Welcome to CAB’s Place!

I’ve recently sighted several alien creatures in my area.  Most of them have invaded my backyard. Look what appeared the other day:

Well, that’s not so alien. But at CAB’s Place, we love these things.  They keep the fly and other insect population down and they serenade us at night.  Number 4 was up and at it fairly early this particular morning.  Ignoring the fact that she was still in her pajamas, she wandered out to the backyard and began checking all her favorite places to see if she could find any of her bumpy amphibeous friends. She did. She likes to put them in her plastic play kitchen that is out on the back deck, where she can conveniently mix up all sorts of muddy concoctions year round.   Of course, she wasn’t mixing the toads in with the muddy concoctions she created. There is a small cabinet area with a see through door.  She keeps the toads in there while she goes out hunting for others.  After she’s caught two, three or four, she proudly displays her findings to any and all who will come look, then she has just as much fun releasing the creatures back in to the wild. Here’s another one she found:

He/She graciously agreed to be part of the photo op!

Now here’s where it gets strange.  We hear these alien creatures all the time.  Their noise at night is quite deafening throughout the summer.  But look how really small the creature is that makes such a deafening sound:

Another view of the same creature:

I really had no idea how very small the tree frog was.  And, yes, this model came complete with stickerized toes. Isn’t he cute?

 Then, later the same day, as I was reorganizing the garage after the massive garage sale I recently had, Number 4 comes walking around the side of the house with her Easy-Bake holder and a pan extended out in front of her.  “Mommy! Mommy!  Look what I found!”, she exclaimed excitedly as she walked over to me carefully balancing her prize in the miniature Easy-Bake cake pan.  I peered down at her and this is what I saw:

The dragonfly had apparently become waterlogged in our pool and was no longer able to fly.  My daughter, eager naturalist and unfrightened of any alien creature, gently scooped the thing out, drained the water out of the pan and came to show me her discovery.  The poor critter was barely alive or maybe dead but reflexively twitching.  It’s wings buzzed against the metal of the pan but the dragonfly could not move. 

But of all the creatures discovered in my backyard that day, this one was by far the strangest and most unique:

Everyday brings a new adventure around my place that’s for sure!

Well, at the behest of one reader, I decided to attempt pictures of the so called garden project.  I’m not sure anyone really cares, but, oh well.  I certainly have no clue what I’m talking about with gardening, but I can tell what I did and let the Master Gardeners of the World have a hey day with all the things I did wrong. Well, it’s not much, but I do what I can do.  Like I said in my earlier post titled, “I Fought the Vines and the Vines Won”, I don’t spend a lot of time reading and researching what I should be doing in my garden.  I mean, I really have no vision for what should go where and what the plants will look like once they’ve matured.  This, even I know, spells certain doom, or at least some transplanting, down the road.  I comfort myself with the fact that the garden looks a thousand percent better now than it did two years ago after the Ex let the dogs have a go at the gardening.

So, let’s see where to start?  Okay, here is one of the vines I put in.

This is a Hall’s Honeysuckle, and the tag that comes on the plant says full to part sun.  I planted this mid to late afternoon and the shade was just beginning to creep over it.  The fence you see is the 3ft. (or is it 4ft.?) chain link fence that encloses my  22ft. round above ground pool.  It keeps the dogs off the lawn side of the yard, keeps them away from company who might be afraid of dogs, like my nieces, and still allows the dog a variety of terrain to explore and relax in.  The dogs still have access to the house through the back door to the garage.  I don’t have a pet door installed, yet, but I’m hoping to eventually.

As you can see, the fence is a bit stark, gray and dreary looking. I hope to have the entire length of the fence, which runs from the back of my house to the back fence covered in evergreen vines.  I have two honeysuckle vines that are doing very well and they stay green throughout the winter which is really nice during those especially dark and wet days.  It also hides the other side of the fence from view.  That area during the winter becomes a muddy mess. 

Here’s evidence that I really don’t know what I’m doing in the yard. There was absolutely no good plan with this bed when the plants were originally planted and I have been trying to fix this mess.  Actually, this is a bed that was planted by the Ex, hate to rag on him, but I’m having to clean up a bunch of his messes around here so I figure I’m entitled.  We talked about this bed.  We went to the garden store together and selected about $700 worth of plants which I paid for.  Not a bad investment I figured.  We went around the yard, and placed the plants where we thought (well I thought it was we) they should be put in.  So, then, I went in the house to fix lunch for all the kids (we had 12 at the time) and when I came back out the plants were all in the ground but not one of them was even remotely close to the locations I thought we’d decided on previously.  Not only, that, but the goal of providing screening for the back fence and the chain link fence was completely disregarded.  As even the most inexperienced gardener knows, it is pretty difficult and taxing to uproot plants once they’re in the ground and I don’t think it’s so great for the plants either.  And with $700 worth of plants, it wasn’t going to be a simple task by any means. I was reeling with shock I was so stunned. Needless to say, I felt like Achmed the Dead Terrorist screaming, “I kill you!”.  (You can check that little video out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uwOL4rB-go. No, it’s not a video of me reeling, it’s a video of Achmed.)  It’s definitely a plus in my favor that the Ex is just the Ex and not a homicide victim after that little “misunderstanding”.   Oh well.

Next up are the bedraggled grape vines after having the blackberries torn out, or clipped out or whatever we did yesterday.  I should have gotten pictures of my son with armfuls of the thorny vines. He was not happy with me.  Later, at the dinner table, daughter Number 2, caught a glance at my arms, which had been badly scratched when I pulled the thorny things out.  She exclaimed, “Geez, Mom, you look like a fricken emo!”  She’s right, I did.  The vines were so overgrown before I tackled this project that they were almost to the top of the fence.  This is the after picture:

I really do need to build a grape arbor of some sort.  I actually think we’d get some pretty good grapes if the vines had a place to grow on.

This is the Red-Tipped Photinia that I planted along the back fence. I love this little plant.  I’m hoping it grows quickly and gets huge enough to block out the annoyingly bright floodlight from the neighbor’s back porch.  That light totally destroys the ambiance of my evenings in the hot tub. 

Speaking of which, I know you want to see it, don’t you?  The infamous hot tub.  The source of all my stay-cation fun this summer.  Here it is (if my file size for photos isn’t maxed out):

Well, I’m getting fairly close to maxing out my space allotment on this blog, so I guess I should stop there.  Plus, I’ve probably bored the world to death with my gardening woes.  If nothing else, this will provide me with a nice little before picture of parts of the yard.  It will be nice to see how things go the next couple of years as the young plants I put in this year mature.  I can’t wait to smell the fragrance of that Honeysuckle hedge!

Today was a perfect day for gardening.  What?  You didn’t know I was a Master Gardener?  Well, that’s because I’m not.  I’m a wannabe.  In fact, I’m a pretty poor wannabe gardener at that.  I don’t even study to see what I should be doing with my plants and I don’t really so much ask for help.  Okay, it’s even worse than that, I don’t even know what some of the plants are in my yard.  As gardening goes, I’m pretty pathetic. 

But today, I decided to change all that.  I had a few bucks in my pocket that I’d set aside for the purchase of two Honeysuckle vines and the red tipped Photinia that I’d been wanting all summer.  I know, I know, they should have been put in the ground in late May or June and given all summer to grow, but I didn’t have the money then.  (Remember my car troubles?  See previous posts if you are new to this station.  Hee!Hee!)  So, today, after dropping Number 1 off at her housecleaning/babysitting job, I took Numbers 2,3, and 4 out to donuts and coffee.  Okay, they had the donuts I had the coffee, see? Not the healthiest breakfast, but after scraping the change canister dry it was clear we’d have just enough to make a little bit of a memory.  A breakfast memory that didn’t include my burnt eggs and soggy French toast was a welcome thought to the kids and a much needed break for me.  So, we dropped off Number 1 and headed for our favorite pastry place.

After we received our delicacies and only being $6 poorer, we headed to our (okay, my) favorite plant and garden store.  I let the girls go explore the pond and the frogs, while my son pulled the wagon and lifted the plants in for me.  He’s quite the helper that way.  It didn’t take long for me to make my selections, after all, it’s pretty easy to go through $30 (my limit) at a store like that.  Ahhhh, so many plants, so little money and garden space.  Sigh.  So, after making our purchases, and wishing I was about 5 years ago richer, we headed home. 

This is where the trouble began.  Or the fun, or the comedy, however you choose to veiw it.  My son and I easily decided where to place the new plants.  Heck, there were only three of them and I have massive amounts of chain link fence that I am trying to use as a trellis for flowering evergreen vines.  I also have massive amounts of fencing that I hope to cover with colorful evergreen plants that will quickly grow large enough to provide a screen for me so my neighbors cannot pop their heads over my fence and see me sunbathing topless in my backyard.  Okay, never mind that I don’t really sunbathe topless unless I know everyone in the neighborhood is gone on vacation, but, still I don’t like the idea of anyone, especially the little old geezer next door to me (sweet as he is) popping his head over while I’m in my tanning attire.  And, about the topless thing, I’m in the direct flight path to the airport so, several times a day jets fly over my house so low I can almost make out faces in the windows.  No, sorry, I’m not into providing free entertainment, even if it would border on horror, to all the airline passengers coming into my hometown. 

But, of course, putting plants in the ground is never as simple as just digging a hole and dropping them in.  First, I got distracted.  I have creeping roses that I had to trim back, then, somehow, blackberry bushes from the neighbor’s yard had creeped in and were choking out the wimpy grape vines that the ex moved when he took down the grape arbor…and never replaced it.  That’s a project I’ll tackle one of these summers, but not this summer!  The blackberry thorny things had to go.  They were causing my son grief everytime he mowed the lawn and were only serving to make a mess of that one section of the fence.  Granted, it was a nice, green, mess, but the brambles where not the kind of screen I was thinking of when I was envisioning increased privacy.  I took the forlorn little clippers I have (they are my best gardening friends) and begain whacking away.  Well, as you can imagine, I didn’t stop with just the blackberry bushes, there where roses, and dead daylilly blooms, and, well, I went on a trimming frenzy.  My son, who is usually the one responsible for cleaning up the trimmings said, “See, Mom, this is why I hate it when you start trimming stuff.  You just go crazy!” 

So, I took a break for lunch, checked emails, but I wasn’t done.  I had plants to put in the ground.  I went out and planted the three new plants and then I got to weeding.  Weeding is a job I trust to no one, but myself.  I lost hundreds of dollars worth of plants letting the stepkids weed.  I’ll never do that again. 

So, there I was,  trimming off the last of the rose bushes on the pool side of the chain link fence and weeding the long grass that was creeping into the flower bed on the house side of the same fence.  The grass was getting so tall it was obscuring the new little Star Jasmine vines I’d planted earlier this spring.  But the fun ended when I stood up to take a look at my work, stepped backward and caught my heel on a paver that had been moved (no doubt, Number 4 looking for toads again) and I fell in slow motion backward onto my bottom and jarring my arms into the ground as I fell backward and landed suddenly on my seat.  I sat there momentarily stunned, feeling a great deal of pain in my butt and my arms, and wondering if I broke anything.  After a few seconds, it was clear to me that I’d broken no bones.  I sat there for a moment thinking, “I’ll bet that was hilarious to see!”  I got up slowly and very carefully, see, I’m not 25 anymore, and even though parts of my body were in mild discomfort, I was amused.  I would probably have been laughing hysterically if I’d seen myself fall.  Sigh.  Life is just sometimes like that.  We are busily working along making progress, then out of nowhere we catch our heel on something and the next thing we know we are slammed backward on on our seat wondering what happened.  In the end, all we can do is take stock of the damage, and do our best to get up and keep moving on.  If we can find some humor in the mishap along the way, all the better for us.  It speeds the healing process. 

Now, nearly thirty minutes after my little mishap I am sitting here telling the world about it an none the worse for the wear, though I suspect I’ll feel something in a few hours or maybe tomorrow that won’t be so funny.  I fought the vines, and the vines won…but I lived to tell about it! It’s a good thing none of my kids caught that little fall on video.  I’m certain it would have had YouTube written all over it!

Today is a day, if ever there was a day, when I could use Harry Potter’s Lucky Potion.  Well, sometimes life with kids is just like that.  Things were rolling along rather smoothly until that dreaded moment, at about noon, when I announced, “It is time to go outside and work.”  No, not play, I said that childhood swear word, “work”.  This evoked a number of irate and unhappy exclamations from my children, especially, numbers Two and Three.  Number Four is still away visiting her dad.  She will return tonight.  Number One was already commencing her chores when I made the announcement.  The work ahead of us that seemed so distasteful to my children was the pool cleaning project and mowing the lawn.  Somehow, this lawn of mine seems to take joy in annoying my son who ends up mowing the lawn each week.  He should feel lucky.  We skipped mowing it last week because I was out of town, so he got out of most of his chores since we all weren’t here. The lucky kid!

The pool has not been well maintained this summer.  I just haven’t had the time, energy or motivation to be at it every day like I’ve needed to.  I also haven’t had the money since what little extra discretionary spending I’ve had has been dissolved quickly with car repairs.  I’ve had to stretch the chlorine and other chemicals to the point that they are beyond out before replenishing.  And, I haven’t been consistent with, well, anything regarding pool maintenance.  I guess it is because I’m not just a little ticked off that my kids are perfectly content to let me work myself to death everyday even though I never get in and enjoy it with them.  “And why’s that?” you might ask. “Because someone still has to do laundry, clean the garage, fix the meals, shop for groceries, see to it that cars are maintained and lawns watered, and that the kids are completing the few tasks each day that they are assigned.”  Thank goodness one of those tasks is dishes, because I often think, one more thing these days, would just do me in.  Of course, I know intellectually it really wouldn’t because I’m a survivor, but on a feeling level, that’s just sometimes where I land momentarily.)

The lucky potion would have helped me today.  It would have advised me to phrase my announcement about going outside to work differently and it would have helped me change my own attitude about the whole process.  You see, I wasn’t in the best of spirits to begin with myself.  I was feeling a bit unhappy (a whole blog to itself, I suppose, and a juicy one at that maybe), somewhat agitated and I think my children picked up on this and became agitated themselves.  The Luck Potion would have reminded me to approach the entire project as a fun thing to do together instead of the mess I was quickly making of it for all of us by being tense and edgy. 

The way the Lucky Potion works, at least as outlined in J.K. Rowling’s sixth book, “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” is that it takes only two teaspoons but it does wear off after 24 hours. It makes you lucky, though, and anything you accomplish goes well for you.  Hmmm, what a thought.  If we had a lucky potion, what day would we use it for and what would we attempt to accomplish in that time?  No fair, making more.  It takes six months to brew the stuff.  Even so, the idea captured my imagination today as I finished the sixth book in the Harry Potter series.  (Note to readers:  One of my goals this summer was to read the entire series.  I started at the beginning of July and have read six of the seven books.  When I was out of town earlier this week, I picked up a hardbound copy of “The Deathly Hallows” for half price at a wonderful used book store only half a block from the Hilton that I stayed in.  No, I didn’t stay on my own nickel.  It was a conference I was attending to prepare me to teach struggling 4th grade readers in the hopes that I, and I alone, can prevent them from being struggling 5th grade readers.  LOL!  Anyway, I will begin the 7th in the series today and I estimate I will finish by Monday evening at the latest.)  Back to pondering the Lucky Potion question:  What/when would you decide to use the Lucky Potion if you had just enough to last 24 hours and why? 

I think I’m just going to leave it at that and see what people suggest, if anything.  I’ll include my own ponderings in a separate post.  I’d love to hear what others would do with the Lucky Potion if they could.

Well, okay, no, I am not going to go play by play through the big garage sale day.  But I will share the highlights for all the adoring masses (read heavy facetiousness there) who are wondering how my day went. 

All I can say is, “Wow! Wow!” and again, “Wow!”

As you might know if you read my post yesterday about Garage Sale Eve, I was nearly a wreck wondering if I could even pull this thing off. In the past, garage sales have not been that good to me.  They are a great deal of work beforehand, during and after the fact, for a nominal amount.  My mom, a genius guru of that American tradition we are discussing, was known to say, that a good garage sale can make you lots of money.  Believe me, she knew how and when she had a garage sale it was truly a nicer experience than shopping at Wal-Mart or Target as far as price, quality, cleanliness and service were concerned.  Therein lied my anxieties about my own garage sale: I was not going to come even close to pulling off something as spectacular as my own dear mother did.  In fact, it just occurred to me as I considered briefly for a moment my mother, her talents and how I miss her, that everything that woman I call “Mom” did was nothing short of spectacular.  From defying death three times to live the age that she did, to enduring the  crushing heartbreak and devastating loss of losing custody of three of her children in a really disastrous divorce which I think grieved her to her dying day to sticking out the daily grind of supporting a family and loving and being there for a man almost three decades her senior, the woman is an absolute inspiration.  I, like any teenage daughter and her mother, rebelled against my mother’s way of doing so many things.  Now that she is gone, and, no, it didn’t take me this long to figure it out, but especially now that I am in my mid-40’s, I realize how very exceptional my mother was and how very, very fortunate I was to live with her for the years I was growing up.  I have never and will never be able to pull off all that she did in the spectacular fashion that she did it.  This garage sale was no exception.  Thus, my low grade anxiety as I posted last night. 

As I usually do, I puttered around the house, locking doors, checking windows, let the dogs in, check on the children, set the alarm (something I rarely do in the summer but given the circumstances, well, we don’t want to sleep through the garage sale, now do we?) and, finally, find my way to my big California King size four poster bed, bury myself in my pillows and blankies and grab the current great book I’m immersed in and begin to unwind my mind for the day.  Currently, that book of choice happens to be the 5th book in the Harry Potter series and as riveting as that is I soon found my eyes drooping and so I turned out the light.  After checking the alarm clock once more and burrowing down into the soft cozy thing I call a bed, I drifted off into a deep sleep…only to be jolted wide awake…at 4 a.m.!  I was wide awake, I was so wide awake I couldn’t even come close to returning to a sleeplike state, so I picked up Harry and drifted along for a  bit.  By 5:30, my alarm was set to go off soon anyway, so I gave it up and got up.  I figured, what the heck.  (Man, I must have been wound up!)

So, I padded into the kitchen, let the dogs out, clicked on the coffee to reheat the half filled pot of coffee from yesterday and returned to my room to dress. After doing that I pulled open the garage door and started hauling stuff out into my driveway.  Well, now, that’s a task that falls squarely in the “easier said than done” category.  Yeah, it wasn’t long before I was feeling just a tad bit overwhelmed and, I admit, desperate.  I was in a state that my 14-year-old would label as “freaking out”.  Okay, I wasn’t really quite to that point, but I felt the tension coming on as the clock ticked steadily on toward 7:00 and I hadn’t even gotten the tables out yet. 

Attempt number one to wake my oldest and my son  failed miserably. My second child, having a big theatre engagement today begged off and was cut some slack so she wasn’t there, and my youngest was at her dad’s for a two week stint with the “Disneyland Dad”.  I had two helpers and wasn’t sure how reliable either of them would be.  Attempt number two to rouse the sleepyheads faired only slightly better than attempt number one…at least…I did hear an auditory response from both of them.  Attempt number three sounded like this, “If I have to come in here one more time, it isn’t going to be pretty or restful…SO GET UP NOW!!!”  They were both up, dressed and out in the garage shortly afterward. My youngest, having just had minor surgery wasn’t really in much shape to help out, but he was able to move the light stuff.  Unfortunately, his attitude was dismally anxiety inducing.  My oldest, once she woke up, did yeoman’s work and helped me get stuff out, finished pricing the few things that weren’t priced and when the folks started coming in, she took the money, counted the change, accepted all offers and well, basically she ran the show.  I just gave input on occasion and got her whatever she needed.  Hey, it worked!!!

So, I’ll cut to the chase.  The sale was a fabulous success!  Did we sell everything we wanted to?  No, but you never do.  We did sell enough to meet our mental monetary goal after expenses.  Nothing more came back into the garage, except that which has been paid for and is being held for pick up tomorrow.  (A wonderful twin bed frame and boxspring that I had to take a huge loss on, just to be rid of the hassle.) All the other miscellaneous items were boxed up immediately and placed in the back of my Durango and taken to Goodwill.  They are gone.  We have three boxes of books left, which we will take to a used bookstore that we frequent often and exchange for credit on books that are required for the older girls or which I need for my 4th grade classroom.  The few furniture items which did not sell have already been listed at http://www.freecycle.org and I’ve already got takers for a couple of the big things.  That’s a really good sale.

In the end, it does matter how much money you make from a garage sale.  I mean, I’d have been disappointed if we barely cleared a hundred bucks even though I would have been grateful for that.  The money, in my current case, matters more than usual, because I am still fighting to survive financially after a mucky divorce where I got taken to the cleaners in some ways (not all, just some and cash flow is one of them).  I’m not resentful about any of this, and I know many folks who’ve been down this path and suffered far worse and have recovered so well.  I am so hopeful about the future but the present is, at times, not so much fun.  This garage sale means we will eat a little better this month, catch up on some bills and I can breath (and sleep) a little easier.  But even those things, as truly wonderful as they are, are not the very best thing about this sale. 

You see, the money will go. It will go quickly.  No matter how much of it there is there are always demands or obligations requiring payment, especially if you are single and responsible for 4 kids.  That’s not a sob story, it’s just reality…and a really wonderful one at that.  Had I made several thousand dollars today, instead of several hundred, there still would have been things that would have made that money just dissipate.  Not frivolous things, like Starbucks frappucinos, but really important things like registering three kids for school for the fall, buying school supplies and clothes, catching up on attorney bills and, oh yeah, that student loan payment that demands attention. In the end, the money goes quickly.  It’s so nice to have the little extra and I am truly grateful for the success of our sale in that area but even that is not the best thing.

The great thing is that when I go out to change the laundry from my washer to my dryer, which is located in my garage (yes, 20-year-old fixer), I am struck with the vastness of the space there is!  I walk out there and think, “Wow!”, and I am struck with how big my garage really is.  It echoes now.  And, when I move out my teaching supplies this fall it will be an even bigger space. I can hardly wait.  But…even that…regaining the space I haven’t enjoyed in my home for nearly a decade isn’t the best of it all.

The best of it all is the memory.  My son was picked up fairly early and removed from the scene of the crime fairly early.  My oldest daughter spent the whole day with me.  In return, she did get some of the cash and a Starbuck’s Frappucino.  For both of us, though, the very best part of this day is the memories we will share of all the funny, crazy, bizarre weird little things that happened throughout our day.  Things that only the two of us were there for and that only we share.  I mean, only she will be able to reminisce with me about our apprehension when the first earlybirds came and left, without buying anything.  Only she and I can fully appreciate her comment to one of our customers who asked, “What is this used for?” and her response without hesitation or smiling, “Oh, that’s a device often used in psychiatric wards when patients….”  Well, she didn’t get any further, when I began busting out laughing along with all the other customers we had at the time.  She and I together will chortle about the man and his wife who came back three times and bought out all our craft supplies.  And we’ll remember fondly the person we’ve known forever, who showed up and took all our scrapbooking supplies.  I haven’t mentioned the neighbors who brought stuff and said, “Here, if you get anything for it just keep it” or the many neighbors we had that have children my daughter knows at school but who live a couple of blocks away so we never see them in our hectic lives.  These things are the best about the garage sale: the memories that will live on, long after the stuff is disposed of and the money spent.  As we relive them together, my daughter and I, they will be cemented in our minds as one of many really truly happy memories that we’ve shared that have been born out of this time of struggle and rebuilding.  In fact, as crappy as this year has been, if you asked either of us, would we go back and do things differently, we’d probably both look at each other for a brief second then answer in unison, “Naaaaaah!”  You see, the memories created today were worth far more than anything else that was accomplished here.  As I look back at how my mom was now that she has passed, memories of days like today, I hope, will come flooding back for my daughter as she reminisces about “us” after I have passed from this world. 

After the sale, we boxed up the remaining stuff, took it to the Goodwill, dropped it off and I returned my oldest to her dad.  We both had to scramble to get ready for Number 2’s big debut  in a leading lady role with the Missoula Children’s Theatre production of “Rumplestiltskin”.   When I returned home after dropping Number One off, I had 30 minutes to shower, dress and otherwise beautify myself.  It was fast but I ended up there on time.  As I sat there waiting for my second oldest’s performance to begin I was filled with a warm glow of contentment.  All is good in my world.  I looked back behind me just in time to see my oldest walk into the theatre with her dad.  In the short time she’d been away from me she’d gone from Cinderella in garage sale rags to the beautiful princess.  She took my breath away.  I looked back, caught her eye, waved, and mouthed the words, “You sure clean up well!”

Then…the lights dimmed…the show started…and my heart was bursting with gratitude and joy for having experienced, what I am convinced will prove to be, one of the most memorable days of this summer, if not, this entire year.

Well, here it is.  The night before.  The closets are cleaned the boxes are loaded, the items are priced and I’m exhausted.

Have you ever wondered how really significant the night before a big event is?  We have Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve, but then there is the night before the wedding, the night before the whatever the big event is going to be.  In my case, it is the night before the garage sale.  Usually, the night before is filled with anticipation and high hopes or dread depending upon the situation.  I am not sure how I’m feeling right now.  Apprehensive, indifferent, a little nervous?  Hmmm.  Usually, though with all big events, if there is any nervousness or apprehension the night before, it dissipates when the big day dawns.  The exception to this might be the wedding ceremony.  I don’t know. I guess I can’t really put a wedding and a garage sale in the same category unless you consider that I’m selling a bunch of the stuff collected as the result of the wedding at the garage sale tomorrow.  But I digress.

I hate garage or yard sales.  Oh, I like going to them.  I’ve picked up many a furnishing at rock bottom prices by shopping around this way.  But I hate hosting a garage sale for a number of reasons.

Reason Number One:  It means I really have to clean house.  Now I don’t mean scrubbing the floors or toilets kind of cleaning.  I mean going through each and every item in the house and getting rid of anything you haven’t used regularly in the last year.  The exception to that rule would be seasonal decorations or camping gear which you use annually but only during a particular season of the year.  This, to me, is tedious, mindless work.  It is necessary, but tedious and mindless nonetheless. I’d rather be doing just about anything else. 

Reason Number Two:  It means I have to live in a state of disarray and disorder and clutter for a period of time.  It reminds me too much of moving and packing to move.  I hate that temporary chaos and am only willing to endure it under the most desperate of circumstances.  I revel in order and I can only endure temporary chaos for the purpose of achieving greater order in the end.

Reason Number Three:  It means you have to give up at least of day of your life and sit outside your house and peddle your wares, while the world walks by and looks at all your junk. I mean, have you ever stopped to consider the things your junk reveals about you.  Oh my!  The old codger down the street can come by and take a look at the many varieties of books I’m getting rid of, which I collected from somewhere else and haven’t read, and don’t want to read, which is why I’m getting rid of them. Yet he wonders about my perspectives just the same.  The batty lady on the cul de sac across the way can come by and wonder, “Hmmm, wonder what she used that for?”  Sheesh!   I find this demeaning and if I weren’t so up against it financially, I’d just give all the stuff away. 

Reason Number Four:  It’s a boatload of work for marginal results.  The last time I had a garage sale, it went okay, but I collapsed afterward.  The time before that, my mother was still alive and she helped me.  She is the guru of garage sales and spent a great deal of her retirement having sales like this so she could put us kids through school and pay the bills.  That time she helped me, I did collapse of heat exhaustion.  I really hate these things.

Reason Number Five:  There is clean up involved afterward…and stress beforehand. 

Reason Number Six:  There is never any guarantee how much you will make or how much you will get rid of.  It is kind of a crap shoot. 

Reason Number Seven:  I have to get up early on a day when I’d most prefer not to.  At least I’ll have my coffee.

And, I’m sure by the end of the day tomorrow I will have several more reasons to add to the list.  Sigh.

So, with all the downsides to having a garage sale, why am I doing this?  Good question.  I am now, on this very Garage Sale Eve, wondering the same thing myself.  It originally started with me just going through stuff and deciding to get rid of it all.  Then when I saw how much I had, I thought, “Hmmm, wonder if I can get something for this.  Maybe, with gas prices the way they are and my car problems being what they’ve been, I should take a whack at it and see if I can’t make a few dollars, to offset these expenses.”  So, here I am, wishing I didn’t have to do this and hoping that all goes well and that I can make some money and get rid of all the stuff.  Absolutely none of it is coming back into the garage.  We’ll see how it goes.  Clearly I have the night before jitters. 

Well, a glance at the clock tells me that if I don’t get to bed now, I’m going to be a wreck in the morning and a tired grumpy garage sale wreck is not what I need.  So, I’m signing off.  Wish me well.  And while you’re out and about tomorrow enjoying your free time, be glad you aren’t having a garage sale.  But would you think of me and wish me well?  I’ll let you know how this “big event” goes tomorrow. 

Hey, does anyone need a blender?  How about an iron, brand new, used twice?  I have one, dirt cheap!  Okay, well then, enjoy your Saturday.

Okay, well some of you might know, I have another blog called “Random Musings of the Wild Mind”.  You can locate it at http://thewildmind.wordpress.com if you are so inclined.  I’ll warn you, I haven’t been writing as actively there as here.  Today’s post, though, might be just as fitting over there, as it is here, except that since it deals with my daily mom, single parent, divorced person life, I thought I would place it here.  It might show up there too…we’ll see.  Both sights are a bit of a work in progress.  I’m learning that’s what blogging is all about anyway, so I am now less concerned about it being perfect, and more concerned that the posts just get posted on a regular basis.

Okay, now, back to the subject at hand which is taming my wild mind. It is about the middle of July now and it is traditionally the time of the summer when teeny, tiny, pangs of panic start nipping at me like tiny pirahnas in my thought life.  No one can truly understand this, except another teacher.  Life doesn’t change dramatically twice a year for other professional people, except for stay-at-home parents (yes, they are professional people, they just don’t get paid with the traditional direct deposit paycheck into the bank account like others do), and for stay-at-home parents, the dynamic actually works in reverse.  You see, summer is not just a “vacation” for a teacher.  Summer is for recovery and strategic planning for the next school year.

Well, for most of us it is.

What most people don’t know about the teaching field and especially about elementary school teachers is that like every other job, there is far more that one is expected to do than one can possibly do in a day.  And, unlike, most positions, a teacher cannot really fake being ready for his/her job, because if she does, the students rebel.  Additionally, teachers have to do most of their preparation when kids are out of the classroom, which in my existing situation is only about two hours of my total day. That includes my lunch time (30 minutes) and one restroom break period of ten minutes each day.  That’s not a lot of time to plan and prepare materials and lessons for seven subjects every day.  I haven’t even mentioned about the time required to score papers and record grades, oh, and then there is regular communication to parents as well as schoolwide obligations one must tend to.  Most teachers, spend extra time doing this preparation over the summer, and at home during the shcool year and that’s if they aren’t so involved in leadership at the school level and can devote all their tiny prep time minutes each day to grading papers or recording grades.  This year, however, I am after eight years, changing grade levels.  This is not a small leap, like moving from 5th to 6th grade might be.  No, this is a quantum jump. 

I’m going from 1st grade to 4th grade. 

Now this might not be so bad, except that it gets complicated because of things going on at my school.  One of those things is the long awaited remodel.  Yes, this is a good thing.  The whole school is getting a much needed facelift.  Instead of the garish orange and brown colors of the 70″s we will be greeted by more trendy subdued colors in eggshell, blue and brickred, not all in the same room, I hope, but until I see it, anything could happen.  We will have new flooring and so on.  This meant that instead of packing up like we normally do, we had to box, everything up, clear out every cabinet, take everything off every wall and label every box.  It was a Herculean task, but we did it.  However, since we are remodeling and packing up completely, the administrator thought it would be a good time to reorganize our classrooms so that all rooms of a certain grade level were together instead of split up among three buildings.  So, most of us at the school, will end up in different classrooms in the fall. 

I am one of those who must move. 

Moving is okay, except that on top of setting up my instructional environment in a different location, I am also now having to address the needs of a different grade level.  That’s not so bad, I’ve taught this grade level before and did a fabulous job, but that was a long, long time ago in a land far, far away at a different school.  None of the students at this school know me as an intermediate teacher, they only have ever seen me as their first grade teacher.  Never mind that they beg me to go up to the next grade with them the next year, as most first graders do (which is why I love teaching first grade). But there is just so much to be done to prepare myself and my classroom for a top notch year for us all at 4th grade. 

But…there is always a but…I have so much I have to do on the home front as well.

Summer is also the time when teachers, who, like myself, have no life during the school year except, eating, breathing, teaching, parenting, laundry, eating, breathing, teaching, parenting, laundry, get caught up on things that have been neglected at home.  I’ve been slogging through my mental things to do list, but with all the inconsistencies in my days this summer, I feel I’m losing grip on my priorities.  So…while I hate publishing a personal to do list….since I don’t much read other people’s, I’m finding that it might be helpful for me to do right now for several reasons: 

• I need to organize my scattered, attention deficit thinking.
• I need to prioritize my goals and tasks.
• I need to motivate and hold myself accountable.

And, I’ve also heard that a written goal is more likely to be achieved than an unwritten goal.  So, here I am with my goals and tasks; my “To Do” list for the rest of the summer.  You can stop reading now if you like, but I need to do this for myself.

These are just some of the most pressing things I need to do around the house, not in any particular order.  Most are time sensitive so they take care of themselves by way of deadline.

1. Wash and clean out the car.
2. Get the spare tire checked and filled
3. Move the trailer out of the driveway
4. Make & post signs for the garage sale.
5. Get change to start the garage sale with.
6. Vacuum the pool.
7. Deal with the spa…it’s leaking and I must address that.
8. Fix the trellis that fell down in the back yard.
9. Spray the wasp nest on the back fence.
10. Show Rachel how to water the lawns.
11. Make a list of things to do for Rachel.
12. Revise chore charts for the other kids.
13. Have the garage sale.
14. Clean up after the garage sale — Nothing goes back into the garage!!!  It’s all Freecycled, Goodwilled, or dumped, if it isn’t sold of course.
15. Continue going through stuff that I can get rid off at the garage sale.  I only have two more days to do that.
16. Clean the house.
17. Do the laundry.
18. Mow lawns.  Hmmm, I might have to skip a week on this one. 
19. And I really wanted to paint my bedroom, but this might have to wait until Christmas break. 
20. Fix the electric fireplace in my bedroom. 
21. Fix the light fixture out the back garage door.
22. See what it is going to take to fix my garage door opener.
23. Schedule the chimney sweep.
24. Revisit the budget and financial plan.
25. Of course, make time to enjoy the kids, actually, this should be at the top of the list.
26. Scrounge enough wood to make it from mid-October to early April.  (Seriously, this saves me $400 in heating bills each month.  If you know someone who has burnable wood they need to get rid of….please, let me know.  Have trailer will load and haul myself!).

Okay, here’s what I have to do to get ready for school, not necessarily in this order:

1. Develop my weekly schedule.
2. Develop my year long plan.
3. Familiarize myself with the state standards for 4th grade and the assessment requirements.
4. Familiarize myself with the grade level curriculum.
5. Develop my management plan.
6. Develop my homework sytem, classroom organizational systems.
7. Prepare the two staff development courses I’ve been asked to teach.
8. Plan the first 7-10 days of school.
9. Prepare for Fall PBS 2nd year implementation
10. Prepare any needed weekly materials for publication in the Fall.

And, I want all of this done before I return to work on the 25th of August, because once that happens there is no time to just sit and think and dream about what it could look like…it is all implementation and hit-the-ground-running-at-mach 5-with-my-hair-on-fire then.  There’s no time for planning then, it is all doing at that point.

And, finally, the things I must do for me…and these worry me the most…because my motivation to do them is at an all time low. 

1. Get back into my regular workout routine which includes a serious weighlifting routine in addition to cardio, in short, get off my butt and get back into stellar shape.  Okay, I’d take excellent condition  at 24% body fat for starters.  My flexibility and agility also need improving.
2. Keep writing daily or a minimum of every other day. Maybe during the school year, I could allocate one weekend morning each week to do the writing for the week?
3. Stay connected with friends. This is sometimes tough to do since I can tend to be a hermit at times.  Seriously, I can enjoy being alone and just putzing around the house for long periods of time, but that only takes me so far and I have to mingle.
4. Continue reading a variety of genres and authors so I can continue to improve my writing.
5. Seek out additional streams of income.
6. Continue to clarify my vision for what I want my life to be like and how I want to be and grow and change.
7. Continue to explore and clarify my spirituality.
8. Become more informed and knowledgeable about social and  political issues (this could be the most difficult, because to really do this right takes time and diligence. Sigh.  I’m just feeling a need to get off the proverbial fence, but don’t trust any of the yards I might be jumping into. 
9. Take time to just enjoy my own personal space and place.  Sit by the fire and dream.
10. Learn to really cook decent.  Gak!  This is still on my list!!!  Haven’t made much progress here this summer.

Stop!  I’d better take a breath before I stress myself out even more.  Smile.  The truth is getting it out here where I can see what I’m pondering and hoping to accomplish really does help sort it all out.  It tames that wild mind of mine because I can see readily that much of what I’m agitated about is easily accomplished and moved off the plate to free up time and energy for the more difficult or involved tasks.  Putting it in print also helps me empty the wild mind so I can relax and focus on each item one at a time without worry that I will forget the rest in the process.  Finally, having it here, gives me access to refer back to it and see what I’ve accomplished, what I’ve decided not to pursue and it provides a record, of sorts, of my growth starting now.  Not a bad start in taming this particular wild mind which often, especially under stress refuses to comply.

It’s dark out…I mean it really is dark out here.  Several hours ago, about four, actually, just as I was sitting down to blast some words out in digital form, I heard the ominous thump and draining surge of the power going out.  We’d been experiencing power surges all week, but this time it was no surge.  This time it was for real. It occurred just as the sun was beginning to set.  You know, that time of evening when everything begins to take on that golden rosy glow of the setting sun.  It wasn’t quite dark enough to light the backyard fire pit, but we did anyway.  I mean, what else were we going to do?  The kids had just gotten out of the pool, there was no computer, t.v. or music to listen to.  I, personally, was more worried about how long the stuff in the fridge or the freezer would last, but that wasn’t quite what the kids were concerned about.  So…we started up the fire pit.  Never mind that it was still bloody hot outside, and even hotter inside since I’d not been running the air conditioner all day.

The kids helped themselves earlier in the day to the marshmallows so their marshmallow roasting event was short lived and ended in a scuffle between my two middle children about who should get the last marshmallow.  I don’t know how it resolved…I don’t care…I just know I was about ready to throw both of them into the fire if it didn’t resolve quickly and to my satisfaction…which means… they give me the marshmallow and no one gets hurt.  Since there were no electronic devices to amuse them, the kids had to talk to each other (wow! fancy that!).  Well, actually, I encouraged reading but that went over like a lead balloon.  They hopped in the hot tub and had a great little chat about all the really weird stuff kids in middle and high school like to talk about…you know…the opposite sex.  Well, I let them ramble on, most of it was harmless.  I mean, after all, they’re kids and I can’t control everything they decide to talk about.  Besides, I was engrossed in the fifth Harry Potter book after having finished the fourth one earlier today.  Even so, I kept most of my brain on Harry, but listened in on the conversation.  The kids rambled on and laughed and joked and eventually tired of the tub.  They got out, grabbed towels and came to join me over by the fire.  I think at one point the older girls went down the block to check on the progress of the utility folks working on the repair and to see if the neighbors had power back yet.  When they returned, we spent a good hour around the fire, just chilling. We solved no life problems but discussed many, the kids let me know how completely bored they were since the power was off and around ten, I ushered them off to bed.  Candles lit in the  various rooms lent a bit of a homey, old fashioned air to the place and I was reminded what it must have been like for pioneers of old, who had no electricity ever to work with.  Here my family and I were, going a little crazy just after a few hours.  We are such wimps, I thought. Do we have now, what it took then to do the unthinkable the way our forefathers who settled this country did?  I just don’t think we do.  We’ve grown soft.

The kids have been in bed for nearly ninety minutes now and the power just recently returned.  It is nice to have the fans back on, but I haven’t turned any lights on…hmmm, except the one in the hot tub.  The fire pit is still crackling nicely, popping every now and again.  I glance out at it as I type from my place here in the kitchen beside the slider to the back deck.  Other than the glow of my computer screen, the golden flames of the fire and the little tiny reflections in the window of the candles on the kitchen table, it is pitch black outside.  From my vantage point the spa light is unseen as is the moon in the sky overhead.  I love these nights.

All too soon these nights will fade into the cool crisp evenings of Fall, I will don more professional attire (meaning I will get out of my swimsuit and actually curl my hair and put on makeup) and head to work.  I will not be able to linger at my computer, or read by firelight well into the night as I’ve been doing this week.  I will not be able to wake up, stumble into the kitchen at the insanely late hour of 8 and begin making coffee.  I will not be able to spend time sitting with the power out listening to my growing children banter about the funny things they’ve done recently.  I am saddened by this reality.  Yet, I look forward to the new school year anyway.  I am committed to somehow finding a way to keep the summer tone and pace present in my home, my life and my heart even though the pace and the demands of a very hectic and full schedule will soon become like a tyrannical dictator pushing me at breakneck speed through each of my days.  How I will do it, I don’t yet know.  That I must do it, is certain.  Somehow, I must be able to capture the stillness, the serenity and the sweet relaxed warm ambiance and innocent humor of tonight and all these summer nights so that I can carry them with me throughout the year.  That, I think, in all the adustments I will need to make this fall, will be my biggest challenge. 

Until then, ahhhh, these lovely summer nights!

Well, I thought it would be a perfect time to update the world on the status of the car and the garage cleaning project and the single parenting project.  What?!  You didn’t know I was cleaning out my garage?  Yes, yes, I am.  I have been wanting to for over a year now, but couldn’t due to the fact that my attorney advised against getting rid of stuff until the divorce was final.  Well, the divorce has been final for well over six months and I am so ready to have my garage back.  Before marrying Ex #2, I had a Ford Aerostar XL van and a full set of free weights and cardio equipment that could fit in my garage.  And, I knew where everything was because I had everything labeled and neatly placed in boxes.  Well, that ended overnight when Ex #2 and his six kids moved in.  Now, I’m a teacher and I love kids, and there really aren’t any kids I’ve met that I didn’t like…only parents I thought who may have been failing their kids.  Sigh.  But these kids…these kids…ripped into other people’s things destroying them and leaving destruction in their wake.  And, of course, their father thought they were the best thing since sliced cheese.  I found myself thinking on several occasions that I was dangerously close to slicing his cheese if he didn’t do something about his kids.  He didn’t.  I didn’t want to get violent…so here I am…finally, after 7 years, rebuilding what little I have left that wasn’t destroyed and trying to sort out the mess.  On top of that, I’m attempting the one thing I hate doing above just about all else, preparing for a garage sale.  Sigh.  But it has been an adventure, even though the original need for having the sale has passed.  You see, I no longer need to get the Toyota fixed. 

“Oh!” You may exclaim, “That’s good!”  “No,” I would respond, “That’s bad.”  Then I would explain to you how my mechanic showed up at the door today, poked around with the car and began the diagnostics only to discover that it wasn’t a bad distributor as we both thought, but instead, a blown head gasket and bent somethings or others.  Essentially, my car is toast. What it would cost to get that work done is almost the same as the amount I originally paid on the car.  It doesn’t matter, I don’t have that kind of money hanging around anymore…remember, Ex #2 and his destruction in my life?  Well, the bank account definitely took it in the shorts for sure.  I no longer have those large Swiss bank accounts filled with a few bucks to fall back on that I used to have.  Stupid me.  But, again, as usual, I digress.  The car is toast.  Dead.  Laid to rest.  What is my first reaction?  Panic!  My second reaction?  Begin calling all the experts I know in my life. Thank God, these people qualify as dear friends. 

Call number one went to the wonderful benefactor who floated me the small loan to get the mechanic out here in the first place. We’ll call him Car Friend.  He is all things financially savvy and happens to work high up in management at a fairly noteworthy and reputable national car dealership company.  If anyone has his ear on the pulse of the auto sales industry this friend does.  Even better, he is one of those who can strategize for financial gain over the long haul.  Simply put, when it comes to money, he makes smart choices.  I trust this man’s information because, where he is concerned the proof is definitely in the pudding.  He usually doesn’t advise me to do anything he, himself wouldn’t do if in the same situation.  His advice, “The Toyota is toast. But the Durango is not good for you right now. Let’s get together when I get back into town and put all the pieces together and see if there isn’t a better car out there for you.”  Yeah, well, the likelihood of this happening isn’t huge, given my circumstances right now, but if anybody knows the in’s and out’s of making a miracle happen in car world…he does.  The good news here is that I did get to tell him I wasn’t going to need his loan after all. And no, we are not sleeping together. (How vile of you to even consider such a skanky thing!)  He is a dear friend and I admire and appreciate him greatly.   

Call number two came from a friend who made it possible for me to purchase a decadently beautiful used spa for a pittance. I call him the Spa Guy.  If you are looking for a spa for your home, I know the person to contact.  See me first before you buy, because you definitely need to see him! Not only that, he services the spa for me and keeps me informed on all things spa and pool related and accepts a pitifully small and sporadic payment arrangement in return. And no, we are not sleeping together either. (How doubly vile of you to even consider such a skanky thing!)  He is a dear friend and I appreciate him greatly.  Anyway, just as everything was kind of collapsing for me this morning (dealing with the bad news from the mechanic at the same time I was trying to clean out the garage and prepare for a garage sale) Spa Guy called me.  It was just a nice friendly call, but since he was there when the car broke down originally, I figured he had a right to know the latest.  So I told him the news.  I also told him I was planning to just put the car on Craigslist and see if I could get $500 out of it. He said, “Let me help you here.”  He always says that.  He is such a giving person.  I worry about him being taken to the cleaner by some ill-intentioned bimbo, but, hey, I’ve got enough on my plate to worry about so I can’t stress about that too.  But I do, because that is just how I feel about my friends.  (Definitely a topic for another blog, isn’t it?  How my friends in post-divorce-over-40-world have been my lifesavers time and time again.)  So, Spa Guy said he had a friend of the family who owed him money (yeah, sounds bad doesn’t it…but, no…it’s good).  Spa Guy’s friend happens to be dating spa guy’s daughter and is a mechanic and, well, to make a long story short, my precious Toyo is being picked up today to be hauled away for repairs.  I should have it back in a week.  Wow! 

But now about the garage and the impending garage sale.  Have you ever tried to clean a garage in an organized fashion and get four children ages 7 to 17 to help you?  It is not unlike herding cats, actually.  It all started out well, but self-motivation is an issue since the minute I stopped to talk to the mechanic they all stopped to play with stuff they haven’t seen in ages.  Then, what excitement when we uncovered the rat carcass.  It was a victim of the D-con we used two years ago (when Ex #2 and his filthy children and dogs terrorized my home, the rats followed them in).  So, after getting to that point, and seeing that cleaning that out was going to be a mess, I sent the two youngest ones in the house.  As they went in, my youngest was heard saying to her older brother, “What shall we name the dead rat?” There’s always an up side isn’t there?

In the end, isn’t life just like this car,garage, garage sale, dead rat carcass scenario I am dealing with? The situations we are often faced with really do suck, sometimes seem hopelessly impossible, and seem like they are never going to end.  (If you’re a single parent just that task can be overwhelming enough without homeownership problems and broken, sick cars.)  Believe me, I’ve had more than my share of sucky bad fortune this year so I know how easy it is to just want to give in to the bitterness and despair and just wallow in it. I am still convinced, though, even after this last disastrous year, that if we are careful to keep our eyes and ears open we will see the humor in the insanity and the love of friends around us.  It doesn’t make the tough times go away, but it does make them easier to get through.  Hey, it doesn’t get any better than that.

And, now, back to the garage.  With any luck, neighbors might have walked by and helped themselves to some things.

Today, 4th of July, 2008, was an interesting day.  It started out strangely enough with rain.  My children, three of them anyway spent the night out on the trampoline.  We roasted marshmallows in our backyard fire pit and the kids pulled out sleeping bags and crashed on the tramp.  At about 5:30 or 6 this morning, I heard the pitter patter of rain on the roof.  It didn’t go away, it soon became a bit of a downpour.  Thinking of the pillows and blankets the kids had pulled out to the backyard, I quickly ran out to try to awaken them.  Instead of grumpy, groggy eyed children, I found three cocoons.  The kids, instead of being awakened by the rain, had simply tucked their heads under the covers and refused to budge.  They didn’t seem to mind the rain and only until I came out and insisted upon their changing locations did they begin to groggily move in the direction of the house. 

The day was great.  A friend came in from out of town and I needed to scamble for a babysitter for an hour.  That’s no small feat on the 4th of July.  That all worked out but since we lost track of time talking about various home repairs we are currently involved in, it put me behind in getting ready for the evening’s plans and shopping for the raft trip I hope to go on tomorrow.    I ended up at my friends’ house tonight nearly an hour late.

My friends have a beautiful home they have renovated.  The place was such a dive they couldn’t get insurance on it at first.  It  is now a palace that sits midway up a hill overlooking the entire valley, except where the neighbors’ trees encroach on the view. We swam, dined on the most delectable gourmet barbecued hamburgers.  Their home is a haven and it really is a testament to the great things a couple can do when they really have a fine relationship.  These two have one of the best relationships I’ve ever witnessed and it is a pleasure every time to get together with them.  Tonight was no exception.  My daughter and I were treated as royalty and the evening zipped by all too quickly.  After dinner, we sat out on the patio, overlooking the valley, lit sparklers and watched the fireworks displays of all the surrounding communities while listening to a wide array of musical genres.  As always, I left there feeling like I’d been dreaming the entire time. 

As I was driving home I realized that the hose I put in the hot tub tonight before I left was still in the hot tub and still pumping water into the hot tub.  I groaned inwardly at the thought of the disastrous overfilled hot tub that awaited me upon my return.  This is the trend for me lately, it seems.  Experiences of exquisite bliss followed by complete and total disaster. 

I rushed into the house after hustling my daughter in and unloading all our things.  It was as I feared.  The spa was overfilled and the deck was completely flooded.  ”Well,”  I sighed silently to myself, “At least I’ve done this so many times before, I know what to do now.”  And so I took immediate measures to drain the spa, stop the water flow, get my daughter to bed and make sure nothing was permanently damaged.  ”It will all dry in tomorrow’s heat,”  I thought to myself.  And it will.  It was a momentary concern, but certainly nothing worth giving any more energy to than that.

The spa is drained to an appropriate level, the car is unloaded and the youngest is crashed sound asleep in my bed.  We had a wonderful evening with friends that we love dearly and who love us in return.  We didn’t just see one fireworks display we saw many.  I’m telling you, I see why they call the 4th of July Summer’s Happiest Holiday.  It was certainly that for the two of us.