Save My Toast!

Oldest child tells me that writing about gardening is incredibly dull when I could have shared the toast incident. "Now that was funny," she says. "You have to stop writing about things that are so boring."

So here it is.

We were having our usual morning on a Wednesday. Oldest child caught the middle school bus at 7:15. Once she was out the door, I had 45 minutes until the next bus, which we spent on cartoons, cereal, lunches and getting dressed.

I got the usual request for cinnamon toast from my younger girl. Picky picky picky about her toast, it has to be just the right color pale brown, have just the right ratio of butter to cinnamon sugar and, most importantly, the crusts must be cut off. We had a misfire, that is to say that I burned the first batch of toast, requiring me to make more. Finally the toast was perfect, but a ticking clock forced the child to eat it on the road. We raced down to the bus stop, where we meet up with our neighbor and his kids. Being the slow poke that she is, she had only taken a bite or two out of her first slice (she had two) when the bus pulled up. She stopped to press the toast into my hand (no eating on the bus!) before running like heck, crying "Save my toast!" over her shoulder.

Once she couldn't hear us, my neighbor and I howled at the thought of it - right - I'm going to save the toast until she gets home. Then, when we turned around to walk back home, I lobbed the toast over the bushes and into the woods. We kept laughing about it as we walked all the way up the street.

Now it's 3:35 and my neighbor and I are again down at the bus stop, this time waiting for our children to get home from school. His dog has followed him down, because their electric fence keeps getting run over by the lawnmower, so the collar no does anything. Lucky comes and goes as he pleases, and this time he was pleased to come with us to the end of the street. Then he runs into the woods just as the bus pulls up.

Four kids come flying off the bus and the dog comes prancing out of the bushes to meet them with, you guessed it, the unbitten piece of cinnamon toast carried in his mouth like a serving tray.

"My toast!" my sweet girl cries in dismay. "You promised to save it!" and the sad thing is that there were actual tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. However, my neighbor cannot contain himself and has fallen down on the ground laughing. I have to say that I needed the laugh preventer to help myself maintain my composure and sympathy. Then the dog opened his mouth and swallowed the toast whole, making the kid laugh too.

Better?

My Hundred Dollar Tomatoes

I live in the land of apple orchards and farm stands. My neighbors all compost. There are gorgeous flower gardens and huge plots of tomatoes, cucumber and squash. There are even people who sell their backyard tomatoes and flowers at little stands in their front yards. We have a town garden, where you can rent a plot for the summer, and it is always sold out.

Can you feel the garden pressure yet?

I have lived in the country for 14 years. Fourteen falls of pathetic vegetable output. You'd think that 14 years would be long enough to figure out that I stink when it comes to growing things to eat.

I used to think my problem was water. I lived in a house that had only one inconveniently located tap in the front of the house and a big yard that was sunny for twelve hours a day. I made too big a plot that was too far away from the house. I would drag hoses from one side to the other and it was a big pain. It was so much work.

Gals I know would tell me about how much money they saved in the summer, eating produce they grew. I thought, Gee, I could save money if I would just be willing to carry some hoses.

And then I moved to a yard that was easier to water and I started over again, very hopeful. This time I put the garden in a much better spot. But my plants didn't get very big. I got like one cucumber and two zucchini. I must have planted too late.

So the next year I got plants sooner and I made an above ground bed, thinking, Now I'll get great vegetables. And I got one bigger green pumpkin and a couple of orange ones, too small to carve.

Are you starting to see a pattern here?

Last year I planted heirloom tomatoes and they all died of blight. I bought special dirt - not your typical in a plastic bag dirt that you get at the hardware store. No, this is really special, in a black heap at the nursery, delivered to you in a truck load kind of dirt. I put it everywhere and I got incredible weeds. Not just crab grass, but remarkable, foot high crab grass. That and the incredibly dead tomatoes.

I bought a composter myself - and threw in various kinds of food garbage, not to mention grass clippings, old leaves and other recommended stuff. Then, to take it up a notch, I bought compost accelerator - this organic stuff (it's all organic - has to be organic) that I poured on the stuff to make it compost more quickly. Plus this year more heirloom tomato plants, because last year was so wet - you can't go by one wet year, can you? - and here is my embarrassing output for the year:

Tomatoes: Maybe 10 pounds - probably more like 5. Plant cost: $25

Leeks: They are the size of small green onions and there are 10 of them. Plant cost: $12

Potatoes: Maybe 5 pounds of harvest. Plant and pot cost: $36

We're not talking about the cost of the special dirt, the composter, the compost accelerator, the tomato fertilizer (organic is always more expensive), the cone things to give them water when you leave town, etc. etc. etc.

Will one of my devoted readers please help me remember to just shop at the farmstand next year? I don't think my bank account can take another Petter harvest.

Life on the Chain Gang

My family has a little first day of school tradition. We all go down to the bus stop together, the kids strap on their new backpacks, and we pose for pictures. I know, this sounds pretty much like every other family's tradition. Who cares! And what makes it especially fun is the annual neighborhood first day of school shot, where we line all the kids up and check out how much they've grown since last year.

This year the drill changed just a little bit - we all got up a little earlier because the oldest two, mine and my neighbor's, started middle school. So early Tuesday morning, we all run down to the bus stop, six kids and three adults, laughing and taking our annual pictures. There are lots of hugs, kisses on tops of heads and last minute adjustments. And then the bus arrives.

Now I'm used to the perky, cute, elementary school bus. The tiny kindergartners sit up front and everybody blows kisses to their mom as the bus pulls away. So the bus starts to pull in and my hand goes up to wave, just like it always does. And then I see them – a long line of enormous stony faces with their deadpan stares in every window. My new middle schooler quickly pulls away from me. I drop the camera just as fast. I don't think I've ever been so uncool in my life.

"Wow," my honey says, "She's joining the chain gang!" And we laugh, he, my neighbor and I, because it is so damn true. Clueless before, we get it now. But once the bus goes hiding behind the trees, my neighbor and I quickly blow our babies one last kiss.

3 More Business Days Till I Get My Life Back!!!

It's 5:45 in the morning, I'm sitting up in bed chatting with my sweetie, who is busy getting dressed for work. I start telling him about our visit to the vet yesterday, a subject I think he'll find interesting, seeing as he's the reason we have all these dogs. He turns to me and says, with a huge grin, "Oh my god your life is boring! I'm really sorry!" and we both crack up because it is so damn true.

Ok, I'm sorry all you fabulous home-schooling mothers, who I have tremendous respect for. So before we go any further, let me just say that what you are doing is magnificent work, a wonderful use of your time and energy, and your children will be better for it.

Whew. Not that there's anything wrong with home schooling, but I WOULD LOSE MY MIND if I had to have these kids around me 24/7 for 52 weeks a year. I am totally the Staples ad, singing "It's the best time of the year," to myself each time I pick up another new folder or box of pencils. I CAN'T WAIT to shove their little behinds on to that bus and get back to my real life.

Ok, the puppies and bunnies have created a nice diversion. (Did I mention that said sweetie brought home ANOTHER PUPPY on Sunday? This one all the way from New Jersey?) Loved spending time with my whole family on vacation, especially the part where I got to read on the beach. But I am SO READY to move on to fall. Can't you see it in the ALL CAPS that I keep writing in?

Oh, and since I'm offending people with this post, I might as well fess up to another sin. It suddenly occurred to me the other day, while putting out cat food, that the cat might be pregnant. I know - I should know how these things work by now - but our focus was always on trying to get animals (including humans) pregnant, not trying to avoid it. Come to find out, via a quick visit to the vet, that I kind of blew it with the cat. Vet offered a solution, which I jumped at. Am I a horrible person? Which brings us back to where we started. You probably would be bored by the vet conversation too. But thanks for making the effort.

Mama, Can I Keep Them?

While attempting to sell one more puppy (move them out!) the nature aspect of our home got totally out of control. There were two puppies racing around the back and a couple more running up and down the stairs to the deck. Suddenly we hear this very strange noise.

"Go and check that out," my sweetie says to the 11-year old. She doesn't move. We hear the noise again, and it appears to be coming from the racing puppies. "No really, go and see what is going on," and he gives her a little push.

"Daddy?!" she cries and he goes rushing over.

"Get me some towels!" he says. I run into the basement and grab a bunch of dog towels, wondering what the heck I'm getting into. I run back out and discover that our sweet puppies have pulled some newborn rabbits out of their burrow and are carrying them around the yard.

I gently picked one up and cradled it in the towel. I've never seen such tiny things. There are two of them, eyes still shut, about 3 inches long each, with tiny little ears that are just starting to sprout. The kids come flying over to see them and ask the inevitable: "Mama, can I keep them? Please?!"

We searched around the yard and found a few more in the nest, which is across from the bulkhead door for our basement. We tucked the tiny sweeties back into their grassy beds and set up a portable dog pen around it to keep the puppies away. I've been taking little sneaky peaks into the nest each day. Today their eyes are open and a tiny foot kicked at me when I lifted the grass.

Down Time

I'm in a frenzy of unwashed laundry, trying to push it through the system before we leave on vacation tomorrow. I am finding that there are few things that I treasure more than those quiet moments on vacation with my family. Like the quiet when my honey and I have our reading lights on, going blind trying to read because we couldn't possibly sleep because it's so early, while the kids toss and turn and slowly go to sleep. Or the quiet hug that happens because one kid is cold with blue lips and the other two aren't ready to get out yet.

I'm trying to take it all in, because I know that when I blink it will be over. They'll be jumping in cars with their friends, moving into apartments and going to the beach with their own families. In the meantime, better wash me some more swimsuits.

And You Think You Have Pet Hair Issues!

It's at least 90 degrees out. Russell's brushing dogs this afternoon and this is what my porch looks like at the moment. The collies are dropping their winter coats. Pretty awesome, isn't it? And this is just from the first two. There are seven more to go!

Don't have much to say about this - I think in this case the picture is worth at least 10,000 words. Just looking at it makes me hot. I'm going to get a glass of ice water now.