I am not sure if I should cry or jump out onto what used to be a nice landscaped patio and start digging up the ground.
This summer, we have noticed quite a bit of weeds and other uninvited plants around our patio and front walk area. We've had wild daisies, and some other plant/weed that seems to sprout tall with tiny little white blossoms. Growing on top of the mulch under our once beautiful light green shrub is a round leafed annoyance which I will call the ugly red headed step kids of the lettuce family.
This season in particular, Alex and I have been more diligent in pulling out the daisies and the cluster of white blossoms whenever we've seen them. The daisies are no more. They have not returned since we pulled them a couple of months ago. However, the tall plant with the tiny white blossoms and the round leafed 'lettuce' thing continues to come back in other places, and, I noticed today we have a medium sized cluster of what looks like clovers with dark pink/purple flowers at the top. It is maybe six inches tall from the mulch.
But wait, it gets worse! I found what appears to be an underground entrance on one side of the front walk. It is about 2-3 inches in diameter. I fear the worst. The cats and I have seen a small chipmunk sized creature on our patio from time to time. Could they be burrowing under our front walk? Could that explain why all of a sudden we've seen a variety of unintended plants around our shrubs and bushes?
It's WAR! Our borders will be patrolled at ANY cost! And our condo association will hear about the 'chipmunks'.
In the meantime, anyone out there have any helpful advise/cures for my woes???
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
He Who Must Not Be Named
The saddest page ever (well, at least for now) of any book series...page 652.
I am finished with book 6 of Harry Potter.
I seriously do not know what it is about this series that has captured my undivided attention, has grasped my full and most serious attention...all I know is that when I walk away from a chapter, or as with tonight, the book itself, I am still living the scenes of its words in my head and dreaming about the next and final Harry Potter adventure.
Do not worry. I will not give anything away. I've been the victim of ignorant, cruel fellow 'readers' giving away the goodies before one can discover them on their own. I refuse to be added to that shameful, horrible list of offenders.
The only regret I have regarding book 6 is that it took me five days to read it! I most confidently believe I would have finished in three days had I not been gainfully employed, being pursuaded to go to work, or taken the time to to engage in such trivial activities as going to the bathroom, or eating or even sleeping for that matter.
In any case, I am relieved and anxious at the same time.
I am relieved I no longer have to avert my attention to articles that might tempt me which include interviews and reviews from those who finished the book and may 'accidentally' give something away. I am relieved that a certain amount of craziness in me can fade away again for the time being.
However, I am anxious to get to the next book. The next book however, will probably not publish and give joy to the public till a few years from now. The author has inconveniently and without thought to the fans of Harry Potter, given birth to a child, who no less requires much of her attention. Who knows when she'll start writing again.
I am finished with book 6 of Harry Potter.
I seriously do not know what it is about this series that has captured my undivided attention, has grasped my full and most serious attention...all I know is that when I walk away from a chapter, or as with tonight, the book itself, I am still living the scenes of its words in my head and dreaming about the next and final Harry Potter adventure.
Do not worry. I will not give anything away. I've been the victim of ignorant, cruel fellow 'readers' giving away the goodies before one can discover them on their own. I refuse to be added to that shameful, horrible list of offenders.
The only regret I have regarding book 6 is that it took me five days to read it! I most confidently believe I would have finished in three days had I not been gainfully employed, being pursuaded to go to work, or taken the time to to engage in such trivial activities as going to the bathroom, or eating or even sleeping for that matter.
In any case, I am relieved and anxious at the same time.
I am relieved I no longer have to avert my attention to articles that might tempt me which include interviews and reviews from those who finished the book and may 'accidentally' give something away. I am relieved that a certain amount of craziness in me can fade away again for the time being.
However, I am anxious to get to the next book. The next book however, will probably not publish and give joy to the public till a few years from now. The author has inconveniently and without thought to the fans of Harry Potter, given birth to a child, who no less requires much of her attention. Who knows when she'll start writing again.
Page 536
I'm a little more than a hundred pages away from finishing the 6th Harry Potter book I obtained last Friday...midnight. Hehehe!
I'm in love with this book now. Everything makes sense...all the way back from the very first book. I shall refrain from writing anything more about the book now as Alex has not finished it or has gotten as far as I have.
I WILL FINISH TONIGHT. Can't wait!
I'm in love with this book now. Everything makes sense...all the way back from the very first book. I shall refrain from writing anything more about the book now as Alex has not finished it or has gotten as far as I have.
I WILL FINISH TONIGHT. Can't wait!
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
12
I was reading the How Not To Guy's blog about his misspellings and other such gramatical errors in his blog. I personally think when the story is good, you forgive (or don't see at all) the errors altogether, and his blogs are pretty damn funny and true.
But the whole spelling subject brought back a memory I seldom recollect intentionally. It was the Spring of 1984...when I was a fifith grader. Every year, the school held a spelling bee contest within each grade. This particular year and grade of my scholastic career, I'd decided to enter the contest. Don't know what made me take the leap of faith.
The 1st round started out with almost everyone in the class. I guess as you get older, you become more confident in your abilities. Anyway, it started out with about 16 kids. One by one, we were all given easy words to spell in the first round. As the rounds got higher, so did the level of difficulty with a peppering of an out of place easy word every now and then. By the time we'd reached round 2, it was myself and two other kids at the go. I began to get nervous. Considering I had volunteered into the contest on a whim (this is where it all started, my inclination to do things on a whim through out my life), I was more than happy that I'd gone this far. But now I was beginning to think that I was actually smarter than I'd thought! I'd even beat out Kristin and Andy, the two smartest kids in the class!
Oh! Wouldn't my mother be happy when she learned I'd been the spelling champion of the class! Then maybe she'd cut me some slack when it came to piano practice and let me watch TV instead (I'd started piano because it was fun and I enjoyed it, but as with all things that perk a child's interest with the most purest of intents and desires, my mother ruined it for me by making it her life's goal to create a phenom).
I let myself become excited. My palms were sweaty, my breathing irratic, and my face began to feel hot. My toes curled inside my shoes in anticipation of my next word. What would it be?
"Your word, Miss Park, is twelve..."
Oh super! Oh luck! Oh fortune had smiled upon me this day! I'd lucked out and gotten one of the out of place easy words for this round! God wanted me to be a speller. Fantastic.
"Twelve." I repeated, sweaty hands clasped behind me. "T - W - E- L..." then it happened. I blanked out. I'd forgotten where I was in the word. Was I in the middle? The end? Had I already said E? Did I say W yet? My nerves got the better of me at that moment. I was no longer sure what was coming out of my mouth. How embarassing! Everyone was staring at me and waiting...I could hear them snickering at me for hesitating, for taking so long to spell such a simple word! I wanted to get out of the room. I wanted to disappear for a day from everyone. My brain raced, thinking about how kids would treat me after this, after whatever was going to happen to me, I thought about how embarassing it would be to lose in this round to a word I KNEW how to spell but I couldn't get my thoughts straight, I couldn't get the right letters out of my mouth. I froze. The longer I thought, the quieter the class room became. I had to end this, one way or the other, and end it quickly.
"...E - V - E"
"T-W-E-L-E-V-E is incorrect." My teacher's voice responded. "Please sit down, you did a good job, you should be proud."
How could I have missed that word?!?!?!?
From that point on for the next two weeks, my mind swirled with nothing but things that had something to do with 12. There were 12 months in a year, 12 eggs in a carton, 12 days of Christmas, 12 doughnuts in a doughnut box, a dozen of this, a dozen of that...they all floated inside my head like giant bubbles of disappointment.
On the 3rd week, I discovered Rubic's Cube...and I never looked back.
But the whole spelling subject brought back a memory I seldom recollect intentionally. It was the Spring of 1984...when I was a fifith grader. Every year, the school held a spelling bee contest within each grade. This particular year and grade of my scholastic career, I'd decided to enter the contest. Don't know what made me take the leap of faith.
The 1st round started out with almost everyone in the class. I guess as you get older, you become more confident in your abilities. Anyway, it started out with about 16 kids. One by one, we were all given easy words to spell in the first round. As the rounds got higher, so did the level of difficulty with a peppering of an out of place easy word every now and then. By the time we'd reached round 2, it was myself and two other kids at the go. I began to get nervous. Considering I had volunteered into the contest on a whim (this is where it all started, my inclination to do things on a whim through out my life), I was more than happy that I'd gone this far. But now I was beginning to think that I was actually smarter than I'd thought! I'd even beat out Kristin and Andy, the two smartest kids in the class!
Oh! Wouldn't my mother be happy when she learned I'd been the spelling champion of the class! Then maybe she'd cut me some slack when it came to piano practice and let me watch TV instead (I'd started piano because it was fun and I enjoyed it, but as with all things that perk a child's interest with the most purest of intents and desires, my mother ruined it for me by making it her life's goal to create a phenom).
I let myself become excited. My palms were sweaty, my breathing irratic, and my face began to feel hot. My toes curled inside my shoes in anticipation of my next word. What would it be?
"Your word, Miss Park, is twelve..."
Oh super! Oh luck! Oh fortune had smiled upon me this day! I'd lucked out and gotten one of the out of place easy words for this round! God wanted me to be a speller. Fantastic.
"Twelve." I repeated, sweaty hands clasped behind me. "T - W - E- L..." then it happened. I blanked out. I'd forgotten where I was in the word. Was I in the middle? The end? Had I already said E? Did I say W yet? My nerves got the better of me at that moment. I was no longer sure what was coming out of my mouth. How embarassing! Everyone was staring at me and waiting...I could hear them snickering at me for hesitating, for taking so long to spell such a simple word! I wanted to get out of the room. I wanted to disappear for a day from everyone. My brain raced, thinking about how kids would treat me after this, after whatever was going to happen to me, I thought about how embarassing it would be to lose in this round to a word I KNEW how to spell but I couldn't get my thoughts straight, I couldn't get the right letters out of my mouth. I froze. The longer I thought, the quieter the class room became. I had to end this, one way or the other, and end it quickly.
"...E - V - E"
"T-W-E-L-E-V-E is incorrect." My teacher's voice responded. "Please sit down, you did a good job, you should be proud."
How could I have missed that word?!?!?!?
From that point on for the next two weeks, my mind swirled with nothing but things that had something to do with 12. There were 12 months in a year, 12 eggs in a carton, 12 days of Christmas, 12 doughnuts in a doughnut box, a dozen of this, a dozen of that...they all floated inside my head like giant bubbles of disappointment.
On the 3rd week, I discovered Rubic's Cube...and I never looked back.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Hello? Social Security?
The instructions say it will take 8-13 minutes to read through the instructions on how to fill out a change of name for my SSN card. 8-13 minutes? Did they sit a bunch of yahoos around a conference table and time how long it took them to read it? 13 minutes is rather random. Anyway, I digress...
It took me 20 minutes to get through the whole thing (the first time). I make no excuses. I'm not terribly intuitive when it comes to these form thing-a-ma-jigs. All of a sudden I turn into a three year old.
Despite myself, I completed the form. I was happy for two seconds. During the 3rd second, I realized that since I was not born in the US, I needed to provide another piece of documentation...either my passport or naturalization document. I chose the passport. Okay, I thought, I got through this....I am done, right? Wrong.
I had to mail this request for name change on my SSN, so I needed an address to send it to. You'd think it would just be one, all inclusive office of SS Administration, but that is not the case. Apparently, there's a SS office in Elgin, right next to the Casino (sigh...shaking of head...sigh). I called the SS hot line to get the address. I'm done, right? Wrong.
I needed something to put the documents in so I could mail it to the SS office next to the casino. I panic ('cause I'm really good at panicking for no good reason when the solution has not dawned on me yet). Fortunately, my ability to quickly send myself into a tizzy (panic) is complimented by my random, but detailed memory. I do have manilla envelopes! They are in the small closet next to my not yet dry cleaned wedding dress and veil... on the floor, right side, next to telescope lenses I no longer use. I put the documents inside the envelope. I'm done, right? Wrong.
How much postage do I adhere? For regualr letters, $0.37 does the trick. However, how much postage do you adhere to a 9x12 flat envelope? At least a dollar's worth...right? Hmmm. Well, I'm not going to figure this out or 'guestimate' this one. I'd hate to find my envelope returned or even worse, traveling somewhere in the mail system with important documents I'll never get back. I decide to play this one safe.
Alex will take it to the post office tomorrow and stamp the exact amount needed to ensure my request will be received safely.
I'm done.
It took me 20 minutes to get through the whole thing (the first time). I make no excuses. I'm not terribly intuitive when it comes to these form thing-a-ma-jigs. All of a sudden I turn into a three year old.
Despite myself, I completed the form. I was happy for two seconds. During the 3rd second, I realized that since I was not born in the US, I needed to provide another piece of documentation...either my passport or naturalization document. I chose the passport. Okay, I thought, I got through this....I am done, right? Wrong.
I had to mail this request for name change on my SSN, so I needed an address to send it to. You'd think it would just be one, all inclusive office of SS Administration, but that is not the case. Apparently, there's a SS office in Elgin, right next to the Casino (sigh...shaking of head...sigh). I called the SS hot line to get the address. I'm done, right? Wrong.
I needed something to put the documents in so I could mail it to the SS office next to the casino. I panic ('cause I'm really good at panicking for no good reason when the solution has not dawned on me yet). Fortunately, my ability to quickly send myself into a tizzy (panic) is complimented by my random, but detailed memory. I do have manilla envelopes! They are in the small closet next to my not yet dry cleaned wedding dress and veil... on the floor, right side, next to telescope lenses I no longer use. I put the documents inside the envelope. I'm done, right? Wrong.
How much postage do I adhere? For regualr letters, $0.37 does the trick. However, how much postage do you adhere to a 9x12 flat envelope? At least a dollar's worth...right? Hmmm. Well, I'm not going to figure this out or 'guestimate' this one. I'd hate to find my envelope returned or even worse, traveling somewhere in the mail system with important documents I'll never get back. I decide to play this one safe.
Alex will take it to the post office tomorrow and stamp the exact amount needed to ensure my request will be received safely.
I'm done.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Scary List
Alex and I reached a milestone in our marriage yestserday. We have great news.
WE ATE PORK CHOPS FOR DINNER.
For many years, I have avoided eating pork and some pork products - not due to any real medical condition (well, if you consisder mental illness medical, then I guess it was medical), but becaue I had at some point during my college years decided pork and pork products made me break out in itchy red splotchies all over.
I'm open to the fact that my very first 'break out' could have been caused by something else, some other outside element I failed to consider, however, the splotchies were real, my experience was real and it happened on more than a few occassions thereafter when I'd been opened minded and consumed pork. From that point on, I had determined in my mind I was allergic to pork and pork products (even though I ate sausage & pepperoni pizza without any issues).
About a week ago, we took a Maidy/Buzzard trip to Marietta OH for the 4th of July holiday. We were offered BLT's for lunch.
I took the plunge. I didn't want to be a fickle/picky guest, and also, I remembered that I had not broken out or died two Christmas' ago when Alex prepared a ham for Christmas dinner. Quite the oppposite, I remembered enjoying the honey ham.
I'd decided soggy bacon, or fatty tasting bacon, come hell or high water, I would be gracious and eat what was offered me. To my pleasant surprise, the bacon was made to order in the microwave - crisp and delicious. it did not taste fatty. It tasted great. This experience lead me to comment over this past weekend to Alex that I may be open to trying some more pork in the near future.
My family and friends just smirked when they heard i'd eaten real pork and liked it (just like they'd always told me I would and that I did NOT suffer from swine allergies).
I gathered a lot of courage from my recent experience with pork. I can knock pork off the 'scary' list. Of course, there's still the squeemish feeling I get in the pit of my being for other 'scary' list foods....like bloody steaks (yuck!) or Alex's runny eggs.
WE ATE PORK CHOPS FOR DINNER.
For many years, I have avoided eating pork and some pork products - not due to any real medical condition (well, if you consisder mental illness medical, then I guess it was medical), but becaue I had at some point during my college years decided pork and pork products made me break out in itchy red splotchies all over.
I'm open to the fact that my very first 'break out' could have been caused by something else, some other outside element I failed to consider, however, the splotchies were real, my experience was real and it happened on more than a few occassions thereafter when I'd been opened minded and consumed pork. From that point on, I had determined in my mind I was allergic to pork and pork products (even though I ate sausage & pepperoni pizza without any issues).
About a week ago, we took a Maidy/Buzzard trip to Marietta OH for the 4th of July holiday. We were offered BLT's for lunch.
I took the plunge. I didn't want to be a fickle/picky guest, and also, I remembered that I had not broken out or died two Christmas' ago when Alex prepared a ham for Christmas dinner. Quite the oppposite, I remembered enjoying the honey ham.
I'd decided soggy bacon, or fatty tasting bacon, come hell or high water, I would be gracious and eat what was offered me. To my pleasant surprise, the bacon was made to order in the microwave - crisp and delicious. it did not taste fatty. It tasted great. This experience lead me to comment over this past weekend to Alex that I may be open to trying some more pork in the near future.
My family and friends just smirked when they heard i'd eaten real pork and liked it (just like they'd always told me I would and that I did NOT suffer from swine allergies).
I gathered a lot of courage from my recent experience with pork. I can knock pork off the 'scary' list. Of course, there's still the squeemish feeling I get in the pit of my being for other 'scary' list foods....like bloody steaks (yuck!) or Alex's runny eggs.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Wall Space
Here's a shot of our newly 'shelved' wall, and a shot of the spice drawers we bought in Marietta. Yes, I do realize no one else will find this remotely interesting, but it's my damn blog and I'll do what I want.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Did you know?
Did you know....?
The smell of cake does not wake up Alex (even though he is the reason I started baking one...sigh)? You can see Alex dozing in the background.
Did you know....?
Going to bed does not mean physically getting into bed...it means lounging on the couch, having turned to the ESPN channel, volume turned up WAY too loud, then only watching five minutes of baseball highlights, having fallen asleep on the couch while clutching the remote refusing to get into bed even though one would be more comfortable sleeping in bed, as that is what beds are for...eh hem!?
Did you know....?
Taking out the trash is answering, "yes" to your wife asking, "since you're going out for cake ingredients (yes, the same cake mentioned above), will you grab the kitchen trash on your way out?" and then 15 seconds later walking out the front door instead of walking out through the garage door where she has placed the kitchen trash, neatly tied?
Did you know....?
Doing dishes does not actually require the removal of chocolate (or other sticky, greasy, gooey food remants) splotched on the side of the plate?
Did you know....?
Did you know that as Alex is ready to pour himself a mug of coffee before leaving for work tomorrow morning he will find there is no coffee, and the reason for no coffee is because he fell asleep on the couch the night before despite my logical request for him to get into bed? Well, I'll make the coffee tonight...since I need some too.
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