Busy Patting Myself on the Back

I finally sat down and e-mailed all the companies who send me catalogs and other mail and asked to be removed from their mailing list. I'm totally inspired by No Impact Man. This is one of those things I've meant to do for a long time but never got around to doing. It was easier than I thought and took less time than I expected.

I even made suggestions to my favorite (horse catalog) companies. Instead of sending me a catalog, they should send me an e-mail inviting me to their web-site. Maybe they could even put my name in a drawing for ten dollars (or something) off my next purchase if I visit the website. It seems like a win-win-win situation to me - less mail for me to wade through, less cost to the company, less impact on the environment.

Yep. Feeling pretty good here. Excuse me for a moment while I pat myself on the back.

In other news
Kamikaze Kardinal is back. Well, actually he never left the yard; I have heard him and seen him in the trees around the house. I now realize he has been flying around studying the guards posted at the windows and has deduced that they never move. Therefore, he reasoned, all is safe to renew his assault.

He is lovely and vigorous but he ain't right in the head. I'm not sure it's a good thing if this guy breeds. Any birders out there have any advice or opinion on this matter?

Feeling Random

Now eating a bowl of ice cream called Death by Chocolate. That's how I want to go.

Speaking of going, at our next big family get-together, we are having a Living Will Festival. I will provide the necessary paperwork; those who wish to join in the festivities and ensure their future death and burial wishes are carried out can fill out the appropriate forms and have other family members sign as witnesses. Even take home copies as keepsakes. Woo-hoo.

I've been using Tim's manly man deodorant and it works better than my girlie girl stuff. Smells okay, too.

The National Debt Clock shows that our nation's debt is nearing 9 trillion dollars; it increases by nearly 2 billion dollars every day. To pay it off, it would cost every US citizen nearly $30 thousand dollars. How did this happen? It makes me sad to think of my beloved country in this quandary.

Logan has been reading the Margaret Peterson Haddix books about the Shadow Children and he's loving them. At his insistence, Tim and I are reading them too. We have had some great conversations about the "Population Police." Logan was bowled over to learn that in China couples are only allowed to have one child. He couldn't believe that his books could be true. Or that, in real life, governments could/would regulate the number of children folks could have. I love books for kids that make kids think.

I feel sad today about the Guantanamo Bay prisoners holding a hunger strike. I feel sad that they have been in prison for five years without a trial (without charges pressed against them, even). Isn't a fair and speedy trial one of our basic tenets? I used to write messages for Luke and Logan, posted where they'd see 'em every time they pooped, that said, Being nice when it's easy to be nice doesn't count near as much as being nice when it's hard to be nice and Giving folks a fair and speedy trial when it's easy to give a fair and speedy trial doesn't illuminate democracy near as much as giving folks a fair and speedy trial when they might be enemy combatants. Or something like that. Does anyone have access to bathrooms in the capital so I could post my mom notes there?

Oh, and am I the only one who thinks it mighty strange that Guantanamo Bay is in Cuba? Fidel Castro land? Sometimes I feel as if I've fallen down the rabbit hole with Alice. The landscape has shifted 'til I can't make out what's strange, what's normal.

I'm feeling very random today but expect to feel better tomorrow cause the weather report says: "The sun'll come out tomorrow, tomorrow."

Easter Snow

We are fighting the winter blahs.

Spring was just flirting with us; she has not committed. We are forcing ourselves to keep going while the easy chair and blankets sing their siren song: "Come hibernate; rest yourself until winter is really over."

The resistance goes weakly on.

Today we resisted by washing sheets!


Tim pausing to flex for the photographer.

Got to love a guy who washes sheets and has something that flexes when he does.

We had an on-going game of Scrabble all day. It's the best way to play: Tim takes a turn, goes and washes sheets. I finish what I'm doing then take a turn. I get lots of time to try to come up with words that use all my letters without Tim sitting there huffing and sighing because I take too long.

Here's Tim cheating when he thinks I'm not looking.


The boys were off in different directions all day. We didn't get around to coloring eggs until 9 p.m.

A portrait of the artist currently known as Logan:


Lukey's default position:


My bunny eggs singing "Little Rabbit Foo-Foo:

(Logan did not think I would post that photo.)

I heard Tim say this to Logan today: "You kids'll be digging Easter eggs out with a snow shovel tomorrow."



I don't know if I can stand it. The easy chairs need to shut up already.

Vehicular Shopicide

Luke's upcoming 16th birthday in June has me in a tizzy for more reasons than I can count.

First of all, how is it possible he is turning 16? He was just born, oh, three years ago....wasn't he?


Lukey, the day before yesterday.

How is it he will be driving? Driving himself to all the things he now needs me to drive him to? Who will sing Broadway tunes with him at top of lungs until our destination is reached? Who will sing with me?

(Pause for panic attack. Can't breathe, can't breathe.)

Okay.

However, my most impending problem right now is finding a vehicle. Not for Luke; for me. Luke will inherit my mini-van. It's reliable and...um...reliable. And it's not the smallest vehicle on the road. Luke will have Visibility.

So I am shopping for a vehicle.

I like to think of myself as a person who considers vehicles purely as instruments for getting from point A to point B. No status symbols for me. No Mercedes. No Beamer. No Jag.

What I say I want is the most fuel-efficient vehicle I can find that will get me where I'm going and have room for groceries or the occasional saddle or two. So basically I'm looking for the most fuel-efficient hatchback out there. That's what I say. That's what I like to believe I believe.

So far, I've found three vehicles that meet my criteria:

Ford Focus Hatchback. I e-mailed Ford to ask about a fuel-efficient hatchback and they got right back with me about the Focus. It gets 27 mpg city/37 mpg highway. That's pretty good mileage. Plus, Ford gets points for having a place on their web-site where I could contact them. They get points for getting right back with me. They get little bitty extra points for still being, in my mind, an American Company.


Chevy Malibu Hatchback. This is a car I have noticed on the road. It's actually kind of cute. The Chevy web-site doesn't give much info, but I parked next to a guy in Lowe's parking lot last week and accosted him as he was getting out of his Malibu hatchback. Did he like it? Yes, very much. Gas mileage? About 30 mpg. I tried to contact Chevy from their website; if there is a way to e-mail them, I couldn't find it. They lost points for that. The gas mileage is okay but nothing spectacular. Like Ford, they get the "American Company" extra credit.

Here is the vehicle I am trying to love: Volkswagen Golf. It gets forty-four miles per gallon on the highway. Forty. Four. And it looks...okay. Volkswagen gets big points for truth in advertising. Volkswagen Golf. Golf...golf...yes, it does resemble a golf cart.

Could I learn to love it?

I am humbled to admit that maybe I want a vehicle that gets great mileage and is a little bit cool. Or great mileage and cute. I'd settle for cute.

War is Over?

It's quiet here today.

Strangely quiet.

Too quiet.

I'm waiting; listening. Surely I can't have won this easily.

Who would have thought I'd miss the challenge of outwitting my foe?

I've seen him in the trees today, where he always hangs out when he's pretending not to be the crazed bird banging on the windows.

Is that it? The war is over?

A War of Will

We are under seige.

Kamikaze Kardinal is winning.

He has found the two windows in our house that don't have screens and he throws himself against one or the other of these windows relentlessly.

I worry that he will either hurt himself or be shot by my husband. His incessant banging against the windows is making us crazy.

For a couple of days, I snuck up on him as he banged away and I jumped at the window like a madman and scared him. He's savvy, though, and began to sit innocently singing in the tree whenever he saw me skulking about. As soon as I gave up, he was back at the windows.

Plan B: A guard was posted at one of the windows:

That's Mister Big Bird to you, buddy.

Mr. Big Bird was effective. See Mr. Innocent sitting in the tree trying to look nonchalant? However, it didn't take him long to think, hey, I'll go check the front window.

Picture this: bird frantically flinging himself against window; human frantically cutting black construction paper and taping human silhouette to said window.

Bird not slowing for a second.


Bird singing mockingly on windowsill:


Human pondering further. Thinking okay, Big Bird was effective. Why? Because he's a bird? Because, unlike the paper silhouette, he's three dimensional? Because he's bright yellow and has big eyes?

Hhhhmmmmm.....what else might we have here?

Guard number two:

Garfield on duty.

Very effective. So far.

The war goes on. Kazi is an unknowing participant in my behavior experiments.

Or perhaps I'm an unknowing participant in his behavior experiments.

The World's Most Spoiled Person:

Is me.

Today's my 46th birthday. I am the world's most spoiled person.

Last night, my boys took me to LaComedia dinner/theatre to eat good food and see Oklahoma! the musical. It was a fun time.


This morning, my actual birthday, while still lying abed I heard busy-ness in the kitchen. I was offered the choice between breakfast in bed or breakfast at the table with everyone else. I chose breakfast with everyone else. I got up in time to catch the cooks in action:


Luke serenaded breakfast, playing songs he knows I like.


Then I went out to feed the animals, clean the barn, and ride Speckles. We had a long, fun trail ride. Logan took photos for me as we were leaving.


Tim made me a masterpiece:

He asked, "Does it matter if you use corn syrup instead of the vegetable oil that the recipe on the box calls for?" I thought, oh no. But it turns out it doesn't matter. The texture was a little different but if you didn't know he substituted corn syrup for the oil, you'd never have known.

Then, joy, joy, joy, mom and Poppy got here. They've been in Florida for three months and just got home yesterday. It was great to see them. Especially my mom - she is especially special to me.


They brought Kentucky Fried Chicken for a late lunch and another cake. Mom made what we call Grandma Rose's Special Cake.

(Is anyone keeping a tally of how much food so far?)

Me and my boys:


Getting ready to blow out the candles:


Riding my New Bike:

(Got to get some sun on those legs.)

Then at dark, the chorus of spring peepers started up in my neighbor's ponds. We got our flashlights and camera and went to see nature's version of a Roman bath house. Logan took these photos:



Hear spring peepers calling here.

One last photo. This is what 46 looks like (on me).


The World's Most Spoiled Person signing off.