Getting Rich One Quarter at a Time. I Wish.

The next time I mention that I am planning to hold a yard sale, please, for the love of God, stop me. I forget how hot my hatred for the stupid things burns and, each time, I enter into the endeavor with optimism and blind faith that this time, it will be different. Shame on me; yard sales are a hotbed of frustration and I should learn my lesson and move on.

Although, we did get rid of a bunch of crap and I did manage to rake in a little over three hundred dollars. Granted, it’s all in quarters but hey, three hundred bucks is three hundred bucks. Now, if I had gotten a quarter for each time I had to explain that, no, I wasn’t willing to lower the price on the almost-brand-new-insert-item-here that my daughter/son only wore once, and, by the way, fifty cents for said item is a steal you crazy, bargain-hunting bastards; I would have earned double that and then some.

Gah.

Never again, mark my words.

Never.

Again.

It’s a Major Award!

The Man-Cub was nominated to play for the All-Star baseball team which is quite the honor. So, I suppose it is wrong that the first thing I thought when I heard the news was “Oh, crap”.

More baseball. Another entire season of baseball. Crap. Crap. Crap.

Still, I’m proud of my boy. Honestly, I am.

Hugh is proud of him as well and, since he doesn’t have to act as head coach for the All Star team, he might get to enjoy the season with less pressure. Unless, of course, I somehow manage to bamboozle him into keeping score in which case; the pressure is back on him, leaving me free to enjoy the season, myself.

Note to Self: Must Work on Bamboozling skills, ASAP.

Nothing In This Post is Remotely Related, Therefore, Segues Between Topics Will Be Random and Haphazardous; Continue At Your Own Risk.

The boys lost their first tournament game Monday night, thus ending their baseball season. The loss led to much disgruntlement on the part of the boys and their coach and to secret high-fives and back-slapping among their mothers. In defense of the mothers, myself included, it had been a loooong season.

Last night, Hugh, the kids and I were invited to an open house at the new Subway restaurant that some friends of ours are opening in town; it is the first franchise of any type to open in our little community and, as such, has caused quite a bit of controversy (We’re selling out! The small-town ambiance will be ruined! We need new businesses in town if the town is to survive in this economy! Subway is delicious! You get the picture) but, last night, the townspeople put on their Sunday finest and congratulated the new entrepreneurs who, I’m sure, will do well with the business.

In today’s Farmers Report; I cut my first batch of lettuce from the garden. I also have three tiny bell peppers on the pepper plants as well as numerous small green tomatoes on the tomato plants (obviously, like, duh, Chelle). The peas that I planted lo these many weeks ago finally decided to sprout and I am feeling less Doomsday about the whole gardening experience. On the other hand, we are down to a handful of Ladybugs so, maybe they know something I don’t and garden Armageddon is just around the corner, who knows?

On the work front, I should mention that Oscar and Emily are due to arrive back in town late this evening. I’m not certain that Emily will come into the store tomorrow to grade my record of management while she was away but, if she does, I am Relatively Confident that she won’t find anything too terribly, dismayingly wrong. Relatively Confident, in this case, being, 89.999%.

Friday I am taking the day off so that I may sell my worldly possessions to strangers on the street AKA: Have a Yard Sale. In preparation of the tortuous event; I will be pulling fifty black Hefty bags down from the attic this evening. I will also be pawing through the contents of numerous boxes, totes, containers, etc. I am Relatively Confident that I will accomplish this task before the Early Birds hit my lawn at dawn on Friday. Relatively Confident, in this case, being 42.4444%. Also, the joy I am feeling at the prospect of attacking the chore is indescribable.

Speaking of joyful occasions, Hugh and I were invited to a wedding later this summer. The bride formerly worked for one of Hugh’s top suppliers and isn’t really someone that we socialize with or really even know all that well so, when the invitation arrived I was like "Who? Oh! Her, yes, I vaguely recall meeting her,...once".

The invitation included information on where the “lovebirds” (gag) are registered (Target, in case you are interested in buying them a gift. Oh! And, please don’t forget to give the “lovebirds” a gift receipt, you know, in case they get duplicates of something!) as well as instructions to please bring a covered dish to the reception.

Am I wrong in finding this a bit, well, tacky? Is this the In thing these days? Potluck receptions? Really? I guess, if it were me, I would use the money that they are spending on their tropical honeymoon to, oh, I don’t know, feed their guests. But, that’s just me; feel free to comment if you think I am wrong.

Oh, and no, we aren’t actually attending the wedding; the Man-Cub has Boy Scout camp that week so my mad skilz with covered dish fare will be needed elsewhere. Plus, the Scouts promised Smores; Smores trump potluck wedding receptions any day.

Social Services Would NOT Approve

Friday morning, Hugh and I took a little trip to the gravel yard to pick out stone edging for the flowerbed that he has been promising me for; oh I don’t know, the past three years? That sounds about right. Anyway, we picked out a very nice stone and, on Saturday, Hugh set about creating my bed.

Having an uncanny knack for knowing when hard work will be required of her; The Girl conveniently arranged to be at Kaz’s house for the majority of the weekend so, it fell upon the Man-Cub to help his father with the herculean feat of not only unloading the pallet of bricks from the truck but in carting them across the yard for later placement.

Once the path of the bed was clearly marked; the boys took off for part unknown or, in this case, to the mulch dealer (I know but, what would you call him? The landscape materials supplier guy? Yeah, that flows off the tip of the tongue so much easier), where Hugh purchased a truck bed full of soft mulch which he and the Cub then proceeded to use to fill in the flowerbed as well as underneath the kids' trampoline.

The Cub was an amazing help throughout the day, never complaining which, when one considers the heat- ninety-eight in the shade-is no small feat. As a reward, we took him out to dinner and then let him stay up as late as he wanted which, after the heat, eight hours of hard manual labor and a stomach stuffed with not only an entire bean burrito plate but a trip to the salad bar; ended up being roughly nine o’clock which is about an hour earlier than his usual summer bedtime.

His exhaustion was worth it; my flower beds are lovely (I know, I know! Selfish much?). I planted seven rosebushes in a variety of colors including a bush called the Disneyland Rose which features blooms in two different colors, pink and orange, on the same plant, how does Mother Nature do it? Anyway, it’s awesome and we are thismuch closer to having an actual back yard; the sprinkler system is scheduled to start going in this weekend and we are hoping to have sod down by the weekend after the Fourth of July which, factoring in Hugh Time, means we should be walking on a velvety carpet of grass by this time in the year 2025.

Can’t wait!

Sunday evening, we joined Jana and company at their place for a belated birthday BBQ for Jana. Her husband, Chris, and I had been trying to surprise her with a family portrait session since before her actual birthday which was last week but, due to them having a schedule almost as wacky as ours, never quite got it done.

Last night, however, we got it done and then some. I think Jana was happy with the end results and we had a really great time doing it.

Also, BBQ, yum.

This week promises to be busy; the Man-Cub’s baseball tournament starts tonight and could go all week. Of course, since it is a single elimination tournament and our season record ended up at 6 wins, 10 losses; it could be over for us as early as tonight. Not that I’m hoping for that, mind you but, Hugh does still have a fishing trip to plan and execute and the summer is just hurling by I mean, the Fourth of July is next weekend, the summer is halfway over.

In equally depressing news; I am having a yard sale this weekend.

Kill me. Kill me, now.

How Summer Was Meant To Be

This week has been the fulfillment of everything that I had envisioned when plotting my Idyllic Summer.

At the baseball game on Monday night, one of our kids got his first hit of the season. This particular child had not even attempted to swing at a ball since the second game of the season when he was hit in the side of the head by the pitcher. Instead, he would step out of the batter’s box and let each pitch go by whether it was a good pitch or not.

Hugh tried everything in his coaching arsenal and nothing would convince the kid to take a swing; he was simply too terrified of being hit by the ball again. Finally, a few weeks ago and in total desperation, Hugh promised to take the whole team fishing if the kid would just swing, he didn’t have to hit, he just had to stay in the box and swing. The rest of the boys like to fish and the prospect of a fishing trip with Coach was enough to turn them into the loudest most encouraging cheering section you ever heard which, I think the kid in question really needed.

When he hit the ball on his second swing on Monday night, the cheering was deafening. Hugh was jumping up and down, the kid’s father was jumping up and down, the entire dugout was jumping up and down and the opposing team was looking at us all like “Folks, it’s just a base hit, damn.” We didn’t care; it was a Hallmark movie moment.

Of course, once the kid was on first base and the rest of the team was gloating over the promised fishing trip, Hugh upped the ante; get the kid all the way home and he would take everyone out for hamburgers after the fishing. The team looked at him like “Done” and, it was, they brought the kid home and, for the first time in his nine years, that kid scored a run.

Hugh marked the date and the accomplishment on the game ball and gave it to the kid and you never saw anyone so proud of a tattered ball in all your life, I assure you. There wasn't a dry eye in the grandstands. Except for the other team, of course, la-hooosers.

Anyhoodle, Tuesday night; Jana and I saw SATC, as I mentioned in an earlier post and, Wednesday night we played our last baseball game of the regular season. We got smoked but we didn’t care, or at least, I didn’t care as my stat-keeping duties were finally over (except for the possibility that I will have to reprise my role as statistician at the up-coming tournament but, I’m not thinking about that , al, la,la, I can’t hear youuu).

Jana and her son joined us at the game and, afterwards, we ate dinner and sat in the rockers on the porch long into the night, drinking wine and watching the kids ride their bikes up and down the hill in front of my house. At one point a group of neighborhood kids rode by, helmetless and carefree and I told Jana “that is how I spent my childhood summers; no helmets, no paranoid parents charting my every move, wondering and worrying when I wasn’t home after dark. I mean; they knew where I was and who I was with, we lived in a small town, everyone knew everyone”. Jana concurred and, feeling slightly nostalgic (and, a little bit buzzed by the Shiraz), we allowed the kids to ditch their own helmets.

Right up until the moment the Man-Cub came sailing down the hill, one foot on the seat of his bicycle, the other leg stretched out behind him, hands on the handlebars and screaming “look at me, Mom! Look what I can do!”

After my heart started beating again; the helmets went back on (I was buzzed, not stupid).

After Jana and company left, I tucked the kids in and asked the Cub if he had remembered to put the tooth that he had lost that day under his pillow. Not only had he remembered; he had written a fairly lengthy letter to the Tooth Fairy to go with it. In the letter he asked for a picture of her as well as for her phone number so, either he is starting to have his doubts about her existence or he wants to ask her out on a date.

Not quite sure which scenario disturbs me the most, there.

Finally, last night Jana, the kids and I went to watch Hugh and Jana’s husband at their Thursday night softball game. They won the game by about twenty runs and were having a great time doing it. After the game, we once again retired to the porch for crusty bread, wine and cheese while the kids played the Wii and the husbands relived every moment of their athletic triumph. It was a nice way to end the day.

And a really great way to spend the majority of our week. So, I’m wondering; how could the weekend be any better?

Stay tuned.

Doing It For the Ladies

I finally saw Sex and the City last night. Jana and I left the kids in the capable hands of our husbands (who encouraged us to see the movie, you know, without them) and hit the grocery store to stock up on essentials for our Bag of Covert Movie Candy….BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, TANGENT ALERT….

Yes, movie theater owners; I know concessions are how you make your profits but, in case you haven’t heard, we are in a recession and I cannot, in good conscious, pay three times as much money for a box of Milk Duds in your theater than I would at the super market, so sorry….END of TANGENT

The movie was quite enjoyable even though it left me missing my Girlfriends, terribly. If you’ve not already seen the movie, you might want to turn away now as I am about to elaborate on the details that make the Carrie/Miranda/Samantha/Charlotte friendship believable and, well, awesome. So, if you haven’t seen it because, like me, you are always late to the party, but! are still planning to see it at some point in the future, you can consider yourself warned.

Awesome moment #1: When Charlotte has The Accident in her pants, finally giving Carrie something to laugh about. I mean really, if you are going to shit your pants in Mexico, you really do want to be with friends who won’t run screaming from the very sight of you. As an aside, this also applies when peeing in a corner of a Mexican hotel room while in a massively intoxicated sleep-walking state. Um, I’ve heard.

Awesome moment #2: When Samantha announces that all four girls are going to Mexico on Carrie’s honeymoon and Miranda objects because she has a job yet; in the very next scene, she is touching down in Mexico. Because, when it comes to a Girlfriend in pain, job-schmob; it’s what you do.

Awesome moment #3: In Mexico, when Samantha hand-feeds Carrie her breakfast yogurt because she is too despondent to do it herself and, she does it without even thinking because, when it comes to your girlfriends, you have their backs, whatever the situation. It's true; every woman in the theater nodded her head and went "Oh, yeah, been there, done that" (FYI, having a girlfriend's back includes holding her hair back while she pukes her guts out following an ill-advised rendezvous with a tequila bottle, picking up random articles of her clothing as she sheds them during a house party because OH MY GOD IS IT HOT IN HERE?! CLOTHING IS THE DEVIL!, cock-blocking inappropriate suitors when she is, shall we say, momentarily incapable of removing the Beer Goggles herself, telling her bedtime stories for as long as it takes for her to get past the bed spins so that she may fall asleep and screening her calls the day after an inapropriate suitor slips through the Beer Goggle Security System. Every one of you women reading this just went "oh, girl! Been there, done that! I see you nodding).

Awesome moment #4: After Carrie flees the church, beats the shit out of Big with her wedding bouquet in the middle of the street and turns to leave and Big tries to follow her to the limo; Charlotte holds out her hand and screams NO! And she like really means NO and it is readily apparent that, given the opportunity, meek little Charlotte would gladly kick Big’s ass even though we all know she hates confrontation; that Mama Bear instinct is a hallmark of a true Girlfriend.

Awesome moment #5: When Carrie walks through the snowy streets of New York City, looking for a cab so that she can make it across the city to Miranda’s apartment in time for Miranda to not be alone as the ball drops on New Year’s Eve.

Awesome moment #6: After Big and Carrie finally get married at City Hall and Big asks Carrie if she wouldn’t have rather had the girls there and Carrie admits that she would have and Big says that he thought so which is why he called them and there they are and oh my god, Big totally GETS it.

Awesome. Of course, as I said earlier, the movie did make me miss my girlfriends horribly. On the other hand, it reminded me how lucky I am to have those girlfriends in my life.

And, you know, to have my own Big who GETS it; as soon as I got home from the theater last night, Hugh asked me when I was planning to visit my Girls since he rather suspected that the movie would throw me into a melancholy funk, the likes of which can only be alleviated by some time with the ladies.

Whenever it does happen, it can’t be soon enough.


Speaking of ladies, Jen at Finland’s Finest asked me to update on the success of Operation Lady Bug Release and I am pleased to report that, as of this morning, we still have about a hundred or so bugs in the garden; I’m thinking that is a pretty good success rate.
And, apparently, even in the insect kingdom, girls stick together.

Please Release Me

Our weekend was as pleasant as any we have had so far this summer. The weather was beautiful, the kids got a chance to slip’n’slide for the first time and, thanks to a festival dedicating a new park in Town Where I Used to Work; they got to climb a rock wall and be doused in a dunk tank, for a good cause, even.

On Sunday, Hugh enjoyed his Father’s Day by grilling flesh on the Barbie and eating an ice cream cake that the children had insisted we buy from Dairy Queen. I resisted the siren call of the ice cream cake for about three seconds before giving in and diving, face first, into the ooey-gooey deliciousness. Aren't you proud of my restraint?

The best part of the day came at dusk, when the kids released 1800 ladybugs into my garden (I am determined to garden without pesticides if at all possible and, after discovering evidence of Bad Bugs-holes! In my leaves!- decided to bust out nature’s little exterminators). The experience was quite cool and both kids are begging to get to do it again sometime. Personally, I'm hoping we won't have to and, since as of nine o’clock this morning, the ladies are still in the garden, enjoying their breakfast; I am somewhat optimistic that they will stick it out for the long haul.

(And, for the handful of lady bugs who attempted to fly away last night, running directly into the Bug-Zapper and frying instantaneously; I'm soooo sorry. We'll take good care of your widows and orphans, I promise.)

Speaking of the long haul; tonight is our last away game for baseball. We have one more home game on Wednesday and then move into the weekend tournament (or so I’m assuming, we have yet to hear any specific details about the alleged tournament; it could be an urban legend, who knows?). I am very much looking forward to the end of the season, as my stat-keeping duties will end with it… freedom!

I am not, however, free from the drudgery of the daily grind and should, therefore, get my butt to the store; the employees seem quite happy to see me on Mondays. Possibly because Monday is payday and I sign the paychecks. Possibly. But, for the sake of my delicate ego, I’m going with; they are just really happy to see me.