Mow, Mow, Mow the Grass

Despite the fact that we have just finished spring break, I must admit that it has not felt much like spring to me. Last week I was still wearing my heavy coat to soccer games. Everyone knows that the temperature in the stadium is always 20 degrees colder then it is any place else. But today, it felt like spring. In truth, this feeling did not have much to do with the weather. It was cool and misty, what some would call a dreary day. I taught until noon and then came home to mow the grass. The first mowing of the year makes it spring!

We have not had much rain though there has been enough to make the grass (pasture weeds?) grow. Mowing the grass in the country is a whole different thing than when we lived in town. First of all, it is four acres, three of which are not graded. And, no push mower for me, it is tractor time! If I could drive the thrill probably would not be so great but I can't, so it is.

As I start my trek around the yard, I begin to see the real signs of spring - a few wild flowers almost here, the early mesquite trees, the singing birds, all covered by a gentle spring mist. It was perfect.

I don't know why going around in circles on the lawn mower is such a cathartic activity and going in circles in the car, which is the theme song of my life, is so tiring. Granted, there is not a great deal of lawn mower traffic in the yard, but there are obstacles and perils here. For example, the branches on the trees seem to have grown - lower. Nothing that a little ducking can't fix. Remember the sprinkler heads for the septic system - I know they are out here somewhere. And then there is the array of dog toys that are scattered about. Adidas is on the deck thinking, "If you run over my Frisbee, I promise you that I will decorate with the kitchen trash." I also removed the ladder from the tree where Spencer had his adventure.

Being outside made me thankful for my surroundings. I love it out here in the country. The best part, no code enforcement to tell me that I have to mow; I can do it when I want to.

While I was riding around, I kept thinking of outdoor projects - the front beds need to be cleaned and planted, the (a) vegetable garden needs to be started, the trees need to be trimmed (I will have to hire someone to do this because I am not allowed to have my own pair of Alligator Jaws), other places in need of flowers called out to me - the possibilities are endless. So is the work, but that is OK.

It is still raining. This is a good thing. The stock pond across the fence needs water. I am glad for the rain water because Adidas likes to swim in this pond and it (he) has been smelling a bit undesirable. I would be more excited about the rain if I had already planted my gardens. Oh well . . .at least the ground will be soft when I get ready to dig.

I did haul the wet grass clippings to the compost bin. It too is in need of the moisture. If this is spring, I wish it would stay for a long while. I know that the hot summer sun will be here soon enough. But now, I am enjoying the smell of the fresh cut grass dressed with the warm spring rain. Spring is definitely in the air! Amen.

A Weekly Wrap Up

Today marks the conclusion of spring break. I must say that I have gotten used to the casual pace of the past two weeks. Today we did a little shopping here in Denton. We went to several local shops that we had not been to before. Denton is a funky little town whose charm is not always immediately evident. It does however have some awesome hometown restaurants, some unique little gift shops, and a whole lot of nice people. Not only did we discover some new shopping spots, but we did it on foot which offered a really up close and personal experience of the square and downtown. I am guilty of overlooking that which is right in front of me. Our walk this afternoon in the calming mist was an unexpected gift.

SPENCER THE CAT

It has been a week since he had his tail amputated. Initially I was trying ti keep him in my bedroom so that the other animals did not annoy him. He did not like being sequestered at all. He thought that he was feeling fine and that he should go on with life as usual. So he did. He seems to have no ill effects from his surgery. He is running, jumping and acting very catly. I am most pleased about the fact that he does not seem to be scared of our dogs. They are certainly capable of annoying him but, he shows no fear. His tail is still bandaged (one more week). He likes to beat his stump against every one's legs. I assume that it must not be causing him any pain.

HARLEY

Harley is doing well. She loves her big brother Adidas. They work as quite a team for both good and ill. One of Adidas' attention getting stunts is to steal things off the bathroom counter while I am getting dressed in the morning. I have to chase him to the kitchen and offer him a dog cookie in order to get him to drop the stolen goods. The cookie trick still works with him but now when he drops the item, Harley picks it up and runs with it. I can't use the "Harley, want a cookie?" routine because she prefers to eat the crumbs from Adidas' cookies. I am outnumbered . . .and screwed.

BOOKS

I have not read anything that I had hoped to read during the break. The only consolation is that I did get a good deal of knitting finished. I have not taken pictures yet.

THE MYSTERY PROJECT
Here is the status of the project right now.

Erin took the picture for me. She asked what it was and I told her that it is a surprise. She allowed as how it looks like the front of a thong. I will admit that the Muse has been a little crazy lately, but a thong? I think I would be looking for a new muse if I thought knitting (or wearing) a thong was a good idea. And, it is not easily seen in this picture, but there is an intentional hole at the bottom of the triangle. Wouldn't this been an interesting design feature if this indeed was a thong. Honestly, it is not!

So now I will stop writing and knit some more. Hopefully I will not have to drag the secret out too long.

Because I Can

When I ask my kids why they are doing something that appears to me to be a little strange, (ketchup on salad, running around in a sports bra and sweats, watching senseless violence on TV in the middle of the night) Their response is often, "Because I can." This could be interpreted as a smart-mouthed response from a teenager; or, it can be taken at face value and mean exactly what they said - because I can.

"Because I can", when taken literally, elicits a sense of self confidence, which is not necessarily a bad thing. If only as adults we could hold on to that youthful belief that anything is possible.

Yesterday I found myself resorting to this very logic. I spent the afternoon at the knit shop working on a project for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting. No knitter can pass up the opportunity to take a survey of what others around the table are making. When the question came to me I responded with, "a knitted Frisbee." (I know that Frisbee is a trademarked name. It's knitted incarnation will be renamed before the pattern is published. But admit it, you all know what I am talking about. "Flying disc" would have required a little more processing time." After the looks that we all know translate to why the hell would you do that!, someone asked simply, "Why?" The logical answer was that the pattern is to be included in the next issue of the newsletter. What I said was, "because I can."

In reality, I could knit something that LOOKED like a Frisbee, but the truth is that I had no idea whether or not it would FLY like a Frisbee. And, I would not know until it was completely done. I guess in addition to my prevailing philosophy of because I can, there was also a healthy dose of Elizabeth Zimmermann's advice to "knit on with confidence through all crises." In my case it was only potential crisis - the Frisbee would not fly and I would have to come up with another idea for the upcoming (very soon!) Spirit of Knitting.

I reached the center, pulled the yarn through the last few stitches, and wove in my ends. Now, the moment of truth - the test flight. The shop was quiet so no one would be hurt if my potential Flying machine crashed and burned in the middle of the floor. My daughter stood at one end of the store and I at another; I positioned my wrist just right (this is the key to successful Frisbee launching), said a little prayer, and released the disc of knitted cotton cord. It flew! Deep down I believed that it would but it is always nice when the tests prove your hypothesis.

What would have happened if flight had eluded me? I would have learned that cotton cord Frisbees don't fly; I would have asked myself a bunch of "what else might work" type questions and learned something; I would have had one of those paper plate holders that keeps your hamburger from bending the plate into a yoga position. All of these would have been somewhat beneficial, albeit not the desired, outcomes.

Amidst my heightened state of confidence, I decided to take on another design project. This one came to me last night around midnight. I got out my paper and jotted a few notes, went to the stash to find some yarn that might work, and set about making my swatch.

Here is the yarn - a couple of skeins of Wildflower DK Fancy (43% cotton, 53% acrylic, 4% nylon) and a skein of regular Wildflower DK (51% cotton, 49% acrylic).





How do they determine those percentages? Those of you who know me well will not be surprised at the overwhelming orangeness of my yarn choice.

For now, the new project will remain a mystery. Stay tuned for updates as I knit on just BECAUSE I CAN. Or, maybe the better statement is because I BELIEVE I can.

Spring Break

In Texas, March is the month for spring break. The most common question asked during the weeks that precede the break is, "Where are you going for spring break?" I was under the impression that "spring break" implied a break from the busy-ness of the rest of the school year. The thought of having to get organized enough to go someplace - do the laundry that has mounded up in order to pack something to take, board the animals, find someone to watch the house and water the plants, stop the mail, stop the newspaper, find all the necessary supplies to take for my intended knitting projects - seems like too much work! I need the break from having to have everything under control.

Travelling for us was a moot point this year anyway. I was on break last week and the kids are on break this week. So, what are we doing for spring break? Last week while I was off I did do quite a bit of knitting. Truth to tell, I am not sure I did a whole lot that was productive other than the closet excavation. Ah! A real break.

This week, the girls are supposed to be cleaning their rooms. This is happening in very small fragments of time between sleeping, eating, watching TV and playing games on the computer. All of these things, with the possible exception of eating, are neglected during the regular school routine. SO this is a real break for them as well.

I did ask the girls if there was anything in particular that they wanted to do this week. They both want haircuts, Erin wants to go to the thrift stores and Brooke wanted an all expense payed trip to Central Market. All of this is doable. I am glad my kids are easy to please.

We went to Central Market yesterday. Brooke loves to go grocery shopping. ( I know, strange for a teenager.) More importantly, she loves to cook. Brooke has fixed dinner the past two nights - last night was white bean and roasted garlic soup and spinach salad and tonight, ratatouille and couscous. Two healthy meals that I did not have to prepare. Tonight I made the unhealthy dessert, Mexican chocolate pound cake. Brooke is a much more adventurous cook than I am. She will try almost anything - as long as it is vegan. It takes longer to prepare vegan meals because of all that is required to cook with vegetables - washing, peeling, chopping, etc. - but in the long run it is worth the effort. So, for a few more days we will have good food. I think Erin, our rabid carnivore, will be ready for the "normal" fare that is served during the regular school routine.

The haircuts and the thrift store visit will wait until the end of the week.

The older I get, the more I realize how important it is to not have plans for every moment of everyday. Spontaneity is a lot of fun. But with a life run by Daytimers there is no room for it. I find myself asking, "How can I take this feeling of truly being on break and incorporate even a little piece of it into my regular weekly routine? I am not sure what the answer is but the question deserves a little pondering. I suppose not sending Brooke to college next year and keeping her home as my personal chef is not an option. I'll keep working on it.

Happy spring and happy break to all.

Taste And See That The Food Is Bad!

By now every one has heard about the massive recall of dog and cat foods. I am thrilled that the media has done such a good job of continually updating the information and making available on their websites the list of recalled brands. However, I was greatly disturbed by tonight's report on the 10 o'clock news (probably NBC but I am not sure). They reported that the manufacturer had tested the suspect product on 50 dogs and cats and that seven of the animals had died and they expected more as the testing process continues. Why was it necessary to feed the food to more animals?

Consumers had been reporting concerns to the food manufacturer since February 20th. At that time, the manufacturer had received ingredients from a new supplier. From the end of February into early March, Menu Foods, a Canada-based company, had been notifued of the deaths of 10 animals who had eaten their food. They were quick to take notice; for that I am thankful.

I am furious, however, that in the testing process dogs and cats were intentionally fed the food. There seems to have been no question that there was a problem. The problem had bee traced to wet varieties of food, and possibly to a specific ingredient. Why then risk the lives of more animals? This is criminal.

During the peanut butter scare a few months ago mothers across the country did not invite all the neighborhood kids in for a nice PB&J "to see what happens". And, there was not a call for all those whose fantasy it was to be Popeye to come feast on all the spinach they could eat during the in the name of science during the recall of the contaminated greens.

Why is okay to test on animals? It seems to me between the animals who had already lost their lives and the ones who were eating the suspect food unknowinly, there were enough case studies out there that it was not necessary to create new subjects. I realize absolute control is important so that the studies are not flawed but to intentionally jeopardize the lives of dogs and cats seems like a last desparate step, not a first.

I will freely admit that I am not a scientist and therefore am speaking from my heart and not my head. Sometimes that is where the thoughts are formed best.

Below are some recipes for natural dog and cat foods that appeared in the June/July 2006 issue of Mother Earth News. I will admit that in the next issue of the magazine a reader wrote in saying that these recipes did not provide balanced nutrition for dogs and cats. They do sound good and for a little while, until the current pet food scare is over, I don't think that any dogs or cats will complain or starve.

DOG FOOD
2 Cups cooked oatmeal or Cream of Wheat
2 Cups cooked ground beef
2 Tbsp plain yogurt
1 small apple cut or sliced into small pieces

CAT FOOD
2 Cups cooked chicken
1/4 Cup grated carrots
1 Cup brown rice, cooked

Again, I am not a scientist but at least if you make your pets food, you will know what is in it.

I have always felt a little "cheap" because our two dogs and three cats eat nothing but dry food. In the current situation, I am thanksful for this.

Prodigal Son, Spoiled Brat?

I hate the Gospel reading for today - the story of the Prodigal Son - though it is not referred to this way in the Bible. There it is the story of the lost son. In case you don't know, the story goes like this:

. . . a man has two sons. The younger demands his share of his inheritance while his father is still living, and goes off to a distant country where he "wasted his substance with riotous living", and eventually has to take work as a Swineherd. There he comes to his senses, and determines to return home and throw himself on his father's mercy. But when he returns home, his father greets him with open arms, and hardly gives him a chance to express his repentance; he kills a "fatted calf" to celebrate his return. The older brother becomes angry, apparently jealous at the favored treatment of his faithless brother and upset at the lack of reward for his own faithfulness. But the father responds:

Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found. (Luke 15:32, KJV)

So what is it about this story that I despise so much? I have always believed that if you work hard you will get your due. And, conversely, if you don't, you won't. This story bursts that bubble. Not only are the son's not treated equally, the less faithful one is treated better. To me, this scenario is antithetical to all that I want to believe. If he who is less faithful does as well, or better, why even try?

In trying to figure this out, I decided that maybe the best way to understand was to place myself in the shoes of each of the three characters - the father, the "good son", and the "bad" son.

ME AS THE FATHER: From a parental perspective, I hope that I love my children equally. But equally does not mean that they each receive the same things. To me equality means that their individual needs are satisfied equally. If one needs shoes and the other needs a jacket then that is what they should receive. So in the case if the sons in Luke, what does each of the sons need? The bad one needs forgiveness. The good one needs . . .? Maybe to be recognized for his faithfulness. But then, his father did say that all was his all the time.

ME AS THE GOOD SON: At the risk of sounding egotistical, it is easiest for me to relate to this character. Not because I believe that I am perfect, but because my faithfulness does not waiver. I believe that I should work hard and love the Lord: that is what I do.

ME AS THE BAD SON: In theory, I have no problem with this character. My faith tells me that all who come to the Lord and ask for forgiveness will be given forgiveness. So, why don't I like this guy? Maybe it is because I don't like to think of myself in his shoes. Who wants to see them self as a miserable failure begging to be taken back. The sad reality is that we all have reason to do so nearly every day. Perhaps our personal situation is not quite as dire, but we each have cause to ask forgiveness each day of our lives. And even harder than asking for it, is accepting it.
Why? Because it is hard to accept something that you are not sure that you could give if the shoe were on the other foot. I find it much easier to take the stand of the "good" son - why are we throwing a party for this smuck?

So, the father is forgiving but clueless to the feelings of the good son, the good son is faithful but bitter, and the bad son is lucky but a loser. Who do I want to be? I find myself wanting to say the father, "Let's try some tough love.", to the bad son, "Okay dude, get real!", and to the good son, "Screw them both. Get a life of your own." Based on these observations, it looks like I have further reflection to do on this story!

I know, I have missed the point. As I come crawling back, I ask for forgiveness.

That (Not So) Still Small Voice

I am a firm believer that listening is the greatest gift that we can give ourselves as well as others. We must learn to listen to that still small voice that often chatters below the frequency of our everyday world.. What is "that" small voice? This is a tough question because the voice seems to be constantly changing. Or, maybe the voice doesn't change but we are asked to hear it differently. Whichever the case, I am grateful that I am learning to listen.

Thursday evening I was taking the dogs out before bedtime. It was nearly midnight. We live in the country so the night time sounds are often a bit enchanting - coyotes howling, pasture grass rustling, an occasional dog barking. I love to sit on the deck and just listen to the night. I must admit that on Thursday night I was tired. The day had been going on for 18 hours already. It was definitely time for bed.

As I waited for the dogs, I was aware of the usual night time symphony but there was something different. I heard what sounded like a cat meowing. This is not one of the normal sounds. I had my husband come listen. He said it was the wind turbine on the house next door. I was fairly certain that the sound I heard was not that though it did come and go with the regularity of a whirling turbine. Convinced that what I was hearing was indeed a cat, I came into the house to make sure that all three of our cats were present and accounted for. As I called their names, Cambridge and Blair came running - probably in the hope that treats were to be distributed. Spencer, who always comes when called, did not appear. With flashlight in hand I headed outside to follow in the direction of the small voice I heard.

I was lead to the front of our four acre lot. As the meowing grew louder, I realized that it was above my head. There was Spencer about 10 feet up in a Mesquite tree and he was not coming down. He is an inside cat who never goes outside. For some reason he must have followed the dogs out earlier in the day without being noticed.

So here is the scenario. It is midnight in the country, pitch black, and the clawless cat is 10-12 feet up in a Mesquite tree. Think about those thorns! And, a stray dog, who is probably the reason the cat is in the tree, is lurking below. My daughter came to take the dog away and hold on to him during the rescue operation. Mike went for the ladder while I stood in the yard talking to the cat like he was my child. After several minutes of trying to stabilize the ladder in a place where we could reach the cat, we carried him down the ladder and back to the house.

He headed straight for the food bowl While he was eating, I noticed that his tail did not look quite right. As I got closer, I realized that the tip was only bone. Something (the stray dog) had stripped his tail. Spencer did not seem to notice. He did not seem to be in any pain as he went about his night time routine.

Friday morning I took him to the vet. He had to have about a third of his tail amputated. More than what was injured was removed to assure that no infection would move into his spinal column. He came home this morning and seems more annoyed by the Elizabethan collar he is wearing so he won't disturb his stitches than he does with his shorter, bandaged tail.

I am so grateful that I took the time to listen to the still small voice that said this is an unusual nighttime sound, the still small voice that said make sure all of your cats are safe, and Spencer's not so still small voice that led me to him in the tree.

Here is Spencer in is collar, which is definitely not his idea of fashion, and his shorter tail.

I am happy to say that he seems fine. He is eating well. He is trying to get the collar off. He did not fight the "pink medicine" as my children used to call it. And, he is happy to sit in my lap and purr!