One Foot on a Banana Peel

Man, I wish I had a video camera or at least a working digital camera to record the puppies’ training process with the new invisible fence.  When faced with an electric charge, they are neither as stubborn or as dumb as I’d given them credit for.  According to the training manual, convincing them to stay in the yard when off the leash should be a two week process.  It would appear that a mere 3 trips out into the yard has convinced Elvis and Scooby.  In fact, the bigger issue seems to be convincing Elvis that it is okay to even come outside.  At least, I don’t have to worry about them running away any more.

I love books.  If you’ve been with me for any amount of time you know this.  I like new books and used books and antique books and I will read any genre.  Garage sales and auctions with their boxes of old books draw me like a moth to a lightbulb and the library has rows of old books lined up that I must pass through on my way into and out of the place.  These books are a mere 50 cents and I have found some real treasures over the years.  On my last visit I found the book I’m currently reading, Simple Living-One Couple’s Search for a Better Life by Frank Levering and Wanda Urbanska.  I read a lot of books like theirs in my quest for a more simple (and frugal) life.  This morning I read something that I think captures the "rat race" better than anything else I’ve read: "Money, we imagine, offers the freedom, contentment, and respect we crave.  Spending it, we discover that what was new and better is soon old and inferior.  To stay in the race, it’s soon time for another purchase, time to discard what we haven’t long possessed.  Rather than acting of our own free will, we’re making passive, predictable decisions.  Rather than being comfortable with what we own and who we are, we become restless captives to a vicious cycle of earning enough bucks to buy what we think we want."

Thoughts?

Good grief, it’s hot!  Even at 11:00 at night it’s still 80 degrees.  I think the air conditioner has run nearly nonstop all day.  A perfect day for Tim to spend several hours in the sun burying the wire for the new invisible fence system, don’t you think?  I told him he was nuts.  He didn’t listen.  At least the fence is installed and I can start training the dogs tomorrow.  I hope they are trainable.  I’m tired of chasing them all over the neighborhood when they get loose.

The picnic at our friends’ farm yesterday was pretty cool.  My mom and her husband even went and miracle of miracles, Mom didn’t embarass me.  She can be pretty snooty and judgemental and sometimes a lot of the time she is pretty vocal about it.  Megan took a girlfriend with her and they had a ball catching frogs and snails in the pond.  My baby is not a girly girl.  We left around 10:00, just as the bonfire was getting started.  We would have stayed longer, but leave it to me to get stung by a wasp in the dark.  I haven’t been stung in over 25 years and the last time I had an allergic reaction.  To be safe, they loaded me up with Benadryl right away.  My finger swelled up a good bit and the Benadryl made me loopy, but otherwise I was okay.  I just needed to come home and sleep off the drugs.

My Avon shipment finally came Friday afternoon.  No wonder it was so late.  They shipped it through some rinky-dink company I’ve never heard of.  Anyway, got the orders delivered that afternoon and Megan took brochures around Saturday morning for me.  I thought selling might be tough, but orders are coming in with very little effort.  I’m not satisfied with that, though.  I’ve been reading all their training literature and pump-you-up-to-be-a-lean-mean-selling-recruiting-machine success stories.  I want me a piece of that pie.

Hey, I’m off to bed.  I have to get up tomorrow and deal with a ton of blueberries.  Megan and I went up to my mom and John’s place on the ridge Friday night and picked for a couple of hours.  I don’t know what I’m going to do with them all.  Probably freeze a bunch for now.  We’re going to pick more later this week and next week Mom and John will be on vacation so we can pick all we want.  I’m not a big fan of them baked, but I do love them on my cereal or whipped into a smoothie or in my lemon yogurt.  I try to eat about 1/2 cup a day since they are, according to medical science, the miracle fruit.

Blinkie by LilMsGlitter

It’s finally Friday.  Woot.  I can’t for the life of me think why I find this exciting in any way.  During the summer all the days are pretty much the same since I’m on the same schedule as the schools and don’t work.  Add to that Tim’s workaholism, which means he is rarely home on a Saturday and Sundays are up for debate.  And it’s all just one giant party for Megan.  She runs with the neighborhood pack all day long except for those brief moments when her wicked mother makes her do an actual chore (the horror of it!) or pick up a book and read.  I mean, like, really….don’t I know it’s summer?  Summer is for fun, not chores and books.  Well, damn!  Someone forgot to tell me.  I’ve been whiling away the days doing laundry, training puppies, supervising hordes of swimming pre-teens, shoving cotton in my ears during sleepovers, feeding the hordes, cleaning up after them, swatting off mosquito-esque attempts to bleed more money out of me and just lolling around living the high life in general.  At least there is a big party to go to at our friends’ farm tomorrow.  And yes, Tim is going.  He’s just working half a day first.

So far, Avon is making it rather tough to be successful in my new side-profession.  Everyone assured me that if I ordered on time on the specified Friday, my order would be here by the following Wednesday.  It’s Friday.  I haven’t seen it yet and it has indeed been shipped.  Meanwhile I keep getting my catalogs late so any potential customers don’t have very long to look at them.  I am hoping that if this shipment ever gets here with the next batch of catalogs (that aren’t due for a while) that maybe I’ll finally be able to get on track.  I’m not expecting to zoom right to the top of the sales ladder and become an Avon executive or anything, but I’d like to pick up a couple of hundred dollars a month extra.  Enough to keep gas in my car, maybe? Or pay for my own Avon order. The cheaper price I pay on my own stuff makes it a good way to pick up gifts.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned any time in recent memory, either on my old blog, and definitely not here, how much I long for a simpler, pared down existence.  One that allows time to enjoy life, not merely acquire its trappings.  One that is way, way, waaaaaaay less expensive.  Anyone I’ve talked to who is "living the dream" tells me that I don’t have to pack up and move to some unheard of pin prick on the map to simplify.  They say I can do a lot right here.  Well, maybe to some extent I can, but I’m struggling with 4 things; Tim, Matt, Megan and the suburban have-it-all influence on them.

On the whole, Tim is not too bad.  He doesn’t spend a lot out of pocket.  It’s those big things with him.  He’s a member of the instant gratification club.  When he decides he wants something, he wants it now.  There’s no saving, no comparing prices, no checking to see if our finances can actually bear it.  There is, however, much grumbling later when we are feeling the pinch.

Matthew thinks nothing of calling and asking us to drop everything and drive to his apartment when he needs something.  Hello!  Gas is $3 a gallon.  Does the kid not notice he’s running out of food before he’s actually totally out?  A call a couple of days earlier would allow me to mail him some money.  Then there is the whole car thing.  For some reason (probably because it seems to be how it is with all his friends) Matt thinks we owe him a car and it’s been suggested flat-out stated that we are screwing up his entire future by not buying him a car.  For something that he wants soooo much, it’s never once crossed his mind to try saving up some money himself.  To let you in on a (sort of) secret, we plan to buy him a car at Christmas with Tim’s bonus.  We just want him to show some kind of responsibility.  When he got his current job back in April we told him if he would pay for his share of the insurance premium each month we’d get him a car.  I wanted to see him succeed so I grossly underestimated his portion and told him $50 a month would take care of it.  He has made exactly one payment.  To say I am disappointed would be an understatement.

Then there is Megan.  I’ve just about given up on her.  She has bought into the consumer mentality, heart, mind and soul.  We sit her down and talk to her about how she cannot do every single thing she wants to do, nor buy every single thing she wants.  She nods and tells us she understands then comes back in five minutes asking for money.  She has this idea that she should do everything that each one of her friends does. When she does tell them she can’t do something, they want to know why and Megan feels compelled to tell them that we don’t have the money.  Sheeesh!  Sometimes that is true, but usually it’s just that I think enough is enough.  Our neighbors probably think we are living below the poverty level since my child doesn’t get to do everything. 

And this is where our suburban neighborhood comes into play.  There are a lot of kids in the neighborhood and every one of them has a "gimme, gimme" attitude.  They do not take "no" for an answer from their own parents or anyone else’s.  A no from one’s own parents results in the most amazing display of whining, begging, pleading, grandios promises, deals and outright tantrums you have ever seen.  A no from someone else’s parents results in pressuring the kid in question to enter into the most amazing display of whining, begging, pleading, grandios promises, deals and outright tantrums you have ever seen in an effort to wear said parent down to a "yes."  Sadly, it works all too often, because we parents can’t take it any more.

I really need to move to the boonies.

Well, this has turned out to be a rather grumpy post.  Can I blame it on the rainy, gloomy day?

Megan is the big 1-4 today.

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I am NOT an organized person by nature.  In fact, I’m pretty sure after dealing with two kids who have diagnosed A.D.D., that I have a mild form of it myself.  My son’s behavior mirrors my own to a great extent, so putting two and two together….

That’s why I am so excited about the organizer I bought today.  It’s called Amy Knapp’s Family Organizer.  It has weekly and monthly planning grids, inspirational quotes (I need all the inspiration I can get), weekly menu and grocery planning with perforated list.  It also has stickers to flag birthdays, vacations, payday, anniversaries, school holidays, medical appointments and more.  There is a 2008 planning calendar, room for notes, a budget planner, an info sheet for baby-sitters, a page for info on your children’s activities,  one for your activities, a section for addresses, and one for web addresses and logins.  There’s even a section of tips to help you get the most out of the organizer.

Man, I am going to be sooooo organized and things around here are going to go so smoothly you’ll be calling me Ex-lax.

I found this recipe in a cookbook from Gooseberry Patch and made it for my family reunion yesterday.  I, myself, don’t like wings at all, but these were super easy and they got rave reviews from all my wing-loving cousins.

HONEY-GARLIC CHICKEN WINGS

3 lbs. chicken wings, cleaned and halved

salt & pepper to taste

1 cup honey

1/2 cup soy sauce

2 Tablespoons oil

2 Tablespoons catsup

1 clove garlic, minced

Sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper.  In a mixing bowl, combine remaining ingredients and mix well.  Place chicken in a 4-quart slow cooker and pour sauce over.  Cook on low for 6 to 8 hours.  Makes 8 to 12 servings.

My house smells wonderful….if you like honey garlic wings.  I don’t, but I’m making the big crockpot full of them to take to my family reunion today.  I figure they’ll be a big hit there and if not, Tim will be more than happy to take care of the leftovers.  I’m also taking a wonderful salad that includes crumbled bacon, red onions, mandarin oranges, almonds and a homemade vinegarette.  All this effort for something I don’t even want to go to.  So, why go?  It’s a long story.

This is my dad’s family.  My dad was not my biological father, but he did adopt me and never treated me as anything but his own…as did his family.  The thing is, Dad didn’t really keep in close contact with his cousins over the years.  We did some things with them when I was really young, but over the years it was mostly a once a year at the reunion kind of thing.  Add to this the fact that my dad was 16 years older than my mom and it makes him nearly two generations older than me, rather than one.  There are precious few cousins my age who bother to come to the reunion.  We are all so far flung and didn’t grow up knowing each other so we have zero desire to see each other.  I have even less desire because the main topic is geneology and I don’t actually share any blood with these people.  They are not where I came from, but where I ended up.  The reunion is mainly for those of my dad’s generation (and those of us they can nag/guilt into going), which means the average age is close to 80 these days.  So, why, you’re still asking, am I going?

The answer is: my Aunt Peg.  She is my dad’s only sister and has been more like a grandmother to me.  To her, I am my dad’s daughter.  End of story.  I am the one she tells the family stories to because her own sons and grandchildren don’t care and don’t have enough compassion to at least act like they care about something that means so much to her (she is the family’s geneologist and has tracked all the branches of the family on her own).  I am the one she passes family heirlooms on to because her own children would sell them just to get rid of them.  There is not a sentimental bone in their bodies.  My children run errands for her, fetch her mail every day, call her, help her out and care and worry about her, while she rarely hears from her own grandchildren.  Visiting her is one of the very first things my son does when he comes home on break from school.  In short, she’s important to us and doing this one thing makes her very happy.  And it’s not such a big thing, really.  Even my mom, who has remarried, still goes and helps to run the thing, though she is not close to the cousins and her husband hates going, because it matters to my aunt.  Aunt Peg is 81 so she isn’t going to be with us that much longer.  I can stick it out that long.  Besides, she is the driving force behind the reunions which have been going on for over 100 years now.  I have a feeling that the reunion will die with her.  Mom and I can’t imagine anyone else taking it on.

It’s a typical Saturday morning, which means Tim’s at work, Megan spent the night at a friend’s, and I’m home alone.  I was going to drive over to the big farmers’ market in Ligonier and take advantage of being able to browse in peace at my own speed, but the (always accurate) weather person is telling me rain is imminent.  So, instead, I’ve trolled around the blogosphere while eating my bowl of Sugar Smacks and blueberries.  I found a couple of posts I’m passing on for your reading pleasure (read as, "I don’t have a thing to say myself today").

Fortyish is Fab is lamenting having nothing to wear because her wardrobe resembles her teenage daughter’s.  It’s time for a more mature look.  Read about her solution.

Mamacita offers a link to celebrity mug shots.

Miss Cellania is taking a look at all things chicken today.  Expect funny cartoons, jokes and entertaining links about one of my favorite birds.

Rachel over at Precipitation lives in New Zealand and has a friend who is getting ready to move to the U.S. for several months.  Friends are sending him off with a party featuring American food.  Rachel is looking for suggestions (and recipes) for 100% American dishes.

Moral obligations and the eternal struggle between the "Haves" and "Have-Nots" is the topic with Laurie over at Stranded in Suburbia.  Find links to several thought-provoking articles.

Mel, The Amazing Shrinking Mom, shares her weight-loss journey and encourages others.  Dieting yourself (I am)….try joining the ranks of Mel’s Diet Naked group.

Finally, White Trash Mom shares an hilarious look at the differences between sitting in the front pew and the back pew at church.  Share your own experiences in the comments.

RESPONSIBLE "PET" OWNERSHIP  No, I’m not going to lecture you on making sure Fido has plenty of fresh water and shade during the these dog-days of summer (though, it’s a good idea) or tell you not to bring him along when you run errands and then leave him in the car.  I only have good, caring readers and I know you’d never do that.

What I am going to lecture on is the danger of keeping exotic pets. I grew up with a father who was in the PA Game Commission for over 30 years.  I have lived on a Game Commission pheasant farm and on a privately owned wildlife preserve.  Dad was also an official measurer for Boone and Crockett, the organization that scores big game trophies.  I’ve had a lot of experiences and learned a lot about animals over the years.  One of the most important lessons I learned from Dad, was that wild animals are wild animals.  They do not make good pets.  I don’t care how long you have had the animal or how gentle and tame you think it is.  Eventually, it’s wild instincts will kick in and override any "taming."  The problem is, when it happens it may be an instinct that is more bothersome than anything or it may be something that puts you or the animal in danger.

I bring this whole subject up because there’s been a story in the local news this week.  A really horrible, tragic story.  A story that shouldn’t have happened.  In Pennsylvania it is illegal to keep wolves or wolf hybrids without the proper license.  Yet, there are people who keep the hybrids, claiming them to be wonderful pets.  They skirt around the law by not calling them hybrids to the authorities and licensing them as dogs, which takes jurisdiction away from the Game Commission.  Even though their hands were officially tied, both the Game Commission and the county’s humane officer had been monitoring a local woman who kept a pack of hybrids in an enclosure at her home.  Monday, the woman was found dead in the enclosure.  The body was in bad shape.  An autopsy showed the animals had indeed killed her.  Experts think one of the animals may have decided to challenge her place as pack leader.  Read the whole story here.

STEELERS NEWS  For those of you waiting paitently for news of Steeler’s quarterback Ben Roethlisberger following his nasty motorcycle accident earlier this summer….Ben is doing fine.  He recently filmed his role in "The Mr. Right Now" music video for a local country band, The Poverty Neck Hillbillies.  The video is expected to be released on August 1 and will air on Country Music Television (CMT).

An odd Steelers fact…18 former players have died since 2000.  That means of the NFL players from the 1970s and ’80s who have died since 2000, more than one in five were Steelers.  Could it be due to steroid use that helped build the hulks that populated the offensive and defensive lines?  Could it be the weight issue?  Those guys had to be huge and immovable.  Of course, not all the deaths were heart related.  There were accidents, a suicide and one former player died in a car crash following a high-speed police chase.  Just a weird co-inky-dink, I guess.

Steeler training camp begins here in Latrobe at St. Vincent College on July 28.  Woot!

ORGANIZATION=BETTER OFF FINANCIALLY  Sarah over at Mommy, Are The Toys On Sale? wonders if we’d be better off financially if we were better organized.  She offers pictures from around her own home as evidence that not knowing what’s in the pantry, under the sink, or in the medicine cabinet costs us lots of extra money, in that, we buy duplicates of what we already have because we don’t know we have it.  Yikes!  I think she’s been poking around in my house.  I’m sooooo guilty of that.  I believe I’ve found today’s project.

Blinkie courtesy of LilMsGlitter.

There’s still some work to do around here, but I’m putting out the welcome mat.  I tried to make some of the changes back at my old blog, but to get Blogsome’s newer features I had to create a new blog.  And if you’re going to do that, you might as well go with a whole new look and a new name, too. 

Life is getting back to normal around here following The Big Vacation.  Tim’s back to work, Matt’s back at school (his next round of classes start tomorrow) and Megan spent the night at a friend’s.  Me?  I’m getting to do all the laundry , keep up with training the hopeless stubborn puppy, clean the house, weed the flower beds that turned into miniature jungles while we were gone, and begin my new second "career" as an Avon Lady.  When I teased Megan about abandoning me and how lonely I’d be, her solution was to offer to let me take her and 3 of her friends to Wal-Mart. I passed.  After 9 days of constant togetherness some aloneness is a good thing.

I still owe you pictures of our vacation.  I didn’t use a digital camera so you’ll have to wait till I get the pictures developed and put on disk.  I think there will be some pretty good ones.  The one of Matt’s friend eating his first raw oyster, plucked straight from the bay, should be priceless.

Oh yeah, if you notice your blog’s not on my blogroll and it used to be over at the old site, please leave a comment with your blog’s URI so I can get you back on.  In the process of playing around, my blogroll got cleared and I haven’t been able to find everyone just yet.

This is a test of the emergency blog post system.  Had it been an actual blog emergency there would have been an actual post to read.