Groundhog Day

Today Jay popped up from his underground den and checked for his shadow. Okay, actually, he tunneled his way from our couch to the end of the deck through four feet of snow and scared the crap out of our neighbors who were walking by and saw him standing between the railing and a snow drift taller than him. Chris stuck his head out of the sliding glass door and waved nonchalantly at the neighbors, probably catching them just in time to avert a call to the local child protection service...

Jay tried to convince me to let him have a camp out tonight in his snow tunnel. When I demurred, he told me that AS SOON as he wakes up in the morning, he is going back out there. He has plans for adding a few extra rooms, complete with snow furniture and snow blankets.

Snow is a resource we have plenty of at the moment. I think the official count from yesterday's blizzard was 14 inches (I also think I just made that up, but there are entire websites devoted to that kind of information and only one website devoted to crap I make up, so this is where it's at people). Snow drifts were much, much higher. Chris went snowshoeing this afternoon and walked on snow that was five feet off the ground. I stayed inside and feverishly cleaned and scrubbed everything I could get my hands on, because oh my god, this condo is filthy and don't you know there is a baby coming, a baby that will need a clean place to sleep and nurse and crawl and we can not POSSIBLY bring a baby into this world if that teapot continues to have hard water deposits on it, DO YOU HEAR ME? Can you SEE the cobwebs on the floorboard of the bathroom? No? Get down on your hands and knees and cock your head to the side. There! Do you see them now? How can we LIVE like this?? Really.

Really. Between the spring cleaning itch and nesting fever, it is best to avoid contact with me for the next twenty or so weeks, unless you'd like to help Chris rip out our carpet and replace it with hardwood flooring. Nesting is only getting started, baby. Luckily, spring cleaning will end a little sooner. Jay did not see his shadow this afternoon.

(Probably because I compulsively scrubbed it off of the snow).

Blizzard

We’re under a blizzard watch until 6 pm tonight, but most of the snow has already come and gone. We’ve been out frolicking in it for much of the morning. Snow is an all purpose fun factory: snow ball fodder, fort material, sledding bedding, and for Ella, breakfast.



I am sure I’ll curse it tomorrow as I try to make my way to work, but since today is Sunday, it’s awesome.

All in favor of chickens. say "Aye"

Aye!!

Is it bad that I sent the entire family out of the condo on a rainy Sunday morning? Dressed them up in rain slickers and snow pants and sent them on their way, ignoring their protests and cries of , “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! We want to stay with Mama!” and smiled sweetly as I pulled on their rain boots and told them to have fun catching frogs and newts or whatever else might be out there that would be sort of slimy and intriguing to the toddler/preschooler set.

Chris is always up for a walk outside, so I felt no guilt there. I felt a mild pang of guilt in shooing Ella and Jay out the door as the weather oscillates from a cold drizzly pitter-patter to a strong, gusty full-on downpour. But as I sip my coffee and sidle up to the computer for a good session of journaling, my guilt melts away. Or at least I can’t hear it ringing in my ears over Ella Fitzgerald on Pandora. Eh, we’ll put them in a warm shower when they get home and follow it up with a cup of chamomile tea. They probably won’t remember this experience in thirty years, anyway. And if they do, it might be because they are doing the exact same thing to their kids so that they can reclaim the tiniest schnibblit of sanity.

But hopefully they won’t remember it in fifty years when they are choosing my nursing home, and I’m all, “Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I want to stay with YOU!” and they just smile sweetly and zip up my granny hoodie and orthopedic shoes as they shoo me and my walker out the door...

But who knows? Maybe they’ll actually have fun stomping in the rain puddles and catching frogs. And who knows? I might like Bingo and creamed corn.

So, really, I sat down to write about chickens. I want chickens. I have wanted to chickens for years. Egg providers, composters, entertainers, pets. Chickens are the overachievers of the animal world. And I want a flock of chickens so bad I can taste the fresh brown eggs.

When we bought the condo four years ago, it was understood that it was a starter home. Only a starter home. Something to earn us equity while we finished school and planned for our real home. A house. With a yard. Maybe even a small farm. With enough room for a huge, overflowing vegetable garden, berry bushes and some fruit trees. A bee hive and chickens would round it out. When Chris and I were both still in school, the condo made perfect sense. Who has time to mow the lawn or shovel snow when there are term papers to write and midterms to study for? And we’ve enjoyed being able to take off for an impromptu camping trip or day long road trip without worry about who will shut the hen house at night or collect eggs in the morning. We also haven’t had to worry about upkeep of the siding or replacing the furnace.

But lately our 1000 square feet on the third floor has seemed stifling. Incredibly limiting. Suffocating, almost. We crave more space, more room outside. The ability to fling open the back door and march the kids outside on a sunny day to play in the sandbox while we cook dinner or talk. The ability to step outside and pluck a fresh tomato from the vine or harvest kale or potatoes for dinner. And of course, the ability to collect fresh eggs for breakfast.

We have done the best we could with what we have. We have had a plot in the community garden a mile away every year that we have lived here. Our garden plot is bigger than our condo, at 1200 square feet. We spend as much time there as we can, but there is just something very different about having a mile in between your stove and your tomatoes. Sometimes that mile really makes a big difference. Plus, keeping bees and chickens there are against the rules.

We garden on our deck, the best we can too. We struggle since we have a very urban downstairs neighbor who abhors anything natural. She once called the condo association and complained because we had a hummingbird feeder. “ All birds poop,” she explained matter-of-factly to Chris.

We’ve had to take down our bird feeders, our bird houses and even limit what we plant on the deck because she has called the condo association more than once to report dirt falling between the cracks onto her patio from our upstairs deck.
Wonder what she would think about chickens roosting on our banister.
Wistfully, I pick up urban homesteading and simple living books from the library. “Get a set of chickens!” They advise. “They are cheap! Provide wonderful eggs! Easy to care for!” Urban chicken farming has really taken off the last several years. In many cities, it is quite common to see chickens picking their way through suburban lawns and roosting in backyard coops. Madison, Chicago, Seattle… urban chicks are chic. But trust me, I am not doing it because they are trendy (hey, don’t make fun of me. Trendy is relative, o.k?).

I want chickens because they just make sense. They eat your kitchen scraps and produce wonderful compost for the garden. They produce luscious, rich, colorful eggs. They are entertaining to watch strut around and peck at potato bugs. (Entertaining is also relative. We don’t have a T.V., ok.?) Did I mention the bit about the eggs? While Madison is chicken friendly, my condo is not. So, until the housing market picks up and we can sell this condo, I’ll have to continue to buy my eggs from the food co-op and longingly look though dreamy poultry catalogs (Hey don’t make fun of me. Dreamy is relative, o.k.?).

Gone Fishing

It is butt freezing cold here and we are trying to keep Jay from climbing the walls and swinging from the ceiling fans.

So, this afternoon we went ice fishing in our living room.

(What? This is Wisconsin.)

We drove to the craft store and picked up foam sheets in assorted colors, a package of small magnets, pom-poms and wooden dowels. From the grocery store we snagged a couple of empty cardboard boxes. Once at home we set to making up our ice shanty and stocking our lake with neon foam fish. I used a hot glue gun to secure a magnet to the foam fish we cut out. Then I tied fishing line to dowels and, on the other end of the line, I glued “bobbers” (neon green pom-poms) with magnets glued to their bottoms. Meanwhile, Chris set up his deer blind in the living room, which made for a very nice ice shanty.

When it was time, Jay and I left the condo to “go fishing”. We went down one set of stairs and back up the other, swinging our fishing poles and “hiking” through the rugged terrain of our condo building hallway. We walked back through the door and onto beautiful Lake Gavin two minutes later. This was enough time for Chris to set a piece of white foam board with a hole cut out of it over the top of our cardboard box with fish and put it into the ice shanty.

Jay could hardly contain himself. He played right along and pretended to shiver while we got into the shanty and pulled out our fishing poles. We scooped out the ice chucks from our hole in the ice with Chris’ ice scoop and we sat on upside down five gallon buckets and held our fishing poles over the ice hole. Jay reeled them in one after another. In the end though, we decided to catch and release, because as Jay informed me, "They were too small to keep."

But you should have seen the one that got away…

There Snow Place Like Home... Again

Just got back home. I tried to leave for the office this morning and after driving a quarter of the way amidst cars that were facing the wrong way and wheels spinning but getting nowhere, I pulled into a parking lot and called my boss. He was stuck at home, too, his back alley not having been plowed yet and no way to move his car out of the garage. It took me fifteen minutes to make it a mile and a half, and after white knuckling it for all of those minutes, I decided there was simply nothing I need at the office bad enough to keep driving. I turned around and headed back home.

It’s probably best that I am at home, anyway, as there is yet another board meeting today, and yet another nerve racking, bated breath, “ are we losing our jobs next month?” discussion. At least at home I can crank up the Christmas music and pretend that my job is not being discussed. Hopefully I will have a sense of how things went by this afternoon. Lovely that I was just sent a reminder from Outlook that the board meeting is starting this very minute. La, la, la, la… I’m not listening.
… I need a Christmas cookie.

On the upside, since I am back at home this morning I called Godzilla to discuss the terms of my student loan and potential pending unemployment. Turns out Godzilla has a really sweet phone demeanor. Also turns out that there is a program called “Income Based Repayment.” Also also turns out that we qualify. Also, also, also turns out that our income is so low that it qualifies us for making a monthly payment of ZERO for the first year. After twenty-five years in this program they forgive any remaining amount due. Godzilla has officially been downgraded to a newt. A Christmas newt.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

We are back from our frosty adventure to Hy-Vee and now are good on flour, pomegranates and eggnog. The walking was a bit treacherous and we had to walk in the road for most of it because few folks had gotten a chance to shovel their sidewalks, but we have a fabulous all terrain stroller and a case of cabin fever. Actually, we didn't really need flour... we just needed a really good excuse to get out for a walk.

Here's our deck, encased in snow:

Our all terrain stroller and the stroller pusher:

Scenes along the way:

Chris out foraging for pine cones...



The roads were hardly drivable...

Though folks didn't let that stop them...

Now we're back, warm and dry. Breakfast for dinner tonight. Woohoo!

There Snow Place Like Home

Not sure what the official tally is yet, but I figure we’ve gotten approximately a buttload of snow by now. We woke up this morning to this:

The snow was so deep that our bird feeders had afros:

Actually, I should say I woke up this morning to this. By the time I woke up, Chris was just getting back from an hour of snowshoeing. He cheerfully described it as beautiful and magical, the woods in back covered in snow, all quiet and peaceful. I groggily sipped my coffee and tried to unscramble my head. After the appropriate amount of caffiene, we geared the kids up…

And got out for some romping around, caught on video:


If the above video doesn't appear watch it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8BUZBy2CU0

Ella remains undecided on the snow, but Jay is a big fan. After throwing snowballs and dumping Ella out of the sled too many times to remember, we came inside and made Christmas ornaments for the tree and had Christmas cookies.

The snow continues to come down and we are enjoying our snow day thoroughly. Jay is having a good time playing with the snow from the comfort of the living room.



He poked holes into the three feet of snow on the deck and found that inside the snow it is a pretty glacial blue color:


...Back inside, we are entertaining ourselves with blocks of all shapes and sizes:




... And dancing to Celtic holiday music:





...And posing around the Christmas tree:



In a few minutes we'll venture out again, mostly because we're completely out of flour and have no bread products whatsoever. We did think to go to the grocery store yesterday before the blizzard hit, but somehow came home with three bags of cranberries, some hard candy and a half priced Advent calendar. We did not come home with anything we would actually, like, need to keep us going for several days, like milk or flour. Obviously, we would never make it on Survivor, unless they had a grocery store within walking distance. Then, for sure. Hope you're warm and safe wherever you are.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

As is usually the case, once I actually carve out enough time to post, I find myself writing more posts in my head, and thinking everything to be post-worthy and believing that everyone really is interested in the minutiae of my day. This is the case right now, as I have found it perfectly suitable to post about the weather, because, look, snow! And also, yay!

Weather forecasts indicate that we're in for 8 to 12 inches starting tomorrow afternoon and ending on Wednesday evening. Building snowmen and going sledding is probably just the thing I need right now to help distract from the anxiety that is settling into my neck and shoulders. Woohoo!

Feeling Spring

Maybe spring doesn’t officially start for another three days. But I wore shorts yesterday, I saw a Robin flitting about through the leafless trees, I heard Canada Geese honking as they flocked back from their winter homes, and green things are starting to push through the ground. We spent this weekend trying out different playgrounds, Ella had her first go at a swing and Jay walked barefoot outside. Spring is here. Yay!

This is a little early for the warm weather to stay, but it is in the works, and that’s the important thing. We’ll get several more cold snaps, I am sure, before spring works out all the kinks. Still, we got the call from our community garden organizer last week about what size plot we want (half plot this year) and we picked up seeds and checked out gardening books from the library. This year we’ll be doing squash, potatoes, tomatoes, broccoli, onions, lettuce, radishes, carrots, pumpkins, eggplant, Swiss chard, Brussels sprouts… and M&Ms.

I came across some poetry I wrote last year, for a class. At the time I thought it was a lame idea, a lame assignment, a lame class. Some of that may still be true. But reading back over the poems, I enjoyed them. I hope you will too:

I Think I’ll Plant a Garden This Year

I think I’ll plant a garden this year,
With M&Ms and ginger beer.
And six rows of vanilla beans,
To help shade the fudge ice cream.

Into the ground I’ll work butterscotch,
And eagerly, gummy worms I’ll watch.
They’ll aerate the soil and make it rich,
And how about chocolate for the drainage ditch?

I may be enticed to plant a snickers bar,
Though deer can smell caramel from pretty far.
So maybe I’ll just stick to Almond Joy,
Oreos and Chips Ahoy.

Of course, then I’ll have to reap and sow,
I may be sore from head to toe.
And then the mud and muck and dirt!
It may just ruin my pants and shirt.

Actually, this garden thing may be too much strain,
Planting, weeding, and waiting for rain.
It is all quite time consuming, I hear.
I think perhaps I’ll wait till next year.

On a Winter Day

The snow rains down on an impossibly icy day.
The trees are bare except a thin mask of white.
My cheeks sting from the cold. My toes ache.
I shiver. I breathe.

As I walk, the ice cracks beneath my boots.
Rabbit tracks wind through the snow and disappear. Magic.
I wonder where on Earth it went. Maybe a hawk’s supper?
I shiver. I breathe.

A gust of glacial wind blows clear through me.
I am ripped from my vanilla world of comfort and warmth.
Distressing yet strangely enticing. Beckoning.
I breathe. I walk on.


Sometimes Life Just Gets In The Way

Sometimes life just gets in the way
Of doing what really needs to be done.
Like walking through the grass barefoot
And watching fireflies.
Like seeing the magic of spring unfold,
And breathing cool clean air after a storm.
Like enticing a turtle out of its shell
And tracing mice tunnels through the snow.
Like noticing that cherry blossoms
Smell faintly like vanilla
And porcupines smell like anything but.
Like feeling dirt under your nails.
And hearing chickadees pronounce their own name.
Like smelling the damp earth
and knowing that soon there will be wildflower cacophony
on roadside ditches and unkempt lawns.
Sometimes life just gets in the way.

Ode to March. Or something.

Dear March,

I love you because you are the beginning of spring. You are the month Jay was born, nearly three years ago. You start with M and end with “arch”, when lots of months end in “buuuurrr” or something-ary.

You are different, beautiful. Cold, but not entirely unpleasant.

I like to move, and so do you. You are a verb in a calendar of nouns.

You remind us to get off our asses and run because spring is marching on and summer is coming with its bikinis and tank tops. You sweetly whisper not to fret the gray skies and frigid days because they will soon be gone. You often give us the first taste of those delicious warm days ahead, sprinkled bittersweetly with the delicate snow of a winter that is losing its grip on the land, and with it, my pasty white shoulders.

I love you because you are not January.

I love you because you push up fresh green shoots of hope through a frozen hard earth. I love you because you can’t decide between rain and snow, but February never even thinks about it. I love you because you let February have an extra day every few years, just because you’re swell and, like totally not a control freak.

Thank you March, for all you do and all that you are. See you tomorrow.

Me

It's damn cold.

Complaining about the weather doesn't do a lick but make you sound whiny. So, I am not complaining. I am simply stating a fact.

It is ass freezing cold here.

It is negative seventeen- repeat NEGATIVE FREAKING SEVENTEEN- without the windchill. Welcome to Wisconsin.

Schools have been cancelled for two days in a row because there aren't enough degrees to go around, and the school districts are worried about kids turning to Popsicles as they wait for the bus. Which, I don't understand, because I have never known a Popsicle to break out into a gratuitous scream or stick a wad of chewed gum into another Popsicle's hair. Seems like kidsicles are actually the way to go. You don't even need to feed them lunch.

When schools are closed for weather, our staff often works from home. Or "works from home". We figure the school districts are smarter than us. If they say it's too rough to go outside, we don't venture to the office. I don't venture to the office because it is too cold to drive there, but it isn't too cold to bundle the youngins up and drive just about anywhere else. In fact, since it was too cold to drive to the office, we spent the day driving around, running errands and taking Jay to the kiddie gym and the splash pool at the YMCA. Because it was too cold to drive to work.

I have never let logic cloud my thinking.

In my defense, we have cabin fever. With weather like this, frostbite can start in as little as ten minutes, and so we really have spent a lot of time at home. Working from home gets hard when hour after hour Jay sees me sitting at the computer and wants to play because Woohoo! Mama is here and not at the office! I can't seem to convince him that I am working. So after a few hours I throw in the towel and we pack up for the kiddie gym where Jay can jump on trampolines and launch himself into ball pits until he is a ruddy faced puddle of exhaustion. A few more hours of work over naptime, and then out to the YMCA for a swim at the splash pool to expend the last of his vast stores of energy.

I like to say he is "spirited", but sometimes I think he is really just possessed.

I'll get back to work now. Which really is work, not "work", because Chris is braving the temps to get Jay out of the condo while I get some reports done and emails fired off. If you have any degrees to spare, please send them ASAP. Kathy, Fed Ex is great, though maybe we could look into some kind of electronic transfer, which might work faster. Thanks, and I swear I'll pay you right back. As soon as degree payday comes.