the blue line: may contain strong or offensive language ie pinkeye.

Beach's gym is hosting a gym meet this upcoming weekend. Fun. I work, Beach competes, I work some more, and Beach has a birthday party to get to, I work some more, and Fisher's mom is in town to visit with him. More than likely that will include a fight about a motorcycle. A motorcycle 3/4 of his parents agreed on but she said no to, then yes, then no, then prayed about it and said god said no. I'm not sure if god signed off on her keeping all of his hard earned summer job funds from him over it, that is a grey area.

I should ask her since god and I don't talk... 

Feeling a bit scattered the kids and I decided we should make a giant calendar on the wipe board detailing the events of the next few days just to keep the farm running smoothly. Things are going to be a little crazy and I can tell you it is the dogs who are getting the shit end of the stick. Oh wait the chickens, I totally forgot about the chickens!

In blue marker I have 3 days listed: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

Thursday almost looks normal. Just a few items like: Fish to school, Beach to gym, Misty to work... 7:30 Sarah-Mom pick up from gym drop Beach to"?", Misty 8PM pick up Sarah-Mom & go to gym set-up Lehi. 

Okay that question mark at where exactly Beach is going might be something I need to work out- I have options. But still pretty normal-ish.

Friday looks a little stranger. It has lots of times and arrows, a few stars, extra names like Alexis: dogs, added tasks like hijack Sophie early from school, carpool gym rats to Lehi for pre-meet practice, work/gym in Lehi, and Fisher's mom pick Fisher for weekend from school or home (?). 

Maybe it is the kids who are getting the shit end of the stick...anyway... 

Saturday is the craziest. It starts early and ends late. This is the madness and fun (no sarcasm) of meet season & putting on a gym meet. Doing it without BC running backup sucks. I think I have people I have never met helping me out. I might ask the animals to buddy up and take care of each other, although the lower on the food chain they are the trickier it gets to find a good buddy. Plus you can't ever trust the cats with anything.

And in a twist I have Sophie's dad getting both of the girls ready for a meet by himself. There are also a few task still with openings; apply within.

 Before I could finish this post Wednesday got added to the board.
Get trash cans out, lend Alexis the big red van (omg! look out slc!), drop Alexis's car off to mechanic but pick up it backup by 5PM, Beach to my mom's, go to the doctors (maybe), run paper work for Conner to Layton (if needed), pick up Beach & Sophie from gym 7:30PM, keep Soph overnight because the little kids at her mom's house have pinkeye. 

Which caused me to return a call to Sarah-Mom that started with "Fuck you, they have pinkeye?!" Trust me, there will be a part B to this post. I can feel it.
Until then: Go team! And we totally got this <3 
 

wish you were here, postcards from the farm

This is Beach. Around her all hell is breaking loose. Her uncle and her brother and even her mother are trying to trouble shot an electrical problem in the mudroom. 

Turns out I didn't just blow a fuse, mine or the house's. 

The house around her has an end of the world vibe as the boys pull fuses and shut down power to sections of the house. Electronics powered down and candles lit.

She is completely unaffected by it all.

The total disaster with the eye doctor most of which went down in front of her via the phone. The end result was a set of mismatched not completely correct contacts costing twice what we were told, a 2nd unprocessed refund hopelessly pending, lots of finger pointing between the front office, one f bomb, one phone call asking my parents for a short term loan, and a transfer of all Beach's records back to the expensive clinic.

The washer with frozen pipe at day 4. Where I got desperate, or more accurately got pressure from a 15 yr kid who had just spent a week in Moab and would like clean clothes sooner rather than later. So then I broke something overloading an outlet or a circuit or just an old house in my attempt to speed up the defrosting of the washer.

The one thing I haven't mentioned is I know from past experiences that when the washer freezes sometimes, roughly about half the time, things break somewhere inside. That makes it hard to hold out much hope for an easy solution. 

So it's winter in this old farm house. The mudroom is hardly beautiful and not exactly an inside or outside space; it is a room you always wear shoes in. And there are always complications with spaces such as these.  

Around here you put on big boots and a farm coat and walk over the crusty snow to the coop get eggs. You carry clean water from here to there in metal buckets and feed the chickens from old coffee cans both of which stick to your skin in the cold. You break up ice chunks and secure bedding. 

There is a rabbit and dogs and a few cats. Its all the same. 

The greenhouse has its own requirements, heaters and fans that need switching on and off. But late at night you can slip on the same big boots and cross the yard to the glow of the string of lights hanging inside the thin billowy frame. That is where the hot tub waits.

I don't have a way to make all this tie neatly back in. Yesterday just wasn't neat. There are other storms brewing. Meet season hanging heavy on the horizon (and the pocket book). Even the bench at gym was lacking luster. 

The day and the night sort ran like slow moving lava. Those of us able to make it to higher ground did pretty damn well and those of us who didn't quite get there just keep passing the phone off to those who did because the last thing BC needed to hear me say was what I was thinking and feeling about the whole thing. Instead he got to hear about who said what at gym and about India and about India's dog...

And this is Beach. She is an island. She doesn't care that the only vegetable left in the house is one lonely napa cabbage. 

life in the land of oz

I suggested the kids go for a walk. Perhaps do some trespassing. Even offered a few good place they might enjoy. Being a practical mother I cautioned them about not getting picked up by the police, to cross streets carefully, and to not step on rusty nails. 

Once they were gone I laid down on my yoga mat and listened to the silence. The day was not going exactly as planned. 

I pause before offering this next detail because even I know there are somethings a grown-up shouldn't admit to...yeah, that would be a bad idea but I like bad ideas, here is the whole story...

I had 2 events this weekend that required funding: the gym meet on Saturday, check. And the gingerbread house party on Sunday, shit, forgot about that one and it was scheduled for my place. 

So early-ish Sunday morning, the day of the party I had headed to the store, well kind of I did. After little red sputtered to a shaky start in the driveway I decided let's try that again because going to the store is one thing, being able to come home is another. 

I pulled the key out of the ignition, noted I had started it with the gym key, doesn't matter, oh little red. I tired it again this time with the real key and nothing. 

No big deal. Since BC bought a truck it's sort of like a car lot around here. I simply climbed into the next car over which was the big red van. The van always starts but it also tends to never have a full tank. And as my luck would have it BC left it on empty. 

Despite my own mental objections to driving on empty I drove big red and the glowing low fuel light to the dollar store where I purchased 15 dollars worth of candy. This is where that not great for sharing detail shows up: that was my last 15 bucks.  

See one of BC's boys is/was due to deliver me some funds at some point yesterday. That math is pretty simple- he hasn't come. He will, he just hasn't yet.

It gets better. Me, the low fuel light, and a bag of candy came home just in time to discover that due to illness the party had to be canceled- dang. Knowing I just spend our last cash on candy (wow) I offered it to the kids. I mean what the hell anyway? 

Then strongly encouraged them to go find something fun to do, yes such as trespassing, or better we call it urban exploring. 

So that is why I was lying on my yoga mat listening, then laughing- (well, and the fact that I had turned my ankle kickboxing and standing had stopped being fun hours ago). And that was were I was when I looked up and saw that spider overhead on the ceiling. 

No BC, no kids, no way in hell I could leave it to live in my house or be the person who gets close enough to kill it.... I wondered if I got Beach's bird and taped it to a long stick and aim it's beak at the spider if it would eat it for me. I figured it might work but that I would most likely lose a finger during the taping phase of the plan- still I considered it for a long time.

I spent half an hour not being able to do anything but watch the spider before I finally sucked it up and killed it using a fly swatter. Which I then refused to pick up because it had touched the spider. 

The dead spider lay under it until the kids returned. Beach used a tissue and cleared the crime scene. It was a good hour before I allowed Beach who had touched the spider to touch me.  

By the end of the day, after having a discussion with my son about the dangers of siphoning gas from one car to another (him lecturing me not to do it) Beach and Sophie, who by that point had joined us, were eating a dinner of potato wedges and shooting orange jello, over, under, and through, the largest display of dollar store candy wrappers and cheap frosting while I argued to Jeff, Sophie's papa, that essentially potato wedges are the same as baked potatoes and baked potatoes are a meal....

He had come in the house laughing having already past little red in the driveway, hood up, battery charger connected. Luckily for me he was still laughing at my disaster when he left. "I'm around tomorrow, call me if you need me..." or did he say "when"?

Overall I think things are going pretty well.
                   

yep. law enforcement is our friend (July 2011, Hiking without happymeals)

yep. law enforcement is our friend ~mlb

Law enforcement is our friend even when they have to cowboy up & be that good friend who is willing to tell you you have something stuck in your teeth, or how about that you have a hole in your insurance coverage? 

Our old policy expired this week before BC & I could forge an agreement on a new carrier. The only thing we could agree on was it wasn’t going to be the old one.  We felt like the Federal Government hopelessly dead locked.  

So I was taking a chance driving Beach to gymnastics.  I mean really what are the odds?  (Heard this out of my mouth before?)  

Pretty good as it turns out.  And you can see where this is going, we got pulled over.

The officer exits his highway patrol vehicle in the rain. 

“Good afternoon Miss, can I see your license, vehicle registration, & proof of insurance?”

“I don’t have my license on me.” I say opening the glove box. “What does the registration look like?” I ask handing him through the window every damn paper in the glove box.  

This accomplishes 2 things.  First and foremost it changes him from an Officer into a man, a woman just asked him to use his man skills to help her, serve & protect kick in to high gear.  He is instantly sweeter.  And second it uncovers my registration because I really have no fucking idea what it looks like.

He hands me back the rest of the papers along with the car’s owner’s manual, a drawing of Beach's, & a straw.

“Here is the insurance card but we are in the middle of changing policies and honestly Sir I don’t think we have coverage.”  

There. My crime spree is ended.  I feel relieved to have it all behind me.

“Well we can deal with that but the reason I pulled you over was your registration is expired.”

BUZZ. Wrong, that is not the crime I am busy committing. Wait what?!?!

“What do you mean my registration is expired?!”

“Expired Miss, back in May.”

“Okay that I didn’t know.  The questionable insurance coverage and not having my Utah DL I will own but had I known about the registration I would not have driven this car.”

“It’s going to be okay, just hang tight for me for a moment and I will look up the Driver’s License and we can check the insurance.”

Then the second Highway Patrol car pulls in.  

Now I should tell you that back on the highway I saw the first HP looking at me I pulled off early onto 700 East and when he followed and the lights went on I pulled into the parking lot of the The Salt Lake Running Company.  So I’m in the little red Subaru in the parking lot of a running store with 2 Highway Patrol cars surrounding us. Yep. This getting good. 

I have had other brushes with the law.  I got pulled over about 10 years ago oddly enough in another Subaru wagon gunning it to try to get some speed behind me just to make it up and around the east side of 215. 

“Do you know you were going 85 miles per hour?” he asked.

*Laugh, snort*, “Officer this car could not go 85 if you pushed it off a cliff and any way I wasn’t.  I was going fifty because I was in fifth.  My husband taught me to drive and he told me first is ten, second is twenty, third thirty, fourth forty, and fifth fifty.”  *Girl Smile*

His turn: *laugh, snort*, “Hold on a minute Miss.”  I could see him laughing so hard he was shaking as he walked back to his car trying to compose himself.  Ten minutes later with no luck and even less composure, tears streaming down his face he got out of his car and waved me away. 

I could see this was not going to end that way because then the third car pulls in.

That’s right I am so BAD it takes 3, count them 3 HP’s to take me in…or simply there was a horrible crash up the interstate a few miles from me and my crime spree & they were all hanging around the aftermath.  

So he issued me a warning about not carrying my DL, a ticket for the expired registration, & a good chance to prove I actually do still have coverage under the old policy for three more days.

“Now we could in-pound the car but I’m not going to do that to you so if I were you I would leave it here until you have your proof of insurance but we are going leave and what you do when we leave is up to you.”

I have older sisters I’m not falling for that one.  I take Beach’s hand walk her in front of a 3 HP cars into The Salt Lake Running Company. The doors slide open and the staff gasps but it’s okay I am among my people here.  

“I brought the police with me.” I laugh standing in my Adidas T-shirt, running shorts, sports watch, & new balance running shoes.

“What did you do?” One of them asks.

“My car isn’t registered.  Can I use your phone?”

  

In the end Beach was a half hour late to gymnastics with very little appreciation for the humor of the situation and I got to drive Chester the Molester Van home while BC sneaked Little Red the Suburb Mom Wagon the back way home down 27oo South to our mechanic.

You just got your ass pulled over by 3 HP officers & lived to tell about it what are you going to do?  I’m going to get my Driver’s License, walk to 7/11, & buy some beer.  I could really use a drink.

remains of the days

It isn't all picture perfect like straight garden rows. This life is messy, sometime bloody. What I like best is that it is real.

BC is once again planning for out of town work. He keeps telling me the things he needs to get done before he goes like, "I want to get all the extra cocks roaming around here gone before I go so you don't have to mess with them." Yeah so, not great with the words but he is a thoughtful guy.  

He has lists for things to be done in the greenhouse and turning over the garden beds.

Firewood.

Of course to finish putting up this deer.

I think he has forgotten about his bees...

but they seem fine even without him remembering them.

Then there is this little creature.  

This is a great place to raise her.

A good piece of land filled with real life and real death.

I'm sure he hasn't forgotten her. 

She's hard to ignore and easy to please.

I wonder, what else remains around here?

surrender dorthy

I have given up on returning Poncho, the one eared neighbor dog. Right after he learned to obey "go home" he began showing up in the yard limping. I don't have the heart to keep taking him back to a home that clearly doesn't love him.  Plus, he is running out of accessory body parts.

Another item I have given up on is trying to sort out what is up with Beach- she isn't well enough to go to gym. The only way I know that is because when I told her she wasn't going she didn't freak out. Honestly, I can't remember the last time Beach missed gym. My doctor who happened to call to check-in didn't offer me a lot of sympathy on the subject. "Really, a patient that won't tell you what is really going on with her- that must bite."  

Beach is slow and looks not-quite-right. She isn't eating, isn't hungry, but isn't puking.

And yet, sure enough, 3:29 she suddenly asked if she could go to gym. I offered a compromise- she takes the day off to rest without feeling guilty about "missing" workout and I will let her carve a pumpkin.  

Then I told her if she cuts off one of her fingers she won't be getting to go to gym tomorrow either. At least she is smiling. Actually we all our, I just found that BC took the wrong cooler hunting: he has the juice boxes leftover from the party and I have all the beer.  

Yes, Poncho, you can stay for dinner.