D is for Daddy

 My father, or Daddy as I called him, passed away 12 years ago this week. He was a good man and is missed every day. He was an avid gardener, and since the garden season is upon us, I thought I would rerun this post about his gardening. 

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Daddy's Garden

For most of my life, I watched my father's garden, and I learned a lot about life as I observed him adjust to the ever-changing world around him. 

He usually had an acre or more of vegetables growing every year, and I watched as he spent hours and hours, days and days, and weeks and weeks planting the garden. He'd plant 20 rows of corn, and the crows would eat 20 rows of corn. He'd plant beans, and the rabbits would feast on the leaves. He'd plant tomatoes, and the groundhogs would take one bite out of each. And the deer—they liked EVERYTHING in the garden. 

So he put up an electric fence. That worked except for the things that could go under it, like the rabbits. Then he put up a chicken wire fence inside the electric fence to keep those critters out. And that worked except for the creatures that burrowed under the fence like groundhogs. So, he buried fencing a foot underground, which worked for the digging critters. Now, all he had left were the flying creatures. So, he put up scarecrows and shiny streamers, and that sort of worked, except for the wild turkeys. And turkeys are like the deer in that they like EVERYTHING in the garden. Turkeys are really smart, and for several years, the turkeys did more damage to his garden than all the other animals combined.

But yet he kept on. He would plant and plant again. He would hoe a row, and he would weed a row. He would stake the tomatoes and build teepees for the beans. He would fertilize, and he would carry water. And along about the middle of summer, the first of the bounty would need to be picked and picked and picked. And my father was happy. 

As time passed and the kids moved away from home, my father planted his huge gardens. He gave away most of what he grew, but he was happy. My mother finally convinced him that maybe the two of them didn't need such a large garden. It was hard, but he cut back. He adjusted just as he had when the crows ate all of his corn. And then, because of failing health, he had to move to a nursing home, and he was not sure if there would be a place to plant a garden where he was. However, he adjusted, and he was happy.

When I grow up, I want to be like my father and his gardens. I want to do things when they need to be done, just like my father did when he had to water his plants when they needed it, not just when he felt like it. I want to keep working on anything important until I get results, just like my father did when he had to plant his corn again and again. I want to adjust to changing situations just like my father did when he had to downsize his garden. And most of all, I want to find a way to be happy in any situation, just as my father did when he had to leave his garden and couldn't live at home any more.

Note: My father passed away two months after I wrote this.

Until next time...

C is for Cooking

I'm not into cooking. It's like laundry. I don't mind doing it, but it's not my first choice of something to do. It's just another necessary part of everyday life. I know some people, like my brother-in-law, find it relaxing. Others find it creative. And some cook so they can eat well. That would be my son, Theo. 

Theo approaches cooking like almost everything else he does. He studies it and has learned to cook beyond the skills I taught him. He understands spice blends and flavor combos better than I do, and he can tell you the science behind cooking techniques. That's why I'm so happy that we have recently started having a weekly cooking session together. We meet on one of his days off and do a large batch of something we split to have for the next few days. While Ward and I enjoy having a fridge stocked with ready-made meals, the best part is spending time with Theo. It actually makes me look forward to spending time in the kitchen. 😀

Below are a few of the things we've done so far. Sometimes, I remembered to take a picture, but sometimes not.

Today, we made cabbage roll soup. Theo's pot had more hot pepper in it than mine did.

Last week, it was chicken enchilada casserole.

This was the second time we made chili.

This day, we had teraki salmon. All of the sides had a Chinese flavor palette. That was Theo's doing. He thinks about those kinds of things more than I do.

I didn't get a picture, but Theo borrowed our slow cooker and cooked two pot roasts and veggies another time. I made a fruit salad to share. 

Cooking with Theo first started when we were discussing chili recipes and decided to make it together to nail down a recipe. It just kind of evolved from there, but I'm so happy it did.

Until next time...

B is for Blogging

This month marks my 14th anniversary of blogging. When I started, I wasn't quite sure what a blog was, but a friend encouraged me to start one to share some of the stories I had told her. As it turned out, the stories I thought I would be telling were not mine to tell, so I wasn't quite sure how to proceed. 

But I kept writing anyway, trying all kinds of things, hoping to find my voice. Sometimes, I wrote something meaningful, and other times, I felt like I had nothing to say. But I had made friends over the years, and this blog is where I visited with them, so I started Speed Blogging—meaning I'd set a timer (usually 15 minutes) and write for that long about whatever. When that was done, I was done. 

Some day, I am going to revamp and update my blog, but until then it will be my little place to share my thoughts and visit with friends.

But until then, below is my first post --the post that started it all.

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Sunday, April 17, 2011

What's in a name?

I've been toying with writing a blog for a while now and decided it was time to put my thoughts into action. It all seemed so simple. Use one of the free blog sites and start writing. But wait, what was it going to be about, and what would I call it? My kids advised me that I needed a subject, or it would be nothing more than an online journal. Well, since I'm not that knowledgeable or passionate about any one subject, I decided that it would be personal reflections. My idea was to make comments about things I experience or see around me that other people may be able to relate to. Now, what to name it. It's not as easy as it would seem. With the millions of blogs out there, there's not much left to choose from.

My first idea was Observations of an Everyday Boring life. However, it was suggested that I don't need to tell people ahead of time that my life is often boring. Next, I played with Run of the Mill, Matter of Fact, and So on and So Forth. All taken. Next was Watching paint Dry, but that was taken also with actual web cams set up to watch paint dry. How about Dull as Dishwater?  Maybe that was giving too much away ahead of time again. (BTW, the original phrase was supposedly "Dull as Ditch Water.") 

I was going to have to get creative. The family started brainstorming. Running with safety scissors and Your guess is as good as mine. Taken. My personal favorite was one I thought up- Lend me your nose. A play on Lend me your ear but using nose indicating that you should Take time to stop and smell the roses. 

After several more hours of deep thought, I settled on Live and Learn-Toss and Turn. This title is supposed to indicate that no matter what happens to us, we can always learn from it, and the unknown can still be a little scary and cause us to toss and turn. Or maybe the title just means, that I was really tired and the rhyming of the words seemed good enough. This morning, my son asked me what name I came up with, and after I told him, he replied, "Well, it's not as bad as I thought it would be." I don't think I will ever be able to live down, "Lend me your nose."

Until next time...

A is for A-Z Challenge

EEK! How did that happen? I have been toying with the idea of doing the A-Z Challenge, and now it's already April, and time for it to begin. The A-Z Challenge is a blogging challenge to post every day in April, except Sundays, with each post related to a letter of the alphabet. There are 26 days in April without Sundays, so it works out nicely. 

I've done this challenge a few times in the past and have a love/hate relationship with it. I find posting daily arduous, but I am often more creative when I have a deadline every day. So, I guess I'll give it a go for a couple of weeks anyway. I'll be traveling at the end of the month with unpredictable internet, so I may pick the challenge up in May, where I leave off. If I had been coordinated, I would already have my posts ready. But that didn't happen. 

People often post with a theme, and I tried that once but didn't find it any easier than random topics. I've been toying with the idea of looking through the Wayback Machine and reposting things from the past. I've been casually blogging for 14 years, so it could be interesting to take some trips down memory lane. And if past experience with this challenge has taught me anything, I never end up where I thought I was going to go.

So, without further ado, let the challenge begin.

Until next time...

Don't Shoot the Messenger

I heard a story recently that disturbed me. A young family we know was Swatted. I wasn't familiar with Swatting, but Ward says it's been around for a long time. It involves making a false 911 call about a dangerous disturbance at someone's house. That activates a heavily armed police response, often a SWAT team. It has been deadly at times, with the homeowners shooting what they think are intruders invading their homes in the middle of the night. The SWAT team fires back, shooting to kill. The Swatting call is meant to harass and intimidate.

Both parents were at work, and the babysitter was home with the toddler when the police arrived. They were responding to a call about loud arguing at the house that sounded dangerous. When the police arrived, the house was quiet, so luckily, they didn't break down the door. They asked to come in. However, the babysitter, a newly arrived au pair from South America, wouldn't open the door until she called the mother and asked what to do. (By the way, everyone is happy how the babysitter protected the child and just didn't let the police in until she was sure it was safe.) The mother said to let them. They did a complete search of the house, found nothing, and left.

I guess you could say that all's well that ends well, except for the emotional trauma caused by the whole incident. I can only imagine how terrified the au pair was and how unsettling it was for the family to think about someone wanting to Swat them.

An investigation is underway, but no one knows who made the call or why. The father is in law enforcement, so maybe someone didn't like what he stands for. Or maybe someone thought the au pair was an illegal alien. 

This is another example of the shoot-the-messenger mentality. Too often these days, people's anger is directed at the messenger, not the real cause of their anger. And they don't think about all of the innocent people they hurt along the way with their "protests". There are many examples I could give of this, but I think I'll end now before this post gets too political. But it all makes me upset.