El Padre Del Vuelo

That's right, The Flying Father. He's still on my mind. I can't help but wonder where he is, whether or not he's all right or if he'll be found. Honestly, it gnawed at me all day yesterday. This morning I checked but there's no new news on the ballooning priest.

No news is good news, right? I'm hoping he's sitting on a beach somewhere, eating cereal bars (he had them with him) and drinking coconut milk (I figure he might find them on his own!) and just waiting for the rescue boat to pick him up. Anything is possible!

The Flying Nun

Is anyone here old enough to remember The Flying Nun? Or is my age showing when I admit I watched Sally Field play Sister Bertrille?

I loved that show and for a while I entertained thoughts of being a nun just so I could fly. Then, of course, I realized I had little call--all right, no call--to the vocation. Whether flying without a plane or spaceship was one of the perks or not, I just wasn't up to the challenge of being a nun.

You're not surprised, are you?

Anyhow, seeing Sally Field lift off with a hand on her cornette and a smile on her face was always a good experience. But this morning's headlines, about the missing flying priest, is definitely not uplifting. Apparently he thought he'd raise money by setting a record but his balloons have been found floating in the ocean. He was not attached to the balloons when they were found.

I'm not even going to talk about suspension of belief here because really, what's there to say? If a priest has belief enough to think he should go flying about over an ocean suspended by party balloons, who am I to question it? All I can say is, I hope he's found--alive and well.

As a kid I believed the flying magic was a combination of faith and the cornette. Yeah, I thought a lot of the flying fun rested right on the tips of that white hat. But Sister Bertrille used to say, "When lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, anything can fly." So maybe, even without a hat, faith is enough to carry a Spanish priest. I certainly hope that's the case.

Waiting. And watching. And hoping...

...and praying.

Yes. That's really what's been going on here for the last , oh, say 38 hours or so. I've been on husband watch.

Ever do that? Stand sentry over someone you love? Wondering, waiting, watching? My bet is that you have. I think we all have at one time or another. It's part of life. And when this part of life is over--hopefully without incident--we'll sit back, laugh and talk about it. We'll say, "Do you remember?" and, "Boy, I scared you that time, didn't I?" We'll nod, chuckle and grin. We'll be thankful we're smiling instead of shivering at the horror of it.

So that's it. I'm watching. And wa--well, you know the rest.

Why? Yeah, that's the question I've been asking, too. Why? Why? Why, dammit, why? Why don't men read labels before they eat things? WHY?

Okay, I see I'm going to have to back up a bit. Picture this: Sunday afternoon. Bright, sunny day. Warm. Perfect spring weather. Pottering around the yard all morning. Eventually our stomachs growl, as stomachs are wont to do when not filled in a timely manner. We head inside to prepare a quick lunch to be eaten on back porch. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches. Lemonade. Homemade pickles. Maybe some fruit for dessert. See? No big deal.

For me, peanut butter and homemade grape jelly. For hubby? Shrimp salad on a bagel. Still nothing wild and wooly, right? I make my sandwich. He makes his. I watch as he goes to the pantry to retrieve a new jar of mayo for his salad. I pour lemonade, add ice and everything seems great. All good, right?

Outside on the back porch, we eat. Chat. Plan the afternoon. I notice hubby's glass is nearly empty so I go inside to get the pitcher of lemonade. When I open the fridge I spy mayo jar on top shelf. My gaze falls on the label. My heart lodges in my throat as I read

Best if used by March 07, 2007.

Holy. Crap.

We bought the jar last week. Put it in the pantry. Now this rotty old stuff is going down my husband's throat? Good God in Heaven, I think I'm going to have a heart attack! No need to worry about mayo killing hubby, I'm dying where I stand, half-frozen by the frigid refrigerator air!

He's been laughing about the whole thing for, oh, 38 hours and 15 minutes or so. He's highly amused but I just don't get it. Why did he buy a jar of anything without checking the expiration date? And really, why didn't he take a peek before opening the jar and using its contents to make his salad? Why?

Really, this must be one of those man/woman things. It's got to be. Would you not check the expiration date before you eat something? I'm pretty picky about what I put in my mouth so I'm sure you've figured I wouldn't just indiscriminately eat expired--or even close to the expiration date--food.

Just so you know? He hasn't gotten sick. No mad rush to the ER to have his stomach pumped. No violent facial eruptions. Not even a--well, no rumblings of any sort from him. Other than the laughter my concern has brought on.

Oh, and the maa-ing. Yes, maa-ing. You see, when I likened his eating habits to those of a goat, he apparently decided that when in the goatpen he should sound like a goat. Hence, the maa-ing noises that issue from him every time I ask how he's feeling. I'm giving him another 2 hours or so before I quit asking. After that, he's going to be on his own for Botulism Watch.

*Sigh* And you thought life was all roses and champagne around here, didn't you? Ha! The good thing is, I managed to write and watch (andwaitandhopeandpray) yesterday so I got a big chunk added to the wip. Ah, thank goodness for the silver lining!

Tag! I'm It!

I've been tagged! Melissa McClone tagged me to play a cyber-game. I don't generally do these things but it's Monday morning, I'm on the run to my laptop to get writing and this one seems like fun. :)

The rules:

a. Link to the person who tagged you.
b. Post the rules on your blog.
c. Write six random things about yourself.
d. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
e. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment at their blog.
f. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

It shouldn't be hard to come up with six random things to share but, you know, it kind of is. I asked my husband and he ticked off a list really quickly. (About me, I mean. I should have asked for six random things about him, but I didn't. I will, though. I'll bet his answers surprise me!) Some of the things he named you already know but some you don't so I'm going to use them. The first three are from his list; the last ones are from mine.

Six random facts about me:

1. "No food with a face." In other words, I'm a vegetarian. I have been since I was a kid. Why? I just didn't like the idea of eating anything dead and once the idea was in my head it never again occurred to me to put dead food into my mouth. Habit? Maybe. Whatever it is, I know I won't be anything but a vegetarian in this lifetime. The idea of eating meat gives me the shivers.

2. Purple. My favorite color. Again, something that goes back so long I can't recall a time when I didn't love it. I like other colors, too, but when I have to choose I usually choose some shade of purple. So be warned...if there's ever a time when someone's got to choose a color for something, don't ask me to choose unless you're willing to have the choice be purple.

3. This one surprised me. Not that it's a fact about me, because I know it already, but that my hubby chose it as one of the six things he rattled off. My toenails are always some shade of pink. Usually a medium to darkish shade, but always pink. Never unpolished. Never anything but pink. Except for Valentine's Day, when they're red. How funny is it that he knows that? And sometimes I think he doesn't notice things...

4. Swan Lake is my favorite ballet. I've seen it upteenth times and every time I sit in a theater and watch the dancers it's like the first time all over again. I love it, and will gladly watch it anytime. My poor husband's not as keen on ballet but he indulges me.

5. One of the weird (kind of) things on my "To Do Before I Die" List is ride a camel. I don't know why I want to do this so wholeheartedly, but I do. Especially strange because I'm not really an animal person. Not at all. But riding a camel? I really, really want to do that at least one time before I head out. It would be great if I could do it in Egypt, with the Sphinx looming over us and the sun setting in the background but even if it's in some kiddie zoo I'll be thrilled. Yeah, it's pretty easy to thrill me but no, that's not number six. :)

6. The final random fact about me is... I embroider almost every day. I learned as a young girl and have always enjoyed the peaceful feeling of putting thread over fabric. When I was a teenager my jeans were usually covered with my own designs. We've never had a home without a sampler on the wall. I rarely have time for long stretches of handstitching anymore but I usually manage at least an hour each day. You'd be surprised how quickly a project moves along even in small, consistent stretches!

Now it's my turn to tag six unsuspecting people! I hope they have as much fun as I've had!

I tag:

1. Debbie Wallace
2. Denysé Bridger
3. Nicole McCaffrey
4. Kathleen Grieve
5. Carol A. Spralding
6. Melissa Blue

Thanks, Melissa, for pulling me into the game! :)

Saturday Morning Quickie

Ha! I'll bet that got your attention, didn't it?

Just stopping in for a fast chat before I head downstairs, then out the door, to begin what will undoubtedly be a busy and tiring, yet satisfying, day. Got lots planned, but first I wanted to visit with you.

So, how's it going? Are you feeling all right? Everything going well for you? I forget to ask these questions. I'm always interested but sometimes, in the hurry-scurry rush to get from point a to point b, I forget. Lo siento! I'm sorry. Forgive me? I'll try and ask more often, but if I don't just give a shout out. Let me know what's up in your world, okay?

Well, a fast glimpse into my life before I have to dash. I'm still shaking my head over something that happened yesterday evening. I thought it might give you a clear idea of what life here in Leoneland is like. :) Ready?

Just in case you have some silly notion that all goes smoother than silk on a goose's butt around here I'm going to let you in on a closely guarded secret. It doesn't. Now, I know I've probably shocked you but it's the truth. We have a great time here but honestly, sometimes things just don't go as planned. Case in point? The installation of an underground water line to the greenhouse.

The greenhouse is a good distance from the house and I've been toting water for the seedlings. Let me tell you, it's been a pain. When my husband decided to install and underground line to make my life easier I couldn't say no. I mean, I'm all for hard work but hey, I'm not stupid.

Last night, just as I was about to begin schlepping jugs, hubby called, "It's done! Drop those buckets! You've got water to your greenhouse."

My heart leapt. Could it be true? Water? Greenhouse? No buckets?

A dream come true.

With a smile, I took the hose nozzle. He's got it set up so the underground line comes up and connects to a standpipe with a hose attached to it. That way, I can either bring water inside the greehouse or hose the flower gardens down. I'll be able to spritz my flower boxes or even turn the sprinkler on in the far vegetable gardens. Really, it's all good.

Or so I thought.

The nozzle is a new, ergonomically correct one that we bought last year but hadn't had a chance to use. When I aimed at the nearest flat and pressed the lever, I expected a fine spray of cool water to gently, lovingly mist our pampered seedlings.

Instead the blasted thing gave me a full-face, hard, cold spray right between the eyes! Within an instant I was drenched. The interior of my little house was dripping. Miraculously, the seedlings remained dry. Bone dry.

Apparently there was a small clear sticker on the end of the nozzle, "protecting" all of the spray holes except the ones around the edge. Those, I now know, work fine. Just. Fine.

So you see, life on the farm is sometimes more slapdash than serious, and we like it that way. I finished watering between bouts of laughter, and now that the greenhouse and I have both had a spring christening I'm sure we'll get lots of gorgeous stuff to grow in the yard. We'll eat, we'll stop to smell the flowers, and we'll laugh. What more could we want?

I plan to till the smaller vegetable gardens today. And the annual flower bed could use some freshening up so I'll add composted leaves and till them under. The day will be filled with dirty moments but when it's over we'll sit on the porch and smile. If I'm lucky I'll be dry but who knows? Around here anything is possible!

What do you have planned for this beautiful Saturday? Whatever it is, I hope you enjoy yourself.

PS

Just wanted to mention there are new posts in From the Kitchen and From the Garden. Short ones but if you're in the mood for something yummy you might want to peek into the Kitchen. Something pretty? Definitely the Garden.

Have a good one!

Echoes

I discovered this crocus blooming in the center of the yard. Completely out of the bed, apart from the other crocuses, all on its own. It wasn't there last spring. I'm sure it wasn't.

So the question is: why is this pretty little bloom growing all by its lonesome? Was it banned from the bed? Or did it strike out, determined to march to its own drummer and forge its own path?

Still more intriguing...how did it relocate? I mean, really, how did this bulb get from its former home to its present location?

Any ideas?

Excuse me, please

I've been awake and working since 3 am or so. I've gotten heaps of writing done and feel pretty darn good about it.

Today? I've got one of those crazy, jam-packed-with-obligations sort of days so I don't anticipate having even a minute to spare.

But right now? As the day gains clarity, the unspoiled dew glistening? Oh, the temptation...

I've got nearly an hour to myself. Long, sweet, glorious minutes before I need to dress and dash. I should...

Oh, you know the shoulds of my life by now, don't you?

But if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do something selfish. I won't even stop to dress, I'll just pull on a pair of sweats over my pjs, grab a cup of tea and head out to the greenhouse. Or maybe I'll throw all caution to the wind and take a walk to the pond. You never can tell what's stirring in this quiet moment. Maybe I'll just take a peek...

I hope you all have a good day. Mine is going to be nuts, but that chaos isn't going to begin until, oh, about fifty-two minutes from now. Until then, though, the world is serene. Pardon me while I indulge myself...

:)

Blog-ally challenged?

Usually, thank goodness, I sail through my computer experiences without incident. I write. I edit. I blog. No biggie. No great mystery of life, the relationship I have with either of my litle black boxes. Really, no problems.

Until now. Actually, until a few days ago. It's taken me that long to admit I've got an issue. Or who knows? Maybe I've got two--or even three--issues. Me? I don't have a clue but I'm so annoyed I'm contemplating buying a new computer just to get rid of this problem.

Hmm? The problem? It makes me sound like a moron to admit this but we're all friends, right? Okay, here goes...

Everything on the screen is huge. Really. Huge. I mean BIG. The welcome page words. Blogs. The little box I use to post a blog entry. Email is normal size, as is the little box with "Favorite Places" that hangs down the side. The bar across the top is the way it should be. Everything else? Super-sized. Do you have any idea how irritating it is to see mile-high letters? Especially early in the morning?

Like I said, I'm considering throwing the whole thing out the window! The peskiest part is that if I log on using my husband's account, everything is as it should be. Apparently with my account I pressed something I shouldn't have pressed, sometime when I wasn't watching what I was doing or where my fingers were going. Sheesh. Sounds like a dirty movie, doesn't it?

Any words of wisdom? Would appreciate all the help I can get, especially since my patience with the situation is dwindling.

Makes me homesick for the "good old days" when I wrote using a pen and legal pad. Yes, I actually did begin my first novel that way and probably would have finished it like that, too. But my fingers rebelled and the ink ran dry long before the characters in my head stopped talking so I bought this little "modern" device. Usually I love it, but right now, with its enormous letters blurring my vision I'm tempted to open the drawer, reach inside and pull out paper and pen.

All I know is, when I wrote on the legal pad I was in charge of font size. Sure, the characters in my mind ran most of the show but the letter size? All mine. Just saying...

Interviews, the final frontier

I have a confession to make. I am--sometimes--apprehensive about being interviewed. I know, I know, you're probably surprised by that admission, but it's true. I get nervous just thinking about the whole interview thing.

Why? I'm always worried I'll sound like an idiot. Again, the unvarnished truth.

But today I'm being interviewed at Cheryl's Book Nook and I'm pleased to say the whole process was painless and fun. Who knows? I may be getting more comfortable with the experience. Cheryl was so kind when she asked me to do it I automatically said "yes!" and now I'm glad I did. Please, if you've got a minute, I'd love it if you'd head over there and visit with me.

I promise, it's painless and you might even have some fun! ;-)

Gardeners, a friendly bunch

It's true, you know. Gardeners? A really friendly bunch of people, or at least that's been my experience. At the mention of the word garden, a cameraderie blooms. Can't you feel it?

I love it that Amy shared her experience with popping corn. Now I won't be disappointed, like her kids were, when the popped kernels are plain old white. And I'm tickled to learn she likes kale. Me? I'm growing it for the carving sticks. I haven't any idea what to do with the actual kale. If I'm lucky maybe Amy will share her kale tips. Please?

Dru's question about flats reminds me that not everyone plays in the dirt. A good thing to remember when I get started gabbing about seeds, sprouts and, eventually, saplings. Oh yes, the saplings are coming. In a week or so, I believe, but that's a post for another day.

By the way, a gardener's "flat" is a rectangular box, usually plastic but I'm lucky enough to have some really old wooden flats that I use as well as the plastic ones. The flat holds the smaller containers filled with soil and seeds. In big greenhouses most seedling cell packs are black plastic but I use peat pots and peat cell packs. That way when I plant, I plant the whole thing. Much easier for me. Hopefully better for the plants and garden.

Marianne, a fellow gardening enthusiast, wants to visit my greenhouse. I would love that! We could gab about writing and weeds. It sounds like fun, doesn't it?

Even on the other side of the world, gardening interest blooms--literally! My friend Jude sent lovely pictures of her barrel cactus. It's three years old (I asked) and a specimen any plant lover would enjoy seeing. If she says it's all right, I'll share the photos with all of you. I still can't figure out just how big it is because when I asked she gave me some centimeter answer that my old-math mind didn't translate into inches so I'm still clueless about how big this thing actually is. In gardening, size matters, you see, and I'm wildly curious but, like I said, without any idea. All I know is I think she should mail it over so we can all get a good look at it. Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?

Yesterday I shot over to Home Depot to pick up, what else?, more gardening supplies. Seeds, the stuff that doesn't require any more than two or three weeks' headstart, like cukes and some flowers, were fun to pick out. And I got zucchini, beans and the rest of the direct-sow seeds. Most of them, anyway. I'm sure there's something I forgot. (Trust me, I didn't forget anything. I just like to go look at the garden center plants.)

While I chose seeds I made a friend. A man friend. See? Meeting a man can happen in some unlikely spots, can't it?

Hold on to your hats, ladies! This man friend was probably in his eighties. A gardener, with obviously loads of experience, he was eager to talk. We compared the merits of determinate versus indeterminate tomato varieties (he favored indeterminate) and had an all-too-brief discussion about single-color, themed flower beds. We agreed we both enjoy multi-colored beds more but understand the monochromatic enthusiasts', well, enthusiasm for keeping flowers a uniform color.

Too quickly we parted but the memory of our meeting lingers. I enjoyed talking with the mystery gardener for so many reasons. He was a wealth of knowledge. He'd probably forgotten more about gardening than I know. He was funny, with a keen wit that made itself clear when he spoke about one-color gardens. And there was a sparkle in his deep brown eyes that gave me a hint at the man he was, long before age left its mark on his body. So many things he said and did in the short span of our acquaintance are imprinted on my mind, but what made the biggest impression on me was the love that lit his expression while we talked. Not love for a woman, but a deep, undeniable appreciation for the soil and growing things. He was a true gardener, and our friendship, although short, was based on that mutual love and respect.

This morning I'm headed out to the greenhouse. I'm going to play in the dirt and smile as I consider gardening, gardening friends--old and new--and the bounty that will be growing in our corner of the world this year. It's going to be a pretty summer, I just know it is.

From the Greenhouse

Saturday was gorgeous here, so of course we spent a lot of the day outdoors. And boy, did my muscles forget what yard work was! Pretty funny, actually.

The morning hours were spent pottering in the greenhouse. I have two benches filled with planted flats, with another two benches waiting to be filled. So far we've got eggplants, peppers, tomatoes and basil growing. A few other things are sprouting but since they're still pretty tiny I'm not going to count them as growing yet. A lot can happen to a sprout before it becomes dinner so I'll let you know on some things as they get further along.

What have we got planted in the greenhouse? There's way too much to mention, and I'll probably forget a lot of it, but aside from the above four there are flats of zinnias (purple, of course!), acorn, butternut and Lakota squashes (all winter varieties, with long growing requirements so I try and get them started early), delicata squash, artichokes (again, a purple variety that's so gorgeous it's almost a shame to eat them), cosmos and marigolds, carnations and bellflowers, lupine and some other varieties of perennials, as well as all the stuff I've forgotten. I've also decided to begin another herb garden near the greenhouse so I planted thyme, chives, oregano and dill.

Still to come? The usual stuff. Cukes, beans, summer squash, corn...you know the rest. All the tastes of summer we all love so much.

There are a few unusual things this year...I planted fennel. Did you know the seeds themselves actually smell like licorice? I ended up planting twice as much as I'd intended to, just because I got such a kick out of the seeds. Walking stick kale, just for fun. This is a kale that grows up to seven feet high, supposedly, with a center stick that can be used for carving. This, I've got to see for myself. Don't worry. If it grows like it's supposed to, I'll take pictures for you to see. Or maybe you've grown walking stick kale already, and can give me a few pointers? Hmm? Also on the sort-of-different list this year is red ornamental popping corn. They'll go in next month or early June, in a separate little garden by the barn. The picture on the seed packet was so pretty I couldn't resist giving them a go. We'll just disregard the fact that I don't like popcorn!

Saturday afternoon I cleaned out the big strawberry patch. I love strawberries, especially those we grow ourselves. It might be my imagination, but home-grown anything just tastes better.

Then, we took a walk in the forest before coming inside. A great way to spend a gorgeous day. It was such a perfect day that we hardly minded the snow that fell yesterday!

Hope you had a wonderful weekend. What kept you busy?