Hoarding in the Country

I think it has been a combination of several things over the past decade or so.  I have always loved crafts and do it yourself projects.  I took a special interest in sewing and one stroke painting and floral design and the list really goes on and on.

It really wasn't until a lethal combination of events occurred in the past 12 months that I really started to consider the idea that I may have a problem:  My son's wedding with all the enticing projects, being the self appointed decoration chairperson of my parents anniversary party...and the introduction of PINTEREST!

Jon will be embarrassed to find that I am spilling my guts here on my blog and admitting my serious um, problem.  Half, and that is a conservative estimate, of the basement is completely covered floor to ceiling with crafts.  Now, I don't mean junk, I mean high end craft material like cloth ribbon, strands of beaded pearls, silk flowers all there just sitting and waiting for some inspiration.   The only thing is, every time I go down there my inspiration is overcome by well, desperation.

Hence my story for today.  As I was picking up Eli from preschool I met my Mom at the stop sign by the school.  When you live in a small town this occurs quite frequently.  Anyway, we eased the two vehicles closer together, rolled down the windows in the brisk morning air and relayed our morning salutations.  I can't remember what we were talking about but my mother suddenly said, " Do you want me to come over and help you organize your craft room?".

Suddenly I was transported to the starring roll of the A & E series, Hoarders.

 All of my life long crafting supplies were on blankets and tarps and scattered across the front lawn.  A line of semi trucks with GOT JUNK printed in bright yellow letters sat idling in a line down our usually quiet country road.  Some sort of person with a PhD introduced herself to me saying her specialty was obsessive behaviour and hoarding.  All of my so called family members were standing around me in a semi circle, most of them wearing work gloves!

  I instantly saw myself sitting in a lawn chair as my family walked items past the viewing platform as if on parade.  " You can throw that away"' I dismiss with a wave of the hand.  " That bolt of material is brand new, it stays," I yell, as Aaron brings me a glass of ice cold lemonade and pats my shoulder.  I imagine Ashley scolding me, "Mom you bought all of this paint over five years ago.  It is old and none of them are any good anymore.".  I plead with her, " But I picked out all those colors, they are all mean something to me".   Tony steps in and quietly says "mom what's more important, this stuff or your family?"

I spy my Mom out of the corner of my eye.  She is the quiet strong supportive rock in my life.  I see a single tear fall from the corner of her eye.  My Dad stands with a shotgun at the corner of the road to fire warning shots should the building inspector arrive to order the house demolished.  (my imagination has a flare for the dramatic too)   Jon?  Oh he is in the back of the room (the crap room he calls it, rather than the crafts room) he is wearing a white paper suit and a breathing apparatus in case a case of spray paint spontaneously combusts, but he is hauling everything out, not even brotherly to parade it by my personal viewing stage.

"Roxanne, Roxanne"' my Mom shouts.  " There is a car behind you....move."

I came home and went straight down to the room from hell.  I stared at it. I contemplated, I planned, I plotted......

.....then I went out to lunch.

PWSD

Consider this a public service announcement.  PWSD is real, it's dangerous and it is merely one retail visit away from invading your emotional wellness.  I am talking of course, about "Post Walmart Stress Disorder".

If you are a past reader you will know how much I dislike the retailer that is so pervasive throughout this country.  You will also remember I typically refer to them as "Faltart", So as not to mistakenly provide them with any additional free advertising.  This will be the case from this sentence forward.

I have to be in really dire circumstances to voluntarily go to Faltart.  I have certainly learned not to run to this retailer for random items I may need for a recipe, because they usually don't have it anyway.  It has to be something more catestrophic than needing a few items.  Last Sunday ( okay a Sunday...at Faltart that should indicate where this going), after the Bronco Game ( okay, right?  I never claimed to be all that smart) at around 4:00 p.m. (seriously somebody please just poke a hot needle in my eye) I had a REALLY weak moment and I found myself sitting outside the parking lot.  Did I mention I was way outside the parking lot as it was completely full.

I pried my white knuckles from the steering wheel, glanced in my purse for Faltart shopping supplies (Clorox wipes, a can of Pepper spray, sunglasses to remain undercover and one of Eli's plastic drink cups full of ice....and Tequila).  I took a cleansing breath and stepped into the wild.

You know nowadays I am a pretty positive kind of person but the sights and sounds of this one hour shopping extravaganza make me want to crawl in a dark cold hole and send up a prayer for all human kind.  First of all how many people in Morgan County suddenly become afflicted with an ailment that causes them to be in need of the Faltart company car, aka the little motorized chair with the basket attached.  I watched one woman hippity hop to the door only to slowly crawl into that contraption.

I heard a young mother yell down the aisle " you better get your ass over here or someone will steal you.". I glanced down the aisle and she was yelling at a toddler who probably wasn' t even 3 years old. I mean who the hell does that?  As I weave and criss cross my cart through the apparent impromptu social gatherings in nearly every single aisle, I stopped a woman to ask her what aisle the matches were in (I'm thinking about torching the place at this point).  She had on a name tag and she had a radio....and she didnt  speak English.  None, nada, zip.  Really, I get the entire bilingual thing, I do, but this sends me through the roof.

I call Jon from my cell phone, just to let him know what kind of suffering and anguish I was going through as he was sitting comfortably at home in the man cave watching NFL football and drinking micro brewed beer out of a frosty mug.  As always he was supportive and told me to build a bridge and get over it.  

The last straw occurred as I was making my way to the exit and I witnesses a rodent creep under cereal shelves.  I think it was a mouse but it could have been a rabid badger for Christ's sake.  I glanced around at the shoppers in row9 and saw no reaction whatsoever.  Maybe they didnt see it, or more likely they saw it and didn't care.

So finally I proceeded to the self checkout counters.  I usually pick this area to pay for my goods so I don't have to deal with the rude, semi comatose checkers I am accustomed to.  The line is 6 or 7 deep, in self check out....and my tequila is long gone.  There directly in front of me is the able bodied woman in her Faltart company car.  I listen as she screams and yells at the poor little man helping her unload her groceries.  I mean, sweet Jesus who uses the company car and THEN goes to the self check stand.  I watch as some dirty little kid dumps an entire box of Chapstick on the floor.  I am amazed when his mother makes no attempt to pick any of them up.  No wonder the checkers are the way they are.

So you see folks, PWSD is a real disease.  It is chronic and progressive, but you don't have to fight this battle alone.  Join forces with me.....maybe we can get the bulk rate on tequila!,,

CDO in the Country

CDO is similar to OCD except the letters are in alphabetic order....as they should be.


Those who know me best have come to realize I MAY or may not have a bit of the disorder in my psyche.  What I've realized this week in the country is that the trait is inherited and I received it from my parents, both parents.

Sunday we ran to Denver to our favorite buy it cheap, then spend hours putting it together store, IKEA.  We bought bookshelves for the basement.  If you ever purchased anything beyond a mixing bowl from this retailer you know what I mean.  Everything gets picked out in a showroom, loaded in a warehouse and then hauled to your vehicle in heavy large cardboard boxes.  Jon absolutely hates the IKEA setup and even worse, despises the hours required to put even small items together.

Nonetheless he found himself Sunday a witness to the insanity and he reluctantly became part of the process without even trying.  Now one of the bookshelves we purchased came in several dozen pieces with several dozen packages of hardware in various sizes.  Here's how we roll.....

We dumped it all out on the family room floor, of course misplacing pieces as we went.  I scratched the newly painted wall with a sharp shelf edge so had to retire to attend to touchup duties.  We got distracted by an HBO movie leaving pieces all over the floor.  We had to change a lightbulb in order to read the picture only instructions.  We put a piece on backwards and had to start all over again (It's not the destination, it's the journey, right)

 Of course since I also believe I have a case of undiagnosed adult onset ADHD I was pleading with Jon to do something else half way through the project but after a few hours the bookshelf came together and we could relax.  Why am I telling you this story?

 The very next morning I open the door to my parents place and there is my Dad putting together an IKEA project for Ashley.  A chest of drawers is no easy feat in the world of put it together Ikeaness. Just like our furniture, deceptively little cardboard box, dozens of pieces, no written instructions only pictures.   Here's how my parents roll....

All of the pieces of wood were strategically stacked in similar and easily accessible pieces according to size, smallest to the right.  All of the hardware was displayed on the granite counter top, in little porcelain bowls again according to size.  I didn't even notice the best part about the project for a few minutes but at second glance I noticed a linen or lace tablecloth displayed neatly beneath the entire do-it-yourself project.  I'm not quite sure but my father probably had on a construction apron and safety goggles.

Although I didn't see my mother she was probably on her way to the grocery store to buy ingredients for Builder Gary's lunch....something like balsamic and shallot chicken breasts or pork patties with plum sauce , all served on fine china - of course.  I also didn't witness the clean up but I am sure it involved a wet vac and dusting off the blinds!  If you think I am poking fun at my parents I am actually just voicing my envy as they continue to run circles around me!

So, when you tell my I am OCD, or CDO in the country because I insist Eli play with animals that are the correct scale with each other, and that the dinosaurs cannot be placed in storage with the GI Joes because they are from different time periods,  just remember I come by it naturally.....and it could be MUCH worse.

country list wish



hello           lover

Poppy Cat

The times of hanging out with Nana out in the country have come and gone.  Apparently now, it is Eli and Poppy time.  Eli is no longer interested in helping me make cookies or wrap a present - no it's Pops all the way.

You know Poppy the farm kid, the one that was able to drive an old Chevy pickup at the ripe of age of 10 or the very same Poppy that stepped up to drive a tractor well enough to work the field not long after that.  Yes it is the same Pops that at age 14 put in  40 hour work weeks on the farm and it was only Wednesday.  Um and the very same little kid who got on the school bus an hour before school started and got off the bus sometimes while the sun was setting.

All of those old facts gave me no comfort on this morning  when I saw Eli and his Poppy attempting to down two trees in our back yard that had died over the summer.  I never ask what the two of them are up to but everywhere Jon goes he has a little, slow moving, non stop talking shadow....with an attitude.  Saturday morning when the two of them loaded a pile of tools into the tractor wagon it didn't even cause me to pause.  The initial load and constant banging in the backyard didn't even initiate concern.

It wasn't until I glanced out the window that I had to catch my breath.  Jon was bending over pulling on a tree stump, one hand clutching an ax while Eli, wielded yet another ax as he focused completely on the stump....or Poppy's head I couldn't tell from my vantage point. I breathed slowly as Eli would get the ax up above his head and then the weight of the iron would drop behind him and spin him completely around. Do Crocs make steel toed shoes for children?   I rolled my eyes as I walked calmly to the laundry room and gathered my tools, bandages, alcohol....tourniquets,the  units of blood I have started stocking.  My curiosity got the best of me though as I watched them pound the tree stump and it didn't give an inch.  I moved a dining room chair closer to the window so I could witness the scene in complete comfort.

After a few minutes - and a few close calls - out came the chain attached to the tractor, once again little Eli in the middle of it all.  From my perch I could see the chain attached to the stump and attached to the tractor and then Eli driving the John Deere while he sat on Poppy's lap.  Apparently both the farm boys had underestimated the strength of the wood, or maybe they had overestimated their lumberjack talents perhaps because again the stump was victorious!

As I got up to push the dining room chair back  to  its place thinking my very old ER skills were not necessary this morning I glimpsed something silver flash by the window.  The Chevy truck and it was coming closer at a pace that made me a bit nervous.  I could see  that at least Eli wasn't driving THAT vehicle.  The truck never paused, never slowed just simply rammed the stump, it finally fell onto the ground as the deep roots were now exposed.  Jon stopped the pickup and smiled as he turned to see the wood.  Eli came out of the truck like a fighter gearing up for a match.  He was chanting something and pumping his fist in the air with a huge grin on his face.  After a series of high fives between them they loaded the old tree trunk and took it away.

All while staying with Poppy for a mere few hours,  It is apparent though that Eli is one huge POPPY CAT!

Drivin with the Devil

I have spent over thirty years dealing with the Broncomanic in my life, why I have even given birth to not two but three children who bear the burden of this same affliction.  I don't know why I am taken aback by the events that occurred during the previous Bronco football Sunday.

In a good natured attempt to celebrate my youngest afflicted son's birthday on Sunday I thought it would be a grand idea for our family to meet up at a sports bar of some kind to watch the game.  Ya know, a few dozen big screen TVs, a couple plates of nachos and chicken wings and other great fans to experience the game.  (Remember I do live in the country and I don't get out much - so I was actually looking forward to it).

Via text I make this very suggestion to the birthday boy.  His exact text response to me:

Mom, this is a big game and I don't really want to watch it where strangers can distract me.

Okay several things bother me about this response.  1.  Strangers?  Really?  If you would have said stranger/possible pedophiles I would think you were starting to sound a bit like your mother.  2.  A big game Tony, really?  I mean, remember you are sick EVERY Bronco game is a big game.  3.  What kind of distractions are we talking about?  Good food, cold beer, exquisite and ongoing football talk about the ins and outs of the last offensive series with another fan who knows the game as well as you do?  Really?

Needless to say, the other sick men in my life agreed and so it was decided to watch the Bronco game from the comforts of home.  Lisa's home (Tony's girlfriend).  So by default this poor young women had to deal with Tony and all his "sick" relatives on a beautiful autumn afternoon.  Lucky her!

Now the harrowing part.  Game time is 2:25 MST.  At 1:45 MST Jon and I are at Aaron and Jill's house finishing a small home improvement project.   It was not my imagination that Aaron's answers were getting a little abrupt and Jon was rolling his eyes a bit more than normal.  Okay truth be told Jon's neck veins were bulging and Aaron was holding his chest because of heart palpitations.  Did I mention the fact that it takes 45 minutes to get from Aaron's house to Lisa's house.  Well 45 minutes UNLESS you are Aaron and now apparently Jon.

I should have known it was going to be a rough ride when right out of the gate Aaron ran a red light....and Jon followed him.  These two men had turned into degenerative creatures of darkness behind the wheel.  The next 20 minutes were spent watching Aaron with Jill in the passenger seat weaving in and out of Denver traffic and holding my breath as Jon mimicked his every move.  Billboards became a blur as we soared past them all.  I watched as cars became mere specks in the rear view mirror in the blink of an eye.   I glanced apologetically to the folks we cut off  as I made sure my seat belt was low and tight across my lap.   I made the sign of the cross as I thought I saw Jon's hands tighten on the steering wheel, his neck veins nearly exploding now.  I receive a text from Jill in the race car ahead.

It is pretty tense in this car right now.

We are going to die, I answered back. I always did have a flare for the dramatic.

We made it across town in traffic.....in 23 minutes.  I got out of the car said a prayer  and leaned down to kiss the good green earth.  Of course the only one who saw me was Jill as the guys were already in front of the big screen TV with 3 minutes to spare.

Word of the day

 

Spent the better part of the afternoon trying to explain to Eli the word - REFLECTION.

 

Tougher than a room full of overachieving nursing students I swear!

Country compromisin

There is a cat residing in my country home and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. 

Boo, was originally one of two cats that I received as a "gift" for "myself" from Eli for Mother's Day last year.  The two cats together were outside cats ONLY.  They slept in a heated bed in the garage, ate outside and managed to make it through the sub zero temps of last winter.  One night this summer the second cat never came home, I suspect he may have been victim to the circle of life that we a subject to.  Although we do have a crazy neighbor who likes to shoot his shotgun at all hours of the night for no apparent reason!   What I like to think though, is that Mike found a girlfriend and now is living with her and their dozen kitty children in cat paradise.  That's what I tell Eli anyway.

Shortly after Mike, umm came up missing Boo learned to use the damn dog door.  Now this is the same cat that we watched scale a 30 foot tree to retrieve not one but four baby birds on four different trips only to bring them down to earth one at a time to "play".  So basically we had to lock big Jack in or out to keep the outside cat out.  Are ya staying with me? 

I assumed cats were always up in your business, on the kitchen counters, sleeping in your laundry, and using an indoor litter box, ugh.  This cat is totally different.  He is stealth.  He is nearly invisible.  He is a ghost of a cat - how appropriate for October?   He likes to stay inside but he doesn't like us to much.

I think he is also bipolar.  I like you, dont touch me.  I see you, don't look at me.  I need you, don't talk to me.  I think the only person who actually picks up this cat is Eli, and that occasion is very rare.  Once in a while when I get up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water I can feel his glowing golden eyes upon me.  I never see him and I certainly don't hear him bu I know he is there, watching, waiting....

High Maintenance Country Style

Last week Jon informed me that I was high maintenance, and I can't wait to tell you why.

It certainly isn't because I like jewels and diamonds. In fact I am not much of a jewelry consumer at all. I like classic simple jewelry and seldom wear anything other than my watch and my wedding ring. Secondly, I'm not much of a flower bouquet person either. It's not that I don't love flowers, it's the fact that I can usually make the flowers much more gorgeous than any other florist...at half the cost, so I really don't desire flowers on any given occasion. 

I don't need piles of collectibles, or mounds of Persian rugs, or designer clothes and handbags...okay I have ONE Michael Khors handbag. My favorite apparel involves Levi's and work boots so I know its not that stuff right? In fact when we moved from Greeley to Brush and I paused to look at all the stuff we had accumulated, I spent weeks going through boxes and bags and got rid of hundreds of items. I didn't sell stuff I gave stuff away, so obviously I don't need stuff of any kind!

I like a vacation every now and again but I certainly don't insist on month long trips to Bali, or long weekend trips to Vegas with the girlfriends. I can't think of any better way to spend a week off of work than walking around our mini farm, grilling and listening to country music and watching our grandson play with the animals from the comfort of my lawn chair on the front drive way.

I don't require a great deal of attention at this stage of my life. I don't ask Jon to call me to see if I need anything or to merely inquire about how he can make my life better today. I don't call my husband to pick up a bag of dog food when we are running low or a bottle of vanilla when I am in the midst of baking a cake.   I don't request Jon do any of the laundry, dishes, housework etc. I don't demand a maid for housekeeping.  I don't even like to go out for dinner for Christ's sake.  I LIKE eating at home and would pick home cooking almost always!

Okay so I don't need stuff or attention, or coddling or acts of service. I don't need diamonds  or vacations...hmmm high maintenance?    No, the reason Jon accused me of being high maintenance? Really?   You just can't make this stuff up folks...is because I asked him to let me out of the booth during breakfast at Diggers Diner.

From now until, well basically eternity Jon will sit on the inside of the booth.  Seriously? 

Trippin at the dentist....

 

Please forgive for not blogging over the past few days but on Tuesday I voluntarily spent over two hours and hundreds of dollars spending time with....the spawn of the devil (known to others as the dentist). AND just because this same man was whooping it up right beside me at my oldest sons wedding just a few short months ago, that doesn't give him any reprieve from the devil's spawn title on this day.

You see way back when, my type a personality and constant jaw clenching caused me to break a back tooth. That tooth was replaced with a crown, which I also broke. I guess I should have listened over the past decade when the doc said wear your night guard, but no I am much too smart for that! So for the past year I have had no back tooth, I mean I can eat an entire bag of Lays potato chips without that tooth so what's the big deal? When the dentist began hounding Jon to hound me about the damn implant I finally submitted. I didn't have anything else to do with two grand anyway!

First of all the dentist and I go back, I mean way back. When I say back I mean this particular man of science knows and respects my obsessive and neurotic thoughts and behavior when it comes to his....business. It was many years ago that I had to inform the secretary in his office that I couldn't wait in the waiting room like normal patients. The sounds and the smells give me anxiety. So therefore the secretary now checks me in then comes to get me in the courtyard only seconds before the doc or even the hygienists are ready. Second I can't be in the very back cubicle because it gives me anxiety. Thirdly don't engage me in any small talk whatsoever, you guessed it gives me anxiety. Lastly do not provide me with details or information or pictures. I have looked up everything i know to now be true on the internet! On this day I actually ask Chris, the receptionist if the Dr. had ever done this procedure on anyone before. On this day she actually answered with....an eye roll.

Next I carefully observe as the staff don their sterile gloves and mask and start talking in code to one another. They think I can't hear them but I can make out words like suction, and needle, and saw and bloody pulp. Oh I hear it alright, make no mistake!

Tuesday was no different, except for the the fact I believe I was exceptionally obnoxious for 9:00 a.m. I first noticed the buffet of medieval type instruments partially covered by light blue paper towels. Seriously there were like four trays full of devices, usually there is only one....I take a mental note. THEN there is an extra person in that space, a stranger . Seriously is this so invasive that it takes another office employee...and I take another mental note. THEN the assistant that is also a spawn merely by association asks me to rinse out my mouth with some type of antibiotic solution, because this procedure is so invasive....I quickly scan the room for an escape route. I forgot my IPod, I insisted the assistant hunt down some random MP3 player so we could all continue. For all i know she ran and stole one from a pedestrian walking by the office. Then I noticed the wall clock was missing. "Where did the wall clock go? How long is this gonna take again?", I question.  " No watching the clock"'  she answers as she quickly slaps the nitrous over my nose. Then the standard, conversation ensues...and one all the players involved know all too well.


Dentist, " Roxanne, how are ya doing as he pats my shoulder
Roxanne, " the nitrous isn't working I swear is it working? Can you turn it up it up. I swear i cant feel a thing! Maybe I should do this with IV sedation. Should I come back a different day?
Dentist, " it's up to you, just try and relax.
And the same dialogue goes on and on and on....
I close my eyes and I really try to go to my happy place and I keep peeking every time I feel like it is safe. I feel the vibrations and the pulling and the pushing and I sense the metallic taste of my own blood.  Ugh.

Then I always ask,  "Are we half done, are we a third done?"   I have to use the restroom, I need some air but don't take that nitrous off.The dialogue goes on and on.   I swear for an entire two hours the only thing touching that chair was my heels and the back of my head. I was so wound up that I don't even feel like my shoulders touched the chair. When the DDS asked me if I was allergic to anything I told him only you, you sick sadistic bastard, but I'm blaming that on the nitrous.  Just kidding about the bastard part!

Anyway as always I sent them a fruit tray the next day and signed the card as always, sorry for being such a pain in your ass. A ND as always as he called to check on me that night I am always too embarrassed to talk with him directly on the phone so to voicemail it goes.

The good news, the implant is done. The bad news is I have another appointment in less than two weeks.

Tailgating.....or not.

The cadets before the game.

Eli and Uncle Tony drawing offensive plays in the dirt before the game

Jon. Logan and Tony.  I am soooo proud!

Leslie, Cadet Eli and Terry.

Our well behaved football gang!

Dalton!

Ash and Eli waiting for the jet flyover!

Is it me or did the tailgate party and the game last weekend seem umm somewhat calm.  I'm sure it couldn't be the fact that I am nearly fifty years old and getting entirely too old for such nonsense.  I however have to admit that on some deep (and twisted ) level I secretly love to watch and at times partake in tailgating and game nonsense.

Not this week though.  I have to say I have never seen such a group of quiet and mild mannered tailgate groups scattered throughout the dirt field outside the Airforce Academy stadium in Colorado Springs.  Ya, I know its the AF Academy, honor, integrity and all that, I get it.  What I thought though is that all that deep and honorable stuff would get squashed and overrun by the usual CSU shenanigans I am accustomed to.

There were no students walking dozens of blocks with a suitcase of Keystone Light parked on their shoulder making their way to the game.  There were no pickup loads of students and alumni in the back of Chevy pickups wedged in between the barbecue grill and the keg on ice loudly entering the parking lot.  I didn't see guys.... or girls for that matter, tired of waiting for the porta potty line to pee just outside an open car door.  In fact, I went to the porta potty one time during the tailgater and there was no line, none at all.  Unless I was coming down with a serious  sinus infection, it was one of the best smelling porta potty's I have ever used.  (I am thinking it must be some top secret military secret project that the general public knows nothing about).

I missed watching my boys, okay who are now grown and employed men, stir it up with fans from the other team.  I missed all the kids make an intoxicated attempt to sing the CSU fight song or lure the cheerleaders to their tailgate for a cold beverage.  I sound like I am talking about the students but make no mistakes the adults were just as bad (and good)   I didn't even witness one person throw up, not a one.

No, this tailgater involved young cadets sitting around in lawn chairs arranged in a semi circle sipping bottled water involved in quiet conversations.  Various scattered tailgate games could be seen throughout the parking lot....many of them didn't even involve drinking games!  I had no idea!   Weird!  Jon's nephew Logan (a CSU student) did challenge Jon to a shotgunning of the beers duel.  Jon lost, really lost.  Then it was done, over.  If this game would have been in FoCo, the duel would have lasted until game time or until the horse mounted police game by and hauled one of them away.

Of course the game was  not great if you are a CSU fan, but I have never seen the most well behaved crowd at a game before.  No screaming, no boobies, no Aaron Cook sitting in the middle of the AF crowd chanting down with Obama or anything.  Yes it was a very conservative crowd indeed, you may take that comment as political satire if you want....I'm just saying.  The AF fans sitting next to me tried to strike up a polite conversation.  Of course I immediately asked Jon to trade me places!

I do have to admit the pageantry of the Academy was impressive.  Watching all the cadets march onto the field in their squadron and then run into the seats, followed by a flyover and paratroopers was actually pretty cool, even for a gal who prefers to sit on the...left side of the stadium, if ya know what I mean.

Oh and just as a public service announcement to ...anyone interested.  If you are attached to one of the Cook men, you never leave a football game early.  No matter how boring it is, how much of a blowout it is, how hot it is, how cold it is or how late you are to another engagegment.  You never EVER get the opportunity to leave a football game early. 

Dinner in the Country

Wow, how times have changed.  We used to be a meat and potatoes type of family for so many years.  I mean, it was all about the meatloaf and the scalloped potatoes, the pot roast and the hashbrown casserole, the t-bone and the french fires, the bean and beef burritos....ya see what I mean?  Man Nowadays I absolutely hate planning a meal no matter what occasion.

You see about three years ago I became a vegetarian.  No big deal I always and still do today basically fix two meals, one for Jon and one for me.  I fix Jon a steak and a salad and I have a salad not a huge undertaking.

Now Ashley loves the potato part, not so much the meat but she will eat a baked potato, mashed poatato, potato casserole etc and she will not complain, not even a bit.

Then add Aaron who not only dislikes but hates cilantro.  I mean who the hell hates Cilantro its an herb for Christ sake Aaron.  None the less Aaron hates it, doesn't speak to it, didn't even invite it to the wedding, that's how strongly he feels.  Okay so no Cilantro, got it.  I wont even mention that Aaron is not overly found of pasta....really?

Then take Tony's world, that pretty much revolves around bacon.  Basically if I can find any disgusting food and wrap a piece of fried pork fat around it, Tony would not only eat it, but love it. So I  got it..... No Cilantro, pasta is iffy, lots of bacon, meat and potatoes for Jon....I got it.

Challenging enough right?  Then add Jill who enjoys a gluten free diet.  Okay before Aaron starting dating Jill I thought gluten was a type of chicken, sweet Jesus!  So originally gluten free was no bread, no crackers, no pretzels, no cookies (basically no fun).  Low and behold so many food items have gluten in them and I had no idea.  What I have learned is  that if a product is able to print gluten free on the label...they can charge twice as much and I can pass them my credit card with a smile on my face knowing I am taking great care in planning my menu!  So I seriously have it no cilantro, lots of bacon, pasta ....maybe, no cookies, special gravy and meat for Jon. Mary Mother of God I GOT IT.

THEN Tony introduces us to his girlfriend Lisa, who is also a strict vegetarian AND she is from Boulder so...she MEANS it.  So know I have learned there are different types of Boca Burgers some with meat by products some with gluten products and the only place I can get a damn Boca Burger that pleases everyone is Denver.

Of course we have to add Eli in the mix.  His requests always include dino nuggets and/or mac and cheese.  So just add it okay?  I really don't care whata anyone else is eating.

So basically, here we are happy as clams, living in the country with a freezer full of organic grass fed beef, organic chicken and frozen pastries from school fund raising functions that no one will eat.  Okay I am not even complaining, the only thing I am gonna say is next Thanksgiving....we are eating out or the next dinner menu will only be serving Bloody Mary's!!

Back by demand

Back by request the Gardens, Goats and Grand kids blog has returned.  It has been over a year since my last post and I can't even begin to describe a life in the year out here in the country.  I can only reiterate this life is a crazy, sad, exciting, joyful and memorable journey.

During the past year I said goodbye to those I love, gained new family members, sat at countless celebration dinners, and unforgettable dinners for no reason at all. I have fallen even more in love with my husband and learned that I can love my children more than life and now just sit back and enjoy their wonderful accomplishments.  I started new country projects and even managed to finish some old ones.   We had more and more baby goats and I cried when we sold goats.  I have had the privilege of being a part of my grandsons life and seeing him nearly every day. I reconnected with old friends and made new friends, went way out of my comfort zone  and have been lucky enough to surround myself with those who provide me with great peace and comfort, and finally after 4 years of living in the country and after of this runnin, feel like I'm finally comin....home.

I know, I know this is not my usual sarcastic, weird country humor but I can assure you I have a list a mile long that I have been waiting to write about so I won't disappoint you twisted individuals who love to laugh along with me....or at me, which ever you prefer.

In June of this year Jon said goodbye to his mother and my mother-in-law, Arla.  I find myself stopping randomly in the middle of a task for no apparent reason and just thinking how permanent this really is.  She is gone now until I get to see her again but I can tell you her spirit surrounds us out here in the country.  Every time I see a new purple flower blooming in the garden it reminds me of her and every time I get her handwritten recipe out for Jon's favorite raisin pie I can almost see her rolling out the pie crust dough by hand.  When Jon stops working to tell little Eli  it's all going to be okay I see her gentle and soft spoken word connecting to us all.  I will always remember her as giving me the disease of loving everything old.  She told me once. "Don't worry so much about it being  a bargain.  If you love it and you have the opportunity to buy it, it's a steal".  Much to Jon's dismay I have used this advice for years and still do today.   We are excited to be working on a beautiful garden/patio area at our place that will be called Grandma's Garden and dedicated to Grandma Arla complete with firepit, a reading bench and reflection pond.  It will be a perfect place for us to honor her memory.  Arla also told me several months ago I really should keep writing "the Internet story", she enjoyed it so I am taking her advice.

We also said good bye to a wonderful building contractor and someone we considered a friend when Dave Balderston passed away in May.  He was a very reputable and busy man but that never prevented him from stopping what he was doing to show Jon how to cut an angle or set a stair post.  We think about him often as we look around the beautiful remodel projects he completed in our home.  Jon and I have adopted his phrase, "Beautiful Brush, Colorado". 

In July we were overjoyed to welcome our first daughter-in-law into our family.  Jill is a precious addition to our family and we all have fallen in love with her.  The two of them had a wonderful and special ceremony, a great honeymoon and now seem to be settling in to life as a married couple.  As I told Jill it was difficult for this recovering control freak to stay out of every detail about the wedding but she had every last detail covered is still speaking to me afterward....which is a great thing!

Last week my parents celebrated 50 years of marriage with a wonderful western themed dinner and dance.  It was great to have so many friends and family near to help us honor these two people we all love.  Last week at work I had to fill out a cheesy survey and one of the questions was who is your hero?  My answer has always been (okay maybe not when I was 15) and will always be my parents.  Not only are they my heros but they continue to serve as role models for me as a way I would like to live my life.

We celebrated milestone birthday parties, and holidays and work promotions and new jobs, and graduations and Air Force appointments and nursing school acceptance  We watched the Broncos win....and lose.  We watched Tim Tebow come.... and go.  Last week Jon celebrated 30 years at PepsiCo - holy cow!  We watched our garden shrivel as only about 1 inch of rain came down from the sky for the entire summer!  We talked ourselves into buying a horse, we talked ourselves out of it.  Like I said, it has been a journey.....

And so, stay tuned, the blog begins again.