Category Archives: Family Matters

Garden Love

The weather here has been gorgeous lately. Each year, Portland teases us mercilessly. For about a week or so, we are treated to this beautiful spring weather. Blue skies, puffy white clouds, bright clear sunshine that fades to magenta sunsets. And then, at the end of the week, the spring rains move in and don’t leave until July. (You think I’m kidding. I’m not. July. Honest.)

So during this short week of Spring, most Portlanders rush to the nurseries and buy masses of plants and flowers knowing we have a very short window to get them into the ground before the monsoon season hits. If you hustle and plant quickly enough, you can kick back and wait for a beautiful summer. All those rainy days between now and July (no kidding) mean your plants are nicely primed when the sun begins shining and they just burst with flowers. Of course, this doesn’t happen until, oh, August but better late than never.

My gardening plans, however, are limited by two factors. First, the trees. We have these massive elm trees on our property. They were planted when the house was built back in the 20’s and have just grown like crazy. The are, by far, the largest trees around. You can easily find our house by looking at the sky line. Just pick out the two elm trees that stand a good 10 feet over all others and head that way. Joining these elms are two Christmas trees gone bad. The previous owners got living trees for Christmas for a few years. After the holiday season, they stuck them in the ground in the back yard. They are now massive beyond belief. This means that out entire plot – front yard and back – is shade. No direct sunlight to save your life. Just shade, shade, shade and more shade. And, of course, everything I want to grow (roses, herbs, flowers, etc) requires direct sunlight. Not gonna happen. I tried it last year and it was depressing. I think my roses even molded.

My second stumbling block is Artie. His two favorite activities during the day while I’m away earning money for dog treats are digging up plants and peeing on flowers. He is a force of nature that dog. I have re-planted my rose bush four times so far. For some reason, he loves to dig it out since it’s been planted in sand for better drainage. Of course, lying on its side out of its hole with roots exposed is the ultimate drainage but somehow I don’t think that’s what my garden book had in mind. Any wonder that rose has never bloomed? He’s even managed to completely toast my rosemary bush (not that I was ever going to use it in food after watching him tinkle on it every day) and delights in digging up and chewing my bulbs. Sigh. I can’t imagine that bearded irises taste good but they must.

Even though I know it is hopeless, I still find myself longing to work on my garden. All I need to do is chop down the trees and get rid of the dog and my garden dreams will come true. But I know if I just hang in for another week all will be well. Once the rains come, I won’t be able to go outside until July. Seriously. July.

Jailhouse Bound

Kevin’s going to jail.

Last night, as we were driving home, we pulled up to a red light. Kevin stopped and we noticed this really weird looking guy who was waiting to cross the street. He had a bag of cans and looked like your typical slightly crazy street person. I don’t think he was totally sober because when Kevin pulled up to the light, the guy kind of jumped. Then he started yelling at Kevin.

“Hey, hey, you see that,” he slurred, pointing in the generally vicinity of the cross walk. “That says WALK,” he yelled. “You gotta let me walk!”

Kevin and I just sat there, dumbfounded as the guy stopped in the middle of the street right in front of our car and began digging around in his bag of cans. It was clear he was upset with us. He was wearing an old army fatigue jacket and was missing most of his teeth. With stringy hair and wild eyes, he was quite scary looking as he rummaged through his bag. Kevin confided in me, later, that he was afraid the guy was going to pull out a gun. I thought he was looking for a bottle to hurl at us. But it turns out we were both wrong because he pulled this old flashlight out from his bag of cans and began shining it at us. First in our face, then over to the WALK sign which was now flashing DON’T WALK. Back and forth, back and forth. I guess we didn’t look sufficiently chastised because he put the flashlight down and pulled out a pencil and scrap of paper.

“I’m gonna get your license plate!” he yelled at us. “You’re going to jail!”

Of course, by this time, the light had turned green for us and the car behind us tried to pull around. Then they saw this guy standing in the middle of the road, waving his flashlight and stopped short. This, of course, made the guy mad and with his attention turned to the new car, Kevin pulled around him and drove off. I think we were speechless for a while trying to assimilate the strangeness of it all. The funny thing is, Kevin had stopped a good three feet behind the cross walk when he saw the guy crossing the street.

I can’t decide yet if I should call the police and turn him in or not. Guess that depends on how big the reward is. Hee hee.

New Guy

So there is this new guy on our floor. I’m not to sure who he is or even who he works for as we haven’t been introduced. All I know is that he’s really tall and whenever he walks by my door, he looks into my office. This really bothers me. I hate it when people peer in at me. If you are coming to talk to me, fine, come in. But don’t be walking by and looking. I am not in a zoo or a manakin in a store window. At least have te decency to introduce yourself if you’re going to keep looking in on me. I have asked around and he is doing this to everyone – this walking and peering. How very rude.

I have decided I don’t like him at all. I know, you may think this is rash seeing as how I have never said one word to him but still. I’ve just decided it.

I’m tempted to figure out where his desk is and walk by staring at him just to see if he likes it but I’ve decided to take the silent & hostile approach. I’m good at the cold shoulder thing. Just ask Kevin, having been on the receiving side of many of my finest cold shoulders, he’ll vouch for my ability to freeze with the best of them.

And on top of that, I’m having a bad eyebrow day. I know, it’s strange but true. My dad has these crazy eyebrows. He’ll have individual eyebrow hairs that go malignant and just grow and grow and get all crazy. They freak my mom out and she is constantly trimming them to he doesn’t end up looking like some crazy scientist. I appear to have inherited some of these crazy eyebrow genes because the eyebrow over my left eye to truly unruly. It is just out of control with every hair pointing every which way and refusing to lie flat. I have tried hairspray, gel, and even clear mascara to no avail. Some days, my eyebrow just gets cranky and crazy and today is one of those days.

And unlike a bad hair day, I can’t cover up my eyebrow. No, instead I have to face the day knowing that I have a spaztic eyebrow. So don’t look at me. Or, don’t look at me in the face. It’s just all wrong. Maybe I should be one of those freaky people who pull out all their eyebrows and then draw them on. That would solve my errant eyebrow dilemma once and for all. Except then I’d spend all day afraid to wipe my eyes for fear of smearing off my eyebrow. How weird would that be? There are no easy answers to these questions I suppose….

Trial Run

We had a night without Artie over the weekend. It was a scary-strange night not having the big lug in the house. I’d open the fridge and expect to hear him jump off the sofa and come jangling over, confident that whatever came out of the fridge would be shared with him. There was no hopeful little puppy face on the side of the bed that night, whining and trying to look pathetic so I’d invite him up. No one to body slam the bed the next morning to announce that it was time for a potty break. What a sad and lonely life I lead before my pooch.

The girls, however, loved it. When they saw us come into the house without the dog, I swear their little feline eyes lit up with unsuppressed kitty glee. They spent all night tearing around the house, chasing each other and having a kitty party until the wee hours of the night. Without Artie there to break up their cavorting, they had free reign of the house.

So where was Artie you ask? He was having a trial run sleep over at Kat & Josh. Since we are going out of town, they will be the proud owners of 85 pounds of puppy love for the weekend and we wanted to make sure they were up for the task. When we arrived the next morning to claim our pooch, they seemed no worse for the experience. They did, however, want to know if he always needed a potty break at 6:45am. We assured them that he was more of an 8:30am dog. Suckers.

So last night, Artie was back on the sofa where he belonged and the girls were shooting us looks of hate for having raised and then dashed their little kitty dreams, and everything was right in the world. I missed Artie so much that when he began begging to be let up on the bed last night, I gave in without a fuss. Of course, I spent most of the night contorted with one leg hanging off the bed and without any covers on the left side of my body because the darn dog kept hogging all the room but it was worth it when he lay his head on my leg, sighed a big puppy sigh of pure happiness, and begin licking the back of my knee.

How I ever managed to live without my dog I will never know.

The Secret to Happiness

I have discovered the secret to happiness and I will share it with you for free.

So you’ve had a long day at work. You’re grumpy, tired, and hungry when you get home and the idea of cooking dinner and paying bills and washing dishes and sorting laundry makes you want to just keep driving past your house to the nearest bakery where you can sit with a loaf of fresh bread and butter and your reading book until the world goes away. (Well, that’s what runs through my mind anyway. Feel free to insert your own escape dream above.)

But you know dinner has to be cooked and the bills have to get paid and the dishes washed and the laundry folded so instead of driving by, you pull into your drive way and battle with the door, drop your stuff on the ground and think, “this sucks – I need a personal servant.” (At least, that’s what runs through my mind. Feel free to insert your own comment above.)

At this point, there are several things you can do to make yourself happier. You can draw a bath and close the door, plop on the couch and watch the tube, break into the candy supply and pump your body full of sugar, etc, etc, etc. All of these are good ideas, but I have found a better one. It’s fast, easy, and doesn’t involve any weight gain One word – PJs.

Yup, you read that right. No typo. PJs. I have discover that after you battle with the door and dump your stuff, and bemoan your lack of a personal servant, all you have to do is run to your bedroom and shed your work day cloths and slide into your most comfortable, cozy PJs and suddenly, everything looks so much better. I suppose, to an outsider, it might seem strange that you are wearing your nightie at 6:30pm but who cares! There is something wonderful about your old cotton sleep shirt that’s almost worn through and has a hole where the dog played tug of war with it. Add a pair of old loose gym socks and in under 5 minutes you have instant mood change without the use of sugar.

So when Kevin comes home at night, he finds me happily cooking dinner in the kitchen, looking like I’m ready for bed. There’s just something about your PJs. I think it’s because I spend all day bound and uncomfortable. High heels, panty hose with control tops and reinforced toes, slips and bras, hair bound back, and just uncomfortable. To be able to go home and throw it all off is so liberatingly wonderful.

And PJs say “I’m done for the day. All I have left to do is sleep.” It means I don’t have to leave my house or interact with other people. It’s the unconscious comfort of knowing that if I really wanted to, I could head to bed right now without delay. How cool is that??

So tonight, as you walk through your door and face your nightly chores, before you do anything else, go change into your PJs and then start dinner. You’ll be amazed how good it makes you feel.

(Of course, I only recommend this if you sleep wearing clothes. Cooking naked may not be the best idea unless you are really good about not splattering anything. Also, the idea of someone sitting on my chairs with their bare butt gives me the willies. )

Voting Rights

I am a big fan of democracy. So much so that I often apply the principal of “majority rules” to my own life.

For example, back in the day when Kevin and I were merely dating, we often held mini-elections over issues of contention. I had four votes and Kevin, as an independent body, had three votes. The voting would work something like this….

“Hey Kev, what do you feel life for dinner tonight?” I’d ask.

“Oh, I could really go for pizza,” he’d reply patting his stomach and smacking his lips.

“I’m not in the mood for pizza,” I’d reply, “how about Chinese?”

Kevin would scowl, “No, no, I just had Chinese last night. Pizza.”

“Chinese.”

“Pizza.”

At this point we’d realize we were at an impasse and so we’d put it to a vote. Four votes, Chinese, three votes Pizza, and the issue was decided.

Now I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking this is merely a dictatorship disguised as a democracy. Ahhh, but there you’d be wrong. How about this factual scenario….

“I’m getting hungry. What do you want for dinner?” Kevin asks me patting his stomach and smacking his lips.

“Oh, I don’t I could go for Mexican or Italian,” I reply.

“Well, which one do you want more?” Kevin asks as he hunts for his keys.

“I don’t know, I could go either way. Lets vote.”

I’m split down the middle, two votes Italian, two votes Mexican so Kevin’s three vote block easily tips the scales onto Italian and off we head for some pizza.

You see? Democracy in action.

There’s only one problem. Once our individual beings merged into the state of matrimony, Kevin believed he should be granted equal voting rights. After much debate and long diatribes, I agreed and we now have four votes apiece. This, as you can imagine, is difficult as there are often ties with no mechanism for tie breaking. My streamlined democracy is now a bit more unwieldy but this is just one of the many sacrifices I have had to learn to endure. Although I must admit it was much more fun back in the day when I held the tie breaking vote. Ah well.

But the point of this rambling is that I need a craft room. Currently, Kevin is hogging all the free space in the house. He has one room devoted entirely to his computer stuff and a second room filled with his tools and woodworking stuff. The result is there is no where for me to spread out and work. Therefore, I have decided to submit a resolution to the McLaughlin democracy. I propose that the computer room be turned into the craft room.

Voting will open at 2:25pm today and close and 2:30pm. Any vote not cast won’t count…… Think I should let him know about this? I suppose this entry is a form of public notice. I guess that’s good enough.

Well, look at that, only 4 minutes left for voting.

I’m thinking Chrissie is going to get her craft room after all……