Monday, July 27, 2015

It Has Begun

     Canning/freezing season has finally begun in our household! In order to keep the momentum, and still keep up with the upcoming vacation and ten million other plans, we are going to have to keep to a very strict picking and canning schedule around here.


     We began with peas and raspberries this weekend. This was actually suggested by Bearded Man, and seemed like a good idea. So, packing our four kids, plus a spare kid (Lexi's friend who spent most of the weekend with us) we were off.


     Let me stop right here. We need to backtrack just a tiny bit. We need to discuss Facebook. My little sister, who is having the worse luck in the entire world right now, was mournfully talking about how awful things were compared to looking to see what her friend's Facebook posts were like. It only made her MORE depressed, to see these perfect people, with perfect lives, and no problems, as they smiled into the camera during yet another fun filled perfect family trip/or whatever the prefect family happens to be doing.
    
     I told her it's generally NOT real. I COULD have been "that" mom. I COULD have lined all my happy kids up (plus the spare kid) in front of the beautiful fields full of bountiful goodness, in the summer sunshine. I COULD have snapped the picture and posted it with caption and fourteen hashtags. "Berry Picking!" #Summer #eatingright #bountifulgoodness #countryliving #prepingforwinter. yada yada yada.


     What REALLY happened was: The kids fought for approximately half an hour before we left, over who was going to sit where in the van. After they settled on a place for everyone, the threats, barbs, insults and snide comments commenced on the way to the berry patch. Bearded Man announced he hates picking peas, and decided to pick raspberries instead. He took Lexi, her friend, and George up to the berry patch. I took Kaila and Joe to the pea patch.
     Within minutes, we were sweaty. Our legs and backs hurt, from bending over to dig for peas. Kaila could not possibly pick many peas,  because there were pricker plants around her row. Joe was disgusted with the entire process, and announced there must be a more efficient way to do this miserable job, and why wasn't there an invention for this yet?
     Lexi, her friend and George came down from the berry patch, and Kaila and Joe went up to trade spots. Everyone hated the entire process. George ended up in the van. Followed by everyone else. Joe went to the roadside stand to sing his tale of miserable woe to the owner of the farm.
     Bearded Man finally came down with his berries. Half a box. I was informed there were more, but he had probably eaten about half of them.


     Memories and stuff. We took the kids home, fed them, and went swimming.


     By Saturday evening, about 4 million pounds of peas were shelled and in the freezer, and by noon on Sunday, 12 small jars of raspberry jam was made.
     Lexi's friend was still with us, and asked to help too. She was SO impressed. "Wow. You are the coolest mom! I wish MY mom did this kind of thing! What else are you going to do?" So, all excited I said we were going to do MORE raspberries, try to get the fall strawberries, do blueberries, corn, green beans and peaches. And, if I could get over my fear of the pressure cooker, tomatoes. Also, we had ordered a pig for late fall.


     "A PIG???!!!! TO EAT??? Right now, there is a poor little pig that is alive and happy and doesn't know you are going to KILL it and EAT it???" She accused me in horror.


      "Well, I am not going to kill it. Someone ELSE is! We won't even see poor little Wilbur alive!"


     "WILBUR??? You NAMED IT?????!!!!!!" She gasped.


     "Mom" said Lexi tearfully, "You know I just decided this summer that pigs are my favorite animal. I cannot eat pig."


     "Lexi. you just ate HAM for dinner last night."


     Lexi and her now unimpressed friend proceeded to leave the kitchen in righteous indignation.


     In preparation for Wilbur, we went and looked at larger freezers this weekend. Where there may have been startled sales persons, as Bearded Man announced (loudly) that chest freezers could be great for bodies. The upright freezers would be more work, as one would have to cut them up first. (If I am ever missing, please check my freezer, okay?)




     Anyhow. It is now Monday again, and, it's a relief to leave the chores at home and come to the relative break of work.


     I should mention that Joe did indeed survive Scout Camp. We arrived to find him covered head to foot in bug bites, and his voice hoarse from all the shouting Scouts are supposed to do. He was exhausted and ready to come home, but, once again had a wonderful week at Scout Camp.
   
     "Mom." he confessed, "You know how you just bought me a new Scout Shirt last week for camp?"


     "yes"


     "I think I might have lost  it my first day here. I think it may be over by Sports somewhere. Not sure."


     "UUUGGHH. Okay. It's okay Joe. We'll get you a new one."


     "My stomach was literally quite sick about it."


     "It's all good Kiddo. I only beat people on Tuesdays, so, you're fine."


     The shirt, by the way, was found exactly where he pretty much left it, and he can't wait to go again next year.


    Bearded Man bought himself a boat this weekend.


     He has wanted a small fishing boat for some time now, and, on the premise of going to the Vet to pick up a prescription for the dogs, left Saturday morning, and came home with a small boat. That he just "happened" to stumble across. It was practically throwing itself at him. He was going to name it "Little Dinghy" but, I like "I Can't Swim" better, so, the name of the boat is up in the air at this point. I want to be on the bank of Case Lake watching, the first time he takes it out. He's been riveting and caulking it all weekend.


 Anyhow, that's all the excitement here. This week, I am determined to go blueberry picking, to keep on my self imposed canning/freezing schedule. I can only imagine the horrors my children will perceive this to be. builds character and all that.


  

Thursday, July 23, 2015

No Bible For You!

     As all things in my poor Little Sister's life, nothing is without complications. Purchasing a vehicle was not complication free. To be fair; is purchasing a vehicle EVER complication free?


     Anyhow, as per the last post, my sister's vehicle was totaled in an auto accident on her way to my house, and she was in need of a new one.
     Our brother, Ben, aided Brianna in her quest, taking her to a small local dealership that advertises "SoandSo's Used Autos and Bible Counseling" where Bri acquired a used Nissan Rogue. Which may or may not be brown, grey, or, purple, depending on which light it is viewed in.
     Ben had utilized this dealership several times over the years, and had always had good interactions with no issues with either the dealership or the vehicles he purchased.
 
     Last evening, I went to visit my sister. The following conversation took place, as we sat in her garage staring at the new vehicle, before dropping it off at the dealership for yet MORE work on it:


Bri: "You know what Ben told me?"


Me: "What?"


Bri;  " He said that everyone who buys a car from the "Used Auto Dealership and Bible Counseling" place, gets a bible in the glove box."


Me:  "WHAT?"


Bri  "No! Really!"


Me  "I didn't know that."


Bri  "Well. I didn't get a bible. And, I had the WORST experience. They wouldn't even do the car registration paperwork. They handed it to me and were really rude and told me to take all the papers to the DMV and do it myself!"


Me: 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! YOU DIDN'T GET A BIBLE???"


Bri: "NO! And, they said that they had worked on the brakes and done an oil change and all this stuff - and they DIDN'T! AND, I didn't get a bible! Why didn't I get a bible?"


Me: "I don't know."


Bri:  "When I took the car there for an oil change, I heard 'Everybody should read the bible!!!!!' and then everybody dropped everything, whipped out bibles, and started reading and discussing their bibles! I was over here like 'ummmm, could we maybe wait till AFTER my oil is changed...?'"


Me: "WAIT. WHAT??? They just stopped and read their bibles?!"


Bri: "YES! Like, all random! EVERYBODY in the whole place that worked there!"


Me:  "I've never heard anything like it."


Bri:  "Ben had a theory, when I told him there was no bible. Oh! I didn't get an owner's manual, either. So, now I have to Google everything I need to know about my car... Anyway, Ben had a theory."


Me:  "Oh boy. What?"


Bri  "He said that I came to the dealer ship dressed all in black, because that's what I have to wear for work, wearing makeup and my piercings, and my hair dyed, and they probably figured I was too far gone to need  a bible."


Me:  "HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Well. Actually, that makes THEM bad, not you. Why would you only give bibles to people that seem like they are decent. If anything, if a person is judging another person on how they present, and figures them too far gone, when, if they are all judgy to begin with, then, THOSE are the people that need them the MOST, then, that makes THEM bad, not you."


Bri: "Well. I don't know. I would have been pretty happy if I just could have gotten an owner's manual."


Me: "HAHAHAHA!!!! No bible for YOU!"


Bri: "Maybe they just ran out, or don't give them out anymore?"


Anyhow, my poor (bible-less) sister is without her vehicle once again, as it is off getting fixed again.


Speaking of all things holy and not: The neighbor kid and George have discovered a "Monster Cat" the neighbor kid, Carter, demonstrates Monster Cat every time he talks about it, by twisting his head as far around as possible. Because, apparently, Monster Cat has creepy eyes, and can spin it's head all the way around. Monster Cat simultaneously terrifies and fascinates both George and his buddy, Carter.


Also, Sunday School begins in just over a month. I have yet to form one single lesson plan. Also, it will consist of 7th AND 8th grades this year.


Back to George for a moment here: He is in his glory while Joe is away at Scout Camp. Only last night, George and his buddy Carter were on the porch having a snack.


"I think I will sleep in Joe's bed again tonight. He's gonna be SO. MAD. when he comes back and finds out I slept in his bed all week!"


"He's still gone, George? Let's go upstairs and jump on it!!!!"


"OKAY!!!!"


"Maybe we can get him to stay at Scouts for one extra sleep!"


"Mom? Can you leave him there longer?"


"No, George."


Also this summer, my five year old, in addition to the ability to jump his bike over ramps for the last 2 years, is now able to coast while standing on the cross bar, is able to coast while standing on one peddle, to the side of the bike with both feet, and, is currently learning how to ride with no hands. Further: It is almost impossible for anyone in the family to keep up with him on a bike.




I would also like to mention that: it is nearing the end of July, and I have yet to can or freeze one single item. Not one. It isn't looking hopeful, either.


I haven't received any phone calls to the otherwise, so, presumably Joe has survived Scout Camp yet again. We get to go pick him up tonight. I can't wait to hear the stories!


Back to work! Till next time!

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Arguing With The Minivan

     The minivan and I continue to get to know each other. It's been forced, really, because it seems as if we are always together, hurtling toward the next destination. Also, there are lots of upcoming road trips, so, we really need to get along.


     This past weekend alone saw hours of driving, for two very different weddings, in two very different locations, each approximately two hours from home, and in opposite directions.
 
     Thus far, it drives like a champ, and continues to contain everything we need to haul along with us conveniently, while fitting the kids in relative comfort. Once they finish arguing over who gets to sit in the middle row. Also, it was recently used for a target, as George figured out how to fling things with a spoon, and proceeded to practice, by covering the entire driver's side of poor Huckleberry in mud. A thing I did not realize, until I was getting ready to run to the store for last minute 4th of July items. I screeched to a halt next to my van in amazement. And correctly assumed which kid was responsible. A side trip to the car wash found me standing behind a guy at the change machine, waiting my turn.


     "Wow, Lady! You go mudding in that thing?"


     "I have no idea what happened to it. My kid is responsible."


     "Teenagers. I feel for ya. Looks like they had a good time. No respect these days."


     "He's FIVE."


     "Wow. Good luck with that."


     *Sigh.*


Anyway, flinging mud with a spoon soon became flinging pebbles with a spoon, which became teaching Joe how to do it, which became Joe teaching his cousin how to do it, which became my sister's shattered back car window, as a pebble hit it just right on a hot day with the windows up. My sister's car evidently was not impressed, and was actually totaled a week later, as she was headed to my house. I'm not saying her car DELIBERATELY totaled itself, so that it didn't have to be at my house ever again, but.....


     Back to poor Huckleberry. The van was scrubbed off, and even vacuumed out, and seems to be relatively okay. Except, it has this Bluetooth phone feature. In which I push this magic button on the steering wheel and this pleasant voice tells me it is ready for phone calls. (Side note here. I am an LPN TCT - Telehealth Clinical Technician. My JOB is to handle all things computer and technical. My neighbor set this up for me...) Anyhow, magic button, pleasant voice, etc. I can command it to call whomever I want. And usually, we are in a good mood, and it repeats the name, and then calls it. Seriously. My kids think it's the most amazing thing EVER.


     Sometimes, though, I am pretty sure the van is in a bad mood. "Please say a command!" it will say.


     "Call Lexi."


    "Call 90?"


     "No. Call LEXI"


     "Call 8097?"


     "HAHAHAHA! NO! CALL. LLLEEEEXXXIIII!"


     "Call Bri?"


     "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! NO! PLEASE! Call LHEXSEE"


     "Call 47152?"


     "Never mind."


Normally, it's all pretty funny, and we have all laugh over it. Except yesterday. Evidently, the van and I were both in a bad mood at the same time. I was late leavening work, had a splitting headache, and was late getting the boys to their baseball award ceremony.


     "Please say a command!"


     "Call Kaila."


     "Call The Law?

     "No. Call Kaila."


     "Call 7624?"


     "No! Call Kaila!"


     "Call Wendy Brown?"


     "NO! PLEASE! CALL KAILA."


     "Call 90?"


     "NO DAMMIT!!! CALL. KAILA NOW!!!!!!!!"


     "Call Mom?"


     "NO! DON'T CALL MY MOM! CALL MY KID!!! CALL KAILA!!!!!!'


     "Call 42?"


     "I SWEAR TO GOODNESS YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF AND CALL KAILA RIGHT. NOW!!!!!!!!!"


     "Call Jasin?"


     "I hate you. You know it, don't you."


And, it hung up and stopped talking.


     "FINE. MAKE me break the law! I will CALL Kaila FROM MY PHONE, and it will go strait to you, and you will HAVE to play it thru the speakers! HA!" ...... "OMG. I am arguing with my vehicle. And I think it won."


Anyhow. The boys got to their award ceremony - Bearded Man, alerted to my bad mood, took them, and I took a nap.


     I think the next big adventure in the van will be to the Color Run 5k in Buffalo in only a few short weeks. Which I have not trained for. At all. Between the cold I had for a month, and the rain, and sleep; I haven't walked much at all. Let alone run anyplace. I really need to get back to work on this whole moving thing. I am in no shape currently, to hike up those mountains in October. I have a patient who has all these medical problems, and is trying to become a member of the "46 Peaks" Club; people who have hiked up all 46 Adirondack peaks. He and his wife come in all the time, to ask how I am doing with the training. And then laugh at me. Ah well. We'll worry about it in October.


     Speaking of people laughing. I got another pedicure the other day. I totally treated myself to a mani/pedi before all the weddings of last weekend. The nail place is seriously across the road from where I work. However, the entire street is closed and torn up, due to construction, so, getting across the street takes some serious planning and time. I was 5 minutes late. I was waved irritably toward a pedi chair, where I hopped up and looked around. Confident women everywhere, on their phones, looking like they knew what they were doing, and completely ignoring the people working on them. I don't know what the proper protocol is. Do you talk? Do you not talk? Do you watch? Do you not watch? Do you play with the buttons for the massage chair, or don't you, because, if you don't have any idea how it works, then you just look like an idiot. "Moriah. You will NOT apologize for gardening in your bare feet. You. Will. NOT!" Was the mantra going thru my head, while I sat there uncomfortably, wondering what I was supposed to do while another human was doing wonderful things to my feet.
     "I am so sorry. I garden in my bare feet. I am sorry. Ummm." To the confused look of the man at my feet. "Anyway. Ummm. Sorry."


     "You want design on toes? Flowers?"


     "YES! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" Followed by rapid Chinese and mutual laughter with the co worker next to him.


While I was there, another lady came in, and ended up in the chair next to mine. "I want a pedi. A FULL one. With the wraps and scrubs and towels." Stuck her feet in the tub, and began to play with the massage chair buttons. And it went terribly wrong, and she began to get bumped up and down, jiggling all over, her feet splashing in the tub, while pretending none of this was happening, as she frantically tried to stop it. I was SO relieved I skipped the massage chair buttons.


     An hour and a half later, I was finished. My nails were perfect, and I left a really nice tip.


     As far as canning and freezing things: Nothing has happened. I missed strawberry season, and I am this close to missing pea season. Every weekend is just so jam packed, that the time to do all this just isn't there. This is me: wanting canned and frozen awesomeness, and not particularly caring that I haven't done it. So sad.


     This upcoming week, Joe will be at Scout Camp. It is supposed to rain nearly every day. Either Joe will love every manly minute of it, or, he will accuse me of hating him. It could go either way, really.
     Joe came storming home from the neighbor's the other evening just stewing. "Mom. I just got FIRED! By TWO FIVE year olds! AND called names! All because I told them they need to lower the prices on their rocks!"


     "WHAT?" (Side note. I had to get a professional mani/pedi, because my kids, and the neighbor kids, have spend the entire summer using my nail polish to paint rocks.)


     "They are taking rocks, putting approximately three dabs of nail polish on them, and trying to sell them for too high prices. The cheapest is a tiny stone for TEN DOLLARS! And, they have a chunk of concrete for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!"


     "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, Joe."


     "Fine. I am going to paint MORE rocks, and sell them cheaper, and make MORE money, because they won't sell ANY!"


    To date, no rocks have actually been sold...


Also, my new front garden is really filling in. I had planted lots and lots of bulbs, flowers and roots, and things are growing. Including pumpkins. Mother's Day weekend, I stopped at one of my favorite green houses, along with some of the kids. The kids were taken to this sweet little area, to plant flowers and seeds for their Mamas. George chose pumpkins as his seeds, and, planted three of them. And then proceeded to take EXCELLENT care of them in their little cup. And they SPROUTED. So, he planted them. Right in my new front garden. He was so very proud of himself. And, they are taking off beautifully. I grin every single time I see them, poking underneath the Black Eyed Susans.


That is the summer at our house to date. It's only going to get busier!












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