Guns and things

Bean and I planted today...well, actually, she planted and I directed. Mippy and Monkeyboy came by to pick up Bean. Monkeyboy looked tired from Cub Scout Camp. I asked him what he liked best about camp, and he said "shooting the gun". When I picked myself up from the dead faint, I thought about this. Grobus, aka Poppy, was president of the rifle club when he was in high school. I tried out for the rifle club, but couldn't even hit the target. Since then, I have not had much contact with guns. Bird was in the Marine Corp during the Gulf War. He fought and did a fine job of that. I was so very proud when he got off the plane and people cheered him as he came through the airport. Bird is a good person.....well, most of the time. He has a great sense of humor, is a kind and gentle person and a wonderful father. Monkeyboy thinks his father is the best thing ever and wants to be just like his father. Monkeyboy could not have a better role model. HOWEVER, there is this matter of guns. Bird and I had a "discussion" tonight about guns. Bird said he would never teach Monkeyboy to kill any living thing, that Bird likes guns, but he doesn't like killing anything with them. So, on this matter, which I feel so strongly about, I will trust Mippy and Bird. I have seen the gentleness and love in Monkeyboy--with Flurrie, the gentleness, and with his family, the love. I don't like guns, but I'll keep looking to the gentle side of Monkeyboy.....that's the side I love, Monkeyboy attached to Flurrie and worrying when some other child wanted to hold him........that they may not be as gentle as he was.

New Food for the Deer

Bean and I decided growing deer need more food. So this morning bright and early, (well maybe not so early) we went to the garden center and said, "We want to spend lots of money to feed our deer friend." The gardener rubbed his hands together and said, "You should spend lots of money to feed your friends, and I have lots of expensive plants to sell to you." So Bean and I came home, and have been planting ever since. Bean whines, "This is harder than cleaning the attic!" Little does she know the best is yet to come...while Mia gabbed on the phone all afternoon, Bean was made to work her fingers to the bone in the garden. Jumping on the shovel, trying to get a hole dug through the rocks and clay. Well worth the effort. Hope the deer enjoy. We took pictures because we are pretty sure it will be gone tomorrow.

Cleaning the Attic

As you might remember, we had guests in the attic. Ava found them to be amusing. Since that time, the attic stairs have been jammed with miscellaneous items...anything to keep the guests up and Ava down. Today however, the Bean and I decided to brave it and venture to the attic. We found the neatest doll house with working lights and sounds. After playing with that for a period of time, we began to shuffle items around. We can now get to the attic, and fortunately, found no guests residing there. Another wonder today, Dick, from Dick's T.V., picked up our broken T.V. this morning, and delivered it back to us at lunch time completely fixed. Dick has been reparing T.V.s for 45 years and said plasma T.V.s are "throw-a-ways". Dick is my new best friend and if you need someone to repair a T.V. (a lost art and skill) I'll be happy to share his phone number with you.

Lessons and practice

I want to play my guitar on stage with Bruce Springsteen. And Clarence. I had a guitar lesson tonight. Monkeyboy takes drum lessons. He practices EVERY day. Bean plays the flute...she also practices. Don't get me wrong, I practice. But I AM very busy, you know. There's poker, and the book I have to finish before I have to mortgage the house to pay the fine. Monte, my instructor, has a wealth of patience. I think he should, because he is a stay at home husband and father who cares for his two young children. And he has me as a student. That takes patience, believe me. Monte amazes me. He listens to a song and writes down all the notes in five minutes time, then says "let's play it". So, I pretend and he plays. I love the lessons, and I always think I am going to someday play really well. Practice. OK, but can I finish this poker tournament.....oh, yes, then the book. It's a really good book. Besides, I don't want to put Stevie Van Zandt out of business. But someday......

Thoughts on a Sunday morning

In retrospect, it was a great trip. Put aside the overcrowded planes, the wait in the airports and the rude stafff of United Airlines. There are moments...kids in the back of the van singing at the top of their lungs and each knowing which part they are to sing, three kids sitting with kittens, so gentle with these new beings, Monkeyboy in the restaurant, waving smoke from a cigarette away and speaking loudly, saying..."here it comes again"...waving arms furiously to get rid of the smoke. Can you believe how many of us used to smoke and think nothing of it? We are now a smoke free family, and I am very glad. At the farm there was a family, a two year old named Dylan, his mother, Nina and Nina's parents. They lived in NYC. Grandpa was a very friendly man who enjoyed talking with all of us. Grandma was more quiet, more reserved. Dylan was an outgoing child with an amazing vocabulary. I spoke with Grandma while we were waiting for the hayride one morning. She was the caretaker for Dylan when Nina worked. I mentioned that she would know her grandson in a very special way. She thought for a moment and then said "Yes, but it gets very lonely". She talked about when her children were growing up and all her friends had children so there was a common bond. Now, she explained, her friends had no young children. They went out to lunch, to the theater, shopping...and she sat at home with her grandson. It wasn't all bad, she expained hastily, but it was lonely. Happens a lot now, doesn't it? Both parents working, few stay at home moms, grandparents helping out. My hat (if I wore one) goes off to them. And because of the adult interaction, I thought of what it would be like living in NYC, looking forward to having adult time and being the day to day caretaker of a two year old. In closing, I just finished watching Meet The Press, my Sunday morning ritual while I read the paper. I miss Tim Russert. I liked him. I don't know what his politics were and I don't care. I think he was fair and pressed people for answers when they tried to give the politically correct answer. The show just wasn't the same.