It was a good day....

It was a good day......   
                               strawberry shortcake breakfast in bed,
                               hand made cards & handpicked flowers,
                               a beautiful musical number performed special for me,
                               lots and lots and lots of driving.... surprisingly peaceful driving,
                               and a visit with Mom and Dad.................

                          

And who could forget, just above this mom and her three babes................. Was this mom and her three babes..................

 

                           One.......

                                                                             Two.......
      

   











                                                                                                                                                                                      Three.....

Thanks for the special gift!

                                                                   

Another Man's Trash....

'What's that?', it's a totally ligitamint question, but I can't tell you exactly.... a giant wind chime, a tin can curtain, rain collectors that I hung upside down????  I can tell you that it took two years of soaking tin cans before I was satisfied with their amount of rust.... and that my children love clanking them.

I'm not surprised with the large amount of raised eyebrows and shoulder shrugs they receive.... to each their own.... right?  I have to admit that often my line is blurred between what is trash and what is treasure.  This is especially true when it comes to items that adorn my yard.  Why throw it away when I can find a way to reuse it.  An old trunk can serve as a plant stand.  A bunch of found broken concrete if arrange just right, can make a curvy rustic pathway.  And old bricks are truly special, they each have a story, so often we find them on our hikes and walks, and they really aren't too awkward to carry when I have a perfect spot for them in the garden. 

Most of my outdoor decorating is skeptically received.  More than once I've had to defended my Saturday morning yard sale finds to Monte.  He claims that he just eventually gives in, but I think he likes having an outdoor sink.

And most summer days he'll opt for showering with wind in his hair (?) and peeping birds at his feet.

He grumbled when I begged him to let me keep the cool old sun stamped metal shower floor.  I promised him that one day I would be able to reuse it.  It was a negotiation, the postponement on the completion of our second bathroom that had already sat stale for six months, for one outdoor shower.  So after six years, I was finally able to pull my old shower floor from it's hiding spot in the garage.

Another year later and the postponement is still in effect, but I do have a great seasonal second shower, and really it wasn't much of a compromise.

On our ten year wedding anniversary, the year symbolized by both aluminum and tin, I found Monte a couple of cool old aluminum street signs, I paid a few dollars a piece for.  Do you want to know what Monte spent on my 10 year anniversary present?  Nothing, it came from the dirt, literally, found it while at work that day.  An old rusty tin paint can, with a transplanted mountain columbine flower planted inside, it was.....  perfectly beautiful.  It only took 10 years, but he finally figured me out.   

It's not only his gifted rusty tin paint can, but also old tool boxes, rusted out watering cans, broken enamel washing bins, even an old milking container gets a second life in the garden.  I think just about anything looks great filled with something green and growing.  I can't decide if I buy plants to fill the excessive amount of rusty containers I have, or do I collect rusty old containers to house the excessive amount of plants I buy.  Either way it's best if I avoid junk yards and nurseries all together.

I was on a mission, I needed just one six pack of pansies for the small planter the boys had painted for their grandmother for Mother's day.  Mission accomplished, I had my pansies.   Maybe I'll just take a look around on my way to checkout.....wait.... is that a distressed plant rack??? 

 
Mission failed.... another battle lost.... but how could I resist at only a dollar or two a piece, and I have just the right planter to put them in.

I worked at a frantic pace filling each recycled planter.  I knew I should have been making dinner, or helping children with homework, but I had evidence to get rid of, and the children were far more pleasant playing outside then grudgingly doing work sheets in the house.  By the time Monte pulled into the driveway, I was shoving the last pansy in his mothers painted planter gift.  He didn't suspect a thing, and really I'd done him a favor, I usually ask for my flower pots, in both the pottery and rubbish variety, to be filled for Mother's day.  I'd just given him a huge head start.  I gave a sigh of relief as he manuvuered past me making his way into the house.

I peacefully walked around the yard, admiring my trashy treasures and all of my hard work, and then it hit me, like a ton of my own old, chipped, recycled pile of bricks....  sure maybe our style is drastically different, and my 'yard art' isn't in pink flamingo form.... but it's true what they say.... I'd already cursed her this morning for her gift of a crooked front tooth, and my nose, is it getting bigger?  And now this.... proof that everyday I become a little more like my mother.  But for today.... I've decided.... that being more like my mother is a good thing.  Happy Mother's Day Mom!

"All women become like their mothers.  That is their tragedy.  

No man does.  That is his."   -Oscar Wilde

Impressions

Some days the house is still clean when Monte gets home from work.... most days.... it isn't.  Some days I wash, comb, and even style my hair.... most days.... it's in a bun.  Some days I have only one laundry pile.... most days.... I have three.   Some days I feel frustrated knowing that I'll never have my old body back.... most days.... I just eat the cookie.  Some days we live the high life and I buy the name brand toilet paper.... most days.... it's Western Family.... Some days it's hard being a mother of three rambunctious young boys.... but most days.... it isn't.  Happy Mother's Day!

Joining Mamabyrd in her weekly 'impressions' post.

Through His Eyes

My funny Abe, I love hearing his view on nature, catching brief glimpses through his eyes.  His love for the outdoors is evident in his numerous rock, stick and dirt collections.  He works side by side with me in the yard, collecting worms as I turn the soil, 'This is a daddy worm, this one is a baby, this one is a big brother, and this one ..... is dead.'.  He always seems so surprised when his pet worms disappear when he leaves them for a jump on the tramp.  He loves his discoveries of crawling creatures. 

He used to bring me all sorts of bugs... rolly pollies, bees, spiders, beetles, flies, wasps, each clutched in between two tiny fingers.  Then one day a wasp stung him, he was hurt both physically and mentally.  Despite my warnings, he still brought me bugs in the same manner, then he was stung again.  After being stung about six times he stopped bringing me bugs.  Last week I was surprised with his choice of bug catching gear when he excitedly told me he was going out to the yard for some bug hunting.  Boots, gloves, an over sized bug cage, and an Ironman helmet, plenty of protection....  I guess the the memory of numerous stings hurts more a year later.  From two to three he's learned it's better to be safe than sorry.  I learn so much from him.   

Did you know that snakes only have a dad?  Yes, a creature that disgusting couldn't possibly have a mother, he's obviously heard of my distaste for them.  I think he's made the same assumption about lizards.  But everything else in nature comes in pairs, usually a mother and a baby.  Mother flowers with their babies, a mama tree with it's tiny babe,  baby birds with their moms, even the imaginary animals he shoots with his pretend arrows come in mom and baby form.  What can I say, he loves the relationship between a mom and a baby.  His love is what brings me dozens of kisses, hugs, and gifts each day. 

Who doesn't love when a man brings you flowers..... well I'm not bragging, but I get dandelion bouquet everyday.  Jo brings me a couple of these flowers a week, he loves it when I tuck them behind my ear.  Sol sometimes brings me a fist full, picked on the walk home from the bus stop.  But Abe, he spoils me, he is so diligent in his picking it's rare to see a yellow blossoms in our lawn (well, it was).  I have a row of bottles, filled with Abe's picked dandelions, in my kitchen window.  Usually dandelions don't live too long after they're picked, so everyday I'm alternating yesterdays withered yellow remains with today's newly picked flowers.  But I did have one bottle full that must have been picked just right, because not only did they live several days, but they even went to seed..... I felt pretty special.  

I have so much to learn.... a desire to hear more.... a yearning to spend time with one full of innocent knowledge... and lucky me.... I have the perfect small man to see.

'Sloppy Otters' Mexican Restaurant, Can I Take Your Order?

'The Sloppy Otter', it really started out as a joke, just a funny tittle Monte gave our soon-to-be family ran restaurant.  Using an abbreviation of my maiden name, and his love for Sloppy Joes, he'd figured it all out, even gave each of my family members a roll in his business plan.  Wait... what was my role.... waitress.... maybe.... I can't remember, but I do remember the roles of others.  My Brother, the cook, obviously for his natural love of food.  My Mother would run the business end, she was always great with numbers.  And my Father, being the inherent handyman he was, would keep everything running in tip top shape.  Evidently Monte's roll as business owner, allowed him to have the final say on each menu item...... only Sloppy Joe variations.  That was over ten years ago, but that name has stuck.
 
What do we name the pretend store/restaurant the children set up in the front room.... 'The Sloppy Otter'.  What about Sloppy Joes for dinner, where do I serve them from.... 'The Sloppy Otter'.  And when I cleaned out an old chicken coop, giving the boys a corner club house, what was the name we painted on the sign hung above the door...... 'The Sloppy Otter'.  So this evening was I surprised when I asked what they were going to name their Mexican cuisine restaurant....  not at all..... 'Sloppy Otters' Mexican Restaurant was the perfect name for their al fresco dinning experience.

As a weak attempt to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, I decided on Tacos for dinner.  When I realized friends were joining us for the evening I slightly increased my effort and gathered what I could find to make some sort of festive dessert.... cookies, old gumballs, crushed aging ice cream cones, and two eager little helpers.  What did we come up with.... little edible sombreros????  But leave it to the creativity of six children to transform our predictable meal into a fun event. 

Some of the best play happens when I completely stay out of it.  They set tables, made menus, even a set up a place to pay your bill.  I was just a bystander in their production.  I did step in when I overheard their plans to invite the neighbors to their eating establishment.  What I witnessed through an open window as I chopped lettuce and flipped quesidillas was magical, I'd never been so content in my role as a short order cook.    

So the next time you're in the area, and ready for a truly unique dinning experience, stop by the 'Sloppy Otter', tell them that Syrina sent you..... my advice..... stay away from the Sloppy Sunny Side Up (exactly what it sounds like)..... go for the Vege Joe, it's not too bad..... and maybe.... if you're lucky there will be a couple of young servers hanging around to guide you to your seat.

 

Impressions

I've realized the success of our day and the condition of our laundry coincide.  This week I've tossed two sets of mud encrusted cloths in the wash, evidence of the excitement to test the water temperature at the lake (it was a cold bike ride home).  A couple of pair of shorts soaked to the waistband in swampy water from the discovery of two new forts down in the 'cat tails'.  Chocolate smears from a shared cookie, some milk drool from some fun assisted animal feeding, the typical grass and mud stains, even some applesauce left behind from my tiny lap guest.  I've never been so happy to buy my laundry supplies in bulk, even last night while stain treating a mysterious brown spot from a pair of pants, what was it.... mud..... chocolate..... or goat poop?  Mud, chocolate, or goat poop...... the exact reason why I love living where I live.....I'm curious and full of wonderment of what stains I'll be treating tonight.

Impressions

It was quite the show.  We did have a couple cases of stage fright jitters, but the talent was astonishing.  We had a dancing singing butterfly, a sung performance of the ABC's, an amazing display of hopping skills, a dancing ballerina, and my personal favorite....one little boy's presentation of a battling superhero.