May14, 2014

Today was the day.

The last day that I could wait without word of the next step for the interview in D.C.

I sent a quick email and got a quick reply.

The HR department needed a little nudging it seems.

So...we agreed on a date to pursue. 

I had asked for one travel day to be a weekend day (Monday or Friday) to make it a bit easier to arrange care for Harry and to get a ride to the airport as well.

It's an hour's drive to the airport from my Mother's house and I would have to fly from Madison to Chicago and then on to D.C., so expecting an overnight stay was most reasonable.

The reply suggested May 26th?

I quickly answered, "Great!!"

I sent the plan to Mom so that she could start to make her plans to care for Harry and to tell her co-workers what day she might need to adjust her hours a little.

Before any of that planning could happen, Mom let me know that May 26th was actually Memorial Day.

Another email back to D.C. 

And a return email.

New date? Tuesday, May 27th.  

Sigh.

Sigh of relief, that is.

Another step closer...

.....

Mother's Day was a nice day filled with a few little surprises.

I'm still really just getting used to the idea of being celebrated on Mother's Day.

Harry greeted both Grandma and me with a cheery little song, "Happy Mother's Day to You," sang to the tune of Happy Birthday, of course.

Harry loves to sing and he's got a sweet little singing voice.

And of course, a smile that will melt any Mother's heart.

It was bath day for Harry, so we started with a walk down the road to the pond to check the blooming progress of the Trout Lilies and Trillium and to check the water level of the pond.

Walking with Grandma, still in his PJs.

Trillium. Three leaves, three petals.

After bath, we drove to the Riverside & Great Northern Railway station for a Mother's Day ride and were surprised to find that Mothers were given complimentary rides to celebrate the day. The only paid ticket was Harry's.

We've ridden this train quite a few times. The railway just started running again on the weekends, after a long winter, and will run every day after Memorial Day. 

Riverside & Great Northern Railway Station.

Harry LOVES trains and so does Grandma, so it seemed like the thing to do for a special little treat on Mother's Day.

Open roof seating - a new adventure.

Watching the engine turn around.

When our ride was over and Harry had pretended to be a train chugging all the way, back and forth, down the unused tracks a couple of times, we went for lunch at a local landmark, Monk's Bar. Monk's is home to a very fantastic tasting hamburger and has served locals and tourists alike for decades.

I ordered the hand-twisted pretzel for Harry. He likes bread and salty things, so I thought we'd give it a try. The pretzel came with French Fries, cheese sauce and a chocolate chip cookie.  

I guess that's Monk's idea of a well-balanced meal for a young child? 

Harry attacked the fries ravenously.  

He must have been very hungry because he hasn't eaten French Fries in well over 2 years.

He did ask me to take the gooey, orange (a color of orange not found in nature) cheese sauce off his plate, happily offering it to me. 

Yuk.

When he had almost finished off the fries, he caught site of the small cookie and devoured that as well.

Harry's "meal" came with a Frisbee. It was bright red plastic with Monk's logo emblazoned across the middle in bright white.

From Monk's we motored on to Culver's for a frozen custard in a cone.

When we got to the pay window of the drive through, we were asked, "Is anyone a Mom? To which we answered a hearty "yes, two of us." Our cones were free. 

Happy Mother's Day.

Thank you, Mr. Culver.

Then it was home to relax in the living room. Mom and I both put our feet up as Harry played happily on the floor with his trains.

It was a good day to be a Mom. 

But then, every day is a good day to be a Mom.

.....

I have been lovingly watching the progress of the rhubarb plants as they grow just outside the chicken coop across the road in the barnyard...and I've been waiting.

I waited as the plants sprouted from the ground, pushing their way to break the surface of the soil and start to grow.

Sprouting rhubarb.

I waited as their big, beautiful green leaves unfurled from the center of the plant and reached toward the sun. The leaves measuring over a foot long.

Beautiful leafy green rhubarb plant.

I waited as the leaves grew and grew, nurtured by the rainfall and warmer temperatures.

I waited, and listened with particular interest, as my sister one day proclaimed. "I think it's ready. And I think Tuesday's the day." 

Picked and ready.

I waited as my sister cut the leaves from the stems and peeled back the stringy growth.

Preparing the rhubarb.

The discarded leaf.

I watched her as she rolled the dough on her kitchen table and I waited as she made a plain old, two crust, rhubarb pie...from scratch.  

My all-time, most favorite pie in the world.

Rhubarb pie, ready for the oven.

I waited as it baked in the hot oven. 

The crust browned lightly as the insides started to bubble and ooze. The rhubarb softened as it cooked, melting into the gooey mixture under the thin crust.

Mmmmmm. 

I had a hearty serving. 

A la mode.

It was well worth the wait.

May 9, 2014

Another random thought day...

It seemed as though it was just moments after I clicked the "publish" button for my last post, that the Indigo Bunting, (named for its deep, deep blue coloring) joined the rest of the bright color play at the feeders outside the kitchen window.

And as did the others, its numbers multiplied exponentially as the day went on.

The Indigo Bunting.
(Courtesy of the Reader's Digest North American Wildlife Guide) 

Spring has finally arrived in Wisconsin.

.....

I spent the day yesterday on my computer.  

The first order of business was to fill out some official forms (online) making me an official candidate for the position I will be interviewing for. The forms (and miscellaneous paperwork) trigger the proper protocol in the Human Resources Department and are required in order to continue the formal interview process. 

I'm really thrilled to be at this juncture.  

Really thrilled.

If everything goes as I would expect it to, I will be happily (and gainfully) employed at an amazing and respected organization, almost to the day of my first day of unemployment.

I've been unemployed an entire year.

Hard to comprehend. 

Tough to believe.

Grateful for where I am now.

.....

I also did a small favor for my niece Sarah.

She is the weekend Hostess at Howie's Restaurant. That was where I got my first job.

It's not the same building, but it's the same restaurant.

I started bussing tables when I was 14 years old, was promoted to waitress and soon was the first one in, in the morning, to open the breakfast service.

I had to set all the tables with the appropriate condiments, mostly an array of little grape and strawberry jelly packets. Make sure the syrup containers were filled and wiped clean of the layers of stickiness that covered them by midday. Put on the 6 coffee pots. And wait for the crowds to rush through as soon as the doors opened.

It was a very popular place for the tourists...and quite an economical venture.

Back then, Howie's was known for Howie's HUGE BREAKFAST: 1 egg, 2 pancakes, hash browns, toast & jelly, and I'm pretty sure a choice of bacon, ham or sausage. All that for 99 cents.

It's still called Howie's HUGE BREAKFAST, but there's no bacon, ham or sausage and it's $4.95.

I remember that people complained because coffee or orange juice wasn't included! 

And tips were in pennies, dimes, nickels and quarters. I still managed to haul in the cash because of the sheer number of people who came through those doors.

And Howie? Well....

He was a very.....Hmmmmm?  He was a very...eclectic personality.

I can picture him vividly still, his measured gate as he walked back and forth, hurriedly, from the kitchen to the dining room making sure everything was moving at the pace that he set. Yelling orders to the cooks and then to the waitresses, to the bus people and then to his family members, who all worked at the restaurant.

His face was always moist from the heat of the kitchen. His hair, longer on the top than the sides, would fall down over his forehead in a curled, tousled manner, kind of like the young Elvis. (More about him, later.)

Anyway, the menu hasn't been revamped in years. Some offerings listed were no longer offerings, prices had changed and changed again. 

My niece asked if I could reorganize and rewrite the menu "using my computer."

Coming from the industry that I come from - and having lived in sizable cities most of my adult life - I sometimes forget that not everyone has a computer or the skills to use it.

So, I quickly agreed and took on the project.

It took much longer than I thought it would, but it's done.  It is organized. It looks good. The words are all spelled correctly (there were some problems with Chipotle and Smiley, as in Smiley Face Pancakes).

My niece is happy. And she has a most wonderful smile when she's happy.

.....

As for Elvis?

I had another 15 or more boxes to sort through that were all labeled as "Paula's."

They were filled with High School Yearbooks, College Yearbooks, Photography books; souvenirs from my trip to Europe my senior year of high school (funded by working at Howie's and another restaurant, The House of Embers); and mementos from my world travels aboard the luxurious cruise ship, the Royal Viking Sky, as the onboard newspaper editor of the daily publication, The SKALD.

That 10-month stint aboard the Sky is topic for another day...especially since I found some notes, in one of those boxes that I made while sailing the seas.  I wouldn't call it a diary, but it's enough to remind me of the flavor of those 10 months. 

It was actually a 12-month contract, but we ran aground on a coral reef near the Dominican Republic and had to be towed off as salvage...as the passengers were served champagne and snacks. 

Food does a lot to soothe emotions, and there was a lot of food on that ship!

I digress.

Back to Elvis.

I found pictures of the men in my life.  My teenage, "oh, isn't he the cutest?" life. 

I, like countless teenage girls before me (and after me), pasted, taped and otherwise attached pages of magazines displaying my "heartthrob" of the moment onto the walls of my bedroom, the closet and anything else with a flat surface. 

At any one time, the pictures might include Elvis, Bobby Sherman, Randolph Mantooth (he was the guy from the 70s television show, "Emergency"), the Osmond brothers and The Jackson 5.

The men in my life.

Elvis photos from my bedroom wall, 1972.

Be still my beating heart.

It's the same bedroom that Harry and I share today. But the walls are covered with Harry's (and Mommy's) artwork instead of a young Elvis with the quivering lip.

Our bedroom wall, 2014.

.....

Harry has been fortunate to have had all the opportunities that he's had. Exposing him to new adventures and experiences has been a wonderful thing to share. 

There were things that we used to do with regularity in the big city, like visiting the New England Aquarium, going on a whale watch out of Boston Harbor, visiting the parks and museums. There are many, many things that he has seen and done for his very young age.

But he's also very fortunate to be getting his "country" education.

He's like an old farm hand around the "barn yarn" (as he calls it.) He isn't phased by going into the Fallow Deer Jurassic Park-like pen, surrounded by 30 or so deer; visiting the chickens to collect freshly laid eggs; petting the turkey (yes, petting the turkey); climbing the hay bales in the barn or greeting Sa a la Russian in a deep horse-style whinny while he strokes his muzzle. That's the horse's nose for us city folk.

Afternoon climbing in the barn.

Harry is right at home in the country.

In addition to the farm animals, he has seen a fox, rabbits, a raccoon, wild turkeys, cranes, egrets, White Tail deer, Bald Eagles, turkey vultures, assorted other birds (including the array at the bird feeders) and a skunk.

Harry and Grandma and I were returning from an evening walk in the big woods.  We were almost at the intersection with my sister's driveway when we saw it.  The skunk, that is.

It was waddling slowly down the road and then it seemed to just fall over.  

It was odd to see a skunk during the daylight hours, of course, because they are nocturnal.

We quietly took the turn down the driveway.  

Grandma explained to Harry, how important it was not to startle the skunk, and to be...as...quiet...as...possible.  

"Shhhhh," she said as she put her finger to her lips. 

I stuck my head in the door to warn those inside about the skunk on the road.

My brother-in-law asked where it was, exactly. And after we left, taking the path through the woods back to Mom's house, the same observation was made inside the house: odd to see a skunk in the daylight.

Gil went to investigate.  The skunk would waddle slowly for a few steps and then seemingly just fall over. After a short while, it would waddle again for a few steps and then fall over.  It continued almost to the end of the road when it took a turn into the alfalfa field.

Gil determined that there was certainly something wrong with the animal. Maybe it was sick? A skunk doesn't normally expose itself in broad daylight and down the middle of an open road. Gil decided to get his gun and shoot it.  

The skunk could make other animals sick (like the barn cats) that it might come in contact with and it was just plain better to be safe than to let it go.

Harry watched as Gil walked to the end of the road and shot the skunk...twice.

I explained why we had to shoot the skunk.  I said that a sick animal could make other animals sick.

Honestly, Harry was more interested in the gun than the skunk and according to Miss Margie was shooting things in school the next day. 

That led to another conversation.

When Harry came home from school, he wanted to know where the skunk was.  I explained that it was still in the alfalfa field until Uncle Gilbert could bury it. 

He wanted to see it.

We walked over to the field to take a look.  I continued to explain to Harry why the skunk had to be shot and about it probably being sick. I talked about how the cycle of life works in nature.

Harry held my hand tightly as we approached.

Dead skunk in the alfalfa.

Before I could stop him...or even knew what was happening...he bent over and petted the skunk. 

It was actually a sweet gesture, but I let out a VERY loud "NOOOOO" as I screamed and hurriedly explained why it wasn't a good idea to pet a dead (and probably sick) skunk.

"But he's my friend," Harry explained.

We went into the house and I used about 5 Clorox wipes to clean each of Harry's hands, even though he only actually touched the skunk with one.

Country life lessons....learned.

.....

Harry is also excited to see the recycling man every other Wednesday.

I'm not sure that it's mutual.

The recycling man has had to deal with a sizable increase of recycling activity at this address in the last several months, since Harry and I have come to stay.

After a couple of Wednesdays, arriving to find monstrous piles of bundled old magazines, he actually asked me one morning if that's what it was "going to be like from now on." 

If it was, he was going to have to "bring another truck."

Magazines piled at the end of the driveway.

Harry on "Recycle Wednesday."

I assured him, despite my finding a few hundred more magazines in the months to come, that it would slow down a bit from our initial offerings.

Then there's the plastic.

The plastic yogurt cups and the water bottles.

Mom has a yogurt a day.  I do the same. Harry has 3 or 4 a day. If you do the math, that's somewhere around 70 yogurt cups in two weeks. Add to that the plastic water bottles (Harry loves water) and you have a considerably large pick-up every other Wednesday.

The favorite: Mango. Honey Vanilla runs a close second.

.....

We burned off the "prairie" last night.

It didn't burn very well after a day of several brief little showers, but most of the old grass is gone to make way for the new growth.  

We can plant the wildflower mix that I sent Mom a couple of years ago.

The old berry bushes will have to be cut down and mowed over.  The pine tree from the front yard was too green to burn, so we'll have to carry that out to the burn pile for a more intense heat.

Mom said that in years past, it has "really taken off," burning the small section in just minutes.

Harry was really excited and he didn't stop talking the ENTIRE time we were outside.

There was a bright spot, of course, to all that chatter.

At least I knew exactly where he was...even through all the smoke!

May 7, 2014

It hailed a little while ago.  Yes, hailed.

Apparently there is a funky weather pattern out there that is moving through our area and messing with the early morning predictions of a partly cloudy day with a 72-degree high.

It is no where near 72 degrees.

I was so focused on an imminent phone call from my prospective employer (just to clear up a few lingering issues before proceeding with the more formal interview in DC) that the hail didn't register in my brain for what it was.

I was sitting at my desk and heard what sounded like very heavy, large rain drops...or...as I considered it further, hail.  

When I looked out the window, I confirmed that it was dime-sized hail pummeling the ground.

But at the point of confirmation, things just did not connect in my brain enough to remember that my 4Runner was sitting just outside the garage, most recently parked in the driveway.

Argh.

The 4Runner has seen hail only once before. 

Mom had flown to Texas to drive home to Wisconsin with me on my 40th birthday.  We had been driving toward a ferocious looking "wall cloud" on a highway in Iowa, when Mom commented, "I sure hope it doesn't hail." 

Before the last word of her expressed concern ("hail") even passed over her lips to enter the air outside of her mouth...it started to hail.

I blamed her.

I still do. 

I blame her, even though I realize that particular hail storm was more at the hand of Mother Nature than my Mother.

We took cover off the first highway exit, under a concrete shed. I think the shed was used to store highway equipment.  

Any shelter in a storm, as they say.

We have laughed about that story for the past 13 years, and will still.

My 4Runner is a 1998, but I still love it dearly, as if I just bought it yesterday.

I don't think the hail storm was of a duration (or size) to do much damage, but I'll know that for certain soon enough.

The phone call went well and we are making plans for me to travel soon.

Sigh.  

That...was a sigh of relief.

.....

I completed the installation of the last (and final) device in our quest for mole eradication.

The Transonic Mole (electronic mole & gopher chaser) boasts a three-in-one sensory assault on moles and gophers, the former being our concern.

It vibrates.

It flashes a light (only visible during darkness.)

It emits a quite annoying sound every 30 seconds.

I assembled two of them, dug holes (preferably in a burrow), and pushed them down into the ground as instructed, so that the head of the device protrudes from the surface of the lawn, allowing the flashing lights to do their trick when darkness falls.

The final chapter of our assault.

The seemingly "annoyed" animals pictured on the package.

Certainly, by the addition of this last device, we have created a "hostile" enough environment so that the little guys will choose to go elsewhere.

We remain hopeful...

.....

I continued my improvement projects around the house and lawn yesterday by cleaning up an area where an old shed was taken down some years ago. 

The shed was used to store firewood used in a wood burning stove in the basement that supplemented the furnace heat years ago. It also stored some tools and various miscellany. 

It was brought to the ground, but not dismantled, nor was it carried away to the junk yard.

I spent four hours sorting, hauling, raking, shoveling, sweeping and piling.  

The remains of the shed.

The wood from the shed is decayed, but there are huge nails in the boards that held it all together.  I don't know if the wood will dry out enough to burn, but it's worth a try because otherwise we will have to pay a fee for disposal at a dumpsite.

The metal can be hauled away by my brother-in-law.  That can be taken for recycling and he'll be payed for the materials.

Of course, that was what was supposed to have happened years ago too.

Tools of the trade.

Perhaps I should suggest of split of the profits to compensate for all my hard work in sorting, hauling, raking, shoveling, sweeping and piling?

Worth considering.

Oh, and...I did not sustain any injuries during those four hours. 

Well...ones worth mentioning, anyway.

.....

Along with all the brightly-colored blooming spring flowers around the yard and pond, have come the brightly-colored birds.

I trimmed out a large, old, dead branch from the apple tree where the bird feeders hang because it would surely only take one strong wind to bring it to the ground anyway. 

Mom had pointed out that same morning, that we had a new bird at the feeder.  One she had been expecting for the last week. 

Obviously, the birds have seasonal migrations and appear in her yard in phases, according to the calendar.  

We had gotten used to the bright red of the Cardinals and the vivid blue of the Blue Jays, and even the amazing markings of the two kinds of Woodpeckers - the Red-headed Woodpecker (who almost seems to be dressed in a neatly pressed tuxedo) and the Downy Woodpecker (with its black and white speckled wings.) 

They were the winter birds.

Now the strikingly-yellow Finches are joined by the Rose-breasted Grosbeak (sporting a deep rosy breast patch).  

The Rose-breasted Grosbeak.

The Grosbeak's song, according to the Reader's Digest North American Wildlife Guide (an illustrated guide to 2,000 plants and animals) has a cheery, lyrical quality, with almost the swing of a march. 

I counted 10 Grosbeak at the feeders while Harry played outside, imagining that the back deck was his "boat" and the garden hose his "fishing line".  He tossed the garden hose over the railing with exaggerated movements and then when the hose came to an end, proclaimed that he'd caught the elusive "glick" before he started to haul it back into the boat, one swift yank after another.

What is a "glick"? 

An imaginary sea creature, of course.

He did this three times, before moving on to another imaginary scenario that involved stringing the garden hose off the deck, around the yard and into the garage.

There was another new bird at the feeders this morning. 

When Mom caught sight of it, she hurried down the basement stairs to retrieve a special feeder that was quickly filled with cheap Concord Grape jelly.  It seems it is the favorite of our new guest, the brilliant orange Oriole.

The Oriole.

It was only moments, really, before one of the 3 or 4 Orioles flitting around the apple tree perched itself on the side of the dish for a taste. And only moments more before another Oriole was inches away awaiting its opportunity at the grape jelly-filled perch.

Cheap grape jelly that Orioles love.

At any one time, there might be as many as 25 finches, 10 Grosbeak and several Oriole (I've just counted 13). The apple tree and the feeders are speckled with the incredible colors; the yellow, the orange and the deep red of those birds. 

Mother Nature's stunning palette...right outside our kitchen window.

.....

We are closer than we have ever been in the last 12 months to Harry and I having our new home and our own routine.  I just wanted to mention one small note of gratitude...the one that has kept me focused on the goal.

I am so blessed to wake up every morning to see this amazingly precious child...in the twin inflatable bed, right next to mine.

Harry and his friends.

May 5, 2014

I spent the first part of the morning, after dropping Harry off at school, repairing his brightly striped mini sock monkey (an Easter gift from Auntie Laura) who had sprung a "bean leak" from his left foot.  

Newly-repaired sock monkey.

We began finding roughly-shaped white plastic tiny little balls in Harry's bed, under the covers, on the floor near where he has his snacks, and in the seat of the big beige chair where Harry and I often snuggle just after waking up and coming downstairs in the morning.

I soon learned that Harry had discovered the small hole in the monkey's foot some time ago and thought it was kind of fun to push the beans out one by one.

I had collected them and put them into my eye glass case, saving them for the time when I actually learned exactly what they were.

Upon that discovery, we collected the ones from the upstairs shelf, the living room chair and the eye glass case and I told Harry I would repair his monkey while he was away at school.

I didn't want to make the hole any bigger than it already was, so I painstakingly pushed the missing 43 beans, one by one, back into the monkey foot, just as they had come out.

I sewed the hole tightly shut and sat the monkey back in the chair next to Bunny, where they will wait, together, for Harry's return.

Waiting.

.....

We are well into phase two of eradicating the moles from Mom's yard...the whole yard.

Last weekend I assembled the "Mole Chasers" that Mom had ordered online, after, of course, seeking out the best method of mole eradication while not harming the little fellas in any way.

Mole Chasers: windmill-like tops attach to an 8 foot pole.

She has had these "Mole Chasers" for some time already.  I remember them sitting just where they were still sitting when Harry and I were home visiting last May. I was supposed to put them together then, but I'm sure we just plain ran out of time during our visit. 

They were still there when we returned here to live temporarily, but other things have occupied my time.

I developed a new dedication to the project when Harry and I were outside in the front yard playing kick ball.  Poor Harry tripped over mole mounds every single time he ran after the ball, splatting to the ground at full speed.  

No mole messes with my kid and gets away with it!

We had tried to secure the "mole poles" for the project last weekend too, but we forgot to bring the dimensions needed for the pole and so we could only just look around and ask a few generic questions at Home Depot. 

Frustrating.

This time, we went to Farm & Fleet (that eclectic store that has a little bit of a lot of stuff) and secured the two (we actually needed three) mole poles of the appropriate dimensions that they had in stock. 

When we got back home, my brother-in-law was across the road in the barn yard, so I took advantage of the moment and asked him if he had any kind of tool to dig a pilot hole for a pole, or maybe something to just pound a pole into the ground?

The question was enough to bring him across the road to drive the poles into the ground himself, and then to get his crazy black grease to prime the fan structure at the point it connects to the pole, so that it would move easily in the wind.

The windmill top has a horizontal pipe that contains a small ball.  When the blades of the windmill turn, the ball moves, rattling along the pipe.  This sound (and vibration) is apparently very unpleasant to a mole.  They are eventually driven from the area of the sound (and vibration) to dig their little annoying tunnels (that cause havoc in my Mother's yard) elsewhere.

The Mole Chaser at work.

I will plant a solar-powered spike (operating on the same principal as the Mole Chasers) in the front yard today.

Our next step is to spread some Mole-X (distasteful - at least to a mole - pellets) that will be (we hope) the final phase of eradication, returning our mound-free ground to its former state.

 .....

Mom's spring flowers are beginning to bloom in full force, even though it's been really chilly.

Afternoon sunlit Daffodil.

Daffodils in the yard.

There are new kittens in the barn yard. 

The chickens are laying eggs again. 

The rhubarb is progressing nicely. 

I LOVE rhubarb pie, so I am especially...personally...concerned about the progress of the rhubarb...

New kitten.

Barn cat.

The chickens.

Soon-to-be rhubarb pie.

We've also made a few trips down the road to check on the pond and the lilies.

Happily, the pond is brimming with water.

The Trout Lilies are beginning to bloom, now that they have soaked up just a ray or two of bright sunshine that has squeezed between the clouds that have filled the sky.

The pond, the Trout Lilies and moss in the woods.

And there is always something interesting to investigate in the woods...

An old moss-covered hollow tree trunk.

.....

There has been a great deal going on in our family...much of it way too personal to share. But it's brought us closer than ever together...to help one another and support each other in need.

We are also blessed with a loving Mother who is our constant reminder of what real 'strength of character' and pure will looks like.

She has been an example to each of her children while we have struggled through our own grown-up challenges, coming out on the other side to thrive and grow still.
.....

I will be making plans to travel to Washington, D.C. for a more formal interview soon. 

Things are progressing there nicely too.