That darn dog!

And this is what I opened the door to see two days ago.

My dog, Lance, is a black Chow Chow. By all human standards a good dog. He had a tough life which included many years on the streets of Newark killing to eat. So, it is in his, shall we say, blood. I knew that when I adopted him. However, he is amazing with kids and people - quite opposite from a typical Chow who is very dominant and possessive and protective of their people and homes. Not Lance. He just kills "things" when he gets out. Needless to say, we don't let him out without a leash. However, in his old age, he has become like Houdini escaping from this house. I love what my mother calls it when he bolts out the door. She says he runs out of here like a "ruptured duck". That could be a whole other blog but suffice it to say, Eric and I have never seen a ruptured duck run, but I will take her word for it.

So, two days ago the children and I were leaving to go to school and out that door he went - like a "ruptured duck"...the only problem with that is the only thing ruptured in the end was a deer - AGAIN. Now Lance is fat and he is old. Chows average life span is 8-10 years. Lance will be 11 this November. I am absolutely convinced that we will have the oldest Chow on record. With my luck, he will live to be 18! However, Lance isn't too fat or too old or too slow for that matter to not catch a deer!

When he runs, he runs and doesn't come home for awhile. When he does come home, he lays around the front steps but when someone opens the door to let him in, he runs away again. This goes on all day. So the last time when I opened the door to let him in, he turned around and looked at me and started wagging his tail...like he was proud of himself, happy, something. Not like him at all. I walked down one stair wondering why he hadn't run and then I saw it. A deer leg...chewed off and left there as a prize. Almost like the murderer who keeps something from the kill as a trophy. When I saw it, I shot "the look" at Lance, at which point, he bolted like duck that was running for his life. I walked back in the house, slammed the door, and lost my head. "That =+%$#@#@ DOG! He @#%^$%# did it again! He killed another deer and left the @##@ leg on the stoop!". Oh man, I blew a gasket! So, what was I supposed to do with this leg on my stoop? Well, of course, what any other wife would do. I picked it up by the hoof, carried it to Eric's work bench outside in the garage and left it there for him to figure out what to do with it.

Now, as far as I was concerned, Lance was going to spend the night out there in the rain until the blood was washed clean from his furry fat head! But Eric, being WAY more compassionate than I am, let him in and washed him off himself. No way! Not me! With all that said, it has been three days since this happened. Today is Thursday and tomorrow is garbage day. The deer leg is still on the work bench in the garage smelling quite ripe I might add. I am hoping it makes it to the woods or at least the garbage can tomorrow. Before we know it, the vulchers will be breaking into our garage to eat the decaying carcass!

Until next time...

I day in the life...

"Bye honey, is there anything I can do for you while you are away?". Eric said no and walked away. Before leaving, he turned around and said, "as a matter of fact, you can. You can weed whack, edge and if you want, mow the lawn". OK I thought. I love power tools. After receiving instructions on how to work the thing he left. I go outside, find it, read the instructions on the side of the whacker (which was Eric's instructions to me..."Just read the instructions on the weed whacker"). Pretty simple. Push the air button 10 times, move the choke to full throttle, pull the pull start three times. Move the throttle to half speed and pull the pull start until it starts. About 4 pulls and I have power....COOL. Put on ear protection and off I go. Took a few minutes to figure out exactly how to "edge". If you are not careful, you can pull up chunks of grass...I know. And if you get too close to the ground or tip it certain ways you can also pull up chunks of grass. I figured that out, too. It was like a divit in golf. But, once we were past the 7 divits, I got the hang of it and it was really fun. This, I have to tell you. is no ordinary whacker. High power, heavy and gas - which is another thing...gas or gas and oil? I'll get there in a minute.

I whacked the sidewalk and edged it. I did under the playset and edged that, too. I did along the rock wall and was about to the side of the house when it ran out of gas. I go to the garage and start looking around. I see a little thing on the whacker that had a gas symbol and a drop symbol and I figured it is gas and oil mixture. But we have three red gas cans and one blue one. I start with blue...definitely kerosene. Next...empty. Next, think it smells like gas and the last I really wasn't sure so I used that one. After pouring 1 gallon on the driveway, the little tank was full. I pushed the air button 10 times, put the throttle full, pull three times, move throttle to half, pull a few more times and viola - we have power...

And that's when it happened. Like a bad dream. The pull start rope thing wouldn't go back in and it stalled. It was like it got stuck. I couldn't pull start again because it was stuck in the out position with the rope/string thing hanging down. OK, I debated taking it to the shop to have someone fix it, but thought surely I can rewind the thing. I found the right screwdriver with the little star end, unscrew everything to take off the cap to the pull start housing. Still couldn't get that white casing to wind. I tried winding the rope around manually but you couldn't because there was no space to get it in, tried winding left and right and it was dead stuck...wouldn't budge. Oh, I see one more screw right in the middle of the white thing that the rope pull start winds around so I figured that must come off, then I can wind it up and call it a day. I unscrew it and that is when it happened. Like a slinky that was bound in a 2" box when you open the top, it sprang off with such force that it actually scared me and I screamed. Apparently there is a wire spring (like 10 feet long - honest it was) that is between that little white thing that holds the rope for the pull start and the whacker...it must serve some purpose cause it was there. The entire end of the whacker sprang into pieces...crud! CRUD! What am I going to tell Eric? I am going to be permanently banned from power tools! So, I figure if I can rewind the metal and pop it back together, it will be fine, but let me tell you one thing...If you even have 1.5 hours to kill, get a thin piece of metal (like stripping) and make sure it is AT LEAST 10 feet long, then try to wind it into a final circle of about 2" in diameter! I give up. So I call Eric...

"Hi honey, how was your flight?". "Good, what's up?". "Er, how much do you think it costs for a new, gas powered weed whacker?"...I heard some noise at which point I stopped listening. When I leave here, I am stopping at Home Depot. I think they will know the price and it will be audible words that I can understand.

Until next time...

Late, as usual...

Try as I might, I am NEVER on time. And I don't ever mean to be late. I really feel like that is like saying someone else's time isn't as important as yours. How can someone wake up at 4:30 in the morning and be late to school more times than not and school doesn't start till 8:30? When you figure it out, let me know so we can be on time to school.

Yesterday, I picked up 4 kids at school (my two and my friends two) and one stayed at school for a soccer program for an hour. I was going to take the two girls to the barn to ride, come back to school and pick up Ethan and go back to the barn, get the girls and go home with the 5 kids. That was my plan, anyway.

We get to the barn and Morgan (my friend's daughter) forgot her insulin bag at school, now for the record, being a TypeI diabetic and not having an insulin bag is NOT good. I always have glucose in my car just in case her blood sugar gets really low and I gave her them and told her I would be right back with her bag and brother. This was 3:30. I went right back to the school to pick Ethan up at 4 and saw a friend...need I say any more. Ethan continued to play soccer of course and I yakked and yakked and yakked some more. I actually stood in the pouring rain, two 7 year old kids in my car still cause I was "just picking Ethan and getting Morgan's insulin bag" and I guess I lost track of time. The next thing I know Adam gets out of the car, walks across the parking lot and asked me if we could go now. A side note: I had put a movie on when I got out of the car. I called Ethan, got the bag and said goodbye and got in the car (soaking wet I might add) and realized when I got in that the movie was over..."that cannot be good" I thought and looked at the clock. It was 5 pm! Now, this wouldn't be the end of the world normally but Ethan had a baseball game and had to leave at 5:30 (and of course it was NOT raining in Chester where he lives) and still have to pick up the girls at the barn...HOLY COW!!! I have the insulin bag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I race to the barn and Morgan is eating candy canes which means she crashed with the sugar which is VERY dangerous and I have the bag. So I scramble to get the girls and quick call Kristen, my girlfriend. I am in a complete and total panic at this point that now, because of my being late, their family has to race around and poor Morgan needs to get this blood thing figured out and Ethan has a game....Kristen answers the phone, "Hello?". "Hi, Kristen...It's me. I am SO sorry that it is almost 5:30 and your kids are not home (now I want you to read this as fast as you can because no matter how fast you read it, I was saying it faster!)...I am at the barn and I am leaving now. Get their dinner ready, get Ethan's clothes, and when I get to your house, I will slow down enough that when I throw your kids out, they won't get hurt too badly". Kristen is so kind and funny. She is like, "No big one - I was hoping the game would be cancelled but it seems to be raining everywhere but here, but take your time...no big one". So, now this is what I pictured in my head (though it didn't really happen and as it turned out, the game had been cancelled by the time I got to her house, but this is what played in my head like a movie)...

I slow the car down, open the door, have the kids jump out. They are rolling, but get up pretty quickly and dust themselves off and run into the house. Kristen is waiting at the front door with food in her hand and she proceeds to shove it into Ethan and Sydney and Morgan's mouth as she throws baseball clothes at Ethan, the whole time yelling..."Come on, Come on...we gotta go...." and so the kids hurry toward the back door and into the garage. Poor Ethan has food coming out of his mouth, Morgan is grabbing what she needs on the way out and Sydney is just trying to keep up. As Ethan races to the car drooling, he has one cleat on and the other in his hand and he is jumping on one foot to the car because it is raining and he doesn't want to get his foot wet. He is hopping, one cleat on and the other in his hand, he is drooling and his baseball shirt is on only one arm and head and the other arm is being used to try to maneuver his cleat on the foot in the air. They hop in the car, baseball equipment falling out of the doors as they quick get in and Kristen goes to start the car and the battery is dead. They come running out after me (because the above happened in less than 1 minute 25 seconds) and they are screaming...I turn around to see what was wrong and find out Kristens car is dead. I cannot jump start it because it is in the garage and I can't get my car in the other side because the other side is storage. Plan B...the kids stumble out of her car, go to get in my car and Kristen gets in the front seat and we realize that I am one car seat short...UGH. At that very moment, her cell phone rings and it is the coach telling her the game was cancelled...

I tell you, there is a party going on in my head. Until next time...

Cooking...just not for me

I tell ya, this cooking thing just isn't for me. Now you know it is bad when you go to your doctor and see your friend there who says that she cracks up when she sees me posting something about cooking on facebook. She told me in the 20 years I have been with Eric that I have NEVER cooked, and while that isn't completely true, it is largely true. So, holding true to my character, my mouth engaged before my brain had a chance to think. Hate when that happens. I did that once in church (OK, I've done it tons of times, but this one particular time in church...) someone who I didn't know came up to me and asked me if I knew someone who could watch her seven year old son while she worked. She went thru this whole story about being newly divorced and having to work two jobs and needing someone to pick up her son at school on Tuesdays and keep him till like 7 and before my brain had a chance to engage, my mouth shouted, "I will do it"..."what!!!" I thought...I am telling you, I stood there staring into space for about a minute absolutely stunned at what my mouth had just done. I mean, I don't even know this lady...I know NOTHING about her son - nothing! My mind was screaming at my mouth and at this point, my mouth was very sorry for what it had done. At about that time, her son walked up to her, threw a paper airplane at her and said "Here idiot"...OMG! This is the kid my mouth just volunteered to watch? At that very moment, I explained that I have rules in my house and he had to obey my rules. I did watch him for almost a year. He did spend much of his time on the couch in time out, but I did see this lost little boy come out of his shell and become a very nice boy...However, with that said...

Yesterday, my mouth engaged (once again) before my brain could stop it or my hand could make it to my mouth to shut it up. I volunteered to make dinners and meals for a friend of mine who is battling cancer and just got home. Now those of you who know me, know that cooking is not my thing. As a matter of fact, when I open my pantry door, I resemble a deer caught staring into headlights. I usually decide it is data overload and shut the door and walk away. That is my daily attempt at dinner. Oh, she is a vegetarian, did I mention that? I don't even know how to cook normal food! Now I love this friend, but cleaning her house, mowing her lawn, planting, weeding, painting a portrait would be more my speed. Meals! What was I thinking? I know, you are dying to say I wasn't thinking, which brings this full circle.

I did manage to cook a few things (that I watched my cambodian friend make)...this is Victoria, "Arrie (roll your r's), all you do is chop, chop, chop...dum, dum, dum"...now I was a bit offended at that remark. Even me! Now it is ok for me to make fun of myself, but not Vic. I looked at her and said, "Did you just call me dumb?" She said, "No, dum, dum, dum"..."Vic, did you just call me dumb again?". She laughed and slowed down her broken speech to say, "No, dummmmpppp, dummmmpppp, dummmmpppp" - into the boiling water she meant. Chop the stuff on the counter and dump it into a pot. The other things I found recipes for. One was "Quinoa alfredo"...good luck finding quinoa. I have no idea what it is but knew it was some sort of a grain, so I bought couscous instead. Never tasted that...it even had brussell sprouts in it. Who on earth eats those things? Anyway, I have to add one little final note:

Heather (my friend) has a PhD in nutrition, is an author of several healthy cookbooks, is a fantastic cook and can make some greens from the front lawn taste like something from a 5 star restaurant. She is a darn doctor of food - what on earth am I doing cooking for the doctor of food! She was very kind in telling me the buritos were great (how can you mess up putting beans on a multi grain wrap and adding cheese?) but interestingly enough, never mentioned the brussell sprout thing nor the barley hazlenut salad thing...not too sure that was a hit, either. But, in the end, Heather does not have to worry about food. I am sure she has eaten worse things in putting together recipes for publication and I know her husband and children were thankful just to have mom home again.

Next time, I am sticking to killing bugs and setting lawns on fire!

Until next time...

Pee-You!

Let me add just one small post here. I walked into my house this evening after being gone all day and the VERY FIRST thing I smelled is DOG URINE! I scrubbed, sprayed (ODO-BAN which kills even the worst smell) and it still smells. Now with that said, he did pee down the heating floor vent. I went so far as to take the vent cover off, scrub it and get as far down the duct as I could with scrubbing stuff and scrubbed like Cinderella (maybe Annie - she was made to shine the floors like the top of the Chrysler building, right?) and THEN I sprayed ODO-BAN down the vent until is was running like a snotty nose in the middle of the winter! AND IT STILL STINKS! If I could shove his fat old head down the vent to rub his nose in it I would! I need to add one more thing...my husband is hard of smelling and I have THE MOST sensitive nose of anyone I know. I can smell garlic at ten paces. I know when Eric drinks, eats anything with garlic and it doesnt' have to be right before he comes home. We have actually gone through his list of food because when he walks in the front door and I am in the kitchen, I already smell it (made changing my babies diapers really hard - honest it did). And once we go through the list we realize that he had some breakfast omlette with potatoes that apparently had garlic in them.

I blocked off the sunroom because of Lance destroying the room - I could no longer go in there ('member the post - bad dog?). Now I truly don't know what to do because as I sit here, my stomach is turning and I am going to have to rub Vicks Vapor Rub under my nose to sleep tonight~

Until next time...

Computer issues...

I am beginning to think I lost my brain, truly, somewhere along the way. I went to "Oz" the other day (on FB) to get a brain and the Wizzard said he already gave the brain to the Scarecrow. With that said...

Last night I was checking in on Facebook, which I rarely do anymore. I usually get about 15 minutes on the computer each day - if I'm lucky. So, right before I went to bed last night, I got a glass of diet gingerale, sat down at the computer and do I really need to say what happened next?! I was typing away on my wireless keyboard (wireless is necessary to know and you'll see why in about a sentence or two) and it happened...the very thing I have drilled into my children's heads is 'NEVER sit at MY computer with a drink or food - NEVER!' I did. I put the drink right down next to the keyboard, started typing and reached over for the mouse and yes, the entire glass of gingerale dumped ALL over my keyboard. In an absolute panic, I took the keyboard (and this is where the wireless part comes in) and ran to the kitchen sink, turned on the water and began to spray the keyboard because I was afraid it would get sticky. HELLO!!!!!!! It NEVER dawned on me that the water spraying cannot be good for it either. About half way through the soaking, it occurred to me..."UGH, this CANNOT be good for the keyboard" and I turned off the water. With my tail hanging between my legs, just amazed at how blonde I can be at times, I went, got a dishtowel and began to furiously wipe.

Sit down at the computer with my spiffy clean keyboard and NOTHING...nada...zip...zilcho...nine (german for none). UGH. I HATE computers, phones, texting, email and anything else that has to do with technology because they hate me, too. As a matter of fact, I think they hated me first!
Suffice it to say I have had one high end IPOD jump into a lake, 1 brand new Blackberry (with no insurance I might add) vibrate its way off the kitchen counter into the dog's water bowl in the middle of the night, a NikonD80 decide to stop taking pictures and I can go on but will leave the rest up to your imagination.

I am at school right now, on a quick break because this keyboard actually works. I might add that Eric was absolutely unwilling to even think about helping me to salvage the accessories (my mouse decided to side with the keyboard and stop working as well). So, it seems I am on my own here. I think I am going to fast from computers again...maybe they need some time away from me. And the worst part is I am nice to them. I don't swear at them, I don't throw them around, bang on the keys and give them plenty of down time.

One more thing - OT - Lance peed on my dining room drape and floor this morning (or last night - not sure which) and yes, the pee went right down the duct (heating and air conditioning) so I am sure the entire house will reek like urine for the next 75 years. The drapes were, of course, custom made and sit right next to that silk rug. So, I actually thought about tying him to the shelter door and leaving him there, but Raechyl won't hear of it. The drapes cannot be drycleaned, only hand cleaned so that is how I spent my morning...staring at the computer from hell and cleaning up after the dog from hell. Curse these things!

Until next time...

I can't get away from birds!

It is like they hunt me down. The barn where we keep the horse has been there for the last 21 years or so (maybe more). Today I went to take inventory of the tack trunk. Rae wanted polo wraps and some other stuff and before we went, I thought I should see what we have since I never need tack...I don't ride much. Buddy is definitely a pet for me. Betadine, wraps, the necessities...more bits than one horse should own...a turnout sheet...a fly sheet...you know - more is better.

I decided to take the saddle pad home with the stall sheet to wash. Along with our grooming tools to take home to clean. Raech has her own saddle (and a nice one I might add). I share Donna's. Now after 4-5 years, I am still in a wicked learning curve with what is what. So I hunted Alex down to find out what the fly sheet and stall sheets were. Then I take what I need and load the car and at the last minute I remember my saddle. I thought, for sure, it needed cleaning and the cover definitely needed cleaning. So, I take the saddle cover off and was absolutley amazed at what I found...a birds nest. Yup, under the saddle cover and it was on the saddle itself. And it was the mother of all nests. It took up the entire seat - and for once I am not exaggerating! I could hardly believe my eyes. I looked inside and there were three little eggs that I have never seen before. Now clearly this nest has been there for the last two years (tells you the last time I rode) because it was solid and covered in feathers. The feathers were unidentifiable to me as well. I took pictures (facebook) and once again, got Alex. I showed her. She told me that in her 21 years there, she has NEVER seen a bird do that.

Of course not, I thought. This stuff you can't make up. So, I guess I won't be riding any time soon. I will keep an eye on them and once mommy is gone with babies also gone, I am chucking the nest and then will clean it all. I cannot even imagine what the saddle looks like under that nest (ugh). Then I went to the horse store and spent a small fortune on clothes that were needed, boots for Rae and a new helmet for her. Alright, I got a thing or two that wasn't really needed like charms for Buddy's halter, paint for his feet, saddle pad, polo wraps, bling for my phone and a few other things I think....

I now have a driveway full of things that need to be cleaned, a stall sheet and saddle pad in the washing machine, a saddle (Rae's) that needs cleaning and conditioning and a horse I never saw today....go figure!

Until next time...

Malacosoma disstria Hubner

"See ya, Kristen!", I said as I walked my girlfriend out. I had a little extra skip in my step Friday. Kristen was leaving for vacation the next morning and she stopped by to get her daughter from my house. She had no dinner and I was able to give her enough for dinner and fruit for dessert - a rarity for me to even have food for dinner. We have all heard my cooking stories! As I walked down the front steps, I saw it. My horror totally overtook me as I gasped for air! There they were - in full force....Malacosoma disstria Hubner - A.K.A...tent catepillars. All over my plum tree...and my weeping cherry...and who knows what else. I nearly fell down. As I stumbled and gasped for air, Kristen spun around to see if she needed to call 911. As she picked me up off the ground I explained the cause of my near death. She told me she just called her tree guy and he was coming in the morning. He told her she was "a day late and a dollar short" but would come anyway. I don't remember the tent catepillars in the spring - I was thinking fall. And they had not only "camped" out on my trees, they were all hatched! So what did I do? No tree guy for me - no siree Bob! Me - I head right for the heavy artillery...TORCH.

Now I have only torched them once last year. This very effective method was created by my husband who is one of the most creative people I know. I know the torch is blue and that Eric uses it for his hockey equipment. Now, hockey equipment is a life staple in our house. I think I could torch the hockey sticks and change the blades myself having seen Eric do it a thousand times. All I know is that the torch is blue and has a red thing on it to start it. So off to the garage I ran - full speed ahead. Shoot - can't find it in the garage....plan B. Eric's work room in the basement. Shoot - cannot find it there. Plan C (which is pretty amazing that I even have a plan. My plan is always to find someone with a plan) Find the hockey equipment. Whew - at least I know where to find that. I go rummaging thru the bag, which for anyone who is married to a hockey player knows the stench that is housed in that hockey bag...for some reason hockey players don't think they need to wash hockey equipment. And there it was...that blue tank and no top! So I rummage some more and there it was - the screw on top with that little red thing. I screwed it on and nothing. Push that red thing and nothing happened. Maybe I didn't screw it in right or maybe there is no gas. So I unscrewed it and that is when it happened. A distinctive hissing started. I thought that cannot be good. BUT it DID mean there was gas in this thing. What to do? Run outside with the thing so that if I blew, I wouldn't kill the kids inside. Outside seemed like a safer place to me. I screwed it back on and tried again. And that is when I remembered Eric's instructions..."R, turn that little black knob. That turns the gas on. Then when you hear that hissing sound, push that little red button right there and you will hear a click and a flame will shoot out right there". Nice and simple. Turn the black thing and wait for a hissing noise. Push that little red thing and hope you don't kill yourself and everything in a 500 yard radius. Eureka - we have flame. Off to the tree I ran.

Now, Eric's method is so effective because you burn everything in sight. The downfall is that the tent and all the little creepy crawly things in it fall down and then you have to burn them on the ground...which for most yards isn't an issue cause most people have grass. But we have manicured beds with pine bark nuggets under the trees....wood chips and torch...you do the math. It isn't pretty.

So, I turn the torch up as high as it could go and I went to town. I torched everything I could reach. They had three huge tents in this little tree and the things were all outside the tent (as well as about a million inside the tent). The tents burn quickly and easily....the worms - not so much. They can live thru an incredible amount of heat. They were dropping to the ground like dead leaves falling off a tree in a storm. And I kept torching until the tree was free of those little critters...but now I have the ground issue to deal with. So, I started torching the ground and created a little fire here and there...the lesser of two evils if you ask me. Now, Raechyl sees the smoke and runs outside to see me with a blow torch burning everything in sight. She, in a panic, asks me what I am doing and as I explain, she starts lecturing me on why I shouldn't kill what God has created. She once cried in a supermarket as Eric picked live lobster for dinner when she found out we were going to boil and eat them. I didn't much care what she thought right now. All I knew was that I was a girl on a mission and my mission was to obliterate everything in sight. So, I have successfully killed all the worms on one tree, but the ground was on fire. So I make Raechyl get a hose and start putting out fires.

On to the next tree. I pulled a branch of the weeping cherry tree and that is when I screamed and ran. There wasn't enough gas in the entire world that would kill the billion worms that were out of the tent and ALL over the tree branch that I pulled down. So I ran past Raechyl with the hose straight in the front door - completely wigged out.

As Eric came home, he questioned why the front yard was on fire and Raechyl was out there with a hose. I explained and advised him that he needed to go out with a saw and lop the entire top of the tree down. He said he would tomorrow...well, tomorrow would be too late. I made him go out at that minute, in his work clothes (because that was easier for him than listening to me freak out about the bugs) and got a saw and lopped it off. When he came inside I asked what he had done with the infected part of the tree he sawed off...

"I threw it in the woods"...need I say more. If we thought we had worms before that, consider 6 acres of woods and a million bugs that live on trees....

Until next time...