Blueberry Hill

It’s blueberry time here on the farm and I spent a lovely morning in the shade watching my husband pick blueberries. I had my little official blueberry picking basket, but really wasn’t feeling up to crawling around in our forest of fruit. The berries this year are enormous and juicy, so if you are interested, we will be having our driveway sale in the next couple of weeks.

I’ve wandered back up to the house after several conversations with the animals, found a good book, made a blueberry smoothie and will be planting my butt on the porch for the rest of the morning. I’ll be glad when this pneumonia plays out as I am already bored with sitting around.

Check out my pics for an anti-inflammatory treat: Almond milk, blueberries, strawberries, flaxseed and stevia.

Daikon and Decongestants

FD236E7E-218B-4A51-AEC8-F92A668A0FF1.jpegAfter several punky days of sniffling and sneezing (thanks Margaret), I finally crawled under the covers and succumbed to this dreadful head cold.  I doubled up on my Vitamin C and Zinc, along with a few other ancient motherly remedies, followed by a vat o’vicks and a soak in my salt water pool.  Needless to say, I still felt like crap and turned to the big guns with nasal spray and DayQuil.  It was so pitiful on Monday as I rolled into Walgreens for the above ammunition, only to find myself in the parking lot like a junkie trying to pry off the childproof top of the spray bottle.  I actually had to go back inside where my friend October (yes, that is her name) tried to help me, but was eventually forced to get a pair of pliers out of the drawer and two cashiers gripped and wrenched until it finally popped off.  (Glad it wasn’t just me.)

I stayed at work long enough to know I needed to go back home, and dragged my sorry self back to bed.

By Tuesday, all the chicken soup in the world wasn’t working and I gave up the fight and went to the Little Clinic at Kroger.  I was happy to note that I was their only customer and the young man who listened to my tale of woe, was very patient and quite comedic.  I have so many issues with the medical profession and it takes a lot to make me go, but if you have to go…  this place was ok.  They called me in some antibiotics and some kick-ass head-meds, and they were ready at CVS before I even made it to the car.

So for the rest of today, I will be sitting around watching my favorite cooking shows in a mild haze of antihistamines and ginger water.  I imagine I will be back at work tomorrow, though I am not planning anything too strenuous.

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This is what happens when I’m home alone with the cooking channel.  Grilled chicken, fresh spinach and daikon salad with homemade dressing.

Thanks to all of my buds at work who have been checking on me  (Hey, are you dead yet?) and taking up the slack while I’ve been out.  Just in case I have spread my cooties throughout our team.  Here is the recipe for a quick recovery:

Cut up ginger, lemons, limes and mint leaves

Soak above ingredients in the water overnight in fridge and enjoy with a shot of tequila for medicinal purposes, of course!

 

Nailed It

The “Woman vs Wild” home transformation has been getting hot lately… literally.  Yesterday we started on the front half of the storage building which we creatively call “The Shed”.  It’s a dark oily smelling place full of tools, gardening stuff  and  all manner of supplies for home and garden upkeep.

A few weeks ago, which has it’s own upcoming blog post, we gutted the camping end of The Shed and ridded ourselves of massive amounts of tangled fishing poles, mouse eaten tents and empty bottles of propane.  It now has lovely new plywood walls and shelving units full of organized and usable camping and fishing gear.

Since that side turned out so nice, I wanted to keep the magic flowing and dug into the mess where we keep such things as the lawnmower, broken weedwackers, piles of rakes, shovels, bags of bug stuff, etc.  It isn’t as bad as most other projects that we have tackled, and once we ditched some big stuff, it really just came down to organizational storage.

So with gloves up to my elbows, I got up early and started in on two enormous rubber totes full of small “cha-chi” type house stuff, leaves, dead bugs and unmentionable mouse “presents”.   These totes are the type that you put a Christmas tree in, so you can image how much crap we had thrown in there.  Now, don’t think I didn’t want to just dump it, but there was probably a hundred bucks worth of wood screws, pounds and pounds of galvanized nails, and countless peg board hooks, paint brushes and duct tape that I was surely going to need.  So in I went.

As you know, it wouldn’t be me unless I found some humor in the mix, so I started labeling the resulting smaller more organized totes with my kind of fun.  So when I am working on a project, and go looking for supplies, here is what I will see:

Tote #1:  Nailed It

Tote #2: Screw You

Tote #3: It’s Got 2 B Glue

Tote#4: Electric Avenue

Tote#5: In the Paint

Tote #6 Watergate Tapes

Tote #7 Hooks on Phonics

Tote #8 Chicken Shit (this one headed to the barn)

I am never a fan of spending my whole weekend working on the house project, but tonight, as I sat on the porch, with the yard mowed and my new wicker twinkle lights overhead, I heard a little voice inside my head… “Yeah… you nailed it!”

Unexpected Transformations…

Lately it has been feeling  a little like my house is possessed.  Friends have been suggesting that I may need an exorcism to rid my abode of the ghosts and gremlins that are causing so much havoc.  I laughed when they said it, but deep down, I was beginning to think they were right.

When we bought this place year’s ago,  the previous owners handed us a book about our house that she had written called “Under the Sycamore”.   It was appropriately named as we have several big ones around the property, however, the book was not about a summer tea garden.  It was about the house being haunted by a Civil War widow, whose husband is buried in the historic cemetery across the street. Great.

Scoff I did, though there has been times when I am in the oldest part of the house that I think of the book, and glance around to see if there might be something to this ghost stuff.

Naw… this is not a post about how I saw spinning furniture or flying statues of the Mother Mary (which my family in New York swears happened in our living room).  I will tell you this, however… there has been so much miserable luck at my house lately, I did actually visit every room with burning sage and then just for luck I made a circle around the house with salt.  Whatever that ritual is supposed to be good for, I sure do hope it worked.  I have seen my Catholic friends bury one of their Saints headfirst in the dirt to help find lost items… I have seen my old neighbor’s nanny wear chicken feet around her neck to ward off evil demons and I don’t even want to mention what my Cajun friends do… so burn baby burn (btw, sage smells pretty nice).  Do I believe in this? Let’s just say, I like to cover all my bases.  If it will stop the hemorrhage of cash surging out of my wallet, then I would put a totem pole in the front yard and do a nekkid dance with sparklers shooting out of my ass… don’t judge me.

So here is where the story gets good.  Seven years ago while Chance and I were vacationing in Switzerland, we bought a crazy expensive cuckoo clock.  We figured this was a once in a lifetime purchase and though it cost almost $100 to send  home, we did it.  Needless to say, like everything else I own, it stopped working immediately and has been collecting dust on the Sunroom wall ever since.

Yes… here it comes.  Two days ago the damn thing started working.  I nearly jumped out of the chair where it hangs on the wall behind my seat.  What in the world???  Not only did it start working, but it has been ticking all week!  Craziest thing ever!  Why would it start working after all of this time?

My only guess is that the house and all it’s bug-a-boos has finally started figuring out that I am serious about my kick-ass rampage and that if it isn’t going to be with me on this transformation … it will end up at the curb with the other gifts to the gods of garbage.

I think that the ghost is happy with the improvements I have been making, and can appreciate the effort and strife some of the construction has put me through this year.  Then I thought, maybe she is just happy with the cemetery clean up that we did a few weeks ago during the Eagle Scout project and has granted us a little break in the money pit saga for sprucing up her hubby’s digs.    Either way, I am glad to have something work out right.  I hope this is the beginning of a new trend and an omen of things to come.

If I start to see weirder than usual things happening around the house, I’ll keep you all informed, but until then, it’s nice to know, I’m not the only thing around here that is “cuckoo”.

Oh Snap!

I will rise, but I’ll be damn if I’ll shine… or at least for a few more hours.  I am dragging a bit today, and geez, I think I have a right to be.  It is nothing catastrophic, but it is overwhelming.  So what’s got me down.. this time?  Well, besides my beloved Mini is in the shop for a bs sensor issues, the idiot hardwood floor people are showing up today (maybe) to check out the roots that has been growing into my carpet from the pile of wood that has been in my dining room since Christmas, I didn’t get home from work until 9:30 p.m. last night and am back here again at 7:30 a.m. dressed as a flapper (which believe me is getting very very very old), I missed my kickboxing class (due to above grievance),  let’s see.. oh yes, my doctor, who says he  has important information regarding test results from last week’s visit, didn’t call me yesterday…and an incredibly long list of other piss-ant crap.

So, what to do about it?  Since it is not on my Keto diet to have tequila for breakfast, and sorry Lisa S., I can’t kill anybody, I guess I will do the Red Shoe Life thing and work my way up from the bottom.

1).  I will drive husband’s hooptie really fast,  eat all of his sugar-free gum,  and leave my coffee cup in the holder 🙂

2). Put red underwear on the pile of flooring and when the guys show up, I’ll ask them to leave it just a little longer….

3).  Call my doctor to ask for note for work since I was unable to go due to my “important” medical issue.

4).  Give note to employer and take the rest of the week off. 🙂

5). Go to kickboxing class tonight and beat the shit out of the heavy bag

I guess some days you just have to “suck it up buttercup” and today, I’ll do it dressed as a flapper!

Deb’s Dreads

Life on the farm has been a swampy mess lately.  It finally thawed out and now has had at least two weeks of monsoon conditions, causing my girls to be cranky and not their usual glamorous selves.  Even Andrew, my Southdown Baby Doll sheep is moping.  I miss his smiling little face as he waits patiently for the other roller rink floozies to fight over the sweet feed.   I just muck around in my waders, schleppin’ hay and tidbits to higher and higher ground.  I’ve even been eyeing a pile of old fence wood contemplating building an ark.  BTW, thanks Bri and Brandon for the IKEA bag… it is working great for hauling hay and keeping spiders out of my hair!

So yes, I have a collection of sheep that I originally got to spin their wool and make art yarn. I love their wool.  It’s soft and fluffy… and so plentiful…  I even have a wonderful spinning wheel that I use to hang clothes on in my bedroom and drag out to the Mid-South Spinning Club once a year. The tubbies in my garage are really stacking up.  What to do… what to do?

I guess I lost my enthusiasm for yarn when I realized that I just can’t knit or crochet…  tried it… can’t do it. Perhaps I should have taken that into consideration before I purchased the sheep…  The other downer is that most people in Memphis just don’t wear woolen socks and hats.  Go figure!  I just had to come up with some other way to use all this wool.   That is when it hit me…  woolen dreads!  If you are unfamiliar with these cool beauties, check out Google or Pinterest and see all the vibrant colors and adornments.  My brain exploded when I saw how creative I could get with it and immediately fell in love with the whole process.   Thus, Deb’s Dreads were born.

Today the dreads went even further out on the limb of the crazy tree… One of my awesome sisters has a beach side gig where she sells wooden nautical art and driftwood masterpieces.  It’s called “The Wooden Peg” (her name is Peggy) and if you are ever near Jensen Beach, you’ll have to check her out.  One of the biggest sellers at The Wooden Peg are mermaids.  She hand cuts them, paints them, puts on the do-dads and voila… Ariel swims off the shelf faster than Peg can make them.  So one day we were yakkin’ about a new project and it suddenly popped up that it would be cool if the mermaids wore dreadlocks.  Hmm…  hot pink perhaps??  This conversation resulted in me making a set for her today which will be ready for the dying process tomorrow.  I can hardly wait to sew on the little pink sequins and tiny sparkly shells!

This got me thinking about other types of dolls.  I rang Florida and asked if she could make me a stand up version that I could make colorful dresses, head raps and dreadlocks.  Now my head hurts… I’m going to have to get more sheep…

Stay tuned for the finished projects and let me know if my knitting days are over.  In the meantime, making dreads for my human customers keeps me happy and insures that I can continue to use my spinning wheel as a clothes rack… or better yet… use it as the helm’s wheel on my new ark!

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27 Week Challenge

Over the holidays my transformation progress really slowed.  Although I didn’t gain any weight, my motivation was elsewhere and I was just trying to get all of the festivities under control at home and at work.  (I am an event and programs director).  When the last of the  Christmas boxes went up into the attic (ok, ok.. there are still a few at the top of the stairs….)  I started looking around wondering what the hell happened to my year of change.

March 2017 started my journey, and although I had come at it with a long list of things I wanted to work on, I realized that there must have been an awful lot of “back-peddling” to achieve so very little.  My pool is still a swamp, my hardwood is still in a pile in the middle of the Dining room, I only lost 50 pounds not 100 pounds, I still had the same job, same routine,  no new adventures, epiphanies or triumphs.  WTH???

Although the journey was supposed to be an overall transformation involving my whole self, I decided to narrow it down a little and concentrate on my physical appearance, hoping to achieve at least ONE part of my list.   I had actually lost 50 pounds, which isn’t chump change, but somehow, I was still wearing most of the same clothes and I looked exactly the same.. just smaller.  I would go so far as to say that I looked worse.  Now, everything that used to be fat, was smooshy.  I wasn’t even CLOSE to what I thought 50 pounds lost would look like.  I HATE those commercials when women say they lost 15 pounds and 3 dress sizes… Good grief.  I guess there was a lot of exercise in my future.

So, while I was thumbing through FB, I saw an ad for a 27 week physical challenge.  Why is it 27 weeks?  I have no idea.  The ad said that it involved kickboxing among other things, and it was at a Jujitsu Studio.  There is nothing I like to do more than kick and punch things.. so  this was right up my alley. The class was local, inexpensive and didn’t involve a bathing suit.   I was a little nervous about being the oldest battleship in the fleet, but I signed up anyway.  The only real thing I was worried about was whether or not I had TIME to do this.  I have crazy work hours, a farm, a family and a lot of time spent commuting…. it was going to be rough.

I am happy to report that this old gal has been hanging in for five weeks now, going to class 3 times a week, and 2 times a week to the gym for weight lifting and walking the track.  Do I feel better?  Hell no!  Every single day I have a new ache or pain, but my commitment remains solid.  The fear of failing at my transformation is greater than the pain in the ass of the break-neck schedule.  Sooner or later, something is bound to happen.

I knew there would be issues.. there always is.  I swear everything else in my life has spiraled out of control, mainly due to me spending so much time exercising.  Dinner has not been regular, and the house looks worse than ever.  My workmates jaws drop as I run out the door at the stroke of 5 wearing my workout clothes.  No longer are the days that I stay after work to finish a project or stop by the store on the way home to get that special something to go with dinner… Sorry gang, but  ya can’t have it both ways.

After the 27 weeks, I will slow my roll and try to create a utopia where I have time for everything…   yeah right, but for now I’m living out of the Mini Cooper with boxing gloves in the backseat right along with my cocktail hour attire and rubber boots.

My year’s transformation has been nothing like I thought it would be.  It was so much harder than I had planned and although I will not reach my goals by March, I will keep the list where it has been all year and cross them off one by one as I smash my way to the finish line!