Staying at Home

I'm enjoying not driving on a daily basis. I mean, I still drive, just not as often. I did go into the big city yesterday to visit my parents and drop a check in the night deposit slot at the bank, but I don't drive four or five days a week. And, since I'm not driving 90 miles a day and staying away from home for long hours, I've been working around, on and in my house.

So, today, I tackled the garage. Since I moved in three years ago and unpacked most of my stuff, I've had a stack of empty boxes piled in there. I finally broke them down; I filled up my trash can and have another stack that won't fit in there this time. I used nails and hooks to hang up my hand tools and an old rack someone gave me for my long-handled tools. I neatly restacked the boxes of books I don't have shelves for on the wall opposite the tools. I swept out the garage. If not for the riding lawnmower, I'd have room to park my car!

Before the day got too hot, I put some edging around the front garden I dug up this week, but I don't have enough of it. My mom needs to finish her front flower bed before I'll get the rest of the edging, but, so far, the front garden looks good. And I finished mowing the front yard.

I washed all of my dirty clothes. I had company last week--my sister--and I've been ignoring that chore. And I still need to close up the back wall of the shower. I'm so tempted to start pulling up carpet, but I have to think through that project before I start it--I'd need a pry bar and sandpaper, and polyurethane, and who knows what. So I'd better put that off for a while. But it's on the list of things to do, along with the chicken coop and yard, the compost bin, raised planting beds...

The Herb Garden

I finally got some batteries for my camera and took some pictures of the herb garden my sister and I planted. When Dorothy and Pete were here at Christmas, they found some melamine plates in the old shed. We used those plus some stoneware plates I had to create the border around the garden. Plus, my sister had some bee chotchkas that we put in there. The kittens love it; they chase each other around in in. I'm afraid they are going to destroy the herbs.

Here's another view, more long range. Ignore the dates--I forgot to change the date on the camera.


Oh, and if you want spider lily bulbs, I have a huge box and a tall bag full. I've been digging up the ground in front of the sidewalk out front. I've only gotten half the area dug up; I think I'll end up with more and I have no idea what to do with them! I like spider lilies, but a box and a bag full of them? I'm sure I didn't get all of them, so a few will pop up in the spring. So, if you want some, just leave a comment and we'll work it out.

The Plumbing Debacle Redux

After $250 dollars and several hours of chipping at concrete, I have a working bathroom.

Not only did the plumber put in new fittings, faucets and a shower head, because I demolished the wall, he also fixed the toilet and unstopped my bathroom sink (it was running slow). I don't have to close the bathroom door to keep from hearing the toilet run and the shower drip. I just have to be careful not to drop an earring down the bathroom sink--he took out the "built-in" stopper because it kept getting gunked up.

To recap--I took down the wall behind the shower stall to help with the repair work and to lower my costs. When I took down said wall, I found a mess of concrete and 2x4s. Mr. Lindsey spent a good hour chipping away at cement buildup just to get to the pipe fittings, and, of course, he had to remove the 2x4 right above the fittings. What he charged me seems a pittance, considering what he had to do to fix the leak. Once he finished the shower, he gutted the toilet tank and put in low-flow works--it uses less water to flush and it fills up faster. I don't have to wait 15 minutes for the tank to shut off. And then he took the stopper out of the sink, grabbed the plunger, and, in two seconds, flushed out all the gunk that had built up in the sink pipes.

What a guy! And he also does electrical work, so, when I'm ready to put in a breaker box to replace the fuse box in the garage, I know who I'm going to call.

When I told my sister what he charged me, she asked me if I thought he'd come to Houston and do some work for her. Probably, if she wants to pay for his gas!

As soon as I recharge my AA batteries, I'll take pictures of the (still) open wall so you can see his excellent work, unless I decide to do the drywalling before then. I've spent the last three days working in the yard, but I'll write about that next time.

I don't mind paying for good work, and I certainly don't mind paying when the person I'm paying goes above and beyond. And Mr. Lindsey has never let me down. This is the third time he's done plumbing work for me (not in the same house, not for the same problem), and he works quickly and accurately. He does what he says he will do. So, the next time I need plumbing or electrical work, I'll call him. I have his number on speed dial.

*****
I stopped by Mr. Lester's twice Saturday--once on the way to my mother's, and, again, with my sister on the way back to my house.

The first trip, I bought a huge cabbage for my mom, a head of lettuce, about three pounds of yellow squash, and about three pounds of new potatoes for $9.80. (I split the squash with my mom, too.) On the way back, I bought a round zucchini (round like a small pumpkin!), some fresh corn, and a jar of local honey. I think that's all, and I think I spent about $10 (the honey was $6.95 for a pint).

My mom came out to my house on Sunday and cooked half the cabbage (with some of the potatoes) and the squash. My sister and I had the leftovers and added the corn for dinner. A mostly vegetarian day! And all of it was excellent. I'll be so glad when my garden starts producing--but I did spy a tomato today, so the vegetable garden is progressing!

The Plumbing Debacle

I was taking a shower last Thursday when I heard a pipe-like clunk, the the water pressure dropped. A long string of swear words flew out of my mouth as hot water scalded my back.

I didn't think much of it. It's not unusual in this town for an errant car to take out a fire hydrant and plunge the water pressure. I didn't hear any running water, so I didn't think much about it until the next night. I went to take a shower, and the water pressure sucked. So, I went to the Internet.

One of the great things about the 'net, besides blogs, is that I can find information about anything. So, I read up on low water pressure and decided I needed to take my shower head apart and reseat the washers, and, for a night, at least, that worked.

The next day, Saturday, I was brushing my teeth when I noticed an odd noise. I couldn't figure out what it was; actually, I thought it was my imagination. Until later in the day, that is, and on Sunday, when the noise escalated into a low hum. Every cold water pipe in my house was vibrating, and the noise sounded similar to a small wind tunnel.

I called a plumber on Monday, left a message, and didn't get a call back. So, I called another plumber on Tuesday, Mr. Lindsey. He worked on the water heater before I moved into the house. His wife is his assistant, and she's a nice person.

Mr. Lindsey came out, turned off the water, and proceeded to take the shower faucets off. Except he couldn't completely take the faucets off because whoever put the faucets in used non-standard washers and fittings. Mr. Lindsey didn't have sockets that fit. He put the faucets back on, turned on the water, and told me he'd come back Wednesday with some other sockets to try.

He came back Wednesday with three new sockets. One worked--on the first washer he had to take off--but not on the second. His opinion? They don't make a socket that size. My question--how the hell did the person who built the shower put the washer on in the first place? He didn't have an answer.

"What are my options?" I asked, innocently. Try to find the right socket (which he was pretty sure didn't exist) or rip out the tile wall on the toilet side of the shower so he could get to the faucets from the back. Or live with the drip in the shower (I was mighty tempted).

"And how much will ripping out the wall cost?" I asked again, innocently. Well, if he had to rip out the tile and the drywall, I would be looking at $250, minimum. I choked. And begged him to try to find a socket that would fit. We scheduled our third plumbing session for Friday.

I was supposed to go to a QM seminar for online teaching today. As I was pulling out of my driveway at 7:30am this morning, a backhoe met me in my driveway. The driver pulled off into my yard. "What's going on?" I asked. "Oh, there's a water leak in the ditch; it's on the city side, so I'm going to fix it."

I hadn't noticed any leaking water, but we've had some rain lately. I found out today that my plumber noticed the leak on Tuesday and called the city to fix it. But he didn't tell me he did that.

So, I cancelled my attendance at the seminar. I'm not about to go off for an entire day while some guy with a backhoe digs up my yard. I could come home and find the water turned off with an ominous note about a leak that might cost $1,000 to fix.

The city guys fixed the leak in 40 minutes. Why can't my shower leak be fixed as quickly?

So, the plumber and I played phone tag today. When we finally spoke, I asked him if he had found the socket. "No," he said. My only option was to rip out the wall.

I did. All by myself. I took off all of the tile on the backside of the shower. I chipped off cement and ripped out the metal mesh. I ripped out the sheet rock. Guess what? A 2' x 4' sits almost right on top of the pipes. I still don't think he'll be able to get to what he needs unless he cuts out the board. And so much cement is gunked up in there that we'll probably have to chip it out to get a clear shot at the pipes. Mr. Lindsey is going to sit on the floor and cry. I almost did. After two hours of chiseling and chipping and ripping, I faced a bloody mess.

But I did it. That will, at least, decrease the labor costs. And I think that Mr. Lindsey didn't think I'd be able to do it. His voice held a trace of skepticism when I told him I would do it. He may still not be happy about what he sees, but at least he didn't have to do it.

One of the best things, though, is that I've increased my tool count. I bought grinding wheels to use with my drill, safety goggles, masks, and a drywall saw. I used the pitchfork I bought the other day to help pry the wire and concrete off the wall (I don't have a crowbar--yet).

But the BEST thing is--I did it ALL BY MYSELF! And I'm going to repair the drywall ALL BY MYSELF, too. The more I can do for myself, the better I feel.

Now to tackle cleaning out the gutters!

*****
P.S. Mr. Lester's produce stand has opened! You should come and check it out--south on Highway 1 from Shreveport; turn left at the blinking light at Armistead. His stand is on the right side of the road before you get to the Red River Bridge.

Raindrops keep falling on my head...

so I'm staying inside, doing inside work.

I edited two files for NAF, and reviewed a transcript I spent 11 hours typing yesterday. Really, if you've never done transcription, word up--a one-hour voice file takes me anywhere from nine to twelve hours to transcribe. Seems slow, maybe, but I edit as I go. Most transcriptionists just type what they hear and ignore punctuation, etc. (That's why I edit transcipts, too. The punctuation usually sucks.) I was up until 2am doing that; I slept until almost 10am this morning, which was nice. The rain kept the sun from shining in the bedroom window--the sun always wakes me.

I was going to tackle the periwinkle bed that surrounds the pecan tree in the back yard, but I guess I'll postpone that until later in the week. I did transplant irises yesterday. I had a bunch around the carport; I dug those up. My mom gave me a bag full, so I dispersed them at various points in the front and back yards. Hopefully, I'll have a riot of color next spring--purple, blue, yellow, white.

Oh, and does anyone want a kitten? I have a feral cat who had five cute kittens--two solid gray, two gray and white, and one gray with a few white accents. I need to trap the mother and have her neutered (anyone have a cat trap?); the babies aren't too scared of me yet--I can pick them up--but the mom will eventually make them run away from me. I need to find homes for them now, so, if you want one, let me know, and you can come catch the one you want.

I restarted my sourdough starter and baked some sourdough biscuits this morning--yummy. And I made a loaf of artisan bread--one of the easiest bread recipes in the world. No kneading, really, but the bread needs a first rising of from 8 to 12 hours. I added wheat flour to this loaf; it's also yummy. I think I'll tackle sourdough bagels tomorrow. I have a simple recipe for those, and I used to make bagels all the time. The price of flour has increased, but it's still cheaper to buy the flour and make my own bread. A loaf of bread costs almost as much as a bag of flour; I can get six or seven loaves of bread from a bag of flour.

Here are two simple bread recipes:

Beer Bread

2 1/2 cups self-rising flour (if using unbleached, add salt, baking powder and soda--you'll have to figure out the measurements for those!)
1-12 oz. can/bottle of beer, cheap or expensive, your choice.

Pour 1/2 of the beer into the flour and stir (no sipping!). When absorbed, pour in the rest of the beer. You can add shredded cheese, garlic, veggies, whatever, to this bread. Scrape into a large bread pan and bake at 375 degrees until done, about 45 minutes.


Artisan Bread

I got this recipe from Mother Earth News.

You need a covered crock to bake this in. I use the insert from my crock pot. Works great. But don't bake this in a metal pan--you'll have to pry it out with a crowbar! And be careful with Pyrex--that may shatter at such high temps.

3 cups unbleached flour, bread flour, wheat flour, or a combination.
1 tsp. salt
1/4 teaspoon yeast (if you buy the packets, you don't need to use the whole thing--just 1/4 tsp.)
1 1/2 cups warm water.

Dissolve the yeast in the water. Add the flour and salt and stir. The dough will be wet and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap or a towel and set to rise in a warm place for 8 to 12 hours.

Dump sticky dough onto floured surface; fold dough on itself 4 or 5 times, flouring as you go. Shape into a round loaf. Dust a towel with cornmeal; place the loaf on the cornmeal towel; dust the top of the loaf with flour. Cover with a towel and let rise for 2 hours.

About 20 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place the pot in which you will bake the bread in the oven to preheat it. After 20 minutes, take the pot out of the oven, slide the bread, cornmeal side down, into the pot. Place cover on pot and return to oven. Let the bread bake with the cover on until the top turns just brown (about 30 minutes). Remove the cover from the pot, and bake for another 15 minutes or so, until a probe inserted into the bread comes out clean.

Remove the pan from the oven, remove the bread from the pan, and set to cool on a wire rack. Wait at least an hour before cutting. Really good for thick sandwiches or with a pot of homemade soup or stew.

So, make a loaf of bread! It's another way to destress and to enjoy the fruits of your labor!

A raging case of poison ivy...

and it's my own fault. I didn't wear long sleeves. So, the calamine lotion stays close to hand.

But I've made some progress on my yard, which is my summer "task." I planted my puny little garden, which is growing slowly (I'll probably pick tomatoes in August at this rate!); but I also cleaned out the area around this odd piece of fencing in my backyard and the corner of the front "flower bed." I cut down an errant holly bush that was growing under the carport, and trimmed the azaleas obscuring the back windows.

I bought a cultivator--it's not quite a tiller--but it works well with my loamy soil and makes weeding a breeze. And I've been able to beef up my compost pile with all kinds of green and brown matter, not to mention banana peels, apple cores, and eggshells. I've mowed the grass twice--the last time, I finished the whole thing in about 1 1/2 hours.

My ultimate goal this summer is to build a chicken coop and get a couple of chickens. Don't know if I will succeed, but I'm going to try.

Mr. Lester's produce stand should be opening soon--if not tomorrow, then the next week. I try to go at least twice--I wait until the last week to buy my peaches. The later peaches are more ripe when they are picked, and I can make peach honey with them. I always buy my mom a cabbage, and I get some locally-produced honey. Mr. L's prices are usually pretty good, but I wonder how the cost of gas will affect him this year.

I haven't been doing much since I posted my grades--answering email, doing some work for the Norton Art Foundation--and I do need to get my summer class up and running. But I've tried to work in the yard everyday. I need the exercise! And it's good for me, too. Besides, the weather has been so pleasant. Who wants to stay inside all day?

So, go outside and dig in the dirt. It's the best therapy for overwork.

The Usual End-of-Semester Post

Well, actually, it's not a usual post. And it's not quite the end of the semester, though the end is in sight.

The College of Liberal Arts, the college in which I teach, had it's annual social last night. I honestly thought about ditching it because of the gas prices. I know--if I lived in Europe, I'd have something to complain about. I suppose everything is relative. But, with a budget already strained beyond its limits, high gas prices are the "straw" on my camel's back. I am grateful for distance learning--its my pathetic stab at the hearts of the huge oil companies. For three months or so, I will not drive so much, thereby doing my part to conserve resources. If all of us could work from home at least one day a week, we'd probably conserve quite a bit of gas--as long as we didn't use the day away from the company to run the roads!

Anyway, I bit the gas bullet and attended the social. I had received a couple of anxious "You are going, aren't you?" requests on Thursday before I left for the day. That should have clued me that the game was afoot. But I dismissed any thoughts of what might be coming. I've attended these socials for years. They are fun and great ways to spend time with your colleagues--especially people from other departments who I hardly see.

Every year, the department hands out awards--three to adjuncts (who contribute a great deal to the smooth-running of any department) and three to full-time faculty. The awards to the full-time faculty go for service, scholarship, and teaching. This year, a history colleague received the scholarship award, as he should have; the service award went to a music professor, as it should have; and--hold on to your hats--I received the teaching award.

"Shocked" is the first word that comes to mind, "delighted" is the second, and "humble" is the third. I have the framed certificate sitting on a shelf in my living room. Every once in a while, I glance at it and feel grateful for the opportunity to do what I love. Where else could I have this much fun? I get to talk about writing and literature, commas and semicolons, and anything else that appears to be relevant to whatever course I'm teaching at the moment. I meet great people, make friends, and get to fuss when necessary. And I have a cool work environment--an office with a window and free books from book companies that want us to adopt their texts. Not bad.

I spent thirty years trying NOT to teach. I kept thinking that I could make more money doing something else--computing services, technical support, administrative assistant-type jobs. I almost always ended up teaching something. Desperation drove me back to academia. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me--right up there with being born and having my children.

My life lesson--money isn't everything. Teaching pays decently, but, if we work only for money, then any money we earn is tainted with dissatisfaction. I have to love my work first. Otherwise, it becomes drudgery. One thing I can say for sure is that teaching never gets dull, and, while it does have some tediousness (I don't really like to grade papers all of the time), it's one of the most creative and thought-provoking jobs in the world. I get paid to think; I get paid to have fun and share my love of English. Who could ask for more than that?

I don't know that any of my colleagues read this blog, but, if any of them do, I say "Thank you." Thank you for your support, thank you for your joy, thank you for being willing to share yourselves and your talents.

To my students--past, present, and future--thank you for making what I do so much fun. Thanks for your enthusiam, your struggles, your effort. Just thanks!

Eloise's Hat, a work in progress.

Finally, after many months, I've written a poem. I just wrote it this morning and it's undergone some changes, but I expect, with feedback from my writing friends, it will improve.

I wrote it in memory of a woman for whom my daughter was one of many caretakers the last few months. Eloise died of breast cancer, so this is for her and for all men and women who battle this disease.

Eloise’s Hat
04/13/08


I.

The clear sky chides me from my study.
Knee-high grass waves and laughs.

I must mow.

I have waited through cold and wind and rain.
The hulking mower stares
from the garage.

I delay. I dress. I stop
for water, grab the key,
pull on my grandmother’s boots,
find gloves
and Eloise’s hat.

I am ready.


II.

The lawnmower scares me,
all roar and wire and stuttering.
It could blow up.
It could stall out.
It could run out of gas.
It is like me.


III.

It is red and loud.
I would wear earplugs
but I would miss birdsong.
I would be out of touch.

I wouldn’t hear the ping
of pinecones spinning off the blades
or hear the rocks
smash against tree trunks.

The yard flashes past me
at three miles an hour
and I must watch
the tall grass fall.


III.

I take a drink of water, a long breath.
I push the mower into the yard,
slip the lever to neutral,
flip the park switch,
set the choke.
I am deliberate.
I turn the key.
It chugs alive after months of sleep.
I move the lever to forward,
move from choke to rabbit,
increase speed.
I drop the blades.
“Off with their heads,” I yell.
I’m off to murder the grass.


IV.

Here is what you see:

A fifty-ish woman
in her grandmother’s boots
scruffy clothes
and a broad-brimmed straw hat
strap firmly under chin.
Her gloved hands
grip the wheel
and give to its swerve.
She seems intent
watches the highs
and lows.
She doesn’t hurry
though she feels
the earth move past
without her consent.

V.

I ride and mow
and think of Flo.
Her boots go with me
to stake and weed and harvest.
They stand with me.
They kick stray logs
into the fire pit.


VI.

The hat stays on my head
despite the wind and speed.
My eyes shade clear.

I think of Eloise.
I did not know her.

I imagine she wore this hat
on days when, wheeled to her patio,
she watched my daughter
weed and plant
the gardens out of reach,
this hat keeping the sun
from her face, her head.

I think how seventeen years
with a husband is too short.

I think this is a glorious day.

I think that chemo and radiation
might dim even my view.

I don’t know.

I thank Eloise for the hat
and write poems to her as I ride.

She rides with me.

It is my gift to her.


VII.

The broken limbs and twigs
hump over the fire pit.
I strike a match
and thrust it to the heart of things.
The flames rise to low tree limbs.
I hose them down to moderate the burn.
I watch the mound flatten to coals
and think of the women
I would not become.

I am all of them.


Thanks for the poem, Eloise, and for the hat!

First Mow of the Season...

Well, I cranked up the riding mower and took a ride around...and around...and around the yard today, but I'm not finished. I was afraid of running out of gas in the south forty, so I stopped when I got all of the high grass cut down. I still need to mow closer to the house, and, though I did a good job, I think, of picking up the sticks, the wind has been blowing constantly, shaking down a fresh crop of twigs that I need to gather for the burn pile. I plan to do that tomorrow morning, buy more gas for the mower, and finish the job.

I wore Eloise's hat today for yard work. It's a nice straw hat with an adjustable chin strap so it won't blow off while I'm working in the yard and riding the mower. Eloise died from breast cancer; my daughter was one of her care-givers to the end. Eloise gave Dorothy a bunch of hats; I asked for this one, and I felt guilty asking for it, but my daughter was generous and let me have it. So, the whole time I was mowing the grass today, I was writing poems to Eloise in my head. I need to write some of them down and send them to Dot. I feel lucky that I'm still healthy enough, in my fifties, to mow the grass, teach my classes, and generally make my way through the world. I should complain less. My life could be worse, really. And while that sounds cliched and stupid, it's true. I should remind myself, more often, to be grateful. And happy.

The semester is almost over. I will miss this current crop of students--they've been fun, interesting, and hard-working. And they don't complain much, really! Everything a teacher likes in students!

And I'm teaching summer school from home, so less driving! Hooray! I can reduce the big oil companies' profits by a tiny bit. Wouldn't it be great if more people could telecommute? We'd be able to reduce at least some of our dependence on oil. Of course, we still have to deal with heating and cooling the house, and a million other products that require petroleum. I wish I had enough money to convert my house to solar energy.

I'm going to make a conscious effort this summer to reduce the amount of gas I use. Except for a trip to Austin, I may only drive to visit my mother. I'll be a hermit! At least until the fall semester begins. Then I'll only be driving in two days a week and for meetings when I must.

Coffee's ready and I have papers to grade, or, as Robert Frost writes, "But I have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep." So, I'm off to the next task.

P. S. The peach tree I planted last year has peaches on it! But the plum trees I planted are just now leafing out--I haven't seen any blooms. Boo! That's not going to help the older plum trees that have already bloomed and leafed out. Probably no plums, unless the Victoriana sprouts some. I'll keep you posted.

Inserting a URL into my blog

I'm using this as a demo for a student at the moment.

And here's a URL inserted into my blog.

http://www.slate.com/id/2184933/

Home Again, Home Again...

I had a great time in Austin, but my stay there was too short! I mostly sat around watching my kids do things, ate too much great food (my daughter's an excellent cook), ran around town getting a first-hand look at how poor, creative people get what they need for less. My son traded a bicycle frame, parts, and tires for new tires for his own bike. I watched him pirate parts from that bike frame to spiff up his. He's creative and resourceful.

My kids have gardens all over their backyard. I like making a salad from greens picked straight from the garden, only getting what you need, and not having the extras turn brown and slimy in the fridge. My daughter and her boyfriend spent Saturday framing a shed for the washing machine that's in the backyard. Dorothy also rigged up an irrigation system from the washer's draining to water the plants with graywater. It's ingenious, made of pvc pipe and a soaker hose.

I went to Treasure City, a resale shop run totally by volunteers, for their Saturday Sidewalk Sale. Everything outside was 25 cents. We racked up on some good stuff. My son's girlfriend helped start the co-op, and she also works at Ecology Action in Austin. She's a contractor, and she and her roommates are renovating the house they just bought. She's an amazing person.

We also went to Tops, which is an office furniture resale warehouse. I found an excellent desk chair for $10! I'm sitting in it right now, and, I can tell you, it's more comfortable than the straight-back chair I've been using.

My cats missed me. I know this because they have been following me around the house since I got home. I hope they get used to me being here for a while. With gas prices the way they are, I don't think I'll be taking more trips soon, except for driving to and from school. But, when summer gets here, I'll be teaching online, so I won't have to leave the house. And, in the fall, I'll be teaching two online classes, so I'll only be going in two days a week. I'm looking forward to not driving so much.

But, I'm home, and life is good, until I have to pay my taxes!

Signs of Spring, 2008

Well, about two weeks until Easter, and, of course, we had snow today. Didn't stick, thanks to the 70 degree weather we had earlier in the week!

And, thanks to that same weather, everything around me is blooming. My Mayhaw trees are busting out in white; Mr. Lester's peach trees are purpley-pink; the japonica, narcissus, jonquils and redbuds flaunt their colors all around. A purple haze hovers over plowed and unplowed fields. I'm hoping the freeze doesn't affect the fruit crops--mine or Mr. Lester's. I'm anxious to see if I get any plums from any of the four trees I have, and, of course, I'm hoping the peach tree I planted last year produces more than five peaches.

I need to get started on my garden, but I'm going to wait until after Easter this year. Last year, I planted on Easter weekend and spent the entire time covering and uncovering my plants because we had a late freeze.

I love spring. Next to fall, it's my favorite season. I enjoy my garden. It's about the only exercise I get these days.

This has been a difficult week. I'm behind in my grading, thanks to a number of factors, but I refuse to provide any excuses for falling behind.

We had a candidate on campus this week; we took her to dinner last night at Indigo, a new Indian restaurant. The food was great. I had to drive home in a freezing, pounding rain. I hydroplaned twice because of the buildup of water on the roads. I had to lower my speed considerably, so I didn't get home until 10pm. Then I was up at 6am this morning to go back into school (I usually am not on campus on Fridays) to sit in on a class the candidate taught. Then I had a meeting. I thought I'd take a nap when I got home, but I ended up working on one of my classes and downloading papers I need to grade. By tomorrow, I should have about four sets of papers to grade. Sigh! And we have another candidate coming in on Tuesday. That means a late night on Wednesday, with my usually early day on Thursday.

I'm so glad spring break is coming up. Austin, here I come!

Always call the busy person...

I'm constantly amazed that, though I don't think I can find one more minute to do one more thing, I can and do "find time" to squeeze one more task into my already task-filled day.

Last night, I read/graded a set of essays, and was finished fairly early. I also read some assignments from my one "small" class (7 people) and thought, "Oh, I have time to work on my paper/someone else's thesis project/knitting/reading." But, then I did the wrong thing. I checked my email and discovered a frantic message from a friend asking me to edit/read her essay that is due Monday.

So, two hours later, I still had time to work on a few other projects, but I didn't get to them as early as I thought I would. I stayed up until nearly 3am this morning, squeezing in a few of the things I wanted to do--work on the one remaining sock of a pair, read some Jane Austen, work on my new online class I want to teach in the fall. I lost track of time, yes. And I woke up, initially, this morning at 7am and forced myself to go back to sleep. I got up around 9:30am and immediately began working. I need to stop this!

In the children's book series, A Series of Unfortunate Events, one of the characters, Violet, says that time is the one thing we can't invent more of. She is so right. So I guess what I'm trying to do is fill up the time as much as possible with everything I need/want to do. You know, "make the most of time."

Today, I've already graded Wikis, conducted an online chat, and mopped both the kitchen and the bathroom (long overdue!). Now, I'm going to take a bit of time to work on one of my projects--writing a paper--and then I'll grade a set of essays. I'm drowning in paper, so I need to clean out the stacks and add to the burn/recycle pile. I burn the junk mail, and recycle the rest. But, then again, I may not get to that, which is fine with me. I need to stop working every single minute of the day--smell the roses, you know?

Tomorrow... well, I'll deal with that when I get to it!

A Visit to the Vet's Office

I took Golum in this morning. He had an upper respiratory infection, nothing too serious, according to Dr. Jeff, but Golum did get a shot and some medicine. When I got home with him this afternoon, I let him out of the carrier, and I haven't seen him since. I hope he comes in soon so I can give him his antibiotics.

Dr. Jeff's a good animal doctor. He's funny and compassionate. He's also on call at the sale barn next door to his clinic, and, when they have sales (as they did today), he spends most of his time over there. But I like that he lets his kids hang around and help out with the smaller animals. And he's so country. Today, he was wearing his overalls and high rubber boots!

I'm sure that Golum will recover, but I also know that I can take him back to Dr. Jeff's without breaking the bank--that's the best thing! I can afford to take care of my pets.

Oh, yeah. Boudreaux brought in a bird this morning, but didn't quite know what to do with it. I took the bird back outside, and it flew away (Hooray! Cats: 6 Birds: 1).

Heath Ledger

I'm not one to dwell on Hollywood, but color me shocked! I was checking my email, when I saw the news flash about Heath Ledger. OMG! He was such a great actor. Loved him in The Brothers' Grimm and A Knight's Tale. Besides being georgeous and having a heavenly voice, he radiated intelligence and sanity. I'll be interested in finding out the results of that autopsy (I know that sounds gruesome, but enquiring minds really do want to know).

I'd rather hear more about Brittney Spears than hear this. I need to round up all of his films and watch them in a memorial tribute.

Oh, this is sad.

And my cat is still sick, so we're going to the vet's in the morning. Right now, he's hiding under the bed because I won't let him go outside. He's acting just like a kid.

Now for the Good News...

The cat came back, but he seems to be ill. It's Golum--he was gone for three cold days; I don't know where. I'll probably have to take him to the vet. He might have a cold, but it could be pneumonia. His breathing is labored. What I'm hoping it's NOT is a poisoned rat. These cats never think about what they put in their mouths.

My nephew and his wife found out that the baby they are expecting in June is a girl! And my niece (sister to the aforementioned nephew) is expecting a baby in August. I have a bunch of knitting to do!

And I installed a new shower head all by myself! That may not seem like much to you, but for someone who is repair-impaired, I'm really proud of that. I'm sure most men had to go through that "I wonder if I'm doing this right" phase before they discovered their mechanical aptitudes. But for some women (not all), doing simple repairs is a challenge. I take pride in being successful with these things--mastering the riding lawnmower, assembling a wheel barrow, installing a shower head. Every time I manage to do something like that, I feel that I've grown a bit in my independence. I have five brothers, a son (in Austin), and a father, but getting them to take time from the deer lease, work or the golf course is difficult. They have their own agendas, and, for them, my house seems far away (yeah--one of my brothers lives in Haughton!). So, the more I can do for myself, the better.

Let me see, can I find anything else? I did get to talk to my daughter twice last night and to my mother once. And, after a touch-and-go day with the Internet yesterday, today it seems to be holding steady. All together, not a bad start to the morning! It's so much better to dwell on the positive.

Bad News Comes in Clusters...

I don't get many phone calls. I hear from my kids periodically, and I hear from my mother when she hasn't seen me for a week.

My daughter called me tonight to let me know that my former mother-in-law's brother died. Millie, my fm-i-l, died two Novembers ago; her sister, Virginia, died at least 10 years ago; so, that just leaves Dorothy, my daughter's namesake, as the last surviving Byrd child. Dorothy must be in her 80s, but she looks great and is always on the go. I was sorry to hear about T. J., though; he was such a nice guy, and his wife Virginia is a sweet lady. I'll send her a sympathy card next week. I don't know that she'll actually remember me without a prompt.

I had a couple of beep-ins while I was on the phone with my daughter, and I figured they were telemarketers (I get a fair number of those--thank God for caller ID!), or my mother was desperate to talk to me. I called Mom. Yes, she was trying to talk to me and couldn't imagine who I was talking to (yeah, I get soooooo many calls, Mom!).

So, here's the rest of the bad news: my youngest brother, James, who has MS, is in the hospital with pneumonia. He had a 106 degree fever, so his wife called the ambulance. The doctors are having trouble getting his fever down, but that's not surprising in someone with MS. His immune system is weak.

And one of my sisters is separating from her second husband. I think she was ambivalent about getting married again, anyway, so I always wondered why she did it. Oh, well.

And one of my cats is missing. He was sleeping under the bed Thursday morning, but hadn't acted as though he was sick. I have no idea where he is. I've whistled, I've called, I've searched. I'm hoping he just found a friend and is hanging out (he's neutered, so it's not romantic).

Too much bad news for one night. I think I have a little bit of vodka left in the freezer (hey, I got it as a birthday present two years ago--how's that for restraint?). I need a screwdriver.

What the Cat Dragged in...

This time, the mouse was dead. And it wasn't Golum who rolled it around on the carpet; it was Bubba, a normally staid, mostly remote cat. He doesn't "talk" much, he does like to be held and scratched, but he won't sit on my lap. He surprised me.

In order to get the mouse out, I had to roll it through the kitchen with a stick (Are you kidding? I'm not going to touch it!). I had to close the kitchen door until all traces of the critter disappeared. I don't know if the cat ate his prize. All I know is it's not in my house anymore.

I understand that cats are hunters. I just wish they wouldn't bring in everything they catch or kill (including live chickens).

Oh, and the possum came back. I thought I heard voices outside last night, and I went to the back door to see if they were coming from my neighbor's yard. She's been burning leaves and whatever else for two days--the haze of woodsmoke hangs in the air. I went to open the back storm door, and the possum and I both jumped. I think I was the one who screamed. It went under the house. So I'm having to put the boards back in the door to keep it from coming into the house. Who would have thought that "country" living could be so perilous?

The Chicken in the Dining Room

Anyone who knows me knows that I really want a flock of chickens--well, "flock" may be an ambitious way of describing it. I want five chickens, all female, and I plan to name them after the Bennett sisters in Pride and Prejudice. But I'm not quite ready yet. I need to build a chicken coop first.

Yesterday, I was working around the house and trying to get my courses up and running on Moodle, since school begins in a week. I kept hearing a "cheep cheep." And, as frequent readers of this blog know, my cats are famous for bringing in birds in various stages of life, so I figured I had another live bird flying around. I checked the laundry room; I checked the kitchen, dining room and living room. Nothing. I was in and out of the kitchen and dining room, stowing away the Christmas tins and platters. I didn't hear anything for a while, so I hoped the bird had flown.

Later, I was working at my computer when I heard the "cheep cheep" again. I stood in the walkway between the kitchen and the dining room and heard it again to my left. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled around the dining room table. I found what I was looking for under a rocking chair in the corner.

A chicken--blondish, about 5 inches long--ran into the corner. As I reached to grab it, it took off into my study. I shut the study door and went to the garage to get a cat carrier. I figured that would be a good place to stow a chicken overnight and keep it safe from the cats. I got some bird seed (that's the closest I could come to chicken feed in a pinch), some water, and a kitchen towel, stowed all of that in the carrier, and then spent the better part of an hour trying to catch the chicken. I finally managed to herd it into the carrier where it spent the night.

That chicken was in my house all day, and the cats didn't lay a tooth on it. I can't figure that out, unless it just seemed to big for them to tackle. But if that was the case, how did it get here in the first place?

Darn! I should have taken a picture to show here. But, that's hindsight. I took it back across the ditch this morning. I should have kept it because it's owners didn't seem to care. They acted as though it was more of a nuisance that I brought it back.

So, lesson learned! I better get that chicken coop built in case my cats rustle any more chickens. As my mom says, "If it shows up again, it belongs to you."

Here's How the New Year Starts...

...not with a bang, but a whimper (sorry, T. S. Eliot).

Happy New Year, ya'll! Hope it's good for you.

I had a great Christmas, with overlapping visits from my children and their significants. Dot and her guy, Pete, showed up the Saturday before Christmas and stayed until about 3pm Christmas Day; Dan and Carly, his lady, showed up around noon on Christmas and stayed until the Thursday after. So I had company for about a week.

Dot and Pete did a great deal of yard work. They built a firepit in place of my burnpile. Here's a picture of the firepit with a fire:

They cut up the limb that fell a couple of months ago, so we had plenty of firewood to burn. We roasted marshmallows and made smores, something I haven't done since Girl Scout Camp!

Behind the firepit in the picture you can see my old shed. We cleaned that out. I can't list everything we found in there, but a partial list of contents includes old mason jars, a half-full bottle of whiskey (we dumped it out), and assorted tools (a circular saw, a hand planer, a hand lathe, a grease gun), plus enough flammable liquids to worry me. So, all I have to do to turn this into a chicken coop is rebuild the roof and put in a new floor. And Pete reinforced the open part of the shed so that the roof isn't sagging anymore.

Dan and Carly and I couldn't really get out in the yard because it rained all day Wednesday. But we read and knitted and watched movies; then they made two excellent pizzas and we played two games of Scrabble.

I think their visits were the highlights of Christmas for me. We had fun at my mom's and ate too much good food, but I enjoyed my time with my children. They've only been to my house once since I bought it, but I've been to their house in Austin many, many times. So, they owe me a few more visits!

The new year started ominously--the bathroom shower started dripping and I couldn't get the garage door down with the remote (I used the rake handle). But, on an optimistic note, Bluebirds have moved into the birdhouse on my front porch! I watched them move in today.

I hope the Bluebird of Happiness, Prosperity and Peace lands on your porch, too!