Decomposing

I usually like to keep to myself as far as my neighbors are concerned, but this morning Christian and I decided to attend the gardening club meeting. We made the decision to go before I realized the topic was "backyard compost"! The meeting was hosted by Karen Avery, certified Master Gardener, who lives on the street behind me. Approximately 25 people attended, mostly older folk, but there was a handful of very cool ladies, including Karen, who are really into the whole organic gardening thing, which was extremely exciting.

I learned a thing or two about composting, so the first thing we did when we got home was turn the pile I've had brewing since about March. Turning it was as complicated and labor intensive as Karen had promised it would be: first we emptied half of it out onto a tarp, then we picked the cage up and moved it over so it we could start afresh. We then had two piles, one on the tarp and one in the original position minus the cage. After forking through it some, I realized the reason it wasn't really decomposing was probably because there were too many leaves and not enough grass. So I then mowed the front yard, bringing the clippings back bag by bag and layering them with the freshly turned compost.















After mowing the front yard and shoveling about 1/3 of the original compost back into the cage, I was exhausted. So we took a lunch break and watched a cool DVD called Mad Hot Ballroom about some New York City public schools who offer ballroom dance lessons to their fifth-grade kids who then go on to compete in a regional competition. A great inspirational documentary for anyone with kids, or anyone who spends all day teaching kids (!).

When the movie was over we went back out and Christian mowed the back yard for me while I mixed the clippings in. When the original pile was back in the cage we called it quits and left the bigger pile for tomorrow.

I was beginning to think that the agony I've been experiencing in my neck the last couple of weeks was the old stress-neck back again. But after trimming a few overhanging branches with the long-extending-handle-trimmer-thing, I'm beginning to wonder if it's not just that all this manual labor catching up with me; I can hardly turn my head.

The compost pile may have to wait...

Book review number five

Cat and Mouse by Gunter Grass - 189 pages

This is one of those quirky little books that's easy reading and the characters are likeable enough, but it's not quite gripping enough to keep me from day-dreaming on occasion.

Pilenz tells the story of "the great Mahlke" his best friend, as the two mature from innocent Catholic boys to young men in war-time Germany. Mahlke is an unlikely hero; scrawny, ugly even, and with a prominent adam's apple that he will go to any lengths to hide. His self-confidence gets a boost after he learns to swim (well after all of his classmates) and discovers that not only does he take to the water like a fish, but his new-found talent for speed and prolonged stints underwater brings him into high esteem in the eyes of his peers. The two boys wile away their adolescent summers and slowly watch each other evolve into fine young men. Mahlke remains the silent hero, and after returning home with his Iron Cross he takes one last dive to visit his favorite sunken minesweep, and fails to resurface. Pilenz remains faithful to the bitter end.

Wild-erness

I found this blog today by accident, and I agree that it must be good to live near Arizona if this is how you wile away the hours...

http://nmherps.blogspot.com/

Here's a preview:



Makes me wanna take a trip, or move...

The mystery is solved...

Pinchy has been found. Not looking quite as appetizing as when he was alive I might add. If I'd have thought that he could have hoofed it out of the kitchen, made a right turn into the living room and continued on down the hall, turning left to squeeze under the door of the closet and crawled around the back of a plastic storage container, I may have searched there in the first place and he may very well have still been nice and juicy. As it is, he's a prune: shriveled and dehydrated. I didn't take a picture of the scene of the crime because a) I wanted to preserve him in memory as he was, alive and virile, and b) the batteries ran out in my camera...

May you rest in piece in the trash-can Pinchy Senior, 2006 - 2006. You'll be sorely missed.

Footnote: I forgot to mention that the hall closet is where I keep the suitcases. That explains a lot...

My passion grows...

Are you feeling lucky, punk?

I am. Here I am donning my new Blue Bayou t-shirt, which I won! That's two events in a row where my business card has been drawn from the hat : )

Christian is proudly modeling his new Rey Mysterio t-shirt which Alan purchased for him at the WWE match they attended on Sunday. I must admit I would love to have gone too, but what self-respecting mother and career girl would pass up a Bayou Buddies happy hour at RA Sushi to see a bunch of sweaty, muscular men in tight-fitting underwear?

And yes, those are my flannel maple leaf pajama bottoms in the middle of summer...

New Addition

Welcome, Sharky. We don't have a more original name yet. Jennifer and Jason put him up for adoption; seems they are looking to scale back so Sharky and the tank were cast out. Plenty of room in the tank so look out for updates on more additions...

Toe Tale

I have to share with ya'll how darn stupid I can sometimes be (not that you don't already know that...). Anyway, yesterday at work I went to whiz from one side of my desk to the other and somehow managed to run over my own toe. No big deal you may think, but, have you ever tried to stand up and release said toe when your whole bodyweight is upon it? I was crouched in a semi-stand, hovering inches above the seat, trying to escape the chair which just kept following me. I was trapped and it hurt. Needless to say, blood soon thereafter flowed. This is the same toe that I dropped my suitcase on in the airport and then endured a week of swollen foot, ouch. And the same toe that early last year suffered a black and tender toenail for weeks after a day of moving dirt in a pair of tennis shoes that seemed to be one-size too small. I'm surprised, and impressed, that the toenail is still there!

Long Live the Toenail!

Book review number four

Shaman, by Noah Gordon - 570 pages

Well, in between searching the house for Pinchy Sr. from top to bottom, well actually bottom, coz I can't imagine he would be at the top, I managed to finish Shaman which like the first in the Noah Gordon trilogy, The Physician, I enjoyed immensely.

The story begins with eighteen year old Robert Cole, who has just returned home after his fathers death. Robert, known to most as Shaman, discovers his father's journals while going through his belongings after the funeral. His father's story takes over from there, as Shaman reads the journals we follow Rob Sr.'s journey to the States from Scotland, where he begins with a dreadful term as a doctor in the slums of Boston. When he can stand it no more he heads for the country, dreaming of living among the Indians. Always a man of great morals and principles, Rob's encounters with the mistreatment and brutal slayings of the Native Americans along with his brushes with slavery instill a determination to do the right thing, no matter what people think or what the consequences might be. We follow Rob as he finds love and establishes his home and practice as a country doctor.

Shaman, who inherited his father's strength, despite his deafness becomes the successful doctor no one ever thought he could. He continues the legacy and it's happy ever after...

Gordon's research was thorough; the Civil War, the politics of both the North versus the South and the American-born versus the immigrants, the state of the medical practice during the mid-1800's, raising a child with a disability and religious differences are all prevalent in this strong and moving story. Highly recommended.

I prayed and prayed

that it would be there when I got home. And it was. I knew all along that it would be...

In reference to the requested research: it was with great interest that I read all about Edward Burleson, also known as "The Old Indian Fighter" on the Handbook of Texas Online. Is it mere coincidence that just moments before googling I was engrossed in my current reading material Shaman, which describes in great detail the despicable mistreatment of the Sauk tribe in Illinois the exact time that old Burleson was massacring hundreds of "hostile Indians" and defeating the Cherokee Tribe in Tejas? I know there are two sides to every story, but the heroic Texan generals I hold so dear aren't looking quite so noble to me right this moment...

It's amazing...

...what absolute old crap people will buy at a yard sale. No offense to Janis, Jennifer's mom, host of fore-mentioned yard sale, who kindly feed us delicious homemade chicken salad and provided a comfortable bed for the night so I could place first dibs on her "moving sale" goodies.

Jennifer, Noelie, Christian and I set out Friday afternoon for Orange. When we arrived Janis had already laid out the wares and we got prime pickin's. She was the first to admit there was a lot of junk for sale, but the next day we were highly entertained by swarms of life-long Orange inhabitants who had the most hilarious and fascinating tales to tell and devoured her cast-offs as if they were priceless antiques. Much money was made, a huge surprise to us all, and only a few boxes of tut were left over for GoodWill.

We ventured out the evening before to strategically place the obligatory "Yard Sale" signs, and witnessed evidence of Rita's wrath: Abandoned homes in disrepair and trees still uprooted and uncleared everywhere. Very sad.

Aquatic update

Pinchy acting as guinea-pig. We bought some floating food sticks designed for newts, etc, they were supposed to be for the tadpoles, but they have all since been devoured (the tadpoles that is). He seems to like the food. But when he gets really hungry he just sheds his own skin and eats it (below). Yum.

Spring Break flashback

Driving past Anahuac reminded me of earlier in the year when Christian and I took an unforgettable trip up the Trinity River... I promised Jennifer I would post the pictures as I hadn't included them before

Good luck STS-121 Discovery!

Astronauts Michael E. Fossum, Thomas Reiter, Mark E. Kelly, Steven W. Lindsey, Stephanie D. Wilson, Lisa M. Nowak and Piers J. Sellers. Due home July 17th after a successful launch today.