Saying yes...

Guerrilla Tulips!!

Our yard is under attack this year, but by something stealthier than the usual thistle or Buckthorn. This year, we're experiencing random attacks by Tulips. Yes, you heard me, Tulips!
The one in the photo to the left seemed like a not-too-unusual surprise. It came up by a large Lilac bush that Grizzled had thinned this last summer.  There was a good chance it had been there all along and merely needed some sun and air to push forth. Or, maybe when digging up some of the roots, Grizzled loosened up the pre-existing bulb.
We have plenty of red tulips in the yard, some that came with the place, some that we planted. We admired this Tulips contributed and moved on...

Until... attack of Tulip #2... Tulip #2 wasn't even any of the colors of Tulips we had in our yard. This Tulip, as you can see, is more of a Chiclet purple... a color that looks intriguing and is fun and filled with promise and yet really doesn't look good on much other than a flower, Fruit Loops or the afore mentioned Chiclet. This baby showed up under a front bush where no other Tulips are planted. It's next to some Daffodils and the Bleeding Heart which looked fabulous this year. Maybe the Tulip just sensed a good time and wanted to join in.

The last guerrilla Tulip was sighted right in the middle of our swing set (please ignore all volunteer Buckthorns, Maples and Creeping Charlie... it's been busy and I haven't been able to go into full weed attack-mode yet). You can sit on the swings without stepping on it, but will swing right over it. There is no way, no how, that we would plant a Tulip in this spot. It would not be practical, but then maybe Tulips don't want to be practical, maybe we're the ones who are being too practical and the Tulips are showing us otherwise.

One thing I noticed is that the renegade Tulips showed up only in areas that had wood chips. The wood chips came from the village from the communal pile. Do you think there's a chance that some Tulip bulbs got mixed in and then were still covered enough to survive a wicked winter?

I'm guessing it might be a pesky squirrel. I'm guessing a pesky  squirrel probably broke into various neighbors' gardens and then buried the bulbs back in our "easy to dig in" wood chips which are located right next to our "easy to eat out of" bird feeders.

I've experienced plenty of volunteer flowers before and am hip to how they are spread, but I think this is the first year I've had volunteer Tulips. I'm guessing it was the squirrels and then the conditions were just right for the Tulips to survive. I'd like to think though that while we're asleep, Tulips are just running willy nilly through the neighborhood and when the sun shines and the people come out, they dive for cover wherever they might be.

There should be mandatory swinging... (non-filthbot edition)

My oldest lamblet is home today. She was sick when she came home from a weekend campout and although she was doing much better this morning, I'm a stickler for the fever and vomit-free for 24 hr rule.

She's been helping me sort through boxes of old stuff... school papers, keepsakes, photos. This has needed to be done for awhile, but I finally got over the resistance hump and have been going gangbusters. I'm spouting out new-ageisms as I go! "Let's make room for the now! Let's make room for the future!" My lamblets giggle, Grizzled ignores it just because he's happy I'm going through a bunch of stuff. He'll have to go through his own later.

It's a gorgeous day today, sunny, mid-70's, a cool breeze. The lamblet and I decided to take a break and go outside. She plopped down on a swing. I played for a bit with the dog, but soon joined her. We swung, we chatted. She cursed her gym class and the upcoming mile run. I cursed the weeds, but pretty soon, we were both swinging nice and high, chatting, laughing and everything seemed a little less serious. I think they should install swings in the Whitehouse (no Clinton jokes, please). I think they should install swings at the UN (no Bolton/Plato's Retreat jokes, please). I think every employee should have to swing for at least 5 minutes before the commute home. I'm thinking there will be much less road rage and fewer scuffles on public transportation.

End of sermon... back to the sorting.

I've been bitten by the meme bug...

Kathleen of Diary of a Heretic: Memes, Reviews and Books, has bestowed upon me the chance to play. It's an easy one, too. One word answers! Lots of room for negative space! It's really more like word association, so let me find a comfy couch and channel Dr. Freud...

Off we goooooo!

Yourself: Creative
Your Partner: Detailed
Your Hair: Crazy
Your Mother: Complex
Your Father: Ditto
Your Favorite Item: Pillow
Your Dream Last Night: Silly
Your Favorite Drink: Coffee
Your Dream Home: Peaceful
The Room You Are In: Office
Your Fear: Failure
Where Do You Want to be in 10 years: Here
Who You Hung Out With Last Night: Truman
What You Are Not: Neat
Muffins: Huh?
One of Your Wish Items: Room
Time: Gift
Last Thing You Did: Drive
What You Are Wearing: Dimples
Your Favorite Weather: All
Your Favorite Book: Lots
Last Thing You Ate: Strawberries
Your Mood: Expansive
Your Best Friends: Missed
What Are You Thinking About Right Now: Projects
Your Car: Un-Me
Your Summer: Promising
What’s on your TV: Nothing
What Is Your Weather Like: Mellow
When Was the Last Time You Laughed: Earlier
What is your relationship status: Married

Go check out Kathleen M's as well. She's got a wonderful post up about the woman who tagged her and although I could write about it as well, I'm not going to reinvent a perfectly good wheel.

I now tag... Oh! It doesn't say how many!??! Maybe I missed it. I'll just wing it. I will tag some of the usual suspects.

Snag
TLB
fish
Mary Jane
johnny rotten of sunnybrook farm
Shayera

What is this?!?!

I woke up late this morning. It's been really busy lately and last night I gave up the ghost and crashed. When I woke up I was kind of confused, not really sure what day it was, not sure if I needed to get up and then... then I realized there was this odd sensation on my face. Come to think of it, there was this odd presence in the room. Even my hair took notice. What was this??? Was I sick? Did I have a fever? I felt almost sweaty and my hair felt about 3 times bigger than it has for the past few month. I also noticed that I did not feel like someone had shoved cornflakes up my nostrils while I slept.

Aha! It's moisture! It's the return of humidity! It rained ALL day yesterday. It rained overnight. It was still raining a bit this morning. On top of it, it was 55 blessed degrees when I got up. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, looked in the mirror and saw a face that was not feverish, but a face that had been reunited with humidity.

I know I'll be cursing this humidity in a matter of months. I'll be cursing it as my hair starts wrapping like a vine around the nearest support. I'll be cursing it when there is no point to drying off once getting out of the shower. I'll be cursing it when it feels as if we're living in a dog's mouth, but for now... yes, for now, it feels wonderful.

My atmosphere has been rehydrated and all is right with the world.

And the Drama Cloud Passes...

It's been a funky few weeks lately. I've not been in sync with the life around me on any number of levels and I've probably taken responsibility for too much or have taken too much personally.

I'm not the only one, others seem to be coming out of a funk, rising out of a dismal haze. Maybe it's just the lengthening of the days. Maybe it's just focusing on what's important and not sweating the small, petty stuff. Maybe it's just realizing that this too shall pass so you better hunker down and enjoy the good as well, because it's not guaranteed either.

Things feel good right now. I was getting there, but the warmth outside, the emerging daffodils and the commonsense words of friends made it all the more clear and for that, I am grateful.

Have a good weekend everyone... and now, a song I've put up before, but it needs to be played again.

Kiss? What is... kiss??

In honor of the female alien who left this comment...  Now if YouTube only had a video of Plato's Stepchildren that showed Spock and Kirk doing the Tweedledee and Tweedledum dance...

My Nod to Brando and March Madness

It's March Madness time and Brando is all a'twitter...

It is the holiest day of the year...the start of the NCAA Basketball Tournament. I have been distracted from posting because, as usual, I am poring over basketball stats in the hope of making a bracket that doesn't suck. I will also be using my combined powers of wireless Internet and working at home to attach my office to the couch today and tomorrow. For the record, I have North Carolina, Wisconsin, Memphis, and UConn in the Final Four. Upset special is Davidson over Georgetown in round two, and Marquette getting to the Elite Eight. My bracket should be ruined by 4:15 Eastern today.

There was a time when I loved basketball. There was a time when I got caught up in the fervor. I went to a Big 10 school known for its team and then moved to a city where Michael Jordan ruled. I like basketball, I just don't follow it anymore. Now when March Madness rolls around, instead of pouring over the brackets, I think back to a time, long, long ago when a certain chair-throwing coach and I had a brief meeting.

At the end of my roller coaster college career, I was in need of one credit to graduate. I was fried, I was done, I was not going to take a 3 credit class at that point now matter how much I valued learning. That left me one choice, I'd be taking a Phys Ed class. My options were limited, only 2 classes were offered at this time. I could not take scuba diving, but saw a light at the end of my educational tunnel when I noticed they were offering "Bait and Fly Casting".

I had gone fishing once in my life when I was around 7, but I thought, what the hell... I'll take it. I was the only female and it was painfully obvious that everyone else had spent plenty of time fishing.  We actually did very little fishing in class, but spent the majority of our time in the gym casting weighted lures at hula hoops. I did learn my blood knots though and my muscles memorized the 2/10 or 3/11 or whatever positioning of cast and release it was.

At the end of the session, my glorious one credit in sight, we were told we were going to have a special guest. It seems an esteemed member of the university was not only good at throwing chairs, he was also good at throwing out a variety of lines. Yes, our famous coach was an avid fly fisherman. He was also going through a divorce, one of his many crises, so he was throwing out lines to many young women on campus.  I happened to be on the receiving end of one that day. He asked me if I might like to go fishing with him. I said thanks, but no.

I caught no fish in that class, but I did briefly snag a basketball coach and while I admired his basketball abilities and what he could coax out of a team, he was still kind of scary. I did not want to land this man, so I cut bait, scooped up my one credit, and ran.

Who Says Fish Are Cold-Blooded

Dr. Fish is giving us a glimpse of his softer side. Go read his post about his daughter's 2:30 AM wake-up calls. There isn't a parent alive who doesn't have a love/hate moment with that time when a sweet little child realizes they can get what they need from themselves and that we won't be heroes forever.

She had learned a lesson tonight. She had learned that she could not always rely on her father for comfort. She had learned to comfort herself. While this was the lesson that had to be taught, was the lesson I had taught, I found no comfort in it.

I found loss.

Read the rest here.

Overheard...

I overheard the eldest lamblet talking to her sister the other day. She saying something about, "Mom and Dad being semi-happily married for X number of years...". I had to step in and ask her what she was talking about. She said that her father and I seemed to be happy together, but there were also many times when we were less than thrilled with each other. As I started to launch off on my "Marriage is a Challenge No Matter How Much You Love Someone" speech, she cut me off and said, "No, I think semi-happily married is a good thing. The marriages where people are always swearing they're 100% happy are the marriages where one of them ends up dead!"

No doubt killing each other with kindness... :)

ATPCT: make-up edition

Yes, I know I said I was pulling the blinds on the blog for awhile. I'm still up to my neck in work that needs my whole focus, but I couldn't let the day go by without briefly touching on one of those nice surprises that you don't fully expect.

I had painting class again today. It was a make-up from a couple of weeks ago when my youngest lamblet was oh so sick. I was not looking forward to it. I had just gone yesterday and had had my usual struggles with those who say they want to be taught and yet show every sign they don't want to be taught unless you stop teaching... No, I was not looking forward to today, especially since it's really nice out and the snow and ice are melting and the sky was clear, but I went.

It was going to be a small class. Most people had previous commitments or just didn't like the thought of the schedule being changed. That's ok,  I thought. I'll take a small class. I'm not up for more and I was grateful when only 3 out of the possible 4 showed up.

The women ranged in age from late 60's to early 80's and also ranged in abilities. One had been painting longer than I have been alive and one only started this year. They all told me to just sit down and to not set up anything that they would work on their own stuff. So I sat and we talked. We talked and we listened and we opened up.

It was nice to hear their stories and for us to compare where we were at life-wise, etc. One of the women is turning 81 and is going into Senior Living center on Monday. Another woman is 72 and I would swear is no more than 58. She’s confident and adventurous. She does so many things and goes so many places and just seems very young for her age. I also love that she can ask for help and not mind being helped. The last woman, the one just starting painting, is in her late 60’s, she sounds like she's had kind of an odd and hard life, but she is so funny and is just full of insights. She was an accountant before she retired, but when I listen to her, I hear the heart of an artist. She sees things that only an artist can see.

It was a nice class. They worked on various painting projects, but mainly we just talked and even better, people listened. Today there was no one-upping, no passive aggressive tendencies, just a sharing of creativity and stories.

Today people painted, people talked and people listened. 

... and the blinds go back down...