Grandma's Flowers

Today is the day I had slated to buy flowers.  Of course it is 50 degrees outside, and was pouring cats and dogs when I got to the store.  I did some other shopping to kill time, and the rain had lessened a bit by the time I finished, so I zipped up my green rain jacket, put on my hood (and my big girl panties) and went out to play in the rain/flowers/muck.

No red geraniums.  Boo.  I don't want pink ones.

I guess I will get wave petunia, because they will cover some ground, and that's what I need.  What to buy?  I don't want purple, there's enough purple/pink when the garden is in full bloom.  Wait!  Look!  They have the striped ones that The Brown Eyed Man talks about!  They are white and (sigh) purple, but they are the only flower he has ever mentioned liking.  I always ask, and he never has a preference, except for once.  One time he mentioned that his Grandma (whom he was extremely close to) had this kind of flower in her garden.  I never come across them, and today there was just one lonely pack sitting on the sopping wet shelf.  It's is now in my sopping wet back yard, waiting to be planted!

My Grandma also had these striped petunia in her flower beds that ran along one side, and across half the front of her house. I never thought they were anything special.  She had them, some geranium, marigold, and always yellow snap dragon.  Those were my favorite of hers, and after I snagged the striped petunia I turned the corner and there they were.  Yellow snap dragon!  So of course I now have some of those too.

Grandma Meys lived right next door to us, while I was growing up.  My Dad planted those gardens, watered those gardens, and he (or his children) weeded them.  My Grandma was very sickly, she probably got out of the house and saw those flowers three or four times a summer, but every year she had her flowers.

One of my most vivid memories is of the yellow snap dragon.  Hot, hot summer day, barefoot through the cool grass, sneaking over to Grandma's flower garden.  Hearing the loud hum of the ancient behemoth air conditioner, and the splat, splat, splat, of water dripping off of it onto the sidewalk.  The rough concrete of the sidewalk against my bare legs as I knelt down to pinch the flower.  I could sit quietly for ten minutes, just pinching a snapdragon open and closed.  Well, I had to be quiet.  In no way, shape, or form was I supposed to be messing with those flowers!  :)

This afternoon, when I finished gathering up flowers I headed back inside to make my purchase.  Yes, I was soaked.  There was an older gent checking out and he just stared at me and smiled.  I gave him the stink eye from under my hood, and he burst out laughing.  I took off the hood, laughed, and said "Well, today is the day I had planned on buying flowers.  You know how time is."  He said, "Yep, yep I do!  I just hope you don't have to plant them!"  "No sir," I replied. "That's tomorrow."  We laughed again.  The young cashier looked at us like we were nuts.  He did go and get me a box for the muddy mess of plants though.

Someday, when you're older sonny, you'll understand time management.  I have other things to do with the little free time I have while I'm in town this week.  This was my early day, and my day to enjoy flower shopping.  Rain or shine (sleet, snow, etc), today was the day.  I am behind on my gardens because of issues we are having with a bear.  Planting time last weekend was taken up with erecting a fence around the veggie garden, to keep out whatever is stealing things (bear or squirrel), and then the next time I started I was chased away by thunder storms.

A little water never hurt anyone.  As my Mother used to say, "You wont melt.  You aren't that sweet."

I hope he enjoys the striped petunia, as much as I enjoyed finding them!   ♥

Just Thinking......

Today would be my twentieth anniversary.  It has been on my mind a lot.  What would I tell that young woman if I could somehow go back in time?  Would I try and talk her out of it?  She is me, so..............yeah.  She wouldn't have listened.

I shed a tear today.  Just one.  A tear for that young woman, who had no way of knowing that co-dependency is NOT love. For all the times she gave everything, to get nothing in return.

A tear for all those dear to me who were alive then, and no longer with us.  So many.

Would I change it if I could?  Probably not.  Mostly because to get to where I am now, I had to go through it.  Jaded?  Oh yeah.  Wiser? Much.  I know that I gained much more than I lost.

Through these twenty years so many new people have come into my life.  Some stayed, some were just passing through, but many of them wouldn't have been there at all if my life hadn't changed.

I thought today about the people who've stayed.   My family. The babies that were born, and the man who drives me crazy. ♥ The friends who are new, and those who have been here the whole time.  I thought about every way my life has improved, and how I have been able to share that, and even help some other women who were struggling......... and I smiled.

Spite Pizza

I saw an article on Facebook the other day that said, "Aggravation is a sign of a healthy relationship."  I laughed out loud, and read it to the Brown Eyed man.  It went on to say that aggravation is a sign that you are comfortable with the person you are involved with.  I took it to mean that ME being aggravated with HIM means that I am comfortable, so I stated that I certainly must be comfy in this relationship.

Reading a little farther it became clear that it is the person doing the aggravating who is the comfortable one.  Which makes a lot more sense.  So then he had the laugh, and continues to tell me how comfortable he is with me.  (How aggravating.)

Me: If you want some buttered bread with the tater tot hot dish, it's on the island.
L: I don't want any butter.  I already got yelled at about butter once today.
Me: *glare* well, not only did you leave the empty container in the fridge, you ALSO left the butter on the counter in the paper, not in the dish.  So there.  You got yelled at twice.
L: It's ok.  I don't listen to you anyway.  *grin*
Me: This is not a surprise.
L: I'm so comfortable with you baby..........

A little later in the evening we were discussing him being off today, and what was available to eat.  I mentioned several things.

L: There's pizza in the freezer.
Me: Stay out of it.
L: Why?
Me: It's for dinner on Tuesday.
L: Why do you have to buy things in advance?  (he prefers the hunt and forage on a daily basis method)
Me: If you eat that freaking pizza YOU are buying another one, or you can go hungry on Tuesday.

So I go merrily off to work today.  When I arrived home and opened up the door I saw a paper plate on the living room floor, (because the dog gets to lick the plate) and I knew it.  I looked and saw the toaster oven door hanging open, and I knew it.  I saw the garbage still on the island, and I knew it.  

Me: Why did you eat that pizza?
L: *grins* I don't know.  I ate the hot dish, and I ate the soup.
Me: And you still needed to eat half a pizza.
L: I guess so.
Me: You did that out of spite.
L: No............
Me: You did too.  It is spite pizza.
L:  (just looks at me)
Me: (Picks up a piece, takes a bite, tips head as if thinking, glares at him) Yep, tastes like spite to me!

Much laughter, although I would like to wring his neck.

Dinner for me tonight is spite pizza.  Dinner tonight for him?  Guess he will have to hunt and forage. ♥

HAIR!

Last week I went to the doctor for a work physical.  That in itself is a whole story, but today we are going to discuss something else.  Our society's obsession with coloring hair.

I have written a few blogs about this in the past, but I can't find the links at the moment.  I have almost 500 posts now, so if the title doesn't give the topic away, forget it.  ;)

When I first started writing about this subject I still colored my hair, but knew a few women my age who decided to stop and just let nature take it's course.  My opinion at the time was (and still is) to each his own.

A few years later I decided to stop coloring mine, because it is a pain in the rear end.  I'm not paying someone fifty dollars to do it every six weeks when the color in the box at the store lasts just as long.  I'm not wasting an hour of my life every six weeks either.  So there you go.  I was also curious as to what my "real" hair color looked like after all this time.  Although the shade I colored it was pretty close to the shade I was born with.

My Mom was salt and pepper for most of my memories of her, and I remember things back to about the age of three.  She dyed her hair when Bumpy (David) went to Kindergarten, and it turned an awful orange color.  Her children asked her not to do that again, and she didn't.  It just wasn't Ruthie.  She would have been about the age I am now, and I suppose with all those young Mom's running around, you would rather look like a Mom than a Grandma.  If that's the case, then more power to you.  Whatever works for you, works for you.

It doesn't work for me.

That brings us to last Tuesday morning at the Superior Clinic.  I was registering, and the gal needed my drivers license.  She took a look at it and said "Wow, your hair is so much darker in this picture."  "That's because I stopped coloring it." I innocently replied.  There were three ladies who were all my age or older working in reception, and, as if on cue, their necks all snapped around to immediately gawk at me.

I just gave them my best Ruthie smile.  Step right up to see the freak of nature ladies........  Because I am me I almost told them to take a picture, and then chalked it up to their own insecurities and grinned a little wider.

Yes, my hair is gray.  Well technically it's brown, red, blond, and gray.  Mostly gray now, and incidentally the longest it has ever been.  We don't have to have a conversation about it every time I see you.  I am aware that it is gray, it's my choice.  You also don't have to explain to me why you color yours.  That's your choice, and I didn't even ask you anyway.  To each his own.  If I didn't like the way my hair looked I would do something about it.

Sledding fun with Jacob

Many of the girls I graduated with are Grandma's now, so I am of the age.  I did have someone ask me if "those are your Grandchildren", and I was offended.  Not because they were assuming it because of my hair color, but because the children in question are straight from hell.  They aren't my Goovers, or my preschoolers.  No kids of "mine" would behave that way in public. I was watching them for their Mother for a few minutes.

If the spirit moves me I shall cut all my hair and dye what's left of it pink.  Because I can.  That's what is great about being a woman in this day and age.  We have much more important things to worry about, at least I do.  I drove by an old church for sale today, and thought maybe I should buy it and start my own religion.  I probably laughed my grey head off for a mile after that.  ;)  I will call it "Our Lady of Gray".  

Goover Sliding Sleepover!

Tater at the top, Hannah at the bottom

Almost two weeks ago now the Goovs came over to slide down the big hill, and sleep over!  It was right before the cold snap hit, and the weather was perfect!  We also had a bon fire with all the boxes I had laying around here.  We tried several spots on the hill, and this one turned out to be the best.  The one the girls usually use can end in the creek, and it wasn't frozen over.  You could still see water running.  (that isn't the case anymore)

Jacob had to get in on the action too!  Along with Auntie.  I had a blast!

 After we were finished sliding, and burning things, we headed in to warm up, and the girls helped me start dinner.  Nachos, tacos, and hot chocolate.  Hannah got to grind a whole batch of coffee beans for me, because I bought the wrong bag. (again) That was a bonus for her, because she just loves to grind the beans.

Queso!

Tater helped get the cheese ready for the nachos.  It's so nice to have helpers in the kitchen!  After dinner we all snuggled up and watched one of the Harry Potter movies.  Then the girls and I finished watching "Annie" before bed.  Uncle Brown Eyed Man isn't into musicals. ;)

The girls also got to set up several new bird feeders that  their Uncle won as a prize at our family Christmas party.  He  could have traded them, but he kept them so the Goovs could set up their own feeders at our house.  (big softy)

The Grinder

Tater: Uncle Leon knows everything, and anyone who doesn't think so is OBVIOUSLY wrong.

She knows where her bread is buttered.  ♥  Fun weekend!