Late July Garden update

Well, it's been well over a month since I posted a picture of the veggie garden.... and here its is!

Yes, a controlled jungle! It's been so cool this summer, that the weeds have not been as explosive as they usually are.... but that also means that my tomatoes are beautiful.. but green! Same as the bell peppers and zuchinni! But the lettuce has actually remained harvestable for a while, where it would normally have gone to seed by 4th of july! We've been able to harvest:

• A few handfuls of raspberries (bunnies cut the canes down so our early crop was really limited)


• Lettuce and spinach


• Snow Peas


• A handful of cherry tomatoes - more coming this weekend!


• Herbs, of course.

I am lookign forward to mid august when I can pick a tomato, and some basil... slice the 'mater up and shred the basil... Bring a knife and plate into the garden and I could eat it right there! NUMMY!

Life is a terminal illness...so what's the problem

In otherwords, everything that lives, dies. Some feel that the minute you are born you start dying. I feel that yes, there is some point when you physiologically have more decay than growth occuring... I guess that would be "mid life". While I don't want to know when I hit that stage (or maybe I already have), I do believe that dying is as natural as being born.

The social stigmas and cultural mores around birth and death are so vastly different, yet the biological process are very similar, just in mirror image. Why is birth a joyful occasion, and death such a sad time? Why are there five different versions of "what to expect when you are expecting, in the first year, etc.", when there is no book on Barnes and Noble shelves called "What to expect when you are dying?". Why do we need to whisper and be sad around people who are terminal, but we are loud and boisterous around a new born who has much of the same needs (sleep, eat, eliminate)? Why are people proud to buy Pampers, but ashamed to buy Depends?

I have two good friends who are in the process of losing a very important person in their life to cancer. A father, who has seen a long, good life, and the other, a best friend whose life is just at theat midpoint if not for disease.

Having lost both my parents and a sibling before I turned 37, I understand the deep grief these two friends are experiencing. I wish I could turn it upside down and help them celebrate the joy that these people have added to their lives. I wish we could sign happy songs at funerals, or for that matter, skip the stupid funeral and have a party! Regardless of whether or not you believe in the afterlife... why not celebrate the dead?

I really wonder why humans feel sad when someone dies. Aside from a few higher primates, most of our fellow members of the animal kingdom don't mourn the loss of a pack or family member. And if anyone says that they saw grief if the eyes of the penguin in "March of the penguins" - I say "Bah - that mama was wondering if that frozen chick was food or a rock."

Is this a social thing, or a genetic thing? I know some people who would dismiss this question as being cold hearted and even cruel... Trust me, I miss my mom, dad and brother terribly... Were they young? Yes. Did it feel tragic? Yes! But it's not like they weren't eventually going to die anyway... we all do!

I got nothing....

I got nothing to say today.... how odd, and a little pathetic....

Swimming with Zombies

Not far from my house is a community center that has a HUGE waterpark... many slides, multiple pools, and on warm days there's not much room in the pool. Right next door is a lovely cemetary. You can literally read the writing on some gravemarkers from the top of one of the water slides...

My boys and I were driving by this area on Sunday, and one of them said that isn't it funny they built the waterpark next to the "dead people place" (yes, that's what we call it in our family)... then the other says "yeah, wouldn't it be funny if the dead rose from the grave as zombies and decided to take a swim in the pool?"... (They are big Evil Dead fans)

and then we launched into this string of funny zombie swimming movie concepts, including -

• kids show up at the pool in the morning and find a zombie finger floating in the pool (and then of course, Bill Murray comes out to fetch the floater)
• Scenes of zombies squealing with delight as they go down the big slide
• Guy zombies chcking out chick zombies in their bikinis.. rotting flesh and all
• Bruce Campbell shows up in a speedo and of course, his chainsaw strap-on .. and hangs out in the hot tub waiting for the sun to set.

Of course, all of the concepts were based on movies from my teen years.... that have somehow transitioned to my 15 year-olds' brains.... Caddy Shack, Cocoon, Porkies, Evil Dead, Dawn of the Dead... just a little glimpse into the car rides I share with my boys....

Now What?

Now what?

I wrote a poem
And it’s just sitting there
on my screen
The cursor, blinking at me

Asking me “now what?”
Now that it’s done
Do I post it?
Do I send it?

Or was it just for me
That I wrote it?
I like it
It speaks the truth

Would sharing it
Cause me to admit
That something is amiss,
Something has changed?

Or did the mere writing of it
Suffice as catharsis
A literal purging
Of my emotional bowels?

So much fun to have, too few weekend days to do it in!

This is one of those weekends that I am tickeled pink to live in a first ring suburb of Minenapolis. It's the final weekend of the Aquatennial, which means there is stuff going on all over the city. There is so much to chose from, I wish we had more time. After reviewing all of the info, here's our battle plan:

Tonight (Friday): Hit the Dakota Jazz Club for Cocktail hour (I hope Irv and the boys will be playing). Then, maybe, we'll stay for The New Standards (Chan Pohling from The Suburbs, John Muson from trip Shakespeare/Semisonic, and Steve Roehm, an awesome percussionist who plays the vibraphones). And if it all plays out, we'll bring Magni and Modi along... they'll have a blast!

Tomorrow (Saturday):

AM: Go enjoy breakfast at the Famous Daves in Calhoun Square, and travel to New Orleans through the Jack Brass Band performance.... yes... brass band over pancakes...
Noon: Go to My Music store in Golden Valley for the Annual Guitar Toss - pay $1 to throw a guitar into a dumpster - benefitting the GV Animal Humane Society.
Afternoon: Hit the Art Car Parade at LAke Harriet... as LynLake is still torn up with construction
Evening: Attend Mill City part for Aquatennial, Fireworks afteward!

Sunday: AM: Sit on our butts and recover from Saturday... Afternoon: Hit Lake Calhoun/Isles in a couple of canoes and maybe hit Somerfest on Peavy plaza for some music...

And then Monday comes!

Girls marry their fathers... eventually

Not earthshattering, I know....but I was just thinking about how this has played out in my life. Anybody who reads this probably knows I have been married three times.

1) Mr. Ick (not his real name) - started dating when I was 16, he was 20. Relationship created out of my need for "normalcy" after my 18 year old brother took his own life. Married at 18, divorced 3 years later. Evidently, Normalcy is really not for me.

2) Paul (his real name) - Father of my children, artist, now a plumber. Met in college, beginning of relationship overlapped with end of marriage. Smart Guy, nice guy, but since this is a public blog, I'm not going to go into any detail about how it ended or why. The great news is that we have kept our relationship very functional since we divorced after 5 years of marriage, when our children were not quite 3 years old. 12 years later, we are both happy being married to someone else!

3) Scott (his real name) - Third time is the charm... Scott is 10 years my senior - very smart guy, a very loving man. Talented in many ways - none of them have anything to do with his profession! He's brilliant, a musician, a gastronome, and a big fan of martini's (Shaken, not stirred of course). He has plenty of demons in his past - sometimes they surface. He claims I fall for "tragic" guys. I think he's right. I also fall for guys who can have a real conversation, a conversation that stretches me intellectually.

And that's where marrying my father comes in. While my dad has been dead for 18 years, I can honestly say my fondest memories of him were at the dinner table, arguing about something, or learning from him. Or watching the news and hearing his point of view, and voicing my own. He taught me how to have a respectful, balanced debate. He also taught me to question everything. These are all qualities that attract me to others. It's too bad that Scott and I didn't meet at a point where having children together was feasible (we both have enough apart, thank you very much).. we would have produced some interesting kids.

But that's the point - girls end up marrying their fathers, and boys end up marrying their mothers, because they want to continue those traits which they find most attractive.

Think back to your won relationships... did you (will you) end up being married to your mom or dad? I did, and I'm proud to say it!

The big C – it’s everywhere…

It’s been one of those months … cancer seems to be everywhere.. and it sucks. This morning, I came into the office, and first email I see is an update to CaringBridge about a friend of my best friend… she’s been battling cancer for a couple of years now, and it finally seems to be getting the best of her. A few weeks ago, a good friend called me to tell me her father has it, and wanted advice and counsel, since she worked with me when my mom died from it, she knew I could help her through the process. Just last month, I couldn’t bear to attend a funeral of a fomer co-worker’s wife – they have three little kids under 10!

Then, over lunch today, I open up CNN, and wham, MCA (Adam) from the Beastie Boys has it! Crap! One of the most vibrant people in that scene is doing battle with the big C. It’s true, cancer does not discriminate based on race, religion, socio economic status, or sexual preference… it’s an equal opportunity killer.

Out of a close circle of friends - 3 couples (including my husband and I), 5 of the 6 of us have prematurely lost a parent to this disease – 3 mothers and 2 fathers – all gone from the world well before their time.

I know, everyone dies of something, eventually. And, I know plenty of people who have (or are getting there) beaten the bastard… Terry, who had a tumor in her arm when I first met her 16 years ago, Julia’s mom, a breast cancer survivor for many years, Tonya, a former co-worker who has now had several clear scans (Yay!), and a few more… But sadly, the list of people who have succumbed to the disease is longer than those who have won the battle…

And so, I make my donation to American Cancer Society and other organizations with hope that someday, we’ll understand the mechanics of the disease better… and eventually start knocking them over like dominoes. There is no single cure for cancer… as it takes many shapes and sizes. If you have money to invest, invest in one that is doing research on cancer…. Eventually, you could make a fortune… and help save people from dying prematurely.

Could I just win the lottery already?

It's not for lack of trying.... and I'm SOOOOOOOOOO tired of working for a living... I could be such a good independently wealthy person!

Ok, back to the normal non-obvious-whining blog tomorrow.... just the usual subtle whining...

Slap-a-Dap Mini Cooper Blue- no backs

Remember playing Slug Bug with your brothers and sisters while cruising around town in the back seat of your parents station wagon, maybe even in the "way back"? I do, and I think I still have bruises on my upper arms from my over-zealous older brothers, as I had to sit on "the Hump" in the old mercury wagon....

My family (Husband and twin boys who are now 15) have played slug bug over the years, especially since the new bugs were introduced by VW. Then came the ipod phase, where everyone but the driver was "tuned in, turned on and dropped out", well, at least out of conversation.... thank you Timothy Leary.

But, in the last 3 months or so, the Ipods have stayed at home or turned off (their choice), and as we have been tooling around city, we've brought up the old slug bug game. And, we added a new one, because bugs just aren't as popular: Slap-A-Dap Mini Cooper. Rules are the same, but instead of punching your neighbor in the arm, you slap them twice, once with your palm, the other on the way back with the back of your hand. Of course, you should slap them where it is most convenient, as you should be stealthy about your slapping...but there's no rule about where the slap lands... which makes it a little more fun. And of course, slapping doesn't allow for as much bruising!

Another variation of slug or slap is for the texting generation - text your sighting: sbrednb (slug bug red no backs). And while I would never suggest texting while driving (as it is against the law in MN), you can do it after you've pulled over, or even when you get to your destination!

Now, I don't want to see this on myspace, or a quiz on facebook, or even a tweety twitter... but I am a nostalgic kind of gal, and I'm happy to see my kids play the same game I did with my brothers... brings back all sorts of good memories... and I hope they will carry on the tradition.

Playing Hookie... when you need face time

By the time the alarm went off this morning, no one in my house wanted to wake up - not even the dogs. One of my kids comes into my room around 6:15 and flops down on the bed - resting before he jumped in the shower 45 minutes later.... My other kid slpet until 8:15 or so.... My husband also couldn't get going, with many failed attempts at picking out something to wear, and actually brushing his teeth, he decided to just bag it and call in with a "mental day"... At some point, he rolled over onto my pillow and whispered "do you wanna play hookie?"

All of these factors caused me to loligag around the house, and debate wether or not I could afford a hookie day. It would be a perfect day - my boss is in NY on business, our admin is on vacation - I don't really have all that much work to do! . Literally, there is no one in the office to know wether or not I am in....but that's the problem- there's no one there to cover in case something happens! Damn!

So, I decide to play half hookie... got in around 10:00 - planning on leaving at 1:30 - show up, put in enough face time, and then let everyone know after the fact that I took a half day. I'll still keep an eye on emails, and maybe check my voicemails (Blecccchhhh), and if somebody needs me, I'll respond. But, otherwise, I'll be sitting my butt on the couch, watching some stupid movie with my husband this afternoon.... and not feeling the least guilty about it!

Good thing my coworkers don't read this blog - I'd be completely busted!

Java Haiku

Mahogany slides
Down my throat, bitter and smooth
My soul awakens




(this one is for Brian who didn't get coffee this AM!)

A Midsummer morning fantasy

Chirp, tweet, little birds say
“pick me, pick me.”

The sweet morning breeze
Is the nightclub for my backyard friends.

All a-tweet and a-twitter,
They attract their soulmate.

Some brash, some melodic,
They all sing the right tune

Many elaborate rituals,
With all the give and take.

A proud display of plumage,
An intricate song of love.

Others are simple fly-bys,
“Hey chick, whatcha got going on?”

I find my avian friends,
Are not so different than us.

Bee Balm

There’s a lovely flower in my garden,
by the name of Bee Balm.

Soft spiky flowers and leaves,
Fragrant Red blossoms

Yet the bees that fly through it
Are never calm or soothed

They’re still as busy as ever
Buzzing from bloom to bloom

Gathering their nectar and pollen
With their nimble limbs

With a blossom so divine
And ripe for the picking

How could a bee relax,
Take his time and wait?

Jazzy Blue

Why is blue the color of sad and low?
Of heartbreak and sorrow,
Of melancholy and tears,
I only feel happy when I’m around it

Blue are my children’s eyes
Bright sparkly and full of mischief

Blue are the Johnny-jump-ups
Smiling from our window box in the midday sun

Blue fills the space between the clouds
That we track from the hammock’s swing

Blue is the Mediterranean sea
Waves, café au lait and you

Blue are the berries
In the muffins I baked this morning

Blue is the flower cart
From grandma’s house, full of love and blooms

Blue is the topaz necklace
A present from my adoring you

Blue is not the color and sad and low
Blue is the uptick in the tempo
Blue is the pluck of the bass in a solo
Blue is the shabadoooooo as you close your eyes and smile

Brace yourself.... It's poetry week

I wrote some stuff over the weekend that seems, well not completely crappy - please, I'm soliciting honest feedback.....

Here's the first in the next post

call me eeyore today

I feel like Eeyore today.... all gloomy and rainy... and I'm usually more like Tigger!

Politics at work are kicking me in the ass today, in the fashion of 2002-2003 (and all of you who worked with me then know WHO I am talking about).. No, not my boss; her new boss reminds me of that one guy... So, I think I want to change my answer to the questions onthe Employee survey:

1. Do you have the tools needed to do your job? Today, I would say "Strongly disagree".
2. Does your management team support your efforts? today I would say "strongly disagree"
3. Do you believe the company supports our communities through charitable activities: Today I would say....... "Strongly Disagree"

Sorry - had to vent.... I'll be back to my usual Tigger self tomorrow... but I still want to change my answers...