Miscellaneous Shenanigans

Here are a few of the latest shenanigans around here:

• Jeff recently got a smart phone. We now amuse ourselves by asking her all sorts of random questions. She gets an attitude sometimes and it is really funny. Here is a bit from the Q & A: Are you single? I don't answer questions about marital status. Do you have siblings? I guess that's always a possibility. Are you magic? No comment, Jeff. Can you sing me Happy Birthday? Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy over the love of you. I'm not sure. Let me search the internet for 'I'm half crazy over the love of you.' 
• Jeff recently created an Instagram account. We both thought it was a photo editing program. Jeff accidentally hacked some girl's Instagram account because she was using our email address. We now the proud owners of an account filled with pictures of legs, food, reciepts and other minutia. Oh, and a load of obligatory photos of girl showing off photographing herself in the bathroom mirror. You know the ones: hip to one side. Short shorts. Freshy coifed hair. Camera phone in hand. And a caption referring to how hard said person is going to party 2nite. lol. Despite all attempts to contact her, I think she thinks we are scamming her and instead continues to try and reset the password. When will she figure out that the password reset emails come to us? Who knows!
• Last night while James was getting a haircut, Tyler accidentally knocked one of the clipper attachments in the toilet. Then, thinking he was helping, he flushed. I took one for the team and plunged my arm into hopper but couldn't catch it in time. Now our toilet is flushing slowly. Not good. On the bright side, the conversation with Tyler went like this: Tyler, you can't flush things down the toilet. But we need to get it, Mom! No, we can't get it. It is gone. No, we need to break that open and get it. (referring to the back of the toilet) No, it's not in there. The water goes out of the house and under the ground. (Then Tyler went to bed....and first thing this morning...) We need to go dig it up in the backyard. Let's go get it!

Of Course...

Jeff came home and told me that he had taken the time to calculate the probability of his passing the Professional Engineering test. Before he could go any further, I asked him if he had used either MathCAD or Excel to do it. Why, yes, of course he had. Excel is his second language, and he used it to calculate his potential score on the test. He went on to explain how determined the probability of each subject by using the number of answers available on the multiple choice, as well as the degree to which he knows each subject matter. Confused yet? It made my head spin just trying to follow along with all the figures he was throwing around and I am pretty sure the whole thing only took him 5 minutes. Sadly, he didn't go as far as to make a PowerPoint about it. Maybe next time.

Family Tradition, And How We Accidentally Got Our Neighbors Deported

Jeff's mom used to have a police scanner. She would hunch over next to it and listen to the wild and crazy*  happenings in little Fruita, Colorado. *If there was a sarcasm font, I would use it here.* When something 'exciting' would happen, she would get in her car and drive to the scene to get a closer look. We always wondered why she would do this. Aside from the obvious bottle-necking, she had no driver's license or insurance and some illegal habits. Why would you put yourself closer to the very cops who could arrest you? That's one I never figured out. When Jeff and I got married, he got himself his very own police scanner. When we weren't sitting around in our camp chairs watching our hotel-hand-me-down TV which had to be turned off every 10 minutes to cool down, we would listen to the scanner. When we were first married, we found a nice-sized and affordable condo to live in. It happened to be affordable because it was in the bad part of town. Now, I will say that the bad part of town in Grand Junction is probably more like Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood when compared to parts of Philly. But alas, it was the ghetto to us. One night we woke to the sounds of an all-out screaming match a few houses down. It was a domestic dispute and sounded quite ugly. Jeff called the cops and then turned on the scanner. We listened both out the window and on the scanner as the cops showed up. (This makes us sound like total rednecks, doesn't it?) The police knocked, and no one answered. Um, duh. You are the only one with lights on at 3am. They know it's you! The police knocked and knocked and finally someone answered. In the meantime, they ran the plates on the truck parked outside. Next thing you know, we head 'Call in the INS van.' Oops. Turns out they were illegal and they got taken away in the van. Can't say I've ever witnessed that  before or since. When we moved here, the police scanner no longer worked. Something about going digital. Fast forward to last week. Jeff got an iphone from work, and guess what it has on it?! That's right, a police scanner. Now we can listen to various police departments along the east coast. Something tells me that 12 years and 3 kids later, we won't be spending much time listening, but its kind of funny that we have it. Maybe we'll have to bust out the camp chairs and reminisce about old times while listening to the scanner, and pass on the tradition to the kids.

Put That On Yer Resume!

I must say that having chickens in full of adventures. I mean...skunk attack, wayward chicken wrangling and an accidental meat chicken. Exciting times, I tell ya! This week I had another experience to add to my chicken resume. I am currently trying to break my poor broody hen of her broodiness. After 6 weeks or so, she still hasn't figured out that she's not going to hatch anything. I have to keep taking her off the nest, and she is skittish and kind of crazy. I think it is a combination of her broodiness, her previous flightiness left over from when she was attacked, and the fact that she has pretty much isolated herself from the other chickens for the last month and a half. Anyway....it has been interesting, but I'm rambling. I had gone to check on her and found one of the other hens tethered to the chicken door. She had something around her foot, which was also wrapped around a stick, which was jammed in the door. I extracted her and took her out into the sunshine to see what the deal was. Turns out she got tangled up in some of the stupid garden netting we have (seriously...its terrible stuff...never buying it again!) It wrapped twice around her claw (toe?) and was really, really tight. I don't think she could feel it anymore. I had to perform some serious chicken procedure to remove the netting. I pretty much felt like a brain surgeon when I was finished and mentally patted myself on the back when I had some horse medicine to spray on her.** Now she's as good as new, and I am ready to perform surgery on anyone who needs it. Any takers????

**I have this around on the recommendation of my blog friend and Chicken Expert Linda and if she says it works for chickens...then I believe it!

P.S. Guess what we spent Saturday doing?! Sit down before you read this...we visited actual CAR DEALERSHIPS to look for a new ride for me and the kids. We even visited my old place of employment which was...strange. Have I ever mentioned how I am SO GLAD I don't work there anymore?! Regardless, we are (finally) looking for a vehicle with a) air conditioning, b) more space, and c) air conditioning. And did I mention more space? Oh, yes, that will be nice. Now, for those of you who know Jeff, I will answer your burning questions:

1. No, we are NOT looking for minivans. Have you seen pigs flying lately? Didn't think so.
2. No, we are NOT going to buy anything new or pick up a fancy-schmancy car payment.
3. And no, we are probably not going to buy from a dealership. He is looking on Ebay actually. And good ol' Craigslist. We just wanted to get a feel for what we wanted.

So the vehicle in our sights, as I am sure you are all dying to know...2005 Ford Expedition with the Eddie Bauer package.

Well, That Was Interesting

Yesterday Jeff planned on replacing his radiator. I took the younger two and left James with Jeff. I was browsing in Tar-jay when the cell phone rang. It was James. Now James never uses the phone, so I knew something was up. He was very calm, and said 'Dad cut his finger. You need to come home.' I told him I would come right home and hung up. I felt surprisingly calm, despite the fact that I knew he must have severed a major appendage in order to justify a phone call. I didn't even think to ask how bad it was or anything. On the short way home, James called again to see how long it would be before I got there. Then I started to really wonder what had happened. He told me it was really bad and we needed to take Dad to the hospital. Turns out while the cut wasn't particularly large, it was very deep. He cut through a vein and it wouldn't stop bleeding. His hand had slipped when he was working under the car and he cut it on something. Fortunately the ER got him in right away and stitched him up. He was pretty nauseous and had to get a tetanus shot, but all is well now. And yes, he did come home and somehow manage to install the new radiator with very limited use of his hand. I am pretty sure the doctor would not approve of that one.

Several Orders Of Business

First of all, why do I dread giving my children baths? I mean, isn't spraying them off occasionally with the garden hose good enough? It is dirt season around here, as my freshly mopped floor can attest. (Note: it no longer looks freshly mopped) The kids are quite happy to spend hours a day digging in various sanctioned portions of the yard, and I am mostly happy to oblige. If it keeps them entertained, I'm all for it! But I must confess that if I could harvest the dirt that is clinging to my children right now, as they nap, I could probably start a cabbage patch or something. They are pretty filthy. I even sent them to church yesterday, covered in clean presentable clothing over their dirt streaked legs. Today is the day! Bathe them, I must! It's just that bath time leaves me with muddy footprints on the bathroom floor, which also happens to look like a small tsunami hit it. After which, the children will promptly find a way to besmirch themselves again. Sigh....

Secondly, not to keep harping on this...but TODAY is Jeff's LAST DAY of school EVER!!! After years of people asking 'is he finished yet?' I can finally say yes, he is! I also feel that I should have some sort of honorary degree in Mechanical Engineering for all the years of having him in school. :) The ironic part is, he is getting a degree in something he has been doing for years.

Third, and also Jeff-related. He told me this story the other night and I laughed so hard I cried. He went into the office of his germ-fearing coworker, and had the following one-sided conversation: 'Hey, Dwayne,** have you seen those new scented cakes in the urinals? I really like them. The only thing is, they really bother me when they aren't centered.' (his coworker stares at him) 'Thing is, they are really slippery. I don't know if it's algae growing on them or what, but they are hard to get a hold of.' At that point, his coworker was stunned and stammering his response. I am really thinking I should pin a disclaimer to Jeff's shirt everyday: Warning! Don't take me seriously!

**Name Changed**

I'm Tired Of School (And How We Got Here In The First Place)

Last week if officially hit me: I am sick of this semester already. I know, I know...he'll be done soon, and for that I am very grateful. I am just tired of Jeff being gone two nights a week, with homework in between. The kids have been getting upset when he leaves for work, or when he has school. They want their daddy, and they want him NOW! I keep reminding them, and myself, that it will be over soon. Yay! And when that day comes, I plan on throwing a big ol' par-tay. I will invite you, and the mailman, and the termite guy (even though we don't have one). I will even invite my brother's neighbor's cousin's half-sister's goats ex-owner, for crying out loud! A few days ago, I told the kids that I wanted to plan something special for Daddy since he was graduating. Katie suggested a cake. Of course! James suggested 'renting a clown.' I think that is right up Jeff's ally...ha! Seriously though, this has been a long time in coming.

And while I'm on the subject, wanna hear how Jeff ended up in school anyway? Did you know Jeff never even planned on going to college? He wanted to join the Air Force, but he was too tall, or maybe too blind...one of those. His plan B was to work. Jeff's high school career was less than stellar in the grade department and he never liked school. He scammed his way through the system and graduated when he was 16. He got credit for living at the farm, shooting prairie dogs, drinking Mountain Dew and eating Fireballs. No joke. He also took two periods of Teacher's Aid where he was in charge of the attendance records. There was one or two kids who he didn't get along with for whatever reason, and he would carefully erase their attendance mark here and there before scanning the card, then fill it in afterward. The offending student would get a phone call to their parents for their lack of attendance. That is how he earned enough credit to graduate early. He moved out at 16 and lived at the farm, where he was living when we met in 1998. I was going to college, and around that same time, his grandpa told him he should go to college and make something of himself. No one in his family, aunts, uncles, etc...went to college. He decided mostly to pacify his grandpa that he would apply, knowing that they would never accept him because of his GPA. Guess what? He got accepted. No problem, he thought. I'll still never be able to pay for it. Guess what? He got a full ride to pay for tuition, books AND living expenses. At that point, he ran out of excuses about college. The only problem was, he had to declare a major. He had no idea what he wanted to do. He picked up the book, flipped through and saw 'Computer Aided Drafting.' He thought it sounded interesting, from the short description provided. He wrote it down and went with it. Well, it turns out that he loved it, and was (is) very good at it. He was working many hours at the farm, and taking 19 credit hours per semester. He kicked some academic butt, bringing home almost all A's. There were times he wanted to quit, like when we took Algebra together. (He managed to avoid Algebra in high school...not sure how that's even possible) I wouldn't let him quit. I actually tutored him through that class, if you can believe that. It was the blind leading the blind. He soldiered on, in the mean time saving money for a laptop. Back in ye olden days, laptops were quite expensive. He wanted to have one so he could do his work at the farm and get ahead. He saved up $2400 and I remember going to Circuit City with him to buy the thing. It cost more than both our cars put together I think! It also cost more than our wedding, come to think of it. It wasn't long after that his grandpa came into town to visit. Thinking his grandpa would be proud, Jeff told him how he had saved for the laptop, and how he had been working hard and getting good grades. His grandpa looked at him, rather unimpressed, and said 'Well, I hope you don't end up being a bus driver.' That made smoke come out of my ears to say the least. But Jeff didn't give up. He finished up his Associate's Degree in CAD shortly before we got married. Once we moved here, we realized that a two-year degree was not going to cut the mustard and he needed to go for his Bachelor's degree in Engineering. The past ten years have been one class at a time, two or three classes a year, working toward the goal of a Bachelor's degree. So there you have it, the life and times of Jeff as a college student. I know God has been working from the beginning to put Jeff where he is today, but I am glad that this phase of that is almost over. We are all going to enjoy not having to share him with homework time anymore!

On The Ranch With Jeff: Feeding The Cows And The Time I Almost Killed A Horse

When Jeff lived on the ranch, he learned to drive a stick shift the hard way. His uncle took him out in the middle of a pasture, got out and walked home. Jeff was left to figure things out. If this had happened to me, I would have sat down in the pasture and cried. Then I would have made some dandelion chains and called it a day. But I happen to think that men have a certain mechanical aptitude that I personally do not possess. Jeff figured things out that day, and it became his job to feed the cows. The ranch truck was one of those hot-wired numbers where you have to hop on your left leg three times, say a hail Mary and start 'er up. Jeff would load it up with hay and head off toward the pasture. The main difficulty with this operation was that being two places at once is not on Jeff's list of skills and capabilities. This problem was remedied by a clever trick that they had been using for years. When he reached the pasture, he would point the truck uphill, put it in gear and get out. He would hop on the back of the truck and begin tossing hay down to the cows. Each bale was bound by two wires, which had to be cut and carefully tracked. Apparently cows can eat the wire along with the hay** and as you can imagine, that doesn't go over too well with the cow's digestive system. If he ended up with an odd number of wires he would have to jump off and find it. All the while, the truck would chug its way up the pasture, oblivious to any obstacles in its way. Whenever the truck was approaching a boulder, Jeff would have to jump off the truck and reach in the window to redirect the truck. Then he would hop back up and drop some more hay. How's that for a summer job?

**Speaking of animals swallowing dangerous things...true story...when I was in high school I had a friend who had horses. Technically speaking, they were her step mom's horses. One afternoon we took them out for a ride. I still don't know if this was actually sanctioned by the step mom, or if my friend took advantage of her absence to go for a ride. Regardless, we saddled up both horses and went for a ride in the woods. We came across a creek and my friend said she was going to see if she could get her horse to jump the creek first, and then mine would follow. As I waited for her to coax her horse over, my horse was happily grazing away. My friend jumped the creek and turned around to call me across. When she saw my horse grazing, she began to spout off a multitude of words that are in no way kosher for this blog. I was flabbergasted because I had no idea why she was freaking out that the horse was grazing. As it turns out, my horse was eating star thistles which are bad. Very bad. Apparently there is the potential for the horse to die. My friend is explaining all this to me, peppered with a whole list of expletives. I felt terrible. We coaxed the horse across the creek and raced home. When we got there, my friend stuck a hose down the horses throat to wash them away (not sure if this is the preferred method...). I very vividly remember her reaching her arm down the horses throat feeling around for the thistles. She kept saying how her step mother would kill her if something happened to the horse. It was pretty tense. For the next few days I was on edge, hoping that nothing happened to the horse. Fortunately nothing did and I don't think she ever told her step mom.

Trespassing: A Tale From The Franch

I was perusing ye old Franch files and found a few stories I forgot to post. Here is one:

 It was like a scene right out of a movie. I’ll do my best here to paint an adequate picture for you. It all started back at the farm. We spent all summer fixing up Jeff’s old Chevy pick-up. When Jeff had no farm work to do, we’d pull the truck up outside the shop and work. Sometimes we’d work at his Mom’s house too. The truck had significant rust damage, and let’s just say we used way more Bondo and duct tape than is recommended to restore the thing back to its original beauty. It was that summer that I earned the title of ‘Bondo Queen.’ I would do the Bondo and Jeff did the sanding. Anyway, after a summer of fixing up the truck, we had it painted. It sure turned out purdy. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Jeff was a poor college student commuting to and from school almost an hour each way, he decided to sell the truck and get something more fuel efficient. After all the work we had put into that truck, we decided to take it for one last hoo-rah. After all, that truck had gone on many a four-wheeling trip and had always served Jeff well. We decided to head out on Highway 6 &50, past Mack, and see where it went. We had never been much past the highly-esteemed Colorado Club. (Also known as the last stop on the edge of the edge, a seedy bar that attracted some really, shall we say, ‘interesting’ characters) To give you an idea of where we were, Mack is a town where there is all of 30 or so Post Office boxes. It is on the edge of the valley and consists of some very nice people and some very strange people. Like nudists, meth-heads, and other random assorted oddballs. West of Mack, well, there is a whole lot of nothing. It is only about 6 miles from the Utah border, in the desert. So, we headed off on the highway toward Utah. The highway pretty much disintegrated before our very eyes. The asphalt became more crumbly and patchy, and it was clear that the road was not frequently traveled or maintained. Somewhere around the Utah line, we decided to turn South. We just steered off the road onto BLM land and decided to see what was out there. We drove for several miles and of course, didn’t see a soul or any sign of civilization. Oddly enough, we ended up on some sort of ridge looking down on Rabbit Valley and the main interstate. There was no quick way to get down there, and as we soon realized, it was impossible. We decided to head back in the general direction we came, knowing we would eventually run into the highway. However! As it always seems to work, a fence appeared out of nowhere. A fence that stretched as far as we could see. I have no idea why or how we did not see it coming in, or how we got around it. Knowing we did not have enough gas left for a wild goose chase, we looked to find somewhere to pass through. We managed to find a gate in the barbed wire fence. Hanging at lengths along the fence were rusty old ‘No Trespassing’ signs, serving to ward off hooligans like us. Hanging on the gate was an even larger ‘No Trespassing’ sign, riddled with a few bullet holes seemingly put there for added emphasis. We decided we had no choice but to take our chances and head into whatever lay before us. I hopped out, opened the gate and closed it after the truck. We drove for quite a way before we saw what appeared to be the scene from a movie, off in the distance. There were a few rusty old trailers circled ‘round. There was your standard assortment of dilapidated old cars, surely housing the likes of raccoons, jackrabbits and other wildlife. There were rusty oil drums, broken tractor parts, and various ‘hey-I-might-use-that-someday’ odds and ends strewn about. I quickly told Jeff to slow down so we didn’t stir up too much dust. Nothin’ like trespassing on someone’s land and then stirring up a fit of dust to boot. So, we slowed to a crawl. That gave us time to spot them: three crusty old badgers sitting around in lawn chairs smoking and shooting the breeze. There may have been a can or six of beer sitting out. Clearly, they were sitting outside waiting for a UFO to fly over or something. Instead, they see a trail of dust in the distance, and a old but shiny green pick-up with two young whippersnappers driving up. My concern at this point was that they would take a shoot out one of our tires or something, just for sport and because we were trespassing. I was worried that since they clearly chose to live way beyond civilization, they would also feel beyond civilization's rules. And who wouldn’t want to have a little fun with two scared teenagers dumb enough to get lost and end up on private property with a near-empty gas tank? Jeff and I quickly debated the merits of stopping to explain ourselves vs. driving right past them. It became clear that we were the first human beings that had ventured into them-thar-parts in quite a while, as evidenced by their long stares. Every so often one of them would lean over and spit in the dirt. It really was like a movie, in slow motion. They didn’t take their eyes off of us, or we off them. We crept along, trying not to stir up dust, and decided that the best course of action would be to skip the pleasantries and head for the hills. So we did. We had to pass fairly close to these gents, and as soon as we were well enough past them, we sped up and high-tailed it for the highway. Fortunately, it wasn’t too much longer til we got to the road, and we managed to get to the ‘Last Chance Gas Station’ to fill up before we ran out of gas. That was close!

OTRW Jeff

When Jeff first started working at his current job, his coworkers were fascinated with his 'former life' in Colorado. All the stuff that seemed so normal to us was, apparently, very interesting. What?! You haven't skated around a dead steer with your honey? Oh. Back to my story. Jeff's coworkers loved to hear his stories, both of the farm he worked on in high school, and of his Uncle's ranch in Gateway, Colorado. They began to refer to these impromptu story times as 'On The Ranch With Jeff,' or OTRW Jeff for short. I have written about quite a few of our mutual tales from the farm (here), but not much about the ranch. My goal is to pester him  politely ask him to rehash the stories for me so I can record them for posterity. First, some background:

Jeff's Uncle lived and worked on a ranch in Gateway, Colorado, that had been in his family for several generations. Gateway is (was?*) a tiny little community so small that every graduate received a handmade quilt upon their graduation. (There were usually only one or two graduates, maybe three.) The ranch was 1500 acres, situated in a valley and running up to the mountain top. They had about 325 head of cattle. Jeff spent several months living and working on the ranch. He lived with his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin Amber.

And now on to the story (sorry...this post is getting out of hand!) Jeff had a new wrist-rocket style sling shot that he was dying to try out. He had found a handful of nuts (as in nuts and bolts) that fit quite nicely in his slingshot. He and his cousin were standing around outside the farm house while the chickens milled about. He saw a white chicken along the ditch bank and decided to take a shot at it. He hit what he was aiming for, and the chicken fell into the ditch. Jeff saw the mortified look on his cousins face and knew that he was in trouble. He was sure the chicken was dead. He ran to the ditch and reached in to grab the chicken. At the moment he reached in that chicken came to, flapping like crazy. It came flying out and scared Jeff half to death. I'm not sure who was more relieved in the end, Jeff or the chicken!

*I think Gateway has grown considerable since we moved, and for certain it has become much for commercialized. The owner of the Discovery channel decided he liked the area and began buying out everyone in sight. He said he wanted to keep the natural character of the place, then proceeded to build a big resort, a huge mansion complete with helicopter pad, and a car museum, among other things. 

Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

After spending the last few weeks basking in the glow of Christmas cheer, I am forced to admit that the party is over. Grandma went home yesterday. James started back to school today. Jeff is back to work. We really enjoyed having family around and checking fun things off our Christmas to-do list. We even made Jesus a birthday cake, albeit a few days after the traditional day. It was quite amusing...Katie helped me with the cake, and she did the frosting and sprinkles. When we were admiring her work, James came in and asked if he could have a piece. I told him yes. Katie looked up at me and said 'But I thought we made it for God?!' James fired back with some comment to the affect that God wasn't going to actually eat the cake, and that he didn't like cake anyway, he liked fish. :) Other fun highlights of our Christmas festivities include:

• Playing tiddlywinks with Grandma (that game is way harder than it looks!)
• The whole family reuniting in a little Rhythm Band awesomeness (a tradition from our childhood...Grandma and Grandpa made instruments for all the grandkids and we would play Jesus Loves Me and others with our home-made instruments)
• Finally having someone to play Bananagrams with! Oh, how I love Bananagrams. Jeff, however, does not. 
• The girls (Mom, Grandma, Nikia and I) going galavanting through the countryside to New Hope and a few other places. It was awesome!
• Baking, baking, baking! And eating, eating, eating!
• Did I mention eating? And Dad made omelets. Omelets! That pretty much means I was in butter-dripping bliss. 

In other random news, Jeff just might be able to double up this semester and take two classes, which would hopefully mean he would graduate!!!! We are praying that everything will fall into place for this, because it would be so nice for him to be done. (Remind me I said that in a couple weeks when he has classes two nights a week and homework all the other days, OK? Thanks!) 

The Par-tay

Oh, look! I have my eyes closed again! (My trademark, apparently...)

Jeff's party went pretty well, all things considered. I ended up meeting a cute little lady and her husband who are from China and moved to the US. They were new to the company so we sat with them, which means I didn't have to sit next to someone creepy or weird. She was really sweet and it was very interesting to talk to her about cultural things. Having her sitting next to me kept the awkward at bay, for the most part. I did have to roll my eyes when I met one of Jeff's coworkers and he had forewarned his girlfriend about Jeff. Awesome. His reputation proceeds him. I met another one of Jeff's coworkers and after a few minutes of superficial conversation, she told me that she was surprised I seemed normal because I had chickens. She said she was expecting someone 'more...uh...farmy.' That was funny. Who actually says that kind of thing out loud?

Here's my dress...finished with not much time to spare

It's That Time Of Year......

...for Jeff to bust out his giraffe-sized footie pajamas. Despite the fact that they make him look like a smurf on juice, he wears them quite often! I recently found out that my lovely sister in law thought the footies were just a joke. No, they are not! So here you go, proof that they exist! :)

My Husband Can Beat Up Your Husband

 Jeff informed James today that he could rip a Philadelphia phone book (~3" thick) in half. I laughed. I figured he was just messing around. Well, we found a dusty and unloved phone book in the garage. Does anyone use a phone book anymore? Anyway, Jeff went to work trying to rip the phone book in half. It was pretty amusing, really. There was a lot of grunting involved, but not a lot of anything else. The phone book remained in tact. Of course, I was really laughing at this point. I just knew he couldn't do it. He replied with a 'You don't think I can do it? Just watch me!' After expending quite a bit of effort, a small crack appeared in the phone book. I was still skeptical. Jeff kept at it and sure enough, he ripped the phone book in half! Consider me officially impressed (and proved wrong). I think we make quite a pair. Jeff can rip a phone book in half and I am armed with a monster rolling pin. ha, ha!!

When Your Teacher Is A Communist

Jeff has been taking a summer class from a professor that is a complete nut job. During the first class, he talked at length about his political views and criticized Obama for being too conservative. By the second or third class, it became clear that he is, according to his own description, a Communist/Socialist in his views. He spent a good length of time bashing America, and white people, and how they repress everyone else, mainly black people and women. He used derogatory terms and profanity to describe Americans who fought to establish this nation. He also talked about how children should not look up to their own fathers, rather to sports figures and super heroes. Guess what?! This isn't even a class about politics. He just uses the class as a platform to rant, rave and show bizarre and inappropriate movies so he doesn't have to teach. One student actually suggested that they watch a certain (very strange) movie and offered up his Netflix account. The teacher agreed, and they then spent the rest of the class watching some twisted and pointless movie. Originally, he had said that their grade would be based on two papers. A student suggested that they only have to write one paper, and he immediately agreed. So, their whole semester's grade is based on one paper. The kicker? As long as everyone puts in some sort of effort, no matter how meager, they are all getting A's, even the kid who was busted for plagiarism!!!! The moral of the story? When your teacher is a communist/socialist, you will get an A whether you deserve it or not.

You Want Me To Make What?!?!

Jeff called me yesterday from work. He told me he needed a favor and I knew it was going to be something ridiculous. Little did I know how ridiculous. As it turns out, he wanted me to make a librarian/Mr. Rodgers type sweater for a Smeagol (from Lord of the Rings) bobble head doll. This doll is seriously disturbing and to add to the difficulty, it has extremely large hands which means that I couldn't sew the sleeves together before putting it on. I had to sew them after putting the sweater on. The whole reason for this project is because he has a coworker who supposedly looks like Smeagol (he doesn't) and wears a librarian sweater (he does). Someone bought the doll and was trying to figure out how to make a sweater for it. Jeff volunteered me. I am pretty sure that this is the most bizarre sewing project EVER.

Things That Make You Go Huh???

The other night, the word on the street was that there were two weed whackers in someones trash!!!! (The explanation points are SARCASM.) We all know how Jeffrey is attached to his pet lawn mowers, all four of them. So it should be no surprise that his love for lawn grooming paraphanalia would also extend to weed whackers. (Oddly, though, he actually hates yard work) To his credit, the man does need himself a weed whacker. And he can fix anything. All this to say that Jeff decided to go liberate the weed whackers from their sentence to the landfill. It was only down our street, and he drove over and threw both weed whackers in the back of the truck. When he was driving back, there was a quick hiss and bam! The tire was flat as can be. He got out and looked, dumbfounded, to see a small stick poking out of the side of the tire. (Not the tread...the side!!) The stick was about 1/2 to 3/4 inch in diameter and 4 inches long. An old, brittle stick...not sharp at all. Two ladies happened to be walking by and heard the tire pop. They were just as shocked. We can't for the life of us figure out how in the world a stick like that could poke into the side of a tire but it is what it is....two broken lawnmowers for the low, low price of one new tire!

And another story that is kind of funny, if a bit sad: James came up to me the other day and was very serious: 'Mommy, Daddy never pooped when he was a little boy.' I said 'Yes, he did. Everyone does.' 'No,' he replied. 'Daddy never had food to eat when he was a little boy, and you only poop when you eat food, so he never pooped.' Jeff has told him in the past that when he was growing up there was never enough food and that they often only had one meal a day. (Which is, unfortunately, true) That must have kept coming up in James' mind, and he came to the conclusion that if you don't eat, well, you don't poop. That kid is always thinking!

Chickens and Nuclear Plants

The chickens are still alive!!! Woo!! They have eaten their weight in feed already. I only got up once in the night to check on them. They need to be warm (90-95 degrees) but I also didn't want to end up with roasted chicken. I was paranoid that the temperature would magically spike up but it didn't. We go back today for the Delaware, so then we will have the whole crew. So far, we have named the Rhode Island Red and the Americana. Their names? Patty (get it? Chicken Patty? I crack myself up! ) and the other one James named 'Big Martha,' because she is bigger than the others. Leave a comment if you have any name ideas.

Jeff has been incredibly busy with a project at work. He was even on a conference call starting at 10:15 last night. Its around the clock! He has basically lived at a nuclear facility all week. He has already sprouted a third arm, which is going to come in really handy when fixing the car. Saves me from having to help!! Just kidding. They are very careful about making sure that no one receives more the 'safe' dose of radiation, or something like that. Poor Jeff, he has worked 18-20 hour days plus an 1.25 hour drive, which as you can see leaves no time for sleep. Then yesterday afternoon he found out he had to go to Pittsburg...in an hour or two. Lovely. Its been a bit crazy around here because of all this. So, would you like to hear a few tidbits about going to a nuclear plant? Of course you would! First of all, you have to have a nuclear clearance. They do various checks on your before you can ever set foot in the place. (Jeff has had that for a long time now) Then you have to go through various layers of security. It can take 30-60 minutes, or more. One of the steps is to go through a 'puffer.' That is a device that sends blast of air past you and collects the air on the other side. Then they analyze the air to make sure you are not carrying explosives. The guards all have their M-16s and handguns at the ready (not slung over their shoulders). Once through all that, you have to have an escort babysit you the entire time. If you have to pee, the whole group has to go with you. (Well, at least they wait outside the door for you) If you have to get a paper off the copy machine, the whole group goes together. Jeff doesn't have a work laptop with him (which he needs) but the plant computers have so many firewalls and security features that you can't do much at all. Every tool/implement/etc. has to be on a lanyard, to prevent it from falling into any part of the equipment. You can't climb a ladder without leather gloves. Since only a few people had gloves, they had to climb up and throw the gloves down to the next person. The nuclear industry is very, very regulated to make sure that the plant remains safe. Even 'checking out' of the facility takes about a half an hour. They scan you for radiation when you leave. Its all quite a process. Jeff and I will both be very happy when this ordeal is over (hopefully by next week). He's supposed to get back late tonight, and hopefully he was able to sleep for a few hours last night. (He didn't get in to Pittsburg til after midnight)

(This is totally unrelated to anything in Japan in case you are wondering. I feel terrible that those people have the worry of radiation on top of the other disasters there.)

I'll try to post more chick pictures later. :)

Random Bits

• Tyler now know plays peek-a-boo, says 'Uh-oh' all the time, and several other words
• He still hasn't learned that he word 'No' does, indeed, apply to him
• Katie bought a package of 9 'wings' (rings) from the dollar store, which she wears...all at once...and gets upset if one of her 'wings' falls off
• James is mad that the snow hasn't melted off his 'farm' so he can do his farm chores
• Jeff spent the weekend fixing both of our cars in the 29 degree weather. Despite my fervent prayer that the Impala would somehow roll out into the street and get hit by the trash truck (while Jeff wasn't working on it, of course), the car has now been restored to its previous condition (AKA Running, but barely)
• Dad preached at church yesterday, and I actually listened to him! (unlike the days of my youth when I was not in the least bit interested in listening to my Dad preach) It was a darn good sermon, I might add. I brought James up with us so he could hear his Chappy preach and for the first half, he sat there like a little man, hands folded and listening intently. After that, he stayed quiet by drawing pictures on the bulletin. (I have drawn MANY a picture on church bulletins...in fact I used to draw the backs of peoples heads and make Mom guess who they were. Good ol' Evora Rippey wouldn't flinch during an entire sermon so she was quite an easy subject.)
• See, I told you that would be random! So random, I can't even come up with a cohesive conclusion. Have a good one!
  

More Garden Pics

Some of the lights: the pictures don't do it justice

This garden was closed, but we could see a lot of it from the gate. It reminded me of chocolate cakes dusted with powdered sugar!

In the 'Silver' garden: the really tall cactus was called 'Mexican Fence Post,' and you can see the 'Old Man Cactus' on the bottom (there was also a similar, furry palm tree called the Old Man Palm Tree) The Christmas tree in there was very pretty, with Dusty Miller and sage interspersed through a blue spruce (?)

In the orchid room: its smelled very good in there!

Big Leaf Hydrangea looks like shooting stars; funny sign at the Children's Garden, Jeff posing with a flower in his 'hair' and I use that term loosely ;)

In the Children's Garden: the pelican fountain was my favorite; Jeff pretending to be trapped inside the tunnel

In the Children's Garden

A Christmas Tree for the wildlife: everything was edible! Not surprisingly, this tree was full of birds.

One end of the beautiful library: all of the book shelves had glass doors, and there was a hidden door to a powder room at the other end.

Longwood Gardens was built by Pierre Dupont who owned the Dupont company, and helped run General Motors. He was, by my highly scientific estimation, filthy stinkin' rich. He gave lots of money away to the community, and poured who knows how much cash into his Longwood estate. He was fascinated by both plants and water, and so he made sure he was surrounded by both...in large quantities! From what we heard, he designed a good deal of the water fountains himself. (They were closed while we were there) The Duponts loved to have people visit the gardens and set up a structure to enable to the gardens to go on in perpetuity. Its pretty amazing that a) someone had enough money to do something like this, and b) that he wanted to make sure it was always open to visitors. I look forward to seeing it again in the spring or summer.