I Dream of Gardening

Fall is here. I am so glad that Fall came when it was supposed to, ignoring Summer's long, sleepy arrival. The sun is warm, the evenings are cool, the air carries a hint of dead leaves, and trees are displaying their two-toned glory.

However, even with the thought of Fall, I dream of gardening. I blame my dear friends Sam and Tawnya, who, much to my joy, have been blogging consistently about their harvesting endeavors. Sam and Tawnya live in Wisconsin and have been chronicling their gardening for the past two years. My favorite day of the summer is the day they post their Garden Tour video on their website. That garden is impressive. Rows of tomatoes (not just one kind, mind you), lettuce, potatoes, cucumbers, various squashes, corn, peas, onions...forgive me for not remembering them all.

I don't like dirt and I hate bugs, but gardening makes so much sense. One average sized garden can produce enough food for several families. When did Americans give up on that idea? I almost feel like people can't complain about the status of the American economy if they're not willing to grow food for themselves. It's a laziness thing.

I am determined to have a garden someday. I want to grow my own lettuce and tomatoes for BLTs, my own strawberries for strawberry shortcake, my own zucchini and onions and cucumbers. I'm sure my garden will look paltry compared to Sam and Tawnya's, but at least I'll be doing my part.

Paintings From Italy

We are mostly settled into our new place. I'd say we're about 98% settled, and we're settled with the 98%. Lee thinks we're done hanging pictures on the walls...I'll let him think that for about two more weeks.

Hanging pictures always makes me think of three painting I got while we were in Italy 6 years ago. Right outside the Coliseum were a bunch of vendors, and one guy was selling these watercolors of famous Roman sites. Who knows if they were prints or if he actually did them himself, but I liked them, so I bought three small ones.

They need to be framed, and therein lies the real reason that they are still sitting in the paper bag that I brought them home in. Every time we move I find them carefully hidden behind the dresser, where they won't get damaged. I take them out and look at them, and I'm still pleased with my purchase. I just wish I could display them.

I've never taken them to a framing store, because I'm a little afraid of how much it might actually cost. Let's face it, when it comes down to it, framing pictures isn't high up there on the budget agenda. I suppose that would be the first step.

Until those paintings are framed and hung, we'll probably always only be 98% settled.

The Smell of Snow

This morning it smelled like snow. Which was a little weird, considering the fact that it wasn't cold outside. The smell of snow is usually accompanied by a soft gray sky and tufts of clouds escaping as you exhale. When you smell snow, you are usually bundled in a jacket, wishing you were wearing gloves. You definitely aren't wearing flip-flops and shielding your eyes from the morning sun.

When you smell snow, there shouldn't be too many leaves on the trees, and if there are leaves on the trees, then they should be gold, red or even brown. You should be digging around in the backseat of your car, looking for the scraper to scrape away the thin layer of frost that covers the windshield. Your nose and cheeks should be turning slightly red as they are exposed to the frigid temperature.

When you smell snow, you should be wearing long pants and a long-sleeved shirt that may be wrinkled, since it is very hard to keep long-sleeved shirts in drawers without them becoming wrinkled. Your feet should be wrapped in socks and feel snug as they are tightly tied in shoes.

When you smell snow you should be thinking about your plans for Thanksgiving or Christmas in a few weeks. Your house should have the faint smell of apples and cinnamon from the oatmeal you ate for breakfast. Your bed should have an extra blanket at the foot, in case the night becomes colder than you thought it would.

Mostly, though, when you smell snow, you should actually see snow. Since there are still two more days of summer, I don't see that happening today.

My Love for Reality TV

I. Love. Reality TV.

I would say that it is my guilty pleasure, except I don't feel guilty about it at all. I don't know when the genre made its appearance, but I am so glad it did. For some reason I can really get into an unscripted TV show. And yes, I believe that all reality TV is completely unscripted. I didn't say unedited...I am fully aware that editors use footage to create a story that will appeal to the masses, but I'm okay with that.

I find it so intriguing that normal, everyday people just like me are suddenly thrust into the spotlight and all the commentary that comes with it. I'm excited for each and every one of them, that their lives have just become a little bit un-ordinary, even if it is for only the proverbial 15 minutes. Most of them had the gumption to come up with some sort of application, so they've done their homework for the most part. I don't necessarily like them all. Even I can recognize the jerks and narcissists. But I do know they make for great TV, and give me a reason to root for the nice guys.

I don't watch every single reality show out there. Let's not be silly; there are way too many. But I do have to give a shout out to my favorites, Survivor and Amazing Race, which are both starting up soon. And then there is my summer companion, Big Brother. Big Brother is the one I resisted for a long time, but I've stopped pretending that I don't like it. I really like American Idol, but my schedule has changed in such a way that I can't be as avid a watcher of that one. I really got into the last season of Dancing With The Stars, but only because of my love for Melissa from The Bachelor. Yes, I love The Bachelor and The Bachelorette. I even like some of the shows on CW, like America's Next Top Model. I was a big fan of Farmer Wants A Wife, but that only aired for one season. And will they ever bring back Beauty and the Geek? That was a quality program.

Currently we do not have cable or satellite, so I know I'm missing out on some cable greats, like 18 Kids and Counting, What Not To Wear and Design Star. But we all need something to dream for don't we?

Oh, and I don't ever see myself actually going on a reality show, but that is a topic for another day.

Eight Years Ago

Eight years ago, I was sitting in Church History, waiting for Dr. Eckman to come and start the class. Someone had already gone to the windows and made each of the three blinds a different level, because we all knew that Dr. Eckman hated that. At the beginning of his lecture, without missing a beat, he would casually wander over to the windows and make the blinds even.

My friend Sarah rushed in and plopped in the desk next to mine.

"I think I heard on the news that a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center," she said, breathlessly.

"What?!" I exclaimed. "That can't be right. Things like that don't happen." She just shrugged. Dr. Eckman came through the door just then, apologizing for his tardiness. He then briefly mentioned that a plane had indeed crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers and that we should all pray. He also apologized, because he had a meeting in Lincoln that morning, so he would have to leave and we would all be dismissed.

I had about an hour before chapel, so I went back to Dirks Lounge to see if the news had anything to say about what was going on. About six other students were already there, tuned into Fox News. By then the second plane had crashed into the second tower, and the anchors were replaying that footage slowly. As they switched back to the live feed of the towers looking like giant smokestacks I heard a gasp. It took me a minute, as I watched the first tower crumble to the ground, to realize that the gasp had come from the news anchors themselves. In that instant, I realized that what I was seeing was real, and had just happened.

I remember feeling lost. I was sad that Dr. Eckman was out of town that day, because I needed him to give us words of encouragement. I needed him, because mostly I needed my dad, who was 700 miles away at the time. I remember being keenly aware of the fact that no planes were flying in the sky that day, since they had all been grounded. I remember Dr. Blewett putting up a sign on campus saying that gas prices would be raised to $5.00 a gallon the next day, and feeling stuck because there was no way I was going to go get in line for gas that day.

That was eight years ago today.

Contacts: My Friend, My Enemy

Today I had an eye appointment. I go every two years, honestly because that is when insurance will pay for it. Anyway, today was a delightful experience. I'd like to give a shout out to Dr. Yount, because he is fun and quick. He is so encouraging as he tells you how bad your eyes are, and confident in how to correct them. His only fault comes with those drops that dilate my eyes for a day. I can't blame him for that, though, because I know it's just his job.

So I'm getting a new pair of contacts next week. I use gas permeables, so I only get a new pair every other year. As nice as it will be to have new lenses, I can't help but think of all the things I've let contacts keep me from over the years. Swimming, for one. I don't want to swim with my contacts in for fear of losing them. They are expensive to replace. And I don't want to swim without them, because I really dislike the whole fuzziness factor. This has kept me out of pools AND oceans. I also don't camp because of my contacts. Gas perms require a certain amount of daily maintenance involving running water. And I will NOT use a freezing cold creek as my running water. I'm hesitant to go on roller coasters, because wind and dust could blow into my eye and possibly pop out the contact. And I love roller coasters. Part of the reason I don't like to stay out late is because after about 14 hours, the contacts seem to quit and my eyes refuse to self-lubricate. I'm not really a fan of my glasses, so I'd rather just stay home and go to bed when it's time to take out the contacts.

I dream of the day when I can have lasik. To swim or snorkel and not be worried would be glorious. Of course, I'd lose my "no camping" excuse, but I think I could live with that.

Back To School

For some reason, this year I feel like I should be going back to school. Which is funny, since the last time I went "back to school" was six years ago. I feel like I should be moving all my meager possessions into a dorm room, plastering my wall with pictures and enjoying the general brouhaha of fellow students re-getting to know each other after a long summer break. As boring as it was, syllabus day was always one of the best. Your slate was clean and your work for the semester was all spelled out. Classes and professors hadn't lost their charm. You were on the cusp of being overwhelmed, but the feeling was just like that of riding to the apex of a rollercoaster before tipping over the edge. Oh, and all of your supplies and notebooks were new and fresh.

I am glad that I am done with school, but I do miss the excitement of starting a new year. Being an adult brings a massive amount of sameness to your year; every week is generally the same as the week before. I'm sure things will change when my kids start going to school, but until then, I have to live vicariously through back-to-school commercials on tv.

Aspiring, Perspiring

I have a goal. Or a dream.

To write.

I tried to make it practical in college, by becoming a journalism major. I had even been encouraged to go into journalism because the media needs good, solid Christian voices. However, I hate the media, and have no desire to be swallowed up in that world. So I kind of gave up on the idea of writing, because trying to make it as a non-journalistic writer is very hard and unpractical.

But then I became a stay-at-home mom. I'm not pulling in any income anyway, so what have I got to lose by trying to earn money by writing? Nothing but my pride.

Apparently I have more pride than I thought, because even now I hesitate to put things out there, lest they be rejected.

Anyway, to be a writer, the most important thing I've learned so far is that you have to not not write. For some reason that is easier for me to understand than by just saying you have to write. When I sit down to write, I get slammed with writer's block. When I sit down to not not write, words flow like a mighty Colorado creek.

This blog is dedicated to not not writing. We'll see what happens.