Mice:epilogue

Remember the mice?
And the pile of rice?

Go here if you don't.

I'm hoping that the story is finally over.

I was searching in the toy box for Little People figures for Tommy and Jeffrey when I had them over last week. As I got close to the bottom of the box, I found a chewed up piece of stripy t-shirt fabric.
Hmmmm, I thought to myself.
What could this be?
I contemplated, then remembered that it used to be a bean bag.
Filled with.....RICE!!!!!!!
It was a rice bag.
So that's where that pile of rice came from.
It had bothered me ever since the mice incident.

I searched further and found....more chewed bean bags.
Only this time, the beans were still intact.
Apparently, mice don't like kidney beans.
Can't say that I blame them!


And, of course, the box had a healthy layer of mice turds all over the bottom of it.

The toy box is duly cleaned and disinfected.
The story is done.
I hope.

No-picture day.

Today, words will have to do.
I woke up early. Five-ish. It's been in the 90's but cooling down at night, so the sun was shining brightly and a cool breeze was blowing. Have to get up and get while then getting's good. We're having six people over for lunch tomorrow. Barbecue pizza cook-off. Need to clean the house and tidy the garden so that I can impress them. Ha! My house is always neat and tidy. My flowerbeds are always weed-free!
I made Jeff a breakfast sandwich. Ciabatta bread filled with egg, cheese and ham. Men work more willingly when their sweeties feed them well, don'tcha know? He headed over to Bethany and Chris's house to help Chris with his sprinkler system. They're doing a labour swap, my brilliant idea. Figure they'd both work harder and longer if they had help. Which will make Bethany and Sue happy.
Had two Lindor truffles for breakfast after Jeff left.
Then I spent, I swear, two hours working on hotels and flights for our Washington DC trip. What Washington DC trip, you ask? Oh, didn't I tell you about that? There is a Taxpayer Protest March on Capitol Hill on September 12th. Why don't you come too? It is the best-kept secret on conservative talk radio, so I hope the organizers get the participation they are expecting. So, after several hours of research on the net and talking to a very ditzy, myopic, self-absorbed, totally irrelevant travel agent who is supposedly helping people plan their trips (NOT!) we are good to go. Yeah, she was a sweetheart. Does anyone else miss the days when you just called a travel agent when you wanted to go somewhere and they let you know when a good deal turned up. It might have been a bit more expensive, but oh, so much more comforting. I get ulcers with all the decisions I have to make for a trip like this.
Anyway.
By the time that was all done, it was going on 10 o'clock, so I hurried outside and was a weeding, pruning, watering maniac for about three hours. My friend, Robyn, came to bring me some fresh zucchini bread while I was on my knees weeding under the cherry tree. She stood and watched me weed while we gossiped about our kids. It made the time go faster. And when I finally went in the house, sweaty and dehydrated, I ate most of that loaf with about half a gallon of orange juice.
Spent some time waterproofing the grout on the kitchen counter.
Took a much needed shower.
Nap.
Ahhhh.
Except Jeff was home by then and decided he needed a nap too.


We got up in the late afternoon. Jeff vacuumed the house, swept the kitchen, and mowed the lawn. I finished the counters, swept again, and mopped the floor. We rode the Screamer to Quizno's and had two tasty torpedoes. Turkey club for Jeff, roast beef, bacon and cheese for me. Hold the veggies and mayo, thank you. Then we rode out to the Mustard Seed. Oh my, I was huffing and puffing up the hills. Jeff was the man. He put his thighs into high gear and talked me up those stinkin' hills. Not having the brake on helped a lot. That's for you, Ellen! We spent an hour weeding the onions, loaded up on orange cauliflower and striped beets, picked some big, juicy boysenberries, and headed home just as the sun was setting. Finally got to try out those nifty LED lights. They work very efficiently.
Stopped at Safeway on the way home for milk. Had to buy two gallons to get the good price and decided we couldn't ride the bike without tipping over. It's only half a mile or so to home, so we walked. The wind had really picked up by now and we were worried about the awning being out, so I told Jeff to go ahead and I would walk the bike. As he drew ahead of me, carrying a gallon of milk, I thought how it probably looked like we had had a lover's spat. He was pushing ahead in a snit and had left his woman pushing the big old bike. Funny.
I kind of like my life lately, although sometimes I think we work too hard.

Belated Fireworks

For your enjoyment.
Cold and windy fireworks.

Of abundance and deprivation

Last year, I joined a CSA for the summer.
Community Supported Agriculture.
I liked it for several reasons.
* We ate lots more vegetables than usual.
* We discovered some new favourites, like fava beans and fresh garbanzo beans.
* Jeff got to eat beets. Who even knew that he liked them?
* I got to share vegetables with my friends.
* The produce was organic.
* It felt good to be supporting a local farmer, as opposed to the giant subsidized conglomerates.
* It made me feel "green," and you all know how much I enjoy that! I practically oozed smugness.

BUT....
(No big but jokes here please)
...it was very expensive and I couldn't choose our week's portions.
Too many stinkin' beets.

So, this year I joined a local co-op farm.
The Mustard Seed, formerly of Newberg (to which we belonged one summer years ago) and now of St. Paul.
Only six miles away by Screamer.
Or Jeff's new Sebring.


For only $20 and 24 hours of work, we can take all the vegetables that we want.
Plus a smattering of select fruits.
Much more suited to my frugality.
The plan was that we would ride out to the farm on the Screamer every Saturday morning, put in an hour or two of work, and ride home with our bounty of fresh, organic vegetables. By the end of summer we would have hard, healthy, bodies and have so much energy that we wouldn't be able to stand ourselves.
Hmm.
We did ride the bike once.
Usually we're too tired from our other activities, or too short on time.
Then, the second time we went, we hoed beets for two hours.
The next day I was in agony.
I aggravated an elbow injury from falling off my bike last summer.
Now I have lateral epicondylitis.
Tennis elbow.
Last time I played tennis was almost 40 years ago.
Unfair, I cried, to no avail.
Physical therapy, here I come.
Again.

So.
Jeff has become a fan of the farm.
While we work together, we discuss politics and other weighty topics.
Yesterday, I told Jeff my theory of how small, co-op farms might be the saving of America. Just think how much healthier people would be if they joined farms instead of getting food stamps. Helping themselves, instead of waiting for the government to take care of them. There are indications that this model of farming is growing in popularity, as young people feel a need to get back to the land. They are leading the quest for more sustainable farming practices and less contaminated food sources. Here is a good website if you want to read more on the topic.

My friends and I lamented the loss last year of Pihl Orchards in Dundee.
It was owned by an elderly Swedish (I think) couple who had been farming it for 20 years. We were taking our kids there to pick blueberries and peaches for almost as long. Arne Pihl was 90 last time we asked. Summer wasn't summer without at least a couple of trips to Pihls.
Last year, it was inexplicably gone.
No blue road sign: Pihl Orchards.
No hand-made sign on the corner: Peaches for sale.
I finally drove down the gravel road to try to solve the mystery.
The barn where Mrs. Pihl weighed the fruit and you could pour yourself a drink of ice cold water from the fridge was gone.
The house was spiffed up.
No "u-pick" sign.
I wanted to cry.
It took a year to ferret out the news.
Pihls had been bought out by the local land baron and the fruit was going to canneries.

Oregon is u-pick heaven.
Let's hope there are enough hard-working souls of the younger variety who will carry on the tradition.
Hats off to the farmers of the world!

Free Chocolate

Don't say I never tell you anything useful.
Go here every Friday morning until September 25th and you can register for a coupon for a free chocolate bar from Mars.
Registration begins at 9am et and they give away 250,000 coupons a week.
Hint: if you have more than one email address register more than once.

Tuesday in the Park

Jeff and I were both tired on Tuesday night.
Long days for both of us.
He, in the trenches at Tyco, and me, teaching piano.
But we had A PLAN.
We rode the Screamer down to Quizno's (for some delicious torpedoes) and then to the park by the library for a free concert.
A blanket, a good book each, and our torpedoes.
We took off our shoes and chilled.
The band was average.
The temperature was balmy.


I think we both snoozed a little.
We'll be there most Tuesday evenings if you're looking for us.

One way to eat a cone

Jon and his family came over the other day. He works long graveyard shifts at Intel so we don't see them very often. It was a sunny afternoon so I fed them icecream. It was the first ever icecream cones for Tommy and Jeff.

Jeff wasn't quite sure how to eat his, he started from the side.


Tommy has an appetite like his Dad.
Almost non-existent.
But he made a fairly good job of polishing his off, after a rather hesitant start.


Jonnie preferred his in a bowl.


After I snapped this, he took a much worse photo of me with his phone.
Threatened to send it to people as yet un-named.