The Random Post

I have this very large group of girlfriends that I "talk" to on a nearly daily basis.  They keep me from my housework and stuck on Facebook, and then proceed to get me addicted to websites like Pinterest.  However, all in all, they are probably some of my best friends in the world.  They literally know everything about me, I think.  I can't think of a single thing I haven't told them. 

And I've never met them.  I haven't met a single one of them out of the 125 of us.  I've only known them online and via text.  In fact, I have yet to speak to one of them on the phone and have only heard some of their voices through videos we've shared on our secret little group on Facebook!  But, I'll tell you what, if one of them called me up at 2:30 in the morning, I'd stay on the phone with them as long as it took.  No doubt about it.  And if one of them gave me an hour notice that they would be passing through the area on a road trip and wanted to grab lunch quick, I would drop just about anything to do it.

These women mean the world to me and because of them, I've been able to keep my sanity when people here were unavailable or unable to help.  I don't know what I would do without them.

Now, I had NO intention of coming on here and talking about them.  I hadn't really had a topic in mind.  I have a bunch of jumbled mess in my brain these days, so I came to do a list.

As women, we tend to carry a lot of thoughts around in our heads.  I know men that do this, but I'm pretty confident that we women continue to be blamed by society for "thinking too much" because it's what we do.  It's in most of our physical make up of our brains.  We have a tendency to make lists.  And sometimes a list is about all you can think of to say.  This is something some of my amazing, supportive friends have been doing lately: writing a list to get out the jumbled mess in our brains out.  Some write it to vent their mixed emotions.  Others write their list simply because they're bored and have nothing else better to do.

Unless you're me; I ramble on and on and on about WHY I'm writing the list.

So, here's my list today:

1.)  I love that it snows in our part of New Mexico in small spurts.  It makes it a treasured event in our household since it only happens a handful of times a year at most and generally only lasts a day or two in a way that allows the children to play in it.  It's magical and feels like a blessing every time it snows.

2.)  My darn dog barks too much!  She drives me nuts.  Fortunately though, I know when someone is coming.

3.)  Li'l Sausage is getting too tall and growing up too fast.

4.)  Thank goodness Blogger saves your post every time you stop typing.  I nearly deleted this WHOLE post a moment ago!

5.)  Pinterest is far too addicting and makes me laugh.  I just saw a post where this guy decided to take tampons, paint them to mimic colored Christmas lights and strung them up on green wire around a doorway.  I nearly died from a strange combination of being humored and disgusted all at once!

6.)  All I want for Christmas is for my closest in-real-life friends to find peace and for my family to find their faith again.

7.)  Gladiator is an incredible movie.  Reminds me of Spartacus on Starz only less hot.

8.)  Thinking of Spartacus makes me sad about Andy Whitfield.  I may watch season one, Blood and Sand, online today while the children freeze making snowmen.

9.)  I just realized how random this post really was and it made me think of a conversation I had with my mother the other day.  She once had a teacher that told them all to start writing and not stop until he said so.

10.)  I really, really, really need to blog on here daily or at least keep a journal.  A perpetual calendar could be pretty cool.

11.)  Here's some pictures:

Diva's view of our Christmas tree.

This is how I regularly find Li'l Sausage sleeping.  Diva always covers him up with a bunch of pink blankets and then tells me how he's passed out on the floor and a zillion toys.

This is Li'l Sausage's picture of me and the laptop.  What scares me is that I'm sitting EXACTLY like my father with my hand over my mouth.  EEK!

Our first winter wonderland of the 2011-2012 winter season.  Such a beautiful thing to wake to.  I need to paint that wall...

My flowerbed with the first snow.  Makes all the dead and dormant plants look so gorgeous!

First thing about this picture is check out how gorgeous and happy our dog is in the snow!  She turns into a playful puppy when there's snow.  The second thing, I'm 5'2".  This dog stares at me at nearly eye level when she's on her hind legs.  Do you see how high that snow is on her back leg there?!  I bet she would be ecstatic to live up north.

I, however, rather enjoy that snow is a magical blessing a few times a year.  Today anyway.

This Is Why My Hubs Is Called "Bad Boy"

Our elf, Zippy, had a bit of fun before taking off to visit Santa.

I can't leave Bad Boy to his own devices for a minute.

Well, What The Cheese?!

What am I supposed to write about when I'm not assassinating all the plants in my wannabe garden?

I guess it's not technically "writing" anymore is it?  It's typing.  Maybe I'm "composing" a blog entry.  But I don't feel I'm "writing".  To me, if I were writing, I would be picking up a pen or pencil or other such instrument and scratching away along a piece of paper and no one would be able to read my illegible handwriting scrawled across the page.

And you wouldn't be reading my random thoughts passing through my brain right now.

I love technology!

I sit here right now enjoying my Spring Mix and spinach salad that I bought from a bag at Albertson's since I apparently only kill plants.  My chicken boob is sitting there on a plate glaring at me for making it wait so darn long for me to consume.  And your reading a bunch of bull at the moment.

Geez!  How much time can you waste, people?

Oh, right.  We're addicted to anything on the Internet and can't pull ourselves away.

So, to my point: I need some help coming up with topics to discuss.  PLEASE HELP!

Or, you can just suffer through more posts such as this one where there is NOTHING remotely interesting being discuss.

With that threat, I leave you with a little parting gift that I usually save for Facebook.  Bad Boy currently has a cast on his left arm that goes from the palm of his hand all the way to nearly the armpit.  I now have to cut his food, too, along with two of my other children's meals.  This conversation took place while he was observing me cutting his chicken boob while leaving the mushrooms intact.

Bad Boy, "What?!  You feel you need to cut it up into kid-size bites?!"
Me, "Yes, because it's the number one cause of death in the elderly."

Maybe now he'll think twice about talking smack to me again.

Doubtful.

It's been 4 days....

...and my kitchen has been transformed!

Okay, so, I didn't get to paint.  But I did discover Con-tact paper.  I almost went nuts with it.

And I decided that I MUST, absolutely MUST, own a laminator someday.  I have to.  I won't be able to live without dry-erasable labels.  I'm convinced.  You cannot change my mind.  I need one.  Period.

Huh?  OH, right.  MY KITCHEN!

Here's a layout for you to have a better idea of what you're looking at.  It is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not to scale.

Now, be kind, this is a room "in progress".  I have painting and a back splash and lighting and...You get the idea.

 

This is on the right when you walk into my kitchen.  Yes: this is how my kitchen normally looks.  What a wreck.  And completely covered.  See all that junk on top of the cabinets?  *blech*

Ugh!  Look at those pots and pans and the mugs... And my coffee cabinet above the microwave.  How did I live with this?!

This is embarrassing.  Oi.

And this is AFTER I cleared off the top of the counter a bit.  Wow.

My mats are a wreck. My floor is filthy.  Who would put ANYTHING under that sink?!

The empty space above the dishwasher is where my coffee maker was... with my coffee above the stove several pictures before?!  This doesn't make sense.

The dump corner directly across from the pantry.  Wonderful built in shelves that were poorly painted (with spray paint by the previous owner) that I sadly abused.

*hangs head in shame*

So, since we have no car and are slowly running out of money and kinda' driving each other insane (married couples were not meant to spend every waking moment together trapped in a house with a 3 year old, in my opinion), I had to give myself a project.  Every time I would enter my kitchen, which was frequently, I'd cringe at something (or lots of somethings).

This is the room where I feed my family.  Where we entertain guests.  Where I wash, dry and fold my laundry.  This is where my dog eats.  And where I store my cleaning supplies.  It's also where I get away from the family at night to talk on the phone with Sassy Mama.

I had to fix this room!

But before I fixed it, I had to trash it.

UGH!  I had a mini-panic attack at this point worrying about whether or not I could fit it all back into cabinets.

But, I'm an organizing miracle worker I guess.

I scrubbed down everything from the top to the floor (although, the floor was left until everything was put away... today, four days later from when this project started).

I met Con-Tact paper and lined a few shelves and my drawers.  Even the two Ramen boxes below was wrapped up.

My magnetic, locker pen holder that I have stuck to the side of the fridge got a bit of Con-Tact love.

I nearly became obsessed.  That could have been bad!

So, I put it all back together over the next few days.  Day one lasted over 8 hours alone.

Before:

• Coffee, drink mixes and tea were above the microwave.
• Recipes and misc items in the cabinet between fridge and microwave.
• Baking dishes, sheets, strainers and steamer in the cabinet by the stove.
• Top of fridge cluttered and cabinet above not utilized at all.
• Top of cabinets OVER utilized.

After:

• Recipes above the microwave.
• Measuring, mixing and mixing bowls along with food processor/hand mixer attachments and Pam between fridge and microwave.
• Tupperware cabinet between stove and fridge.
• Top of fridge currently houses this years Halloween stash and extra fruit bowl (empty) and cabinets utilized for things only used occasionally such as special shape ice cube trays, sun tea dispenser, etc.
• Top of cabinets CLEAR!

 Before:

• Top of cabinets cluttered... again.
• Top cabinets left to right: mix mash of drink things; serving/baking/slicing/dicing, etc. in the corner; plates and bowls and cups and mugs... blech.
• Bottom cabinets left to right: tupperware, Lazy Susan full of snacks that would catch every time it was spun (SOOOO ANNOYING), pots (the one you can't see inside of... sorry) where the lids would constantly fall and the pots had to be very specifically stacked.

After:

• Top of cabinets CLEAR!
• Top cabinets left to right: drink cups and mugs; serving/entertaining with a COUPLE odds and ends I couldn't fit anywhere else (I seriously need like 2 more cabinets and 2 more drawers and a bigger pantry); plates, bowls, plates and bowls.  :-D
• Bottom cabinets left to right: Kids cabinet with all their plates, bowls and cups within reach; pots that don't fall off shelves or need to be "insanely" stacked; my primary cooking ware including my mega huge wok and grill pan, my favorite baking dish and cheese graters, strainers and steamer.  Just the handful of things I use constantly.

Oh, look!  You can see a place where the tin foil, saran wrap and what not sit nicely next to extra towels, my cleaning caddy and the extra small pieces container thingamajig under my sink!

Look!  I have a cabinet with baking goods and then all my coffee and tea and what not... ABOVE the coffee maker!  Who would've thought that would be efficient!

See the Ramen boxes?  Ha!  I covered them with matching Con-Tact paper.  And nice neat containers I found on super sale at Target for all our munchies.  SOOOO much prettier.

Wow.  Really?  Do I need to explain?

In the end, my back hurts and my feet are throbbing.  But when I walk into my pretty, clean, and organized kitchen, I feel inspired to cook rather than puke.

Okay.  I don't always want to cook.  But at least I don't want to run out of the room in terror.  It's getting there.

Um, Now What?

It's cold outside.  All my plants have died off for the year.

*And I didn't kill them!  WOOT!*

We're all cooped up now for the most part since we don't have a car.  So what am I going to do?

Reorganize my kitchen as much as humanly possible.  Literally, I want to move everything in every cabinet to a new location.  Pics to come!





I may have lost my mind...

Been Stripped

2011.

So far, I am pretty confidant that it has been the most trying year we've been through as our own little family.

I know it's been a long time since I've posted.  I took some therapy time.  I caved up in a hole with bouts of forcing myself to be social (with mass amounts of alcohol, sometimes all at once) and making sure the kids had their birthdays.  And that's about it.

I live in a small home in the middle of New Mexico.  We have five of us living in a three bedroom home.  One kitchen.  One living room.  No basement.  No attic.  And now, no car and no income.  Those of you that know me, know we have gone from a struggling single income to a drowning, no income without transportation situation and Bad Boy's dominant arm in a cast up to his sleeve.  Those of you that don't, now know.  We've been stripped.

Did we bring it on ourselves?  I'm positive that partly we did.  Some days I feel we MORE than partly brought it on ourselves.  Some days I feel we don't deserve any better and we're "being taught".  It's depressing.

Did we deserve it?  No.  I don't believe that we do.  Even though on the bad days I try to convince myself otherwise.

Is this a pleasant post?  No.  Unfortunately not.  We've been stripped.

So, now that we have been stripped, what do we do?  We focused on each other.  We were reminded at how blessed we are to have the people in our lives that we do.  We stumbled.  I won't lie.  There were times we tried to take each other down.  It's hard to stay positive.

But, then I look at this picture to remind myself of what REALLY matters in life.

This was my Grandma encouraging my Grandpa to come out of it.  They first met when she was nine years old and he was ten.  They were married over 60 years.  He passed a few hours later and peacefully.  The lived their married life here:

A small, three bedroom home in the Shawnee National Forest in Illinois.

Only, they didn't, and still don't, have a bathroom.  The small red building behind the chicken coup is the outhouse.

And to this day, when I picture Grandma, I see her here, at her kitchen sink.  Either boiling water from the cistern to be able to consume safely, or hand-washing dishes, and long ago, even bathing one of my sister's in that sink.

2011.

The year I was taught that love is the purpose of living.  Not money.  Not material things.  Not how skinny or fat we are.  Not if we eat organic or over-processed.

Love.  Love from a your mother.  From your children.  From your grandparents.  From your friends.  From you father.  From your partner.  From YOURSELF.  It's the only thing that matters.

And in a month, if we're still without an income, without a vehicle and giving up all our luxuries (internet, being one) to hopefully not run out of money, an evil necessity in life, it's okay.  I have Bad Boy, the Literary Musician, Diva, and Li'l Sausage.  I have Sassy Mama and her girls, Deebo and Tsunami.  I have family in Daddy-Q and Mamma-J.  I have my parents, my sisters, my friends, my in-laws, my brother-in-laws.

Fortunately, we have love surrounding us.  And because of that, we have have the strength to go out for that necessary money and keep trucking along.

We've been stripped.  But we're not giving up.

Kitchen Face Lift

Yesterday morning, my house, nearly as old as I am, had a wonderful kitchen stove and range that looked a little something like this:

Please don't mind Daddy-Q and Mama J.  They're just enjoying a lot of yummy food, a bit of alcohol and an amazing water balloon war we had in June 2010 for Li'l Sausage's second birthday party.

I wonder what she's giggling about.  Where are her feet?  Something's not right here.

No matter.  Check out the disgusting range hood.

No, no.  NOT the excessive pitchers and "Hand Grenade" drink cups from New Orleans.  And NO, please stop noticing the stack of dirty platters!  It was a party!  Sheesh!

Oh.

You mean you weren't looking at those?

*blush*

That's right.  You were wondering about Mama J's feet.  Sorry to have made an a** out of myself by assuming.

In any case, ugly range hood.  UGLY!  We thought about painting it black to match our $300 stove/oven.  Even bought the heat tolerant paint (or whatever it's called), but it never left the Wal-Mart bag.  It's in the garage.

I think.

*ponders*

Well, a few weeks ago, we purchased this:

It was a mega steal of a deal!  Then it sat pushed over into the corner for what seemed an eternity and dressed up the counter where Li'l Sausage gets his supervised time outs.

He's royally livid about this spot, by the way.  Mommy stands just out of reach, he screeches, hits the counter with his fists (as shown above) and hates that he only needs to have 1/4 of an inch longer arms to reach his Mommy.

I really wish I could stand there and sing, "Nana-nana-boo-boo!" repeatedly.

But I'm a grown up.

Then Li'l Sausage started opening and closing the microwave door in his rants, so once the hardware to install the microwave arrived in the mail, we got to see the cuter side of this little guy once again.

Yesterday he "helped" Bad Boy by fixing the back of the oven so it would be in tip-top shape when it got pushed back into place.

I just want to pinch his cheeks!!!!

After nearly a half day of tireless working and cleaning on Bad Boy's part (and several trips to Lowe's), we now have this:

O.M.G. IT'S GORGEOUS!

Now my wall looks bare.  *sigh*  More home improvement is a must.

We'll be done shortly after the house is paid for in full.

PS - Thank you Mama J for your assistance in picking out the new nickname for Daddy-Q as well as purchasing Li'l Sausage's amazing cute SpongeBob Squarepants shirt.  Without you, there wouldn't be pictures such as this one:

We love you, Mama J!

Woohoo For Growing Something I Can't Eat Raw!

Raw tomatoes are too acidic for me.  As well as grapes.  And oranges.  I wonder if it has something to do with my allergy to guava?  Who knows.  The body is weird.  It's reactions are even more bizarre.

Moving on...

I wanted to take a moment to show off the last remaining plants I have living in my raised bed seeing as how I've lost nearly everything else to my murderous black thumb.

Here's my raised bed July 2nd.

Everything was green and tiny.  Even the Pumpkin was still alive but puny.   The back left are Sun Gold tomatoes.  They were received as a gift already fairly large.  This was when it had about doubled in size.

In the center was the last Roma tomato plant that I grew from seed.  The right was a purchased New Mexico Green Chili plant.  

It's against all that's natural and good to not grow green chili when you live in New Mexico.  It is just plain wrong.

I think.

Here's the raised bed as of this morning from a similar angle.

Yep!  I CAN GROW STUFF!  WOOHOO!  I ROCK!  I AM AWESOME!  I DIDN'T KILL IT!

Oh... you're still here.

*nervous clearing of throat*

Check out all those little tomatoes!

See!  I can do it!  The Sun Golds are looking good.

Apparently they are rather haunted.

*shudders at the site of orbs*

Look out behind you, by the way.

Green chili's are starting to get little buds, too.

No orbs here.  It's just the sun golds.  What's up with that?  Maybe it had something to do with these guys that Deebo caught about two weeks ago.

See.

Here's another one in Deebo's little hand because Diva and I shared this reaction to the idea of picking them off the plant.

Yeah.  That's pretty much how I felt about it.  DISGUSTING little creatures!  Even though they are kinda' cool looking.  Still don't need to touch them though.  That's what children are for.  I have no idea how I'm going to slaughter a chicken someday.  I don't think the rugrats will handle that one on their own.  Just a thought.

Deebo pulled off six of these hornworms and managed to only injure one of them.  Of course, we thought torture was a better idea.  So we threw them in this Chinese soup take-out container, poked some holes in the top, threw in some leaves and let them bake on the kitchen window sill over my sink for a week.  We finally set them free on the brink of death out by a bush in my front yard (not the courtyard).

By a bush where a bunch of rabbits live.

Now I have orbs around my Sun Gold tomatoes.

I get it.  I deserve it.

But WOOHOO for growing something I can't eat raw anyway!

*puzzled look*

I Wish...

That Tsunami's pumpkin plant didn't wither up and die for no apparent reason.  One day...

The next, such withered, brown devastatingly ugliness that I couldn't even bring myself to take a picture to show you.

I wish that my Clematis didn't go from this...

A plant clearly trying to grow to this...

One very dead plant.  *sigh*

So, I turned my luck around and wished for green.  Of course, wishing for green anything in New Mexico when it isn't a cacti, agave nor chili plant, you're in for a lot of work. A. LOT. OF. WORK.  A lot of work or not, I am determined to have a pretty little oasis within my courtyard, a relaxing environment in the backyard for entertaining, and an incredible place to play for my kiddos.  All while growing a lot of my own food.  And maybe collecting my own chicken eggs.  Someday.  We'll see.

In the meantime, I went to the big blue store that really isn't exactly a nursery to see what they had on sale in the middle of summer.  You know they needed to get rid of some stuff.  And I had lost enough plants throughout the beginning of the summer and had some that didn't bother to grow at all, that I was going to try it anyway.  Try what?

Plant in July.

In New Mexico.

When it's nearly 100 degrees outside everyday.

And drier than the Sahara Desert.

Okay, not really, but it feels that way.

I was pleasantly surprised by the finds I retrieved.  To replace my Clematis (my poor, sickly Clematis that I so desperately desired), I found the Trumpet Vine.

See that pretty orange flower?

I hate orange.  But for whatever reason, THIS orange is okay.

See that price?  Cut it in half and see what I got:

Yep.  Pretty darn well grown already.  Not one sick or beaten or battered branch nor leaf on the entire plant.

I dug a whole and turned my sickly looking Clematis corner into...

*drum roll*

So much better!  Eventually, this beautiful plant will grow and grow and grow and just keep growing until it's draping over my courtyard wall showing off it's pretty (ugly?) orange flowers.

*insert giddy happy dance here please*


Then there was this minor problem.

Ick.  I hate the brown.  I hate the cable wire coming straight down OFF CENTER between my bedroom windows.  I hate the sandy clay that won't grow anything right there.  And I'm dying to have those planter boxes stained and set level and filled with beautiful, rich soil.

I had had a Delphinium planted there.  It died.  Even though I buried it's healthy root system in really amazing soil and kept it watered appropriately.

Whatever.  The Horticulturist's Universe is out to batter me and leave me broken and bruised in my desert clay grave.  Yes, "The Horticulturist's Universe" exists and requires title capitalization... because I said so.

So there.

For this vomit-inducing section of my courtyard, on the front of my house, where everyone can see, I needed something that will grow quickly.  Something tall.  Something GREEN.  And something truly tougher than the desert it's fighting against.

This pretty flower had me sold.  I've seen it everywhere in our neck of the woods, as well, so I was feeling pretty confident that I wouldn't kill it.

I dug a huge hole.

I dug a bigger hole than recommended on the label.  A lot bigger!  It might have had something to do with my anger with Bad Boy that day.  Gardening is rather therapeutic for the frustrations ones spouse may cause.  As well as the stresses your spawn seem to constantly throw straight at your gut.  In the diaphragm.  The stresses that seemingly knock the wind out of your lungs so fast you barely have time to catch it before it explodes all over the room.

Shovels are awesome.  Just sayin'.

Side note:  why in the WORLD does "diaphragm" have a "g" in it?  Words like this baffle me.

See how much better it'll look already without it even having been put into the ground?  Eventually, it'll look like this:

That sucker can get to be about eight feet tall and can be pruned back like a shrub.

PERFECT!  I buried the beauty in excellent soil.  Watered it well.  Kept it watered.  Gave it a basin to drink out of and everything.

It almost died.  Almost.  The stubborn thing is still putting out new leaves and blooms daily though.  So I'm not worried.  I like stubborn plants.

In the raised planter bed outside my kitchen, the Sun Gold Tomatoes, Roma Tomatoes and New Mexican Green Chili plants are thriving! 

Yep.  There was my first orange Sun Gold right there.  Three weeks ago (when I INTENDED to blog about it).

I'll keep wishing for stubborn plants while these succulent beauties get obese.