It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

Pinterest is just plain trouble. Do not go there. It’s like the rabbit hole – you just keep falling deeper and deeper until you can’t remember what you were attempting to discover in the first place! I was checking out potential crafts for a mother/daughter evening. Bonding 101.

Whoa…they have updated my site – or I guess it’s been quite awhile since I visited the land-of-I-hope-I-can-do-this. There are advertisements for super cute shoes! First rabbit hole. By the time I got to check out and figured they were being shipped from Egypt it was too late. I’d wasted a good 20 minutes.

Hole #2 – Ads for an amazing array of items that look really, really useful! Super tape to hang anything anywhere! A tape that replaces grout! Cleaning solutions! This cool gummy thing that cleans lint off of your keyboard! A neat duster for your floorboards – they will look spotless! It only took about 7.5 minutes for me to figure out that these nifty devices just cause more work.

So, approximately forty minutes later I have no ideas, because the third hole was beautiful porch decor for the fall. I realized all of the fabulous, astounding and gorgeous porches required pumpkins for a proper effect. For one week I have had two pumpkins on my porch, and they have been eaten by the locals. No fall decor happening here.

It was nice to dream.

It sure is. I’m channeling Matchbox Twenty here at 3 am while two deer are chomping on my septic field grass. I can see their shadows in the faint moonlight. I would not have noticed them, but I needed to get a glass of water to slake my thirst from a salty dinner and I stopped to glance outside. (The fact that I even saw them convinced me I don’t need to make an eye doctor appointment now.) Yes, living the wild life here.

I did have the opportunity to drive through Cherry Creek State Park on my way home from lunch today – so I was living it up a little. There I spied a coyote in broad daylight – most unusual. Either ill, injured or desperate, I usually don’t see them until dawn or dusk or fog. I do know they are once again inhabiting our neighborhood because I saw the surest omen – a “missing cat” poster on our stop sign. It was time for them to return anyway. The rabbits are repopulating the area.

All of this makes me feel that Nature is putting us on notice. Hopefully she doesn’t throw too wild a party this winter. If she does, I’ll just get a glass of water and climb back into bed.

Arising early to grab a cup of coffee before the house and the sun rose this morning, I found that I needed not flick a single switch. My pathway to the illuminated coffee pot was brightened by the numerous digital displays and charging station lights on our first level. Eighteen of them, to be fairly exact. There could have been more, but it was early and my foggy brain may have missed a few.

How many clocks do we need? The answer is three digital clocks per room. (Slight exaggeration other than in the kitchen). Should, God forbid, we have an intruder, the marauder will be able to time his visit quite well.

On my way upstairs to enjoy the silence I wanted to count the second level rooms to complete two-thirds of my survey. However, I decided against waking the dog and made “silence” the real mission. This action allowed me to hear the delivery of the morning newspaper from my open window.

Time to illuminate my brain and read some comics.

Yes, dear friends, that time of year, 
Harvest season is truly here.

Roads to travel require certain skill, 
Weaving around mating season roadkill.
Farmers moving giant bales of hay,
Slow my progress on the way.
Harvesters are hogging most of the road
Having obviously reaped many a load.
Semi trucks loaded with golden grain,
Rule the movements in this domain.
But the lone farmer on his ATV
Knows how to operate in this flurry.

While travel speed may be diminished
I’m rather sad when I have finished.
The beauty of the farmer’s labors,
The helping hand of other neighbors,
The autumn hues blanketing the land,
All reminders of the Master’s hand. 

If you ever find the need for some reflection, 
Drive a two-lane road in any direction.

Obviously, this is a known fact in my family. My brother, who pretty much is my mother’s first phone call when things go awry, has a name that rhymes with, “Carl.” He is the count-on-able person for my mother. (Probably the favorite, too) And if he can’t be that person, he still finds a way to be that person! (He is not even a subscriber-by-choice to this blog. So no endorsements are in the works.)

This subject came to light after a friend of mine shared her “Cougar Town” wine glass with me. The glass, named, “Carl,” was a nice edition to our evening, creating a smidge of envy from the rest of us enjoying our evening with a normal-sized glass. We decided we all needed a Carl, and thus was prompted my discourse on what a gift my bro was. He definitely surpasses the name of a wine glass, (watch the show) but he does embody the need we all have for someone or something count-on-able.

I hit the brother/friend jackpot.

This will have to be a short missive. It is imperative that I assist my mother in getting my blog out of her junk mail folder! God bless her, she has faithfully read through her trash to get to mine. (Ahem)

I can think of no greater mission for the evening before we retire. Well, we might have to slip a Scrabble game in, too.

“You can do yard work!” Now, who would pass up that kind of invitation to visit one’s mother? “Your brother can be here, too!”

DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! When two or more siblings are involved in yard work it translates to “Major Project.” And when the sibling brings his spouse, the proper translation is “Extra Major Project.” The translation was accurate.

My mother has a yard the size of a football field. The spruce tree in the back is bigger than a house. The hydrangea we pruned is as big as my kitchen. It is a monster, absolutely stunning in its size. The heads of the flowers are dinner-plate sized. However, the project only slightly touched on the gargantuan hydrangea and other shrubs that needed pruning, and thankfully neglected the spruce pruning. These were merely “warm-up” tasks.

We ripped out the entire landscaping on the west side of the house. Spading, shoveling, pulling, chopping with the axe, raking vines. The local dump received two large truck beds full of our labors. Our muscles received ibuprofen doses and hot showers. We capped off our work by attending Mass, grateful to have accomplished so much. As we sat in our pew, the announcements were read.

“The high school students will be offering their time on November 1st to do yard work as part of their service projects. Those needing assistance can contact the school.” Sigh.

The song on the car radio as I pulled into the garage last night was Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” The song on the radio as I got in the car this morning for my road trip was Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” Okay. Nice little coincidence.

I enjoyed today’s road trip with my Sirius radio, switching stations frequently to catch up on tunes. The best part was listening to the Goo Goo Dolls share their playlist, which coincided with many of my own favorites. Perhaps I could hang out with them one day? We like the same music?

As I pull into my mom’s garage, the song the Goo Goos share from their library of music love is Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” It’s great when someone puts into words what you are feeling, and then takes it a step further with music. And when the cosmos pounds it into your head with a steady beat, it’s phantasmagoric.

I’m anxious to see what pops up when next I “Escape.”

Do you like these ribs better than the ones we normally prepare? How about this asparagus? Was it better grilled this way or the way we do it on the stove? Did you like the biscuits? What kind of homemade jam would you like on them?

These questions were absolutely perplexing me at dinner this evening. My dear husband had prepared a wonderful banquet, my son provided cheerful banter. I was slightly exhausted from a nine-hour day of true delight. (And I really mean that – not being snarky on this one! I love it when it’s this busy and fun!) However, I was exhausted. All I could really think of was my one travel habit.

“Always take the apple the hotel offers at the front desk.”

There are some days when every intersection will provide you with a red light, or every traffic light will turn red upon approach. The line you choose at the grocery will be the longest, and will have a price check ahead of you. Your printer will not respond, and the four assignments you need it to spit out will be in the queue, biding their time, promising to print a week later when the wind blows, or a new phase of the moon begins.

And then, as you are learning an entirely new system of payment for which you missed the training meeting, a cute little second-grader will just stand there smiling at you, waiting for you to get it right. She doesn’t mind that you have to cancel the transaction a few times before you actually think you might understand what the heck you are doing. She listens to you read the directions and search for the proper keys. She can wait for that red light to turn! She takes the price check in stride!

“It takes a long time to become young.” Picasso