumed life would be kind. But we all know what happens when we assume ... we make an ass of u and me.

I know, I know - that was tres lame. Enough grousing already.

What I had been repeatedly trying to post was an account of my bus trip to Washington D.C. with my fellow Red Hatters to see the cherry blossoms. Once in Washington, we boarded this futuristic-looking vessel called the Odyssey for a leisurely float down the Potomac.

It was wonderful. Tres posh. They fed us very well, there were two live bands, windows galore for blossom-watching, and the weather couldn't have been nicer. A great day all around. We were all decked out in our purple and red finery and made ourselves noticed, as we always do. Great fun.

As fun as this blogging is, I have to quit now and go back to the taxes. They're due tomorrow and I don't want to wait til the last minute. Wink, wink.

Someone is playing with my sanity ...

2005-04-13T23:55:00.000-04:00

I can't believe this, but this is the THIRD time !!! I have attempted to post a blog tonight. Don't know if there is a bug on Blogger or not, but the first time I wrote a (very, very long) entry, saved it as a draft. When I previewed it, nothing there! After saving it! Gone. Totally. Tried to recover it, but no way. Being the patient person I am, I spent the next 2 hours rewriting the entry, complete with 5 photos after uploading them into Flikr. Previewed it and hit publish post. Would you believe, the only thing that published was the TITLE? AARRGGGHHH!!!!!! It was GONE - again. That one had also been posted first as a draft.

I am so bummed I can't begin to redo this tonight. It's making me crazy. I have a roaring headache. I think I'll go eat some worms.

Rabbit, Rabbit ...

2005-04-01T23:36:00.000-05:00

I had a friend who always made it a point to be the first to say "rabbit, rabbit" on the first day of the month. Apparently you'll have good luck all month if the first words you utter are those. And you get extra good luck if it's your birth month. Well, RABBIT RABBIT everybody. And since April is the month I was born, I'm claiming all the good luck for myself. Besides, it's my blog and I get to do what I want.

I like having my birthday in April. I think it's a beautiful time of year, very fresh and new and springy. The flowers are in their earliest stages, and the weeds haven't had a chance to take hold. The earth is all spongy and smells - well - earthy, I guess. A good thing. It's so pastoral. Love that word. Evokes images of Bo Peep tending her sheep, floppy bonnet, full skirts, petticoats, staff.

Pastoral:

adj 1: of or relating to a pastor; "pastoral work"; "a pastoral letter" 2: relating to shepherds or herdsmen or devoted to raising sheep or cattle; "pastoral seminomadic people"; "pastoral land"; "a pastoral economy" [syn: bucolic] 3: used of idealized country life; "a country life of arcadian contentment"; "a pleasant bucolic scene"; "charming in its pastoral setting"; "rustic tranquility" [syn: arcadian, bucolic, rustic] 4: suggestive of an idyll; charmingly simple and serene; "his idyllic life in Tahiti"; "the pastoral legends of America's Golden Age" [syn: idyllic] n 1: a musical composition that evokes rural life [syn: pastorale, idyll] 2: a letter from a pastor to the congregation 3: a literary work idealizing the rural life (especially the life of shepherds)

[Source: WordNet 2.0. 2003 Princeton University]

Serenity now!

Hey, that was supposed to be my sandwich, you little thief!

2005-03-31T14:26:00.000-05:00

DSC00620
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

We have a lot of squirrels on our property. Uninvited, but here all the same. Jim feeds the birds, the deer, the pond fish, all the little critters that inhabit our neck of the woods. He can't help it. That's how he shows he cares - he feeds you. That is, all except the squirrels, but they don't know that. They think all the anti-squirrel contraptions he's rigged around the bird feeders to deter them are merely pieces of exercise equipment put there for their amusement. Or ours. They perform all kinds of acrobatics and trapeeze tricks, and they're really quite good at it. The best one I've seen yet is the Fireman's Pole Slide. They hike themselves up the pole that supports one of the feeders, grab a mouthful of seed, and then WHOOSH !! down they slide. All they need are little fireman's helmets to complete the picture. Too funny.

Water Dancing

2005-03-29T20:11:00.000-05:00

CIMG0208.JPG
Originally uploaded by teach42.

Water Dancing is what my friend calls my twice weekly-water aerobics class. I love it. Brings to mind all kinds of graceful, which it is, and lots of fun. No, this photo isn't my water aerobics class, but it's an inspiration, isn't it? Would that we all looked like this. Sigh...

I love my water aerobics class. It's actually called something like Water Rythymics. Anyway, it's fun, and we feel like we're getting a lot of exercise, although according to my husband our mouths are probably getting the most. (He calls it my Social Swim.) Regardless, we can't help ourselves. We're women, after all, and it's undoubtedly programmed into our XX chromosome wiring.

I'm thinking of posting this photo on my fridge as a dieting incentive. Or not.

Knit Wits Dinner Table at K's

2005-03-27T18:27:00.000-05:00

Knit Wits Dinner Table
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

Isn't this a lovely table setting? Martha, take notes. K made us all feel so special when she hosted our Knit Wits dinner last Friday. We had to capture it all in a photo before we dove in. The little hand painted flower pots were our favors, complete with compressed peat pots and a package of flower seeds. The main dish was chicken made in her crockpot and dressed up with dried cranberries.

It was delicious!

Hmmmmmm .... I did not know this

2005-03-26T12:31:00.000-05:00

easterbunny
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

Sorry, I just couldn't resist. But it's spring, love is in the air, and some of us are conflicted, nearsighted, or just plain opportunists.

Spring Has Sprung ... !!!

2005-03-24T20:25:00.000-05:00

Funny Bunny
Originally uploaded by bigdusha.

After a drenching day yesterday, today was great. Sunny, dry, warm-ish. The daffodils are pushing up all over the yard. I love it.

Went to the grand opening of the new Michael's in Westminster today. Very new smelling, fully stocked, and oh so tempting. After walking down every aisle at least twice, I can't believe it, but I actually left the store without making even one small purchase. How is that even possible? I guess I just know I have so many projects already started and materials to start new ones if I wanted to, I can't justify starting anything new. No more hobbies. But I sure was tempted. All that scrapbooking stuff, amazing paper making projects, cigar box purses to put together, yum yum! They had a lot of fun fur and novelty yarn, but I think most of their yarn is ordinary acrylic, so that didn't tempt me.

The afghan knitting project is moving along pretty rapidly after an earlier sluggish restart. I was going like gangbusters last night. This afghan is the famous war blanket. I'm in the groove now, and I can imagine actually finishing it within a few days. Hooray!

The Beginning of a New Week

2005-03-21T20:46:00.000-05:00

I hope I have greater success with knitting this week than last. Friday Night Knit Wits was frustrating for all of us. For some reason we were all making mistakes, having to rip back, and start over. The good news is that P perfected her knitting and did a beautiful job, after some starts and stops, but at the end of the evening she had graduated from practicing and was ready to start a baby sweater. K made a fabulous chicken dinner in her crockpot, and we all loved it. Once again, the best part of the evening was just being together and sharing laughs.

I'm working on my war blanket - the afghan I started when Iraq invaded Kuwait, but abandoned after the rout. A mistake was discovered that required starting over, and I didn't have the patience. It was taken up again when the U.S started the war with Iraq, restarted after correcting the error, and 3 out of 5 strips finished before once again being cast aside. Well, it's back on the needles again. Let's hope this time is the charm and I can finally use it. It's really soft and pretty, a harringbone/checkerboard pattern in mauve, green and ivory. Maybe if I finish it the war will be over. Good thought, anyway.

St. Patrick's Day

2005-03-17T17:07:00.000-05:00

Moss fungus and lichen
Originally uploaded by Photogopher.

I couldn't resist this photo. It's gorgeous, a natural setting with moss, fungus, and lichen, and shamrocks. How lovely. This was taken, not by me, along the trail at Silver Falls, Oregon.

Today is the day for a traditional corned beef and cabbage dinner, which is what we will be having. Afterwards, will tackle the horrible sweater again. I must remember what I was told yesterday in a yarn shop. I should not be afraid of my knitting projects. They are only sticks and string. If they fail to behave properly, I should talk to them and threaten them with being ripped out unless they obey me. They are not the boss of me. I am in charge! I am woman, hear me roar ...

Fighting with Lace Knitting

2005-03-15T22:36:00.000-05:00

There's one thing about being an ambitious beginner. You don't know what you don't know. And you don't know when a pattern is beyond your grasp. As I wrote earlier, I'm working on a Paton Divine Lace sweater that I fell in love with in a weak moment, knit with Divine yarn - soft, mohair-like, tufty, catches easily in the needles. I made the back and the front, and am working on one of the sleeves. That's where the lace begins. Well, that's where the trouble also begins. One thing I've learned while combatting the pattern and the tufty yarn is that you really need to concentrate when knitting lace. It's really, really hard to put back on the needles when you make a mistake. Not impossible, but it's very discouraging. And time consuming. Instead of liking the sweater more and more, I'm liking it less. I hope this feeling turns around, because I don't want to just abandon it, but knitting is supposed to be fun, and I'm not having fun right now.

Meet the Tonkers

2005-03-14T21:25:00.000-05:00

Paddle, Ball, and Pong
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

I'd like to introduce our Tonkinese felines. From left to right - Paddle, Ball, and Pong. Tonks are a breed originally crossed between a Siamese and a Burmese. Their distinguishing characteristics are beautiful aqua eyes (a blend between the Siamese's sapphire and the Burmese's yellow.) Paddle's eyes are more a light green than aqua. They have beautiful, soft, mink-like coats. The colors are blue, natural mink, champagne, and platinum. Ours are a platinum solid, a platinum mink, and a blue. Our Ping was a gorgeous natural mink.

Tonks are very sociable cats, quite muscular and athletic, and great talkers. Pong has a purr so loud you can easily hear it across the room. It carries over the telephone and can drown out the caller when he's in full purr mode. They love to be up high, and have even jumped up onto the top edge of doors. Paddle is a shoulder rider.

They're all sweet and lovable and very intelligent. I've heard Tonks described as the cat for dog people. I used to call Ping my puppycat because she followed me around just like a dog. Each of our kitties has its own distinct personality. Ball is the smallest cat, but he's the alpha male, loves to ambush and take pot shots of the others. Pong is nearly twice Ball's size, but he's just a big old marshmallow. Very easy going, a lover not a fighter. Paddle is our whiney cat. She can drive you crazy with her meowing, usually because she wants attention or she's lonely - can't find the other kitties and wants to cuddle with somebody. If she's shown where the other kitties are sacked out, she's happy and curls up in the pussy pile.

Oh, woe is me ...

2005-03-13T16:08:00.000-05:00

Defaced Scream
Originally uploaded by t-squared.

I've spent the past few days in cyber hell trying to recreate - yes, FROM BLOODY SCRATCH - my ENTIRE blog. Somehow, when I tried to post it on Thursday, it had disintegrated. It was "Not Found." Huh? I pulled it up from my Bookmark Bar, and there it was, just as I'd left it. I could read it, but could not post to it, access the template, or in any way, shape, or form change or manipulate it. NOT FOUND. It's like it was encased in a glass box that I could only view from the outside, nose pressed flat. After poking around for a couple of hours, and in the process only screwing things up even further, I wrote to Blogger and waited patiently for them to respond. And waited. Imagined those nasty little computer nerds snorting their Coke out their noses laughing at me. Read other blogs. Got posting envy. When I hadn't received any help by Saturday, I figured if I waited for Blogger to extricate me from my mess, I might end up like one of those cobweb covered skeletons draped over my computer.

Well, that charming image finally motivated me. I decided to dive into HTML Land alone, armed only with the internet and Google to guide me. You see, I am not only a newbie to blogging, I'm a newbie to all things HTML. All those little squiggles and symbols make about as much sense to me as Egyptian hieroglyphics. Less, actually. The Egyptians had the good sense to draw their words as pictographs that translate into letters we can relate to.

Of course, since the old blog was defunct, I had to get a new web address. That's how disintegrated it was. The web address I wanted was already taken. By me. But even though it's mine, I can't have it. How mean is that? Now I'Il have to go through the embarrassing exercise of telling everyone my new blog address, and they probably haven't even looked me up yet on the OLD address. How pathetic is that? Don't mean to be a whiner, but I'm too old for this nonsense. I have, after all, a life to lead that actually consists of things other than a laptop computer. All this squinting at the computer screen is giving me wrinkles. I think I need Botox.

Woolens shop in Avoca, Ireland

2005-03-13T14:50:00.000-05:00

Woolens shop in Avoca, Ireland
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take a photo inside the woolens shop. The colors were incredible. A feast for the eyes.

Avoca, Ireland (Balleykissangel setting)

2005-03-13T14:49:00.000-05:00

Avoca, Ireland (Balleykissangel setting)
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

Isn't this gorgeous? On our trip through Ireland this past October, one of our stops was at a woolen mill in Avova, Ireland. Avoca is the location where the PBS series Balleykissangel is filmed. The whole of Ireland is absolutely lovely, and this photo captures the feeling of being a true fairyland. Just looking at the photo transports me back.

Ping - Tonkinese Extraordinaire - 1996-2004

2005-03-13T14:46:00.000-05:00

Ping
Originally uploaded by tonkitty.

Here's my beautiful Ping. She was an exceptional kitty, unfortunately developed a liver problem and stopped eating. I miss her a lot.

It's a Winter Fairyland Out There .....

2005-03-13T13:13:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's balmy breezes were just a spring tease - we're back to a winter white out. Probably won't stick, but it's beautiful right now, and coming down pretty fiercely. The birds are fussing and fighting on the suet cage and seed feeders. Right now it's a quarrelsome bunch of starlings flapping to edge out a foothold. Earlier there was a flock -a FLOCK!- of cardinals brunching between the feeders, sampling a little of everything. I couldn't take my eyes off them. I've never seen so many cardinals in one spot. Usually I've seen a pair or perhaps two pairs, but here today there were a dozen, probably more. The shades of red are gorgeous against the white of the snow. The smaller birds have had to wait their turn - finches, grosbeaks, warblers, sparrows. The woodpeckers are there as well, hammering away at the suet cakes. A bluejay is patiently waiting his turn off to the side. I could watch them all day. Must get busy.

It looks like a great day to knit. My current project is a Patons Divine Lacework Sweater in a color called Halo Blue, a soft icy blue. Fell in love with the pattern and yarn, so bought it, not noticing until I got home that the pattern is designated "Intermediate." Hmmm.......I think I'm more an advanced beginner. The yarn is very tufty and soft to the touch, although a bit troublesome to knit up. The back and front are finished. I've started a sleeve, where the lacework kicks in, so we'll see if I'm up to the challenge. I hope so.

The Tonks have been keeping a close eye on the birds, and now they're feeling sleepy. They've decided to settle in early for their afternoon nap. A good day for it, all in all.

Friday Night Knit Wits

2005-03-13T13:11:00.000-05:00

Friday was our twice monthly Knit Wit get together at J's. We alternate between each other's houses for a true girls' night out with dinner, wine, and knitting. In her usual even better-than-Martha style, J served up a wonderful Italian meal before we got started on knitting. It was delicious, and J's table was beautiful, complete fresh spring flowers and little Easter favors at each place. After finishing off the meal, we remembered we were there to knit and began with oohing and aahing over patterns we might try before breaking out the current projects and beginnng in earnest. While we all know how to knit, none of us is very experienced, and we help each other with advice and excouragement. K has given up on knitting altogether, and instead crochets circles around the rest of us. She's currently working on an elaborate baby's dress that is truly gorgeous, a real prize winner. It's great fun to see the progress we are making. We have six in our group now, and have discovered that we knit differently. The former and current crocheters all knit Continental style, while the rest of us use the English style. After comparing and trying the opposite way, we decided to go back to our own most comfortable style. It was too much like trying to write with the opposite hand. Gave us lots of laughs in the efforts, though. What a hoot. Another great evening with good friends.