Its Not ALL Bad

Last nights post was a tad... well. I freely admit I was feeling rather low. I don't do still at the best of times, and apparently I also suffer from some kind of short term memory issues as I would lay immobile for a while, and then would somehow forget the white hot blinding pain from the last time I tried to move and reach over for a different magazine or to nudge Pandora off my foot – only to have my lapse in thought thoroughly explained to my addled brain as the wave of pain rolled over me. So in my suffering (I have plenty of experience in this type of thing, so allow me to state I would rather break both legs AND be in the midst of a PMS typhoon then do nasty things to my ribs. I know the first sounds worse... but at least you get a flashy set of wheels for a month and the terrified natives proffer chocolate in the hopes of appeasing your momentary demons. Ribs? Anything that makes you weep and shake at the mere thought you might sneeze – Worse. MUCH worse.) I may have given the impression that being a klutz is a truly terrible thing.

Not so my friend. In fact, there are some standout good points that make me happy to claim the slightly bruised and battered crown of klutzdom. Allow me to explain.

1 – When helping friends to move, they will only allow you to carry items like pillows and blankets – and these only to ground level rooms. The rest of the day they will give you “important” jobs, such as keeping the lemonade pitcher (plastic) filled and the cats (declawed) out of the way.

2 – When camping in groups any job involving axes, sharp pieces of wood, fire, tent stakes, rusty buckets, ropes, or decisions regarding the setup of latrines or water stations are allocated quickly – to anyone other then you. A friendly offer of help splitting wood for the nights fire will usually result in a panicked look from the offeree and a renewed vigor on their part to get the job done before you can wander towards them.

3 – Bravery. Sounds like an odd one, I know. But its true. Once you fully embrace your inner klutz, fear over hurting yourself fades into the background. You already KNOW you're not walking away from a task unscathed... but after a few dozen trips to the emergency room you know the worst that can happen. It might hurt, but it won't kill you.* Knowing intimately on a scale of 1-10 what a broken bone feels like means you know the risks and can compensate for them – so go ahead and climb that tree to get down the neighbor's cat. Worse comes worst? A klutz always has a stack of wheelchair accessible projects to work on over the next month.

4 – Rapid healing. Most true klutzes I know develop this. I don't know if we're all mutant freaks and thus are able to speed our healing, or if it is something our bodies develop in self-defense.** Whichever the case, I've never had a broken bone that took longer then a month before I cracked off my own cast or a scar that didn't eventually get reabsorbed back into my body. I bruise like a son of a gun... but they go from ugly to washed out sometimes in just a day.

5 – Medical Knowledge. This one comes under the heading of survival... but after tumbles, knock-downs, slices and breaks - I have learned how to put in my own stitches, slam my shoulder back into its socket, and reset a finger that just really REALLY shouldn't look like that. I'll laugh my butt off while doing it (some people cry, I giggle. The Prime Geek tells me my way keeps things moving and getting done... but is far more disturbing.) but I can put most of myself – and others – back together until someone qualified comes along.

6 – How to fall. A knowledge that has saved my skin a hundred times. Don't fight the graceless moment, don't try to prove you're cool, accept gravity is going to win and roll with it. Ignore people staring, dismiss the laughter, and just go with the zen of the fall. 95% of the damage folks do to themselves is done when they try to overcompensate for their own missteps. I don't mind the bruises - its fighting them that results in breaks.

7 – And finally – Angels and Fate watch over small children, fools, and klutzes. Something in our very makeup seems built to allow us an extra roll of the dice, often creating moments of serendipity in which the planets all aligned and the music of the spheres is allowed to ring.

What do I mean? An example – This morning was rough, very rough on this nerd. I had spent a restless night staring at the ceiling and wondering at what point should I stop being a hardass and call out to my husband that now – NOW was the time to carry my sad carcass to the ER. Nature had been trying to call for hours and I could no longer ignore the need. Gathering myself up to jerkily move – my feet got tangled in the bedsheets and I went down in a heap, slamming my back into the edge of the bed.

After the shock, pain, tears, cursing, and the wave of self-pity rolled back, I took a deep breath to survey the damage I had added to myself. Frankly, I was afraid that I had finally graduated from popped ribs to a broken back. There had been several nasty cracks coming from my back... this wasn't going to be good and my cell phone lay in the corner on the floor – thrown several feet away from me in the fall. With a shudder I tried to rise and...

Danged if I haven't popped the rib back into where its supposed to be.

Still hurts, but can breath now. Still sore, but I'm moving without crying.

Klutziness rules.


*Permanently. At least more then once. I find that oddly comforting.
**My mother also claims in my case it has something to do with the gallon of skim milk a day she used to pour down my brother and I's throats. To this day, I still put away a half gallon or so a day. Many health issues run in my family - osteoporosis tisn't one I worry too much about.

In Which A Nerd Confesses

Sitting uneasily propped up in bed, trying to type/breath/and groan at the same time, I feel a need to confess something. Just in case a few of you have failed to pick up on it in the last few months.

I, your natural nerd.... am something of a klutz.

I spent my childhood reassuring well meaning social workers that no, in fact my parents didn't beat me - daily bruises notwithstanding. It took me getting distracted in front of one women and opening a door into my face (blacking my eye and giving myself a nosebleed) to make her realize that the only person doing me any damage was myself.

Since reaching my 20's I've been given more cards for women's shelters/ divorce attorneys / and self-defense classes then all of the Lifetime Movie main characters combined.

My husband, the Prime Geek, married me and honestly thought he would be able to imbue me with a little of his own grace and suavity. Sadly, the force is far stronger in this one... and his own graceful star is beginning to look a bit tarnished. (Our wedding night was the first moment he came face to face with this possibility. My mother had bought us black satin sheets as a romantic/silly gift and he ended up slamming himself headfirst into the opposite wall after skittering across them when he attempted a sensual slide.)

I've broken bones that I hadn't realized I had, ripped/torn/and slashed most of the muscles and tendons keeping my bits together, and spent a whole lot of my life wondering if I should put down "bruised" as my skin tone.

I have found the more naturally I eat, the less chemicals I keep around the house, and the more time I spend wandering outside - the faster I heal up... getting me to my next pratfall all the faster. So my trials and tries are a kind of Good News/ Bad News scenarios.

This time? The furry troublemakers attempts to kill me dang well nearly succeeded, with me heading down the stairs head first. The noggin is fine, but the chiropractor is muttering something about "popped" ribs and possible cracks. Me? I'm just muttering "Owe." A lot. A whole lot. Okay... there may well be some profanity squeaking out as well.

The part that has me banging my head against a wall? I have an interview coming up this weekend regarding an option to start doing this whole writing thing as a proper real "grownup" job and I've been a tad stressed out over it. Couldn't write, couldn't sew, didn't know what to do with myself.

This.... is not the distraction I had in mind. Next time I yell out to the universe that I need something to keep my mind occupied, I'm darn well specifying PLEASANT time wasters.

Owe.




One thing this has accomplished is make me all the more certain that when the time comes for the PG and I to build our green dream home - there will be NO RUDDY STAIRS!

Keep Bothering

A real post will follow in a few hours - the rain that is sitting on the house gives me free rein to putter on the computer without a drop of guilt* - but I found a link through a great blog I read daily http://kaleforsale.blogspot.com/ and wanted to make sure to pass it along to ya'll. Michael Pollen has a rather good take on why we bother trying to be "green" at all when there are so many others around us saying to hades with it all. Why try, why fuss, what's the point? Check it out on the New York Times page http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/magazine/20wwln-lede-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1 .

Each little step, each little action does add up.

I'm spending most of the afternoon digging around for some info after an interesting and entertaining conversation I had yesterday, while out for lunch with the Prime Geek. A vegetarian served us at the steakhouse.... and a wonderful exchange was born.

Later folks.


*The rain, the 30 degree temperature drop, and a back completly thrown outta wack.

Happy Earthday – Now, Go Away

Rather abrupt, I'll concede, but to the point as well. I've been wrestling with what I, as an aspiring environmental blogger, should post today.

Shopping lists of “eco-friendly” items to overhaul your life? Not really my style.

Ranting hysterics to force you to join the green wagon? Nah... you folks are reading this, I figure you might have a small idea things need some work.

Resolutions and reminders to overhaul your life? Nope. Everyone has to figure out their line in the sand themselves.

So instead, I'll go a little sideways. (You can't be really shocked at that choice!)

Do yourself, your family, your neighborhood, and the earth a favor today. Turn off the computer, switch off the lights, slip on some comfy shoes, grab a water bottle – reusable please – and go outside. No epic plans to be laid, no oaths sworn to “be better, do more, and this time... I mean it!”

Today, don't think about saving the world. Just go outside and enjoy it. Listen to the birds, enjoy the sunshine (or whatever the planet is tossing your way), maybe putter about for a bit.

Tomorrow there will be plans, lists, ideas. But today? Use Earthday to get back in touch with the world around you.

You need at least one “to-do” point on your list today? Fine... but only one.

Your responsibility today is this. Once you have your shoes on, find – a kite, a frisbee, a fishing pole, SOMETHING – and go make the acquaintance of this place we all call home.

Hard to get people passionate about saving something they only know the tiniest bit about.

Go on. Scoot.

I Have No Recollection Of Those Events, Senator

The day started out much like any other weekend – a purring cat sat curled contentedly atop the Prime Geek's head dozing in the sunshine, the raucous alarm on his phone waking me with a sudden lurch while leaving him snoring wrapped in his fuzzy blue blanket. Knowing we had to motivate with extreme prejudice this morning, I had set the alarm on its loudest shriek hoping it would cause HIM to be up first for our appointments of the day. Yet again this hope failed, but we did manage at last to straggle out of bed and, like a herd of stampeding tortoises we were off.

First our goal of passports was achieved, then a nice slow drive to a local health food to pick up the weeks fresh fruits and veggies. We stopped to see his father who was taking his weekend to work at the Boy Scout camp nearby – then followed that up with a duteous trip out with his mother for lunch and her weekly ramble through Best Buy to see if any new movies she might desire would be lurking on the shelf.

And there... well. There is where it all went a bit off the rails. I've been trying this month to keep from buying anything that wasn't a major life requirement – having joined the Crunchy Chicken's buy-nothing in April challenge. I'd been doing well... up until this afternoon.

I'd tell you all about it, the madness that overtook my nerdly soul (and the slightly hysterical giggles of the Prime Geek were unsettling for those around us) and the depths to which we have fallen. I could write reams regarding our downfall... but instead, I will leave you tonight with a short and to the point three word precise of what will be the rest of our weekend.

Naked Drunken Wii!

(Hey, we're married and the blinds are closed. Don't judge.)

Tribble Update

As the Prime Geek and I wandered out of the store late last night, clutching two boxes of razors, a few eye bolts (clothes line project to be address before this upcoming National Hang Your Laundry Outside Day on Saturday*), a giant yard candle, and two bags of candy tightly in our mitts – I realized the goal to not bring home those troublesome tribbles (plastic shopping bags) was becoming something ingrained into our day to day lives. With a last minute dash out to the store, we had waved away bags – large AND small – from a slightly confused cashier. Her “They're free... you sure you don't want one? How about just a little one? You sure?” followed us out the door as we simply divvied up the purchases and carried them out with us. It isn't even just me, the Prime Geek has begun to quip to tellers everywhere “No thanks, save a plastic tree!” and simply stuff purchases into his deep pockets – waving receipts in front of confused door greeters like a talisman to explain he really HAS paid.

Bags – canvas & string, bought & knitted are hanging from doorknobs, stuffed in the back of the Jeep, I even now carry multiples scrunched up in the bottom of my purse** ready to whip out and confuse and confound cashiers and bag packers everywhere. The main reason we were left carrying last night was the PG's precious lad – his jeep – is in for repairs following our little “incident” with the snowplow. I hadn't even considered getting a few to keep in the rental for the week and I had run out the door with the PG too quickly to grab much more than my sandals and my wallet.*** I fixed THAT little snafu this morning.

What? Do I still hear a few holdouts? I know I heard a groan over there in the corner. Bags are a pain to remember? It doesn't make a difference unless everyone is using them so why bother? You just forget?

Ahhh. But your kindly aunty Natural Nerd has a visual to help you all go out and grab your bags. Or at least the ones who have pets or even remotely like animals. Heck, I'm pretty sure with the next three paragraphs I can also get the easily grossed, the highly strung, and the neurotically tidy as well.

Thus far in the annals of this blog, I've posted pictures of three of our four girls. Pandora is up in the corner, Luna and Harlequin had their little love fest last week.... Bunny. Well, getting Bunny's picture is rough. Hard to take one in total darkness, and the ones I snap when she dares the light are too pitiful for words (the nickname of Bunny comes from her fraidy-cat nature and her Bunnicula tendencies. She even has two tiny fangs). Take it as read she's a cutie. While we're not completely insane over our girls, they are a HUGE part of the family. I've always had pets – dogs, cats, hamsters, the odd squirrel, etc. So has the Prime Geek, we always will have animals around us. I'm guessing there are a few animal lovers out there amongst you folks as well.

So picture along with me, you're sitting in your living room watching a new episode of Top Gear while eating a snack with your honey. Off in the distance, just at the edge of hearing... there is a strange “nom, nom, nom, nom,” and the crinkle of plastic. Annoying enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck rise just a tad... but is it worth getting up to investigate? Nah.... until it continues until the next commercial break. Sighing, you push yourself up and decide to see what the hellions you share your home with are up to. As you flick on the kitchen lights you see three startled and now slightly guilty looking cats – all with a side of a plastic bag in their mouths, well chewed and wet. With a yell, you scatter your troublemakers to three of the four winds and examine the bag they had found and dragged out. Scraggly, disgusting, wet... but no obvious pieces missing. All is well, you gingerly pick up the one non-chewed corner and toss the whole mess into the trash. No biggie, right? They have been doing the oral equivalent of popping bubble wrap since they were little and as long as you get it away from them in time, no real worries. The bags are no longer trickling in, and soon they won't be able to dig out anything to chew on. You secure the remaining bags and leave the room. All is well.

WARNING WARNING WARNING DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING IF EATING, EASILY NAUSEOUS, EASILY GROSSED OUT, OR CUDDLING A PET OF ANY DESCRIPTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Until the next morning when you are confronted by a puzzled but still purring fuzzball vainly trying to scratch an itch they can't reach – caused by the 2 feet of dirty, scat encrusted, strip of plastic bag handle hanging forlornly out of their nether region.

Still wanna bring home those plastic bags? Not enough? How about the horrible moment, when walked through it by a kindly vet on the other side of a telephone – you are instructed to grab an end and gently tug to see if it can come loose... but to stop if it looks like you might be going to pull out their intestines as well.

All came out well in the end, although visitors are confused to hear Harlequin referred to as Ripper (short for Ripcord) these days.

Gonna forget THAT little mental image when you bop out of the door without a bag?

Didn't think so.

Grab a bag before you go, and I won't ever make you read something like this again.



*Apparently everything gets a holiday these days.
**The real change is actually carrying a purse. Before, I just grabbed my cell, the keys, and stuck my wallet in my back pocket. Who knew it would be the Green efforts that would make me do something my mother despaired of every getting me to do.
*** Alright. And my yarn. I'm 9 hats into my 12 hat goal by the weekend.

Irritation Continuation

I'm semi-covered in dirt so my posting today will be brief (although tomorrow should be far more fun - I have thriving plant life! Pictures later.) but as I received a few private emails as well as a few comments regarding yesterdays temper tantrum I thought I should maybe address the concerns.

Nope, not pulling it down, don't care if it comes to the person in questions attention. If I had an issue about that, well. I would have simply written the blog, gotten over my seething, and simply erased it like all the previous ones.

Yup. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence who reads more then one or two "green" blogs will figure out the writer rather quickly - heck... my initial irritation ended with a comment posted on her blog regarding a decision to not actually research more then a moment before she posted. I'm not trying to start a war - I like to think I'm smarter then that. I'm also not so egotistical that I believe she's "picking on me" by her casual swipe of a premise she had first ridiculed. Do I think I really show up on the radar of a English citizen as someone to persecute? Nope. I think what drew my ire more at the time, was the common sense thought "If she's done it to me... I can't be the only one."

There is a sentiment that folks with a common goal should never publicly disagree, else we damage the group as a whole. To me that is nothing but hogwash. If I think someone, something, some idea is wrong or off... I'll call the person on it. Feel free to do the same thing to me, and who knows. Back it up with real information - not foot stamping "But its not NICE!" whines please - and I'm a bright enough lass to sometimes even look at a situation and say "Whoa. I'm wrong. Interesting concept. Nifty, I got a new view."* But to instead fall back on "not a real journalist" and sticking their fingers in their ears... or the one that REALLY bugged me - patronizing comments in my own work explaining I don't have the vast education you do to understand I'm being led by the nose....

Well. I tend a tad bit tetchy. Not enough to drag out the chainmail top and accept the standing invitation from Wodin to pick up a new side career... but tetchy none the less.

So thanks for the concern, I'm not too worried about fallout. If something DOES come about - shrug - I'll handle it. I have this little rule about material I write. Some of it might make me blush later, some things I may groan before admitting its mine... but I've never - never - written anything I won't stand next to with a certain degree of "Yes, its mine. What?"

Why haven't I pushed it onto her own site? I won't start a war of words, its her site, she can say whatever she dang well pleases.

Off to plant more spinach.





* Yup, I've even said just that sentance alloud in the middle of an argument. Nothing quite takes the wind out of the sails of an indignant argument as a fast capitulation and agreement. Mean... but fun!

Predictable Irritation

Only a rant today folks, as I have some Mile High Veggie Pie* cooking in the oven, a ton of chicken to get cooked for the week**, and a staggering pile of sewing to get finished else I run the risk of having to walk around far closer to starkers then I really prefer in the incoming spring and summer months. The mature part of myself is telling me to let the following go... that is doesn't really matter what another blogger is doing.

However, the childish and petulant side hasn't had its noontime nap and is threatening to drop applesauce into my keyboard if it doesn't get a chance to vent. I've decided to relent... then go
about trying to be productive the rest of the day.

I really try to check the facts of anything I post about here on my site. While the only thing I consider myself a professional is in my ability as a smart-ass, I'm aware the web is an insidious creature and you never know when some 8th grader is going to site your page as the basis for their “CRAP! My reports due tomorrow... what was it on again?” project. Thus – I double check. Heck, I'll even cop to the simple fact that as a bona fide nerd I even enjoy researching a topic I'm interested in. This is how nerdlings act. It is in fact what makes us nerds. So when a writer of another site – a much LARGER site, who is developing quite the following first criticizes my views, questions my intelligence and possible inability to understand I am being led astray, THEN lifts my statements and posts them as her own... well. I get a tad tetchy. However... other then a mild mini-tantrum over on a myspace page*** I decided to just let it go. She lives over the Atlantic, I'm never going to have to deal with her face to face... - deep cleansing breath in, sound of rippling brook keyed into the background, and breath out – I'm fine.

Mostly. Honestly, I'm trying to be the better person here. I kept my shriek of “WHAT!” to a moment when I could only be heard by the cats, kept outside voice based verbal kvetching to a minimum – IE my mother (also a writer) and my husband, and while I may have written a few dozen letters to her critiquing everything from her writing style to her possible family genealogy – they were never sent and I didn't so much as write a comment on her blog. Vented – then erased. Shoot, I even wiped that part of my hard drive when I got it out of my system. So far, I'm succeeding at being the bigger person.

Thus far. But now? Well, my trigger finger is itching, and I am reallllllyyyy trying to keep myself from finally sending a zinger or two to her site. She has developed a lovely tendency to write out little “eco-facts” into her blogs regarding the U.S. Charming, except she doesn't bother to check to see if they ARE facts, and when quietly informed she is wrong, decides to fall back on “I'm English, how could I be expected to know these thing about a country I've never been to?” Never admits she's wrong, mind you. Doesn't pull the facts.

When challenged, she claims to only write a tiny blog with a few readers, although in the next sentence she reveals she is now listed as one of the 50 most powerful bloggers. She says she isn't a journalist and shouldn't be expected to follow the same criteria.

Sorry. But if what you write is read by thousands everyday – you ARE a journalist. You do have responsibilities. Either accept that fact, or stop writing.

Urrrgh.



* While its a bit grudgingly, we are beginning to take a few small steps toward a slightly less meat based diet. A veggie pie made from cleaning out the fridge and some leftover Panera bread will be this week's lunch for the Geek and I.
**Less meat based yes, veggie no. So a few dozen chicken breasts are getting cooked as well and then shredded for quick meal options. Spring is here and I'm getting too dirty in the garden for long meal preps.
*** Yes. I have a myspace page. No drunken photo's (one as a giant squirrel, but that was for a job), no admissions of illegal use of substances, no sexy shots. Just a way to keep in touch with outta state friends. We have covered I'm a nerd... right?

One Small Step

Over the months I have been writing this blog, I think a few things about myself have probably become rather clear to all of you. I'm a person proud of my nerdy tendencies, I have a solid marriage with an equally twisted partner, and there are no doubt a few of you with solid ideas of the size of my Xena collection – just DVD's, thank you. I lost the action figures in the last move. In addition, I'm a big believer in the one small step philosophy of life. (My little meltdown the other day even alluded to my tendency and tenacity in viewing all things possible as long as you can keep moving.)

This code of conduct is even what started me on the path to writing this blog. I wanted to try and keep moving, making small steps each day towards a “greener” life. I know perfectly well that my grabbing a water bottle on my way out the door instead of buying a soda while out and about won't miraculously solve the trash problems in the country. In the same vein, my carrying canvas bags to the grocery won't cause an overnight reversal of the millions of plastic bags littering the sides of roads. One veggie meal a week won't cure animal abuses OR fix the hole in the ozone. I can't change everything... I can only make little changes in myself, and maybe convince (or nag, hey whichever works!) a few others to give it a shot as well. We didn't get to this place in the world overnight, we won't solve it that way either. So on I plod, hopefully making my trials, trails, and tribulations at least a tad amusing for you folks out there.

Somehow, in the stress of dealing with family hardships these last few months... I got a tad bit lost. I've spent a LOT of time hesitating with one foot held in the air completely at sea at where to set it down again. I think I started, well, thinking a bit too much and it threw a spanner in the works for awhile. Time to stop over analyzing and just start doing again. One foot in front of the other, I'll figure out the direction when I get there.

To that end? I can't do anything to help a little girl hours away fighting for her life. Can't really do much for her parents either. Right now, what has to happen there is happening without me... and while it sucks, its just the way it is. But, I can do one small step for other little kids. I've got a large stash of yarn and time on my hands... so time to take a small step. The picture below are the 2 ¾ preemie hats I've gotten finished for a Save the Children Drive today, and by the end of the next week I aim to have filled those two pegboards with at least a dozen. Can I save Gracie? No... and I can't save every child in need on the planet. But I can help a dozen get at least a bit better of a chance then they might have had without me. It isn't much, it's just one small step.

One nerd who's moving forward again.

Have a good night guys.

If anyone out there would like to contribute hats to the Save the Children organization, check out their VERY well put together site at www.savethechildren.org.uk . They even have a great downloaded able tutorial for newbie knitters. Wanna take one small step with me today?

Anybody Seen the Aleve?

Doesn't look like much, now does it? Hard to tell from a not-very good digital photo, but those two strips of dug up mud running alongside our front walk are my opening salvos in my attempt to slowly turn our lawn into a garden. Four hours of rather backstraining digging just to get it to that point – the next step of using the 'rents tiller will occur on the next nice day we have. My sore back and the blisters on the palms of my hands tell me that while the commercials all claim the garden claw is all you need, that's a pile of horse sh... Um. Compost.

Bit by bit, I'm going to rip out the front lawn and turn it into an edible oasis. The strips are getting planted with a mix of pansies (pretty, but more for their tastiness in tossed salads) and salad greens. I'm planting a small kitchen garden in the back, but with the huge oak tree taking up a third of our raised backyard there isn't a whole lot of sunshine to go around. Baskets will fill sunny spots on the porches, a large section of the Prime Geek's parents yard will be tilled in few weeks (I get a huge 20x90 swath to plant corn, squash, melons, and other sun lovers and get some of the bounty in exchange for losing a part of their yard they never even walk to. Sounds like a fair trade to me!), and there are even plans for window boxes for more herbs. We'll make the most of the postage stamp sized plot of land we have, just wait and see!

Now, for the question portion of this post. Any suggestions of what salad greens to mix in with the edible flowers? I'm trying to slowly introduce the food production side of yard “art” in an effort to stave off neighborhood complaints. While I don't mind being “those weird folks” on the block – the 7 foot tall Moai* statue the Prime Geek and I are planning to build and install in the center of the front lawn should prove that pretty clearly – I also don't want our dinner plans to be obviously waving at passer byers inviting them to snack.** I'm looking at greens that could, if you squint, be labeled as ornamental plants – pretty patches of green and purples, with varying heights and shapes.

Any suggestions? I know spinach (flat & curly) are going to be tossed in, mainly for the simple fact I could plant my whole lawn with the stuff and it wouldn't catch up to our recent intake! But I could use any hints or ideas you clever folk can come up with. Full sun worshiping plants are great (although I can tuck a few shade-dwellers in under our maple tree – make for quick snacks when I stretch out in a gardening break) and as we're in one of the few places in the country NOT suffering from drought, they don't have to be super drought tolerant. Frankly, anything will be easier on the environment than the water-sucking lawn I'm ripping out. (The idea of never having to start up the black cloud spewing monster of a lawn mower is also a pretty intense motivator.)

I don't care that the weather man is saying possible snow this weekend... Spring has finally SPRUNG!***




*The big glaring stone faces Easter island is famous for.
** While I don't care if a few curious kids nibble around the edges, the idea of folks too lazy to plant their own garden ripping things up by the root makes me nervous. Call me paranoid... but it IS a concern.
***Not quite the truth, I do care. The idea of any more snow makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry, frankly, but I'm trying to be a grownup and put a brave face on it. A petulant grownup, but a grownup nevertheless.

To Change The Mood

So as to not leave everyone else as bad tempered as I seem to be tonight, allow me to present this little slice into the Prime Geek and I's homelife.


On one hand, this could be titled "Wub, Twooo Wub*". But on the other... it's not the lesbianism I mind, really... its the incest that bothers me.
Trouble #2 & #3 sharing a moment of sisterly love.

Night folks. I'm going for a walk to clear my head.





*For the two people in the back looking confused, this is in reference to one of the best movies** of all time - The Princess Bride. Rent it at once if you have never seen it. Then buy it.

**Sadly however, one of the worst BOOKS of all time as well. Not every day the movie is world's better then the book, but in this case if you have never read it... don't. Just, don't.

Life Goes

Normal blog later tonight, but as I just got an update that kinda sideswiped me I'll just post this now.

In the last few hours Gracie's condition has taken a serious nosedive. At last report she's crashed 3x and completely flat lined at least once. Her ventricle is "locking up" whatever that means and the doctors can't figure it out. We've been hearing that a lot lately. She's had chemical burns from the medical tape to deal with - caused by an allergic reaction the doctor's don't understand. Blood infections (E. coli to be precise) from mysterious sources that have her doctors baffled. Born with a half a heart missing without any doctor noticing for the 10 months her momma carried her. Her heart has stopped, her lungs filled, and the doctors continue to be puzzled.

If I had known medical school was such a cake walk I woulda just gone that route instead of trying for an English degree. Apparently all you have to do is shake your head and tell people its a mystery and its just in God's hands and you get the fancy degree and a stethoscope to hang around your neck.

I know I'm being unreasonable, but at the moment I don't really care. I'm angry - pissed beyond measure over the pain this tiny little body has suffered, the anguish my cousin is feeling, and the absolutely crushing sense of helplessness as I, along with the rest of the family, stand around not being able to do a single damn thing about this. I don't do helpless well. My whole life has been based around taking the next step. Making the next move. Keep walking and you'll get through, nothing is too big to deal with if you just keep moving.

Just kinda hard to keep moving when the universe keeps dropping mountains on you.

Pray. Don't care to who, don't care how. Just pray.

As for me? I'm gonna sit really really still and try to not think the prayer that's swirling around in my head about how far can this be dragged before its too much to pile on an innocent little girl.

And.... We're Back.

Well. More or less. I'm holding onto the no doubt soon to be blasted hope that spring has finally well and truly sprung (I'm thoroughly ignoring the news which calls for snow showers on Saturday, childish but I do think it would make me weep to contemplate it.) as I'm staring outside a window at bright sunshine, actual blooming flowers, and the neighbors temperature wheel proudly proclaiming its 60' and well on its way to hitting the projected 70 the weather channel promised! I'd be planning on planting the seedlings that are beginning to devour the card table they are stacked on... if it wasn't for that nagging feeling about snow on Saturday. Perhaps the weekend after I can finally begin to really get into the garden.

It has been a busy week or so here at the nest. Good news all for the most part. Baby Grace has finally decided she likes it here and seems to be jolly well determined to stay at last. She's still in “critically stable” condition, but has been weaned off the ventilator as well as taken off her blood pressure medication. Still fragile, but fighting. Now... if I could only get her mother to stop putting those horrid ribbon rubber bands around her soft little head, it would all be roses. (Seriously. It won't be the scars that split her stem to to stern that will bother her... I just KNOW I'm gonna get an angry call from a livid teenager one day wanting to know why no one stepped in and got that thing off her head! To that future kid.. I'm trying, I swear I am.)

The hand is finally mending as well, which is all to the good as forcing this nerdling to sit without her knitting, her sewing, as well as the inability to type OR write makes for one seriously neurotic nerd. Someone suggested I finish up Meditation March and ease my fidgets that way.

Riiight.

I will confess I learned a few things thanks to Chile's challenge. Not as much as I may have hoped... but I think I will walk away in the long run with more then I realized. I do need to start finding time to quiet myself, both physically and emotionally. I can't run off of an empty tank forever, so its better to start figuring out how to fill it now... then find myself stranded in the desert with a crisis on my hands. I don't think I'm going to reach that point by chanting, becoming a yogi, or learning to transcend (kinda like this reality anyway)... but there are other ways to reach a quiet spot in my own head. Time to work on those.

In the meantime, things are gearing up to a high frenzy here. More on that tomorrow. At the moment this nerd is heading for her third long soak of a so-far short day.

Why? Simple enough. Sunday was gorgeous. Birds singing, bright warm sunshine. And a hand that finally – just that day – got cleared to go back to work. So, of course, being the well reasoned nerd I am, I spent the day moving about a ton of dirt from one part of my lawn to another in readiness of the gardening season. Moderation? What's that? I have well trenched lines in my front yard now, all ready for my pansies to go in (pretty... but planted more for the tastiness when added to salads).

But now, my back would like a few words with me on subjects ranging from misuse and inappropriate movements.

See you tomorrow.