exceptionally pleasing

*Carpools--win-win in my book, I'm always game to share the driving and I'm thankful to know other parents feeling the same way.

*Snowmen--we had the perfect snow for building them and people built some really clever ones in their yards--including a cowboy, a quarterback and a loch ness monster.  Every time I see a snowman in a yard, I smile.

*Mr. G ditching his backpack in a snowbank so he can shoot baskets in the driveway every day after school for a half hour.

*Mr. B advancing in the school spelling bee!

*Forty degrees outside!

*Running outside!  In fresh air!  On pavement!

*A productive afternoon revising and rewriting a new project.

Spill it, reader.  What's exceptionally pleasing in your world these days?

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sweet

We can't get enough clementines here at Chez Green Girl.  Right now they're SO sweet.

Last night it was all STANCES at karate class.  My thighs burned, but not in a lusty kind of way.  More in a Sweet Jesus make him STOP MAKING US STANDING IN A FRONT STANCE THE BURNING OH THE BURNING kind of way.  Unfortunately for me and Mr. B, 2nd degree class started Chung Mu, a traditional open hand form that requires--yup, you guessed it--a lot of stances.  Slow, aching, stances and moving from one to the other without changing the height of your head.   If my legs are totally toned by the end of February, there's no excuse.  So, this morning while I watched a bit of TV news and Clay Matthews was being interviewed, I felt achy.  And burning.  Kind of hot.  Might have been residual pain from karate class. 

Seriously--real life THOR plays for the Packers.  I'm a little bummed we can't go to the game tomorrow night.  Mr. G's in a basketball tournament all day and there's NO way we can make it work out logistically so we gave up our tickets.  But we will be home in time to watch it on TV.  And we'll be warmer that we'd be at Lambeau.

I wrapped up an editing job 6 days ahead of schedule.  Two loaves of banana bread are cooling on the kitchen counter.  I started reading Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons last night and she writes like PG Wodehouse which pleases me very much.

Spill it, reader.  What's sweet in your world today?

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hear it?

I really didn't care much for high school, but last night while waiting for Mr. T to finish basketball practice I got a little nostalgic for those days.  There's something hopeful about the steady beat of a basketball on the gym floor, the echo down the hallway, the sharp squeak of shoes.  And that faint aroma of rubber.  I'm not a fan of the NBA, but I smiled last night while I absorbed the smell and sound of basketball in a local gym.

I also like the whirring sound of bike tires and the click of the gears.  Static--that bit of static before a song on vinyl records.  The crack of a ball hitting the sweet spot on a bat.  The slap of a screen door.  Kids giggling.  Water gurgling, pouring, rushing, dropping, splashing, running, crashing.  Birds singing.  The sweeping rush of geese passing overhead in the sky while leaves rustle by my feet.  And I confess to liking the sound of snow crunching beneath my boots.

Spill it, reader.  What sounds do you love?

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a palate-cleansing list of delightful things

The weather was positively glorious and then it rained. I've missed rain. This was a cleansing, drumming down on the rooftops-rinsing the cars-sluicing off the roads and driveways-55 degree RAIN. It sounded good and even smelled kind of nice.

I wrapped up a big writing project and that felt lovely. My desk is bare-nekkid right now and I kind of like it.

Writing-wise I need to pick out which manuscript I'll work on for my summer Screw Iowa Writers Workshop. People keep asking for a sequel to Whipped, Not Beaten, but starting a brand new book is kind of hard. I've got 3 works-in-progress (WIPs, for those of you writer types out there) to choose from. It will be good for my soul to get one of them DONE and sent out.

Mr. B is on a mission to build 25 leprechaun traps by St. Patrick's Day. Long-time readers know our history with that around here. He's declared he wants to get a leprechaun HAT this year.

One of the kids in my Cubbies room Tuesday nights is the cutest little blonde girl who talks with a bit of a lisp. She's so darn adorable. We were talking about sharing and they made puppets and had to act out a skit where the puppets shared something--time, talent, stuff, could be anything. Her puppets shared "ithe cream, lemonade, macaroni and cheethe, and a map." It was the most fathinating list of things to share. She also has three dogs that she talks about "RileyBosthecoeandMulligan." I ask her to repeat the names just to hear her say them again in her piping little voice.

The water heater people are FINALLY finished hanging out at my house. So it was kind of funny to leave my cafeteria shift yesterday and meet them in the parking lot. I totally expected to run into one of them at Target later on that afternoon. It's been quite unproductive, just hanging around waiting for the water heater guys to pop upstairs with a question or to talk to me. I never really know what to do--do I lurk nearby? Go about my normal routine? I cannot function as usual with people in my house, so I've read a lot of online stuff & newspapers, cooked more than usual and got the laundry all caught up. I think it would be kind of weird if they came upstairs and caught me doing yoga in the middle of the living room, don't you? These guys were professional and nice, but I'm glad to be home alone once again.

Smokehouse almonds. I could eat pounds of them.

Spill it, reader. What's delighting you this week?

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low tech fun

Yesterday I finished Louise Penny's Bury Your Dead and now I'm longing to go to Montreal. She's a sublime writer and I'm 70 pages deep into her latest book. If you haven't read her books yet, get cracking because you are missing out.

It's incredibly quiet around here, despite a steady influx of kids coming over. The only battery operated toy Team Testosterone received was a Lazer Tag set that's really not so loud. They're reading, building Legos, occasionally playing the Wii, but I haven't had to bust out my Mom Yell at all. Is this heaven? No, it's NOT having little kids--and man, do I love it.

Mr. D gave me a French oven for Christmas and I'm busy acquiring recipes for stovetop goodness. If you have any suggestions, I'm happy to take them.

I'm musing, at the fringe of my thoughts, on making a list of plans for 2012. I'm also steeped in disappointment that we're NOT living like the Jetsons, with individual jet packs zipping us all over the place. As a child I had such high hopes for 2012. I blame our dependency on fossil fuels for our unimaginative transportation. Though I am glad metallic skintight jumpsuits never caught on.

In other news, Mr. B and Mr. T claim to have seen a baby Ewok in the woods yesterday. A bear? Possibly. I don't think they were kidding because I grilled each of them in isolation and their story checked out... Consequently, they head into the woods more than ever now.

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for grins

Your comments have been so sweet--and I've already received the best feedback on Whipped, Not Beaten--people are LAUGHING. That pleases me to no end! My neighbor gal just sent this to me:

You NAILED a scrapbooking party....they are so obnoxious, and I'm a dedicated scrapbooker! ;) Also, the horrors of the kids at a home party, coupled with the dog, are writing perfection. I've experienced both issues, along with pet fur in the food, and so I was laughing thru the entire chapter. :) I never understand why parents let their kids run like crazy people at a home party like that...it annoys everyone, except, of course, that one strange mom who dotes on little Junior. :)

I'm loving the book! LOVE IT! :) I'm so proud of you!

(However, I'll be mopey at you in the morning....I'm going to spend alot of time into the wee hours reading and be tired all day tomorrow.....but it's all good!)

Since it's been all book-book-book (say that fast and you sound like a chicken) around here, I feel like we should take a breather and look around at the other stuff.

Outside, Jax is currently hauling out the recycling, one piece at a time, to various spots around the yard. Helpful dog.

Team Testosterone had their Christmas concert at school--it went predictably well. Adorable little kids, incredibly resentful bigger boys, self-important bigger girls all sang familiar songs with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Mr. G decided such an Important Event required neckware, so he borrowed a tie from Mr. D:

Funny boy.

We received some steaks in the mail from my folks and Team Testosterone enjoyed An Afternoon with Dry Ice:

Kitchen science.

I've only seen ONE Christmas movie so far--Friday night Team Testosterone and I nestled into my bed and watched Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, which remains one of the worst movies with some of the catchiest tunes. Upon this viewing I noticed the cozy cottage on the Island of Misfit Toys was tricked out with window boxes--with blooming flowers in them.

Tonight Mr. D and I are going to shop for gifts and I have Grand Ambitions of watching a few holiday flicks before the end of the week. Tomorrow is Jen on the Edge's Annual Holiday Home Tour, so I better grab a dust rag and a camera.

Spill it, reader. What's making you grin?

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nooks & crannies

Yesterday Jax and I tooled around the yard, scooping up the rotten pumpkins and jack o' lanterns and piling them in the field. One benefit of waiting until after it gets cold out is that the puddles of pumpkin mush freezes into easy-to-pick-up patties. Pumpkinsicles if you will. So now we have only Christmas greenery and lights decorating Chez Green Girl.

Inside Chez Green Girl is another story. Team Testosterone woke up today wondering where the advent calendars were. I had one hanging and made promises to get in the basement today and dig out other holiday things. And now I feel compelled to collect the gourds and squashes and pumpkins inside the house, too. I like to strip (the shelves, not myself) and dust well before putting out Christmas things. Time to get ready, no more putting it off.

In other news, the Underwear Superheroes have been duking it out in our living room.

Yes, he's wearing underpants on his head. I wouldn't mess with him, either.

Mr. D is test driving a hybrid. I cannot get over how quiet it is.

Last night when we returned home from karate class/baseball clinic, a cat ran out of our garage. A tiger-striped cat with the cutest white paws. My heart leapt with hope and I realized at that moment how much I'd like another cat. Jax either wasn't aware of the cat or didn't mind it, because he just ran up to us, tongue out and happy. Mr. T and Mr. G chased around the corner of the house to try to find the cat, but it was dark and we couldn't call it back. I'm keeping my eyes open, though.

The library is still clean and tidy.

Look--bare corners!

Books in order, each where they belong according to Dewey's classification and alphabetical order.

You bet I'm a bit Type A.

The damn piano is still here. Mr. G brought home a Christmas song (The Christmas Beasts, Old French Melody) he's learning for his school concert. He asked me to teach him how to play the notes, so I wrote the letters on strips of masking tape and stuck them to the keys. Then I labeled the notes with the letters and Mr. G plays the piano in a tuneful way. Makes it tough to unload this albatross when someone's finally learning how to play it.



I love these chairs. My grandma bought them shortly before she died, so they were practically new when I got them. No one else wanted them, this house hadn't been built yet, but I took the chairs because it made me sad to think of them abandoned and they turned out perfect for this spot. The hutch in the background was also hers, she and grandpa bought it on their first anniversary. No one wanted that, either, and my father strong-armed me into taking it. I'm glad I did. This room is mostly full of the old things, the clock above the hutch belonged to Mr. D's mother, the Wedgwood to my other grandma, and, of course, Jan (the retired bowling ball) rests peacefully, keeping me company.

Just that one corner and my desk are messy. I'm not going to lie to you, the desk will never get cleaned up. But there it is, my library. My sacred space.

Spill it, reader. What nook & cranny looks tidy in your world?

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glorious fall

Picked and packed and posing: Mr. T, Green Girl & Mr. G.

I've quit hating on fall--I blame the awesome weather we've been having since Saturday. Absolutely gorgeous and sunshine-y and mild. I grubbed in the garden. I watched Wisconsin teams DOMINATE over their opponents all weekend (seriously--no other state in the Union is cheering like we are--our Monday sports section in the newspaper is twice as thick now with all the reporting of Badgers and Packers and Brewers). I ran a sensational 26:37 for my 3 mile candidate training run. (Actually, that last bit is both good and bad--that was my goal for my final run time and now I have to beat it for two more weekends--is that even possible? I asked Mr. O if he was fudging my run time and he laughed at me--guess not.) Our neighbors had fireworks, Team Testosterone (plus Mr. B's BFF Mr. A) played hard and long outside and we picked the pumpkin patch.

Mr. B, convicted truant, biting into an apple.

The boys played flag football, we ordered take-out pizza on Saturday and grilled a big ol' tenderloin on Sunday--ate it with a side of salad, green beans, potato salad and butterscotch brownies warm from the oven.

Loading the bags in a sunny orchard.

How can a person be grumpy with so many blessings? Asters in bloom, a new propane tank and contract (saving us a lot of money), apples--so many apples! I bought one of those nifty corer-peeler gadgets and things have gotten pretty saucy around here.

C'mere you little rascals, mama wants to give you big hugs.

Turns out a little fresh air and sunshine is exactly what this Green Girl needed. Spill it, reader.

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of daffodils and dirt piles

My name is Green Girl and I have a daffodil addiction. I add a new variety each year, about 450 daffodils bloom here in the springtime. My fantasy is to have 30 varieties, thousands of yellow flowers in the spring, and the way these bulbs naturalize, it's not too far-fetched a fantasy. I dug up a few patches last fall that hadn't bloomed and discovered they'd multiplied exponentially, so I divided and moved things around, adding 75 bulbs to new spots. This fall I'll purchase another new variety (or two) and divide some more crowded clusters. Behold! Daffodilpaloza!
The peach insides of these creamy flowers are unique,

but I especially like the dark yellow insides of these jonquils. So cheerful.

Standard all-yellow and pale yellow,

delicate rims of dark yellow in the center,

and peach-colored with double-ruffled inside petals. Definitely the most unusual and showiest.

The sustained warmth made my front bed explode overnight. I swear I could have sat on the porch and watched them grow, the hostas burst through the soil, the tulips budded from scrawny green stems.

A little forsythia brightens up the beds, too.

Formerly this bed was my original vegetable garden when we built. Then it became a strawberry patch when the berries overtook things. Then I got a bright idea to amend the soil with dirt from the creek bed, which brought in enough stinging nettle to burn the Taliban into submission. I've since moved all the strawberries out to their own spot in the potager and will plant this with vegetables once again--peas, green beans, tomatoes and peppers.

This mess is the potager--memorize it well, friends. When you see it again it will be greatly altered in appearance.

Signs of industry are everywhere this time of year.

The dirt calls to me. Can I help myself? I dig dirt.

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little bits

* In further proof that the world is very small, I discovered last night that an old friend from high school and an even older friend from my childhood are in a Bible study together at church. I knew both of these women in different towns--yet here we all are, in one spot now.

* Mr. B surprised me yesterday at his school concert. He had a big featured solo part and never told me!

* I sat beside a very kind old gentleman during the concert. Elderly gentlemen are among my favorite kinds of people. We chatted a little, he was polite and pleasant to sit beside.

* Still decimating the box elder bugs.

* My toes are cold every day. I've taken to wearing slippers.

* My email box is overflowing.

* I'm craving all things savory lately.

* Especially shepherd's pie.

* Well, all pie, really.

* The cold wind feels cleansing today.

Spill it, reader. In little bits.

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a stay-inside kind of day

I woke up this morning to the wind moaning SO loud in the chimney that I thought someone left a TV set on. It sounded just like people's voices. Pity the semi drivers today with all the gusty winds. Right now I can see the kids at recess across the field trying to play outside. They look positively miserable. If I were the principal of Happyland Elementary, I'd declare Indoor Recess today.

Wearing nasty old bleach-stained pants because it's too chilly for shorts. I'm lazy and spent Saturday going to lunch with my BFF (who gave me the most wonderful gift--just wait until you see it!), Sunday choring around the yard and visiting the neighbors, and yesterday messing around with Team Testosterone. No shopping. If I have to go anywhere, I have 2 pairs of jeans from the last decade that will cover my bottom half for now.

Over the weekend I divided clumps of daffodil bulbs--and replanted over 100 bulbs. I know there are more bulb clumps to dig up, but I forgot exactly where they are. It looks like a rogue dog or groundhog has been digging in my garden beds, I keep digging "probe holes" to locate the daffodil bulbs and I'm making a mess out there. I divided lilies and replanted coneflowers and pulled weeds. I rescued 2 frogs, did the edging with the string trimmer and hung out a lot of laundry. The mosquitoes were merciless except when the wind swept them aside.

Did I mention that we have a pumpkin patch? We share it with our neighbors. We've got the most huge pumpkins ever. We're in awe of how it grew.

Our secret? Our neighbor is a farmer with Mad Skillz. He brought in a truckload of manure and added other Super-Strength Secret Farm Ingredients. We're guessing all the rain this summer probably helped, too.


Naturally we spent some quality time looking it over and laying claim to different pumpkins.
I'm going to have to get a bigger carving knife ...


or perhaps a small chainsaw to carve this year's Jack O'Lanterns.

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grand gestures

Last night I started learning the sword form in karate. Swords are glamorous weapons. Seriously. They reek of danger and thrilling adventure. Swords are also heavy and awkward to learn. But once you get the moves right, everyone, from ninjas to pirates to knights to vampires look wicked cool wielding them. The very first movement in our sword form is to unsheath your weapon from your side and raise it high above your head. Talk about a grand gesture!

and from that point on

it's all about thrusting and stabbing

spinning and slicing

jabbing and chopping

and cutting your opponent in half.

In a few hours I'm off to the Twin Cities with Team Testosterone to visit my sister, which is something I haven't done in a loooooong time. Our relationship has been fraught with complications since childhood, but she's in a good place now and going to see her is probably the best gift I can give her. This weekend together is all about her, the boys will smother her with affection, well as much as boys their age are wont to do, and we can bond over something other than a cell phone. Her new apartment has an indoor pool, a major perk for my gang. The Momvan is packed with sleeping bags, books on tape, markers, paper, overnight gear and snacks & gifts--including cheese curds made fresh this morning at the cheese factory up the road. The forecast is balmy, adding to our excitement.

My plans also include meeting up with a bloggy pal--I'm SO anxious because I've never done this before. It's like meeting a penpal! We agreed on the time and location this morning. I think I might wear my green sneakers so she recognizes me right off the bat. They are my avatar, after all. I know this will be an amazing experience--I can't wait to share it with you on Monday!

I'm picking a lucky winner for Saucy's Grand Gesture and ipod earrings on Sunday night, so don't forget to leave your comments. Spill it, reader, what grand gesture have you got planned for a loved one?

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state of affairs

I'm still not sick of the snow, even though it's in the air again today--fizzing around like soda bubbles before landing. Mr. B and Mr. T have taken to shoveling after school--they don't even expect to get paid. It pleases me that they're outside getting some fresh air and exercise before coming inside to do homework and have a snack.

I retrieved Mr. T from wrestling last night, he was grinning ear to ear again, face red and hair sticking up from sweating. In the car I asked him how it went, what did he learn, did he have fun. "Mom," he sighed, leaning back against the seat, "I just love wrestling. It makes me happy."

I've gone to the parochial school in town to inquire about enrolling Mr. T--I believe the smaller class sizes, more hands-on curriculum and fewer teachers will make a huge difference for him. The school goes up through 8th grade, so he'd be there until high school. Anyway, I did this without saying anything to anyone in town (aside from Mr. D), but true to small town nature, I was immediately recognized by several students there who reported back to their parents and word of our interest has spread. Last night when I picked up Mr. T a dad came up to me and said, "So I hear you're close to making a decision." I stared at him a full few seconds before registering what he meant. "Oh! Right! Yeah. We're 90% decided on what to do," I told him, marveling at the speed of our local grapevine. Will the public school find it telling that their PTA president is going to send her firstborn to the parochial school?

Mr. G has shown up regularly for snuggles since earlier this week which is nice because he feels warm against my side and I like smelling the top of his head. His addiction to Star Wars Lego on the Wii has ebbed somewhat and we're able to do other things once again. How do you all handle it when a kid is rabid about a new toy/game/activity? Do you let them play it endlessly until they tire of it or do you temper their obsession by requiring them to do other things? It's only been a week (we got the game when Mr. B traded with a buddy--he swapped Batman Lego for Star Wars Lego for a couple weeks) and I've let him play it every day, but not every evening.

Mr. B takes school so seriously. A paperback in his bag tore and he was very concerned about fixing it before bringing it back. He studies his spelling words independently and reads to himself now. I don't have to coerce him much at all, instead I get to enjoy hearing him read to me, only lending a word now and then.

Mr. D left for Arizona early this morning to golf for five days with friends. I hope he comes back more relaxed and with his head on straight. It couldn't have come at a better time.

I feel quite content, wanting for very little these days, just sitting back and savoring all the flavor of life. It's unusual for me not to feel restless by this point of winter, but I'm not climbing the walls and wailing with despair. I'm curled up with my Pepto-Bismo pink Snuggie and Mr. G reading a book, drinking my coffee, listening to the steady churn of the dishwasher, counting my blessings.

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amateur night

Oh how I used to love New Year's Eve--up all night hitting bar after bar after bar and stumbling into a truck stop for breakfast. Then I graduated from college. For a few years Mr. D and I enjoyed a round robin party with neighbors in our old 'hood. Then we moved. Now? We have kids and babysitters cost a premium tonight and the bar scene is more horrifying and annoying than amusing and festive for us Old People. It's a nice meal at home and movies augmented by a wii this year (thanks, Santa!). Tonight's venue: steaks on the grill, rolls, salad, beans and pie; Night at the Smithsonian; wii bowling and tennis. I bet we won't see midnight at my house. How about you, reader?

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weekend report

After I stopped laughing at Friday's comments--Midwest Mom and Violet were TOO funny--you must go look if you missed it--I resolved to do what I usually do in the face of TMI: "Well there ya go!" Historygirlie and I are obviously from the same neck of the woods because I often do that.

Now for the report.

The Good:
*I made my entire team and our opponent my bitches in the second game bowling Friday night. I was so tired and didn't even want to bowl, but it ended up being fun--especially when Jan served up such a phenomenal second game.

*Since I had no candidate training or karate graduation, I had all kinds of extra time on my hands--literally hours of it. Things got organized, pages got written, hair got cut, errands got run, piles of paper got sorted/filed/tossed.

*I made apple pie from scratch--yes, the crust too. Delicious.

*The Grossology exhibit at our children's museum--and the fact that it wasn't crowded since we went during the Packer game.

* Our neighbor's son built the deer blind to end all deer blinds for Mr. T and Mr. D to use next weekend. While it doesn't have running water (yet...I'm sure R would've put it in if he'd had time), the men are describing it as a two-story condo in our woods. I'm intrigued but forbidden to check it out until they're done hunting. You know, my scent and all...


The Weird:
* Mr. T has it in his head that he needs canned food for deer hunting in our Back Forty this weekend. Like pork and beans. Mr. D's not sure why since he plans to eat in our house. Too many cowboy movies, perhaps?

* Last night I saw an commercial saying that the lady attacked by her chimp will be on a Monday morning news program--which made me think of the woman at the store who randomly shared that newsbit with me. I hadn't thought it was news since NPR didn't cover it. I conclude that an entire venue of "non-news, but fascinating news fodder" must circulate through the "news" venues I avoid--like The Today Show, Dateline, 20/20, actually, anything reported on TV "news shows," come to think of it.

* Which totally supports my theories about Sarah Palin.

* My family can plow through a family pack of cheeseburgers and fries--and D wasn't even eating with us.

*I know all kinds of good body function trivia thanks to the museum exhibit--did you know that your bladder can hold up to 2 cups of fluid comfortably? The tighter your sphincter muscle, the more high-pitched your flatulence. Conversely, looser muscles make lower pitched toots. Your nose smells best at age 10. I've got tons of these now.

The Ugly:

*Some young thing in a sports car illegally swerved around me on the left while I was turning into an intersection me and then cut me off in traffic. I simultaneously laid on my horn and my brakes and barely avoided a fender-crushing accident. Her response was to throw her hands up in the air like she didn't know any better. I should've glided into her passenger side panel. The Momvan needs a little buff-and-shine. Hopefully the next driver she cuts off isn't so defensive and she gets what's coming to her.

* My sons are obsessed with Plants vs. Zombies--and Mr. D brought it home for them to play. Which meant they did NOT want to clean upstairs and much yelling and threatening ensued.

*I played the Zombie game and the Zombies ate my brains. Five times. So then I quit.

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we're all winners!

Not really. A lot of you lost. (But you're not losers, don't let anyone tell you that ever!) #2 was the lie. I had leading roles in Bells Are Ringing and The Pajama Game. When you're second female lead alongside the cute Doris Day-type, it helps if you're loud, obnoxious and have (fake) red hair. I was a terrible driver in high school--okay, Mr. D, and beyond high school. But! I haven't been in an accident in years now. So there. I actually earned a letter in Forensics, but my sporting career was limited to one season of bench-warming my sophomore year and I was never in the band.

A few people went 2 for 3 on my game--Madame Hotfessional, Jen on the Edge and Hope over at .Bulletproof.. Ladies, to honor your accomplished B.S.-sniffers, shoot me an email with your address and I'll send you your choice of my home-made applesauce or raspberry jam.

Meanwhile, I'm up to my eyeballs in it--a bake sale (sugary), black belt training (sweaty), kids with homework and projects (scowly), class reunion (sensational), garden harvest (seven quarts of tomatoes this morning) and a manuscript to edit (squinty). Busier than a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest. Truly.

But a few words about my high school reunion before I return to my chores--I may have mentioned that I don't really have a "home" in the traditional sense. My family moved every 4 years or so, we never lived close to extended family and they've kept moving since I graduated high school. The question "Where are you from?" leads to complicated answers. Which I won't bore you with here. I will say that I'm loath to "go back" because I always feel like a fringe element around people who'd spent their entire lives together. I've never done a college reunion and rarely return to any of my old haunts from any point in my life. Perhaps it's a fear of having been forgotten (my ego fears discovering my insignificance) or it's a fear of showing up where I'm not wanted. I hate to crash parties as an uninvited guest.

I went and it was swell. People greeted me with open arms (literally--I haven't been hugged so much since I don't know when). People told me they were glad I showed up, they hoped to see me and reconnect. Really overwhelming. I found myself faced with old classmates who have become successful, happy, productive people. Sure, a few pompous jerks mingled with the crowd, but I didn't really talk to them. I talked to the guy who sat behind me in 9th grade English, the girl I wrote a senior class skit with, my prom date. I met wives and husbands, heard about folks who couldn't make it and saw a few people who have always nestled in a tender spot in my heart.

I laughed with pleasure, shock and joy. Nostalgia permeated the air as the DJ spun all 80's hits on vinyl, competing with the talkingtalkingtalking because there was much to catch up on when you've been away from each other so very long. I jotted down a couple email addresses and promised I'll come back in 5 years. I lay in bed Sunday morning exhausted, hoarse from all the talking and muscles aching from the weekend's black belt training. But I lay there utterly content.

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take a seat

Lethargy is the overriding theme of this family vacation. I sit on the beach and watch the boys play in sand and water. I sit in a rowboat and watch Mr. T row. I sit on the dock and watch the kids catch fish, occasionally lending assistance when a hook gets too deep in a bluegill's throat. I sit by the fire pit and watch the flames lick the edge of my marshmallow. I sit in a canoe and watch the shoreline drift past. I sit in a pontoon and look at all the cottages lining this giant lake--the primary feature of every shoreline property being a plethora of chairs--lawn chairs, hammocks, adirondak chairs, wood benches, swinging seats. Every. Single. Thing. about this place screams "Sit down! Take a load off!"

Sitting back.

Relaxing.

Feeling wicked lazy.
And my butt isn't one bit sore yet.

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on the occassion of their anniversary

this phone conversation took place:

Mr. D: I talked to mom today. She said I should send you flowers.
Green Girl: No! I just picked some zinnias for the table. They look pretty.
Mr. D: That's what I told mom. You have flowers everywhere. I don't need to buy you any.
Green Girl: Of course not!
Mr. D: But if you'd have hesitated in the least I'd get you some.
Green Girl: That would be silly.
Mr. D: So I'll pick up a pizza for dinner tonight?
Green Girl: I'll call it in, you go get it.

The most basic things work well and hardly ever break down. Hammers. Coffee mugs. Wool sweaters. Measuring cups. Hairbrushes. Shovels. Benches. Pillows. Spoons. Books.

Reader, what works in your world without bells, whistles, frills and fuss?

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midsummer

July has proved to be a bountiful month so far--Mr. T went to camp and LUFFED it with his whole heart, Mr. G turned five, I mastered canning jam. Mr. B keeps kicking soccer goals, Mr. G's on the cusp of giving up his training wheels and Mr. T is taking a cooking class this week. Tiny green zucchinis have popped out of their blossoms in the garden, we're eating fresh-picked spinach for dinner and the daisies I planted two years ago are prolific beyond my wildest dreams. The raspberries show no sign of slowing and our pear trees have golfball sized fruit hanging on their branches. Let's take a walk and look at the prairie this morning. No worries, no one can see that we're still wearing bathrobes--the trees have grown enough to block the road from view.

Our prairie is totally showing off right now--over 7 flower species in bloom (here are some bee balm, coneflower, ox eye sunflower!) and all the Black-Eyed Susans I care to pick for our kitchen table.

In the midst of all this bounty there's the pressing urgency that comes with reaching summer's midpoint--friends we have to plan to see, local attractions we haven't yet enjoyed. What night will we get to the drive-in to see a movie? We've never missed a season since the drive-in opened. We need to set a date to invite our neighbors over for a party. We haven't gone to a Brewer game, Bay Beach or the Children's Museum, despite talking about it in May. I peeked ahead in our calendar to find August is full of long-standing commitments and I realized yesterday that I hadn't even cracked this month's book club read yet.

I'm not letting panic take hold.

Weeks ago I chucked my to-do list into the recycle bin, vowing to linger in the sweet shortness of summertime. No chore needs to take precedence over a water fight with my boys. The laundry, the dust, the dishes, the manuscript, the half-painted wall? Will be there tomorrow. This hot weather, this bonfire, this bag of marshmallows, this gang of boys ready for a backyard game of baseball? A limited engagement.

This year I'm ignoring the midsummer panic and I'm opting for midsummer lethargy. How about you?

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satisfaction

* all the laundry is done
* and smells like fresh air and sunshine because of clotheslines!
* 3 children sleeping in
* freshly bathed and one covered in faux tattoos
* a budget talk with Mr. D that ended in laughter
* lilies, daisies, irises & delphiniums in bloom
* green tomatoes and blossoms on the bean plants
* a pile of papers read & recycled
* sparkling clean bathrooms
* open days on the calendar
* time, a book, a hammock, a porch

What's satisfying you lately?

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