Here is something that is positive. Fun, romantic and creative….I saw it this morning from my d-i-l’s facebook posting. It made my day!  It has gone viral, you may already have seen it, but I just have to post it.

I love that the parents of the couple seem to be included, as well as many other family members. How wonderful! I would bet that this couple will be very happy! Congratulations to them!

The holiday weekend ended up being much busier than I had anticipated. Here I had hoped for quiet and boring. I got a trip, a movie, and a dangerous experience instead.

When he was young, Merle’s family used the Memorial Day weekend as a time to honor the family members who had died. They visited the cemeteries and cleaned up the graves, sometimes even picnicking at a park nearby. He and I have tried to visit his parents’ graves each Memorial Day now that they are gone.

This Saturday, we took a trip (about three hours) to my aunt and uncle’s who live near the place where my dad, his wife, and my grandparents are buried. We had a nice visit with my aunt and uncle. Talking with him reminded me a lot of my dad. The cemetery is in a very small Norwegian church yard high in the river bluffs. In that area, they call the valleys that run between the bluffs “coulees”. Just as we drove off from the church, a very violent thunderstorm rolled through the area. The coulee had water running down the side roads. So we crossed the equivalent of several small streams, with dirt and mud running in the water. The lightning was fierce. Merle commented later that the thought went through his mind that if we were struck by lightning and killed, everyone would assume that my dad had something to do with it. “Man visiting grave of father-in-law is killed while driving away”-that was the headline he imagined upon our demise. Perhaps my dad didn’t like the roses that we left at the grave, who knows what could happen?

We made it down the bluff and were then driving through very hard rains in the small city nearby. It was raining so fast and so hard that there were flash floods along the roads. We had to go through at least two intersections with knee-deep water. Drivers in four-wheel-drive vehicles would race past us, shooting a wake of water up over our windshield so that we were blinded. It was white-knuckled driving to be sure.

Once we were through that city, the weather calmed down. We then started back toward home via the scenic route. It truly is one of my favorite drives with the bluffs on one side, and the river on the other. Merle’s aunt is buried in a little town along that road. So we stopped and spent some time at her grave, leaving some roses there as well. I am pretty sure that Aunt Grace would have like the roses. Merle’s grandparents are also buried there. He found his great-grandparents grave markers as well. He knew that they were there, but had not found them until then.

When we got back to the city, we visited Merle’s parents’ graves. This is a big city cemetery. They make a big deal out of Memorial Day, with a huge ceremony on Monday. We usually try to go on Saturday to avoid the crowds. We were able to leave some roses there as well. There are many well known people buried in this cemetery, and there are many areas with markers for soldiers from many wars. Why do we have so many dead soldiers, anyway?

We were exhausted when we returned from that trip. I am not religious, and have no particular belief of a heaven or afterlife, but I do like the idea of remembering loved ones. It just feels right to show the respect and love for them, and it is interesting to see the markers of those family members we never met.

On Sunday, we did a lot of work in the yard. It was very hot and very humid here, so working in the yard took a lot of determination. The mosquitoes were horrible. Merle put a craigslist ad online for a boat he is selling (anyone want a boat that isn’t running?), so we had people contacting him, and stopping to see it all day. By the time we went to bed last night, I was bitten, sweating, and dirty. I was glad that Monday was a day off work.

Today, we took my mom out to lunch and then to the movie “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”. I don’t think my mom enjoyed it very much. She may have had trouble understanding the British accents. I enjoyed it. The portrayal of India seemed fairly accurate. It was dirty, crowded, colorful, chaotic, and teeming with life. It is not high on my travel list, but I can see how some people would enjoy it. My mom and Merle both said that they would never want to visit India. I read the book that the movie is based on, and the story in the book is better than the movie. Both were enjoyable.

A long weekend. It did not turn out like I had anticipated, but it was wonderful.

Friday seems like it was long ago. I only wish that Tuesday was also far away.

Merle loves cows.

Not dairy cows. He loves beef cattle.

We are the proud owners of 5 head of cattle. There are four all-black Angus and one red-and-white Hereford in our little herd.

Hereford Calf
Image from Wikipedia

 

Angus cattle
Image from Wikipedia

All of them are females. Two of the Angus are the mothers of the two younger Angus. We bought the Hereford at an auction at a ranch in  Oklahoma last fall.

The two young Angus and the Hereford are heifers-they have never given birth to a calf. The two older Angus are cows, because they have already given birth.

It is now time for the two Angus cows and the Hereford heifer to become pregnant. Cattle are pregnant for about the same time as humans. So, new calves would be born in March if they become pregnant in June.

Merle has worked with beef cattle for many years. He has managed a very well-known herd for over 20 years. But this is the first time that he is managing his own herd. He is having a grand time. He has the opportunity to do things his own way.

He doesn’t want to do things in the “standard” way. No, we are on the cutting edge here.

When the three new calves are born next June, if all goes as planned, all three little calves will be pure-bred Herefords. That means that a pure-bred all black Angus cow will give birth to a red and white purebred calf. The Hereford will also give birth to a purebred Hereford calf.

Merle also purchased frozen embryos at the cattle auction. These were started and then frozen after 7 days of development.

Next June, we should have a herd of four all black Angus and four red and white Herefords. I am not sure what his plan is from there.

But I am now a part-time farmer.

In order to get the animals ready for an embryo, there is a procedure which requires shots and a regimen of hormones. This requires the cattle to be moved into a chute so that they can be handled safely-for both the cattle and the person.

This is close to what the chute looks like that we use.
Photo from Wikipedia

Herding cattle who are loose in a farmyard and forcing them into a narrow, single-file chute is a tricky business. I have done it in the past, when I was young, quick and nimble. Merle can’t do it all by himself. He needs a good assistant. He’s stuck with me.

I am no longer young, definitely not nimble and would never be described as quick. I have bad knees. I am out of shape.

But I am a part-time farmer, right? And I am a wife. You do things for the one you love. Even this. So that is what I do-twice now.

Over the past few days, we have received 5 inches of rain. Picture a dirt farmyard where cows have been living for many years. Now add 5 inches of rain, five 1000 pound four-legged animals who are not potty-trained.

Now picture me-the old, slow, crippled up lady-trying to assist Merle in convincing these large uncooperative animals that they really do want to be in a small, narrow space where they know that they will be stuck with a needle.

Not a pretty picture.

When doing this, you must wave your arms, yell at them, move toward them quickly to make them move away from you. It is often necessary to change direction quickly to cut them off from their attempted escape. In soft, squishy “mud” about four inches deep.

I tripped.

I tipped.

It happened in slow motion, and I prepared myself. I yelled at Merle. The ground was coming toward me as I stumbled and struggled to bring my feet under control.

Somehow I caught myself at the last moment and did not land face down in said dirt, rain water and sh*t mixture. I have no idea what saved me.

The things we do for our spouses.

But those newborn calves are going to be sooooo cute!

And Merle will be very happy.

Rain, rain…..and more rain.

Over the past two days, we have had about 5 inches of rain.

Things are very green, spectacularly lush, in fact.

But there is one HUGE downside to living in the rainforest that is my neighborhood……

Mosquito-the scourge of humanity.
Image from Wikipedia

It is guaranteed that as the refreshing rains encourage the lush greenery and flowers, they also will foster mosquito nurseries. We will soon be hiding in our home from dusk until dawn.

We have not found anything that will successfully repel these disease-carrying, blood-thirsty demons. Can you hear the high-pitched sound that begins just before dusk each day? That is the sound of mosquitoes laughing at us as we smear chemical repellant all over our bodies.

The tiny monsters squeeze themselves through the finest mesh of window screens.  In the dark quiet of a bedroom, humans have been known to go mad as they attempt to locate the source of the high-pitched whine of a single mosquito.

When we hosted an outdoor party for a friend, we rented an electronic bug zapper, and borrowed a new-fangled machine that emitted a chemical repellant. The party broke up within 10 minutes of dusk as the guests ran for cover in their cars as the swarms of mosquitoes descended on the backyard in anticipation of a human blood feast.

We live on the edge of a small woods, along a major river. We fight moles, mice, deer, woodticks, box elder bugs, Japanese beetles, voles, creeping charlie, bats and other miscellaneous wild things for control of our home.

But nothing compares to the mosquito.

The sun set a few minutes ago. You can find me in the house.

When I wrote about my gardening, I failed to fully explain the source of my frustrations.

Last fall, I became very energetic. I envisioned a spectacularly colorful garden, filled with flowers this spring. I planted approximately 90 bulbs for spring flowers in a small garden plot. Surely, this would live up to my dreams of a beautiful backyard garden.

Here is what my garden plantings looked like this spring:

These are the beautiful, colorful tulips that bloomed this spring. In my dreams…..

Munched off right at ground level.

Apparently, tulips are a  delicacy-for deer. Nearly every plant was bitten off right to ground level before they were able to bloom. Out of the nearly 90 bulbs I planted I ended up with nine-yes 9-tulips that actually bloomed. Any visions of a beautiful spring garden were popped by the reality of a garden that looked a lot like the history-book photos of the cities which were bombed during World War II.

After that, it has taken me a while to recover my gardening energies. I am only now beginning to feel that I will again venture toward an attempt at a summer garden. We have no plans for this upcoming holiday weekend. I envision much planting of annuals, in flower pots and in the garden.  What a fool I am!

The one saving grace for the spring was the crab tree that is in our front yard. It was covered in bright hot-pink flowers a few weeks ago. This year was a truly spectacular bloom. It seems to have a biennial cycle of blooming strongly one year, then not nearly as wonderfully the next year. This is the treat we had this year for several days:

Unfortunately, it blooms for just a few days, then becomes nearly devoid of leaves for the rest of the summer.

The other bright spots this spring have to do with family events. We have had two graduations within the past two weeks. My nephew graduated with an MBA from a small college in Illinois. Our son graduated with an MPA (Master’s of Public Administration) from a relatively small college near us.

It was interesting to listen to the speakers and contrast the messages in the graduation ceremonies. My nephew’s ceremony was pretty traditional (and very Catholic). “Go now and meet your future” would describe the theme. My son’s graduation (which included MPA, MFA, MBA and MEd degrees) was very focused on doing good in the world. “Go forth and change the world for the better” best describes that ceremony’s theme. I prefer the second message to graduates.

My mom, brother and I drove to the Chicago area for my nephew’s graduation. My sister and her family drove up from the Chicago area and stayed with us this past weekend for my son’s graduation. It has been a lot of family time lately, with Mother’s Day in between the two graduations. I am really looking forward to a weekend with nothing much scheduled for three whole days. I am already dreaming of this and it is only Monday night.

So now I will make another try at the flowers. I will devote at least one day of the upcoming weekend to that endeavor, futile as it may be.

On another day, we will likely make the rounds to the family cemetery plots, to pay respects, place some flowers and visit some other family members.

There will be a day of reading, or maybe writing a bit. I haven’t felt much like doing either lately. But I definitely need some stories.

We have nothing planned for the weekend. And that is just the way I want it.

It never fails. Right around this time every year, I begin to feel the old urges coming on.

I try to fight them. But it is very difficult. All around me, it seems the world is plotting against me. It’s so hard to resist the temptations. The stores are filled with samples, small but promising, providing a glimpse of a wonderful future filled with wonder if only I purchase these for just a minimal fee. Books and magazines flaunt the porn of this obsession. In every neighborhood there is someone who shares my affliction.

Months ago, it was much easier. I promised myself I would be strong. I told myself over and over that I could do it. Even after all of the years of failure, I really thought I could do it this time….just like the last 10 times.

It is always the same.

Those who share my struggle will recognize it. Yet there is no 12-step program designed for us. No sponsors. We are on our own to fight it.

Each year I convince Merle to help me, and every year he gives in when I break down. He knows he wouldn’t be able to talk me out of it. He gave in again this time and was with me when I lost the fight this week. My husband becomes an enabler, and turns a blind eye to the money that he knows I will spend to feed this sickness; even encouraging my hope that this time things will be different.

It would all make sense if only the rush would last a little longer. That is part of the problem-I always forget how things end. In the beginning, I start out with high hopes. Visions of success fill my head, a dizzying array of color and design swim before my eyes. Not even the sure knowledge of the physical pain that will inevitably result in the aftermath of the binge can restrain me as once again I give in to this disease.

Within just a few weeks, I will lose the buzz, I will find the requirements necessary to keep it going to be boring and time-consuming. Then my guilt will kick in. The evidence of my neglect will be everywhere, its haunting presence mocking those early optimistic dreams. It always ends badly.

They say that the first step toward healing is to admit that you have a problem.

My name is chlost, and I try to be am a gardener.

News.

Family news.

It was not unexpected; only the timing was in question.

Well, that’s not quite accurate. We weren’t completely sure what would happen, but had wondered, assumed, even hoped.

And finally!

After three years, we received a call from our daughter last night with the news that she is engaged!

Her birthday was on Monday. We had talked to her earlier in the day, after her day had begun with a birthday breakfast gone wrong. Her fiance (!) had cut his thumb while preparing a special breakfast. They ended up in the emergency room while he received 6 stitches.

She had taken the day off from work, but had a late rehearsal that evening. When she returned home, he had a fire going, and a bottle of wine to share. He proposed while they enjoyed both.

I am very excited about the prospect of being the mother of the bride. This is our only daughter. This will be my first opportunity to help plan a wedding in a relatively leisurely fashion. They are thinking of a wedding next summer.

Of course, all day I had ideas whirling through my mind.

Other than an outdoor wedding for as many friends and family as possible, they have not decided anything. They have a choice of three cities-ours, his parents, and theirs.

Yippee! Such fun!

At least I have a few months to try to lose some weight!

Today I washed my car.

I am now a better person than all of you who do not have a clean car.

For some reason, when my car is all shiny and clean, I begin to notice all of the other cars around me. Ugh! That one sure hasn’t been washed….. Whoa! That one on the other side of the street is so dirty that I can barely tell what color it is….. And the one over there-that one is so covered with road dust that a kind passerby has drawn a smiley face on the back, accompanied by the universal dirty car message “Wash Me!”

Yes, I am definitely a better person than the owners of those cars. No question.

When I got my car washed, I also had the oil changed.

It was a package deal.

So not only do I have a clean car, I have a car that is running very smoothly. For some reason, just changing the oil in the car makes it run better.

Don’t try to tell me it isn’t.

You are not driving it. I can tell. I am sure that it is running much better than it was earlier today.

Of course, with 180,000+ miles on the car, a thing like clean oil obviously will make a difference.  Right?

Just let me revel in this for a few hours. Humor me.

Tomorrow I am heading out for a road trip to Chicago with my brother and my mom. Luckily, my brother will probably do most of the driving.  After the trip, there will be over 1,000 more miles on the car.

And it may not be so clean.

Today as I was driving home, I heard an NPR piece on the Norwegian Murder trial. You remember the case. This was the guy who put bombs around the city of Oslo, then took a boat out to an island where young people attended camp. He does not deny that he killed all of these young people. He claims that he did it to save Norway from the immigrants, Islam and multiculturalism. His spewing of hatred and intolerance is evil incarnate (as well as a large dose of crazy).

The people of Norway have been faced with the question, “How do we respond to the horrific hatred spewed by the person who has admitted to murdering and wounding hundreds of our children?”

The defendant in the case, Anders Breivik testified at his trial that he hates the multiculturalism he sees in the Norwegian culture. He is especially offended that children are being raised to be inclusive of those different from themselves. In particular, he indicated his hatred for a song taught to school children. The song is a modified version of a Pete Seeger song, My Rainbow Race. The Norwegian version, Children of the Rainbow, is  translated by Reuters as follows, according to the NPR website:

“A sky full of stars

“Blue ocean far as you see

“An earth where flowers grow.

“Can you wish for more?

“Together we shall live

“Every sister, every brother

“Small children of the rainbow

“And a fertile soil”

….

“But tell all the children

“Tell your father, tell your mother

“This is our last chance

“To share one hope, one world”

Scary stuff, to be sure.

So, 40,000 people stood outside in the cold and rain of Oslo, as well as all over the country, sang the children’s song.

They have chosen to use music and love to taunt the evil of hatred and violence.

Here is the video of the Oslo gathering. It brought tears to my eyes.

 

This makes me very proud to be a descendant of Norwegian immigrants to the US.

Two migraines in three days.

I’ve had enough.

When I get the little bright spot in my line of vision, I know that I’m done for. Nothing will stop it, I am going to be miserable for at least the rest of that day, usually into the next.

After all of these years, you’d think I’d have figured out what causes these headaches. But they always seem to come out of the blue.

It is even harder when they are not as common. I used to get them regularly. I always had pain medication with me. But now they are fairly rare. And I sometimes have nothing with me, so I am even more miserable. Additionally, I think the headaches that I do get are worse than they used to be.

In any event, I have been feeling quite out of sorts lately. I am sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. It just makes things more challenging to do them while I either can’t see very well, or have a horrible headache.Because my job doesn’t really have the option to just not show up or leave if I am not feeling well, I just keep going.

It feels terrible to say so, but I am now anxious for spring to just be done.

Maybe that will stop the madness!