Battle of the Dandelions

Well, it’s been a while since I last blogged—the couch has been quite comfy lately and I seem to fall asleep on it as soon as my butt hits the cushion. But tonight I came to the computer before the couch—small victories.

Speaking of victories, I’m hoping that my last weekend’s labors result in a victory. It seems as if the entire Grand Island dandelion population took up residence in my garden. Since I don’t have a rotor tiller, and didn’t seem to be borrowing one anytime soon, spade in hand I initiated my attack.

Since I know that dandelions will regenerate if you don’t get their entire root, I dug and pulled and dug and pulled for two afternoons…

 

…until victory was mine…I hope.

I pulled up all the edging since it was mostly buried and more a lawnmower hazard than a decorative border, but I plan to put it back in to actually serve a non-hazardous purpose.  I managed to pull up a CATV cable as well (?). It’s purpose remains a mystery.

While the job was  a bit messy… 

…the weather was gorgeous enough to justify blinding any Peeping Toms with my white legs and to require sun screen.

Time will tell who the victor was, but boy do I hope it’s me.

the wisdom (?) of mom

Well after I waxed beautiful poetry about the wisdom of my mother, she stiffed me for lunch. Every week my mom and I try to have lunch together. I got to the house, she feeds me food and we talk. Usually it falls on a Wednesday—not  for any special reason;that’s just how it is.
Well today I called to tell her I’m on my way. No answer. Hm—maybe she’s in the bathroom, running late from grocery shopping, so I head over to the house. I get to the house—the door’s locked. So I let myself in. I say hi to the dog and call my mom’s cell phone. I hear it ring—classic. It’s in the house, with me. Not helpful. So I look at the calendar—it says “T-lunch” (that’s me for lunch). Ok now I’m a bit worried.
Then I see the note on the table to my brother Eric. It says that mom will be home in time to drive him to work. I check the calendar—he works at 3 pm. What the heck? Obviously she doesn’t plan on eating with me. I steal food and head back to work.
After 2 pm I call home, Heidi answered. She tells me mom went to sub. So she looked at the calendar and STOOD ME UP!
Fast forward to 5 pm. I call mom to harass her as any good daughter should…and she says to be “Where have you been all day?” Hello? Where have I been all day? Excuse me!
Then she proceeds to tell me how she called me twice before she left and even left me a voicemail. Sometimes my phone doesn’t ring—twice though? And no voicemail…something isn’t right.
Aha, now I question her wisdom…”Mom did you call the house phone?”
LOL…we just got phone service through MagicJack. Until the hubby hooks it up in his fancy way, the phone stays by the computer. Downstairs. Where we can’t hear it in the shower, over the radio, etc.
…mystery solved…
So I proceed to tell her all the bad things that could have explained her absence…bad things with Grandpa, Dad, a sibling (since she knew she’d be home by 3 pm I figured she was ok)… and do you know what she did? She laughed, at me, at my worry…fine mom, just fine…


And to show how much my mom loves me…here she is threatening to throw a water bottle at me…feel the love people, feel the love.

Love you too Mom! Lunch on Friday anyone?

The wisdom of mom

Recently we’ve had a few parties at our house: our send off for Wendy and, even more recently, Easter. As you may know, we have a bar in our basement

Well sometimes the party leads to many “that’s what she said” comments and the world falls apart from there. Well the introduction of new drinks to our knowledge banks exacerbated this juvenile conversation recently. “Buttery Nipples,” “Slippery Nipples” and “Orgasm” combined with my siblings….

My mother didn’t raise us to speak this way. Heck going to an R rated movies at my age still brings disapproval. Calling my father a bastard (in jest of course) brought a frown, but it was during a card game. Even my super Catholic grandmother says “shit” during card games; with this as my defense, even my mom can’t argue…

Well our inappropriate conversations resulting from “Tracy will you make me an orgasm” and  “Mark and Marc your orgasms are ready” gained some of the siblings a “talk.” And the “talk” resulted in a sibling bitch session. Honestly, we should expect nothing less. For my younger sibling especially, the rearing is not yet finished. Sure they hear talk at school, but my mom wants to make sure they know that’s not acceptable…aka she doesn’t want to hear that in public. And that’s fine. I wouldn’t yell that I made my brother an Orgasm in public—why, well frankly I think it’s illegal.

So why the siblings complain about mom being ridiculous and conservative, I’m just going to appreciate her as my mom, with all her infinite wisdom. And  I’ll probably emulate her in my teen rearing years.