MiracleStun: For the Overexuberant Garden!

Okay, I'm not getting enough validation on facebook from my so-called friends, so I'm resorting to blogging. (I know, so shallow!)

It's spring here -- late spring to be honest -- and it's landscaping time again. How I love gardening!! The fresh smells of dirt, the green shoots on plants assumed dead since they went leafless months ago. LOVE!

I love it up north, mainly. Here, it's just selective plant homicide. (Vegicide? Herbicide?) I have become the Marquess de Sod -- seeking the disciplined landscape.

First came the weeds. Dollarweed, heart-leaf nettle, crabgrass, chick weed. All of them in my perennial beds. ("OH, put in perennial beds -- you 'll never mow it again!" Sure! I'll be too busy ripping up weeds for that anyway!)

At least only one of the weeds is toxic -- the heart-leaf nettle. Strange, but the plant's sting is often compared to fire ant bites. Quelle coincidence. Seems the fire ants "farm" aphids in the bushes I'm pruning. Yeah. They stung me between my shoulder blades where I can't reach them. Nasty creatures.

It's a jungle out there... So, for your amusement, I present "Pruning a Year's Growth Off the Florida Privet":

That's right, a year's growth. I'm trimming them back down to five feet tall -- like the bush on the far-right of the picture.  "Grows to ten fee tall" my ass!

See?

Seriously, I'm wondering what I can put on it to stunt its growth. Sort of an anti-fertilizer. I don't want to kill it -- just stunt it. I can see it now: MiracleStun, for the overexuberant garden!

Just assume everything's a weed.

Homeschool -- feelin' the love...

Just to make me feel better about my homeschool, my father sent me this:

 

So, ya feelin' the love now?

 

How did THAT happen?!

Took The Boy out shopping for a blanket/quilt/comforter this weekend. Saw a gorgeous cobalt blue comforter. It was the perfect color. It was luminescent. The Boy -- my boy -- had the decency to be absolutely SHOCKED at the price. I believe he said, "Geez! That costs as much as a thingie
here>." I was so pleased!
You know what this means, right? He's paying attention!! The whole allowance, saving money, and shopping for deals thing makes sense to him. When he wanted a Mac for Christmas, he figured out whether he wanted a laptop or desktop, what the generations looked like, what they cost, what they would run. He searched eBay for months until he found this beauty:

$140 later, he's playing garage band, surfing the net, playing apps, and probably plotting world domination.

Somewhere, somehow, I taught The Boy something useful! I wonder how...

Goals. Yeah, I should make some goals...

So, a new year. Hm. I feel the need to be enthusiastic about something. But what?

I could just work on my existing to-do list. That'd be a start. I'd like to take beginner yoga. I'd like to get the kids involved in more out-of-the-house activities. I'd like to lose 30 pounds -- just to regain the "normal" range. I have curriculum things I could work on. I have some projects for the lake house.

Ooh! Did I mention we FINALLY closed on the lake house? Yup, we got us some real estate Up North. It's currently under three feet of snow, but they promise it'll melt by May. Probably.

Now, I can do all those cool Pinterest things I've found that I can't use at home! Painted dressers, branches used as curtain rods, Ikea shelving. The house came furnished, but none of the sheets are made of cotton and the couch smells doggy. The house does have good bones, though. I just have to beware of overdecorating. It's supposed to be a place where you can relax and not worry about putting your feet on the couch. They call it a "camp" rather than a "cottage". Whatevah. I'm making Snoopy quilts for The Girl's bedroom. The Boy's bedroom is going to be in Moose. (Trust me on this one.) Our bedroom is already pretty nice, but I've already made wall hangings for it to match the comforter. But mostly, I have to calm down, set up an LLC, change over the homeowner's insurance, and get some summer renters. 

But overall, I'm not feeling that excited "let's go!", New Year's thing.

I think the best thing I could focus on right now is finding my fun. The family will benefit from it, I'll benefit from it. We need more dinners at the beach, more tempera paint, more holiday decorations, more kids groups. More walks, more parks, more silly books. More sleep, more exercise, more pie. More fun.

How's that sound for a goal? Yay!

Mmm. Holiday food...

Crackers. Because apparently it's tacky to eat Boursin with a spoon.

 

It's not just for breakfast anymore...

This year, next year...

Well, it all went pretty well. Monday was nuts, of course -- up by 9:00, kids up by 10:00, out the door by 10:30, at Grandmother's by 11:00. Birthday lunch, cake, singing, presents. Out the door again by 1:00. Naps all around. Back into clothes by 4:30, church at 5:00, Chinese food, showers. Max and Ruby Christmas DVD at 9:00, cursing at 10:30 when there are still six episodes remaining. Kids to bed at 11:30, wrapping, labelling, arranging, bed at 1:00.

Up again at 9:00 for presents and grandfather. Swap out the grandparents at 11:00. Grandmother leaves at 1:00. Collapse. Swear. Feel queasy.

This is our typical holiday.

The Girl is totally uninterested in Christmas presents. For her birthday (Monday), she got a pop-up Alice in Wonderland, a Martha Speaks book and doll, and a pink fleece neck pillow. She loved them. She carried the Alice in Wonderland book to church on Christmas Eve. Christmas was of no interest to her, unless it was something she's usually not allowed, like hand sanitizer or scented markers.

I think The Boy has finally conceded that Santa is his parents, and as such, is not magic. The Husband wrote 'From "Santa"' on his presents, and after an initial squalk, The Boy was cool with it. He later said he's like to be able to thank Santa for his computer. I told him he could probably find a way to do that and winked, and he said thanks and hugged me. Then he went to thank the other half of "Santa". Nice. :)

So, the real question is, "What will I do next year to avoid being unhappy next year?" Because I really am unhappy at Christmas. A lot. I hate cooking. I hate decorating. I hate wrapping. I love old old music. I love velvet dresses. I love white lights and candles. I love Loreena McKennett.

Tragically, my kids idea of a great Christmas and my idea of a great Christmas are mutually exclusive. The Girl actually screams when I sing, screeches when we light Advent candles, fusses when I put on music. The Boy loves flashing colored lights, SpongeBob Christmas, piles of presents and all the crappy decorations they've ever made since preschool.

 

See the problem? So, I'm not sure what to do differently next year without totally ruining everyone else's Christmas. But I'm pretty sure it starts with ear buds and my own tree. And an escape hatch somewhere behind the stove.



Christmas advances...

Well, Pie Day was a total washout, but I don't care. I'll bake tomorrow.

I read the "shoot from Jesse's stump" reading for the Lessons and Carols service this morning, and stood around after church with Good Episcopalians, remarking how this is a good time to be from Minnesota. Lovely weather here...

We went to a radio-show-play of Miracle on 34th Street, and Santa was very convincing. My husband almost died of mortification because his kids are so weird. We had The Glaring Woman three seats over from us -- you know, the one who's already giving you the stink eye before the show even starts 'cause your kid is fidgeting. I plied the kids with candy canes, and they were pretty good until intermission. Tragically, there were Reese's Peanut Butter Cups at the snack bar before The Girl and I went to the bathroom, but they were gone by the time we got back. Cue meltdown. The husband took her for a ride in the car while The Boy and I witnessed the Birth of Faith in a feminist's heart. Y'know, the stories that Made Our Country Great.

Still, it was good to get out around other people who at least seem to like me. Now, I'm hiding in the den with my peanut brittle, waiting for The Man to bring home Pizza Hut.

New tradition -- tourtiere on New Year's Eve. :)

Mmm. Except, we use beef and pork, and we use cinnamon, instead of thym et de sauge séchés...