Kids - baseball, Part I

We have been walloped with one heckuva computer virus of late. Or multiple viruses as the case may be. Norton did not catch them, Kaspersky caught them but could do nothing about them since they went through the system and disabled it's ability to stop them, and now I have Mcafee. Let's pray that this works. And, without the prayers, we can go directly to the computer guys who clean it all off of my system.
Here is a baseball story. Wilder started tossing a baseball with his dad. Then there was some batting action going on. So I took him to Fred Meyer to get a real bat for an early birthday present. If you are not a baseball person, you need to imagine a wall of bats, all different colors, lengths, weights. How on earth to pick one? How about a mitt? Do they do different things? And at his age... 9, and a way beginner, is he a softball fella or a baseball fella? I had no idea. So on the bat we went for color. I was pretty sure this was not the best way to do it, so when the only other people showed up on the aisle, I promptly asked them. The older fellow had a knit cap pulled low on his head, low shorts, oversize in most of the things he was wearing. The other fella looked wiry and smaller, younger, rougher, edgy. I held up the baseball and softball and asked them, "does he play (gesturing at Wilder) baseball or softball at his age?"
The larger of the two looked at Wilder, asked him his age, his weight in a barky kinda voice. My son being who he is, stood up straight and answered to the best of his ability. (I must be a bad ma since I have no idea how tall either of my kids are, and how much they weigh, I can barely remember their birthweight, and their birth length... HA. But then I still think I am in my thirties....Double HA) They confered between each other, and said 'baseball'. I thanked 'em and we moved on toward the cashier. The older one came around the corner and said "Is that the bat he is playing with?" Gesturing toward the snappy colored bat we had picked out. We said yes, he said no. We went back to the aisle, where the two of them got serious in picking out Wilder the right size bat. They absolutely rocked. Ryley went out with his new bat, his baseball ready to roll. The older fellow asked him what team he was on, we said none, since it was too late to get him signed up. We thanked the two baseball guys and left.
After paying and walking out the door, in the firezone illegally parked was a black SUV with tricked-out wheels and spinners. Standing next to it's open door was the older baseball guy, talking on his cell. He saw us, put his call on hold, and walked over. "You know, it is not too late to sign up for the North Perry coach pitch team, and it would be great to get him started in" Turns out this fellow was a coach. Well, that was all we needed. Even though we have scads of fields around our house, we drive two towns away to play on the North Perry team. Wonderful coach, great team. All because of a random question asked. You never know who you may strike up a conversation with.

Spring?

When I was driving back from Oregon it was 80. When I got to Seattle , it was 70'. Today it was 50's. When it was 70', I thought i was going to DIE. As if it was 101 in the shade. I couldn't think, couldn't work, just wanted to layabout with a cold ice cubed drink. How is that for being a true Washington mossback? That is why when it is sunny here in the northwest, even if it is 50's, we break out the shorts. (I am not that far gone, however, to wear shorts when it is below 65. You can all worry when I do. Hopefully I will be in a "home" of some sort at that time and you can just visit during the appropriate hours and remind me of your name)

Travel-Ory-Gun

Behind the scenes (scenery) tour of the Painted Hills Image Blue Shoe Farm Blog

The Mule and Draft Horse auction in Redmond, OR. They had some amazing wagons/carriages/surreys that went to auction for so cheap! Image Blue Shoe Farm Blog

My home away from home. Painted Hills Unit of the John Day Fossil Beds. Image Blue Shoe Farm Blog.

I love coming home from a trip. But I also wish I had another day in Oregon. Tomorrow all sorts of things were happening in my "second home town". Town meetings, offers of hikes in the backwoods of BLM property that people don't get to go....and on this trip I got two job offers out of the blue! Will post lots of pictures.

Things I Have Learned

Things I have learned recently:
1. Police SUV's are very fast, but don't have any special engines.
2. Police officers after a while do not react to things with adrenaline. Such as walking up to a dark house, walking into a domestic dispute, dealing with cranky people
3. Police officers get asked questions all day by their commanding officers, etc etc so they don't want to go home to a wife that asks them more questions. It irks them.
4. The seatbelts in the back are controlled by the officer in the front. You can't unbuckle without their assistance.
5. Sometimes in non-emergencies police run red lights and speed a bit.
6. My 911 line is okey-dokey with people calling for a non-emergency. No matter how much they pound that into your head when you are in Seattle, when you hit my neighborhood, don't worry about calling for something mild. They will even act like a guest services desk in a mall and look things up for you. (even if you tell them you don't need it because you feel guilty for using the line)
7. My neighborhood/city police are super, super, super nice and helpful.
8. Sheila's Cafe has a great waitress. This may become my "Vera's" replacement.
9. Mor MOR's has excellent hot chocolate.
10. Tizley's is a place I highly recommend, good view, great staff, great food, good beer, games that are fun to play with kidlets.
8. Wilder is taking the WASL this week, and loved it yesterday. Writing is today, he is a bit concerned.

Road Trip ! (Work!)

Since purchasing the mini-homestead (truly truly mini....less than 3 acres) I have not had a trip in the ol' vehicle to my fave Oregon backcountry.
I am heading to a work conference during the week to Portland (way better than Seattle in many ways, according to this ol'timer), and then going to head out into the wild west yonder. Even though I have never lived in the desolate part of Central Oregon (not Bend, the overpopulated Phoenix/Bellevue-like area) when I head down highway 26 it feels like I am going home. No idea why this is. Have already told the kids that I will probably end up here when I retire. There is something there that calls me. In alot of ways my wee farmthing is a teeny splash of Oregon-ness for me. Almost like I moved what I was looking for to Kitsap from Oregon. I get the same feeling when I turn down my road and see the Olympic Mountains towering over my home. Yay! Will post those cool pics when I get back. The kids dad is going to run the show at the wee farm while I am gone. I wish him luck. He thinks he is going to get all these projects done, little does he know how much time this all really takes. Oh, I see the friends who come over and think GGGEEEEEZZZZuuuuuusssss, gal, how many things can you do at one time. I don't think they diagnosed kidlets with ADHD when I was a youngun' otherwise I would be a candidate. (or, perhaps I am a late developer, yet another perk of peri-meno)

Happy Easter! Week in a nutshell.

I am sure Rose is giving me a teenage lecture about something in this picture.

Wilder wishing you a Happy Day
Happy Easter, all. Here is the week in a nutshell.
1. Joined Facebook a bit ago. Former friends from eons ago are coming out of the woodwork. What a strange thing. Don't join Facebook if you are trying to avoid any portion of your previous life. It will find you...
2. Went and helped at the Wing Luke Museum auction. Besides my legs swelling because I was wearing RIDING BOOTS to run around and pack up sold auction items, and wandering the streets of Seattle afterwards because I forgot where I parked (that is a first) it was a blast. Was helped by Seattle's finest homeless folk with the car hunt. Very nice. And, helped me get the big-butted white minivan out of a tight spot. That is where it pays to be a very tall woman. I don't generally get messed with. Re: museum.... if you are in Seattle, I highly recommend a visit to this stellar place, which has become one of my new favorites! www.wingluke.org
3. Slowly things are blooming on the farm. Forsythia and the plum trees are the first to show. (And of course daffodils)
4. Have not been hearing from Mae as much as I usually do. There is a good reason for that. On her way to visit me during spring break with her horses, one flipped out in their trailer and tore part of her hoof off trying to climb the wall. Not pretty. She has a long recovery (horse, not Mae) and all extra moments are taking care of the horse or finding a better horse trailer.
5. Had a toilet explode downstairs. And, it was not a clean toilet. We don't need to say more, other than there was a strong smell of bleach for a day after. I need to replace this bathroom. But am waffling on whether to move it up my priority list. Rose was an immense help running around getting me things as I swore 25 cent words and snarled. She said I was not nice. Welllllll, I was standing in sewage in bare feet. See, another good point to being married. I didn't have to do this before! Thank you kids dad for all the times you did. I feel your pain, now. I can think about it and say.....Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. I am cooking my first vegetarian dinner (for kids dad) for Easter. Wish me luck. I am thinking just a big pile of vegetables should do it. The kids and I will enjoy a more delectable assortment of standard easter goodness.

Springtime and the driving is fine

The weather fella says 70 degrees today. Exactly one week ago it snowed. What is up over here?
I am kicking into high overdrive with a zest to work outside (brush the horses! build the raised beds! move compost! brush horses! mow the grass! clean out the garage! move hay! tune up the mower! ) But I must pace myself so I don't end up sleeping in the sun spot on the living room carpet with the cat.

Photo courtesy www.thoughts.com, posted by djk1968

Great Sunflowers and Bees

This year we are going to count bees. Oh yes, some folks count birds, some count homeless people in their cities, we are going to count bees. The great sunflower project has been doing this a couple years... individuals, students and schools sign up... the project sends out free sunflower seeds, you grow 'em, then count bees and send the info back to the mothership.
Since bees are disappearing, which is vital to pollination, which is vital to our plant food source, I thought this would be a blast to join. And subtly educational for my urchins. (But I am not going to mention that part)
Wanna sign up or get info? : http://www.greatsunflower.org
Photo courtesy Leo Porter, www.deviantart.com

Chicken Death

I just read in National Geographic that I cannot call our chicken being 'taken out' by the neighbors uncontrolled dog as Chicken Murder. Murder is only defined as human oriented killing. Hence the title. I don't want anyone calling it the wrong thing. I was not allowed to post the grisly details on here about the demise of our sweet handraised black australorp Florida (Flo ) as per lovely daughter Rose. Suffice it to say, the characters in this story are neighbors, two uncontrolled dogs (pitbull mix and wolf mix), and a fat dog-friendly chicken.
We all know how the story ended. I know how my gun-totin' friends would like me to end it for the dog. This is the careful dance you do with permanent neighbors. I can throw up a fuss (which I did) and report the dog (which I did) but then I have to let it go. It is no good to pit neighbors against each other. Doesn't work very well. And, in essence, they are human and I suppose doing the best they can under their life circumstances. And we all love our dogs, even ones with issues. We had a dog that we put down in Seattle after exhausting all options of training and socialization. He was the best family dog, and loved Rose so deeply, but had been abused as a youngster and had a screw loose with strangers.
The neighbors know the ground they are walking on. I mentioned they could lose their house (some insurance companies do not insure houses with pitbulls or documented aggressive dogs.) I should note that comment about insurance went over with them like a load of bricks. Sometimes my helpful tidbits of information, are not so helpful. We can chalk that up to one of my "put a sock in it" moments.
WELCOME to my neighborhood.

City Girl Ways - Country Livin' Ways

Picture: "I didn't do it, the cat did" and what exactly did I roll in?
Here I am. In the local credit union waiting for the folks who work there to figure out an answer to a question I had. A fellow walks in. Up to the bank teller. Round belly, boisterous voice. "I wanna make a deposit" ( I swear I was not purposely eavesdropping, he was 10 feet away and his voice Boomed) He goes on: I want to put $400 into checking, $400 cash and the rest into my savings. So that would be $582 into savings.
The ol' city girl part of me is flipping out. Shhhh. Omigod, hush about your money amounts! Someone will wait right outside the bank and bonk you on the head and take your $400 bucks... shhhhhh.... shhhhh. Don't say that stuff out loud, whisper, lean over to the teller or write it out on a piece of paper, keep the bank quiet like a library without kids... shhhhhh!
The old old OLD part of me that remembers a quiet community rural life says "Yeehaw, I am home." Where trust is high, talking loud in a bank is maybe unconventional, but not dangerous, kids running around in mud is fine, and we are not all overscheduled and driving like maniacs. Now I just need to find that bumper sticker I remember an old timer had on his car... "I may be slow, but I am ahead of you!"
(No comments about my previous post about getting pulled over for going over the speed limit. Change takes time, and my cars go best about 5-9 miles over the speed limit. UNless it is a school zone or neighborhood, then I am exactly ON)

Kids - Stealing Cheese Crackers

Wilder came home very upset the other day. He told me a new classmate had stolen his cheese crackers that he packed for snack that morning. These are not just basic cheese crackers, my son would DIE for these. They are Cheez-its Duoz-- cheddar and parmesan and he loves cheese. Anything cheese. If I want him to eat something I just put cheese on it. Anyway, he plopped in the car after school ferocious and grumpy. Like he saved it for me! the affront would have happened about 6 hours before I picked him up. Lucky ma, am I, that he saves his grumps for me. We talked a bit, and I asked why he thought this young fella was the guilty one. He said it was because he was "mean. " Knowing that it has taken Wilder a good three months to get a playdate goin' this is not a particularly outgoing school. This new boy has only been present a week and may not have any friends yet. Wilder assured me that he did, and, that he himself was one of them! (Boys~~) I mentioned that sometimes kids are "mean" to defend themselves... if they are unsure, or fearful, or maybe that is all they saw modeled at home.
Wilder came home today and said that he asked this new boy why he was mean. The fellow answered that the kids here were very mean to him. And then he told Wilder that he moved here from California and is in foster care.
There are many reasons that people are unreasonable, rude, or 'mean'. They may just be unreasonable, rude and mean people, or there may be a reason that is not readily apparent.
Sometimes it pays to extend that graciousness to those that you misunderstand.

Neighborliness (Neighborly-ness?)

The youth and I live in an old homestead. 1904-built former orchard and dairy farmhouse. Sometime in the 80's, that property was subdivided into 3 acre lots and sold. In the past 10 years houses have sprouted on those pieces, and folks have moved in. Now, this is just from me reading the plat maps and looking at the tax records. I have not seen it happen, we have only been here 5 months. But that is long enough to become immersed in the neighborhood psyche. Most women here are stay-at-home, and if they are not, the fella definitely runs the roost. Here I am, tall woman who still has her job in the big city moving in without a man by my side. I had forgotten the subtle threat that can be. The men only talk to me when their women are not around, or would truly prefer that they had a male in my house to be able to talk things over with. A gal pal and I would tease that I should wear a t-shirt... I Don't Like Married Men, or So Not Interested in Your Husband to put it out there. It is a small community, and most have not ever come over to say hi. Me being a big blab-head have made a point to say hi to everyone, and I have been over to their places. Hell, in our big city house we got a welcome basket from the neighbors. But I digress. There are three neighbors that are gold, and I have called on in emergencies, but a couple have let me know that they hoped I would take care of the neighborhood troublemaker dogs, being that I have horses and chickens. Because they all LIKE these folks, and since I am new they can throw me under the bus.
And yesterday, I went there. Right under that bus.

Click here!! Someone else's story I have been sharing with everyone who will listen

Or, if you have not heard it yet, it is because "I Never Tell You Anything". Read this, and see if you can keep a straight face. And, as I shared this with my urchins, they realized I am not the only "really weird" mom out there. Yay for me! Click on my blog title...

Nuclear Submarine Base Auction

Why you don't go on the base uninvited .(Photo courtesy www.gzcenter.org)

Mae and I ventured onto the Bangor Submarine base this weekend. For those of you NW news readers... we were not "hiding in the trunk of anyone's car"... my son's school fundraising auction was on base. I was thinkin' that this may not have made the auction a very 'inclusive' event, since not everyone would feel comfortable giving all their home and license information to the auction committee so that they could be admitted on the base.
I was pretty sure this was my only opportunity to see what was behind the razor fencing and bomb barriers. Did you know they have their own McDonald's? And mini-malls? And nightclub/bars? It is like a little city! The auction was fine. It is hard getting used to the lack of parent involvement in everyday school life at this place... as in, I go to the school at least 3 days a week, and only recognized about 9 people at the auction. These parents are not at the school. Our old school I visually knew everyone. The hallways always had parents walking up and down, volunteering all over the place. Another adjustment for me. "Stay out of our children's education" HAHAHAHA. Not really going to happen, from this gal. I bid on the fundraiser items for the school-- and tried to win the "4 young Navy men for 4 hours" donated by the commander of one of the subs..figuring they would be quick at digging out the barn, setting my new fence posts, and leveling the arena (area)...but the bidding went over my limit! Afterwards, we decided to go out. The night was young, we didn't have our kids to get home to, the horses were fed. Headed out to old Silverdale. New Silverdale is basically one big strip mall, all built on farmland in the past 30 years. Old Silverdale has leaning buildings and a strange mixed-use feel to it. We parked behind the restaurant/bar with the flashing lights and boom, boom of music. Walked up to the front door and heard they were playing "pass the duchy on the left hand side", realized we could have given birth to the clientele (age-wise) and walked across the street to the tilting, leaning late 1800's with the rusty fella's smokin' out front. Walked in, past the pool table and the people leaning on the bar. The three person band was playing my fave song from Stevie Ray Vaughn (Vaughan?) so we plopped down in our heels and fancy jackets and had a beer.
The folks were friendly, the music dandy, and the pool table was not crowded --that is all I need for a good night! After drinking my usual 1/2 beer, we went for dessert, talked fine cheese, and got up too early the next day for work.

I have something veeery inportant to say (daughter's blog note)

Ok, this is Rose and I have a comment to make about my mom's most resent post. the post was the one about how lucky she was and how wonderful I am and yea... AWKWARD! I mean seriously, all me and my friends did was make a poem out of random words and this magazine thing called a zine that my mom is now obsessed about. The only fabulous thing about it was how fun it was (for me!!!) and some peoples poems. NOTE: I have genius artsy writer friends who are amazing writers and draw-ers. Another good thing was the coffee my mom got for me and our carpool afterwards (thank you mumsy). Now, after all that blabbing, I have an actual point. And that is... (drum roll) YOU ARE EMBARRASSING MADRE!!!! That's it :)

Lucky, lucky day

One day.
Three things:
1. Kids: 8th grade girls can be amazing. Or, at least I will vouch for the 9 I saw go to the Hugo House for a writing workshop today. I feel spectacularly grand that one of these gals is related to me.
2. Beauty: The sky on the way home on the ferry had every color of grey, and blue. It was stormin' far off, and overhead a snap, a slide of blue. The water slapped the side of the ferry hard, but the boat did not rock. The sun caused the top of the water to fragment in endless triangles of dark and light. Always moving, undulating. I sat on the ferry thinking how lucky I am to see this.
3. We moved into our house in the fall. Tonight, as I tucked Wilder in, we were overwhelmed with the sound of frogs lookin' for love in the wetlands. We have decided to catch a frog, although neither one of us has ever done this. Wilder says we need a net with wee holes. I am thinking we just need to be quick. What A Cool Sound! (Of course, in a month if this goes on and on and gets louder I may not be waxing poetic about the cute little froggies)

Feisty - Dogs in the Road

Why do I have a pic of kids as soldiers? That is a very good question, and obviously this will be one of those cranky missives that may or may not connect the dots. Plus I am heavily caffeinated this morning.
Yesterday I managed to miss all the ferries over to work. (or, I missed the ferries that would allow me to get to work on time.)
So I had to drive around Puget Sound, it takes about an hour and a half. Around Bremerton the cars were all stopping with flashers on. I was thinking babies ducks? (too early in the year) Deer? (someone would have "quietly" leveled them with a shotgun).. when I got closer it was a black dog wandering aimlessly across the highway lanes. Many people pulled over trying to catch the dog, and I thought of those stories where people run in front of a train to get their pets. They die, the pets are fine.
Even though I was running late, my inclination was to pull over, too. It was an auto pilot response, not really a rational one. Why is helping a dog that actually seemed to be doing just fine and looked a bit on the pitbull breed side such an auto "HELP" response, but something geographically far-away like genocide or starvation open for extensive discussion with moral implications, political partisanship and inaction so much easier? It is easy for me to pull over and save a dog. (or get hit trying) but it is not easy to help a whole country or even a group of people that may not be "like me" or believe in the same things I do. Especially if I felt like I don't know the 'whole story' or 'the real truth'. Well I am beginning to think that is B.S.

OH, and I am going to start saying I am "passionate" about things... not "feisty" or even "argumentative." (My board of directors is not going to have an easy time with me today... please send them your kind thoughts and best wishes)
Photo Courtesy AP Wire, "DRC Child Soldiers"

Help. Blog Layout.

Hey skilled folks out there. Tell me how to get the pics to line up nicely with text? Anyone?

Lucky Days 2

Old Happy Dog Dancin' in the Snow.

The two workhorse vehicles around the place. And the one fluffy ornament dog. The van odometer just rolled past 100,000! Thanks big-butted white minivan! (note cop -magnet truck in the background)

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Loveliness in the house during the wintertime

Lucky Day Pictures

Pic: Two boys in their new stalls. Alternate title: "Feed Me"































Pic: Guard Dog with chickens. Alternate title: Which is more of a chicken, the white fluffy thing or the tubby girls?







Pic: Sunrise this morn. (Can't quite capture the "Red in morning, sailors warning" of the moment)