Out my kitchen window, days 287-288

Day 287

I've had several bright potential-money-making ideas during my almost-50 years. One came to me several years ago as we were driving down the highway. I had the brilliant epiphany that billboards should be digitized so they could be easily changed and more ads could be rotated through. Seth discounted my brilliance with, "Too expensive. Would never work." Fastforward several years and what do we find along the highway but digitized billboards. [Update: After Seth read this post, he proceeded to tell me that he said no such thing and that he knew about digital billboards before we were even married. Sure, sure. Hindsight is always 20/20.]

Another idea that came to me was wireless electricity--they make wireless printers, wireless phones, wireless everything. So why not wireless electricity? Seth didn't even bother to respond to this flash of prescience. And yet what should I read in his Popular Science but an article on the advent of wireless electricity.

My latest million-dollar idea came Saturday morning as I looked out the window and saw a fresh dusting of snow covering the cars we didn't put into the barn the previous night. How easy it would be, thought I, to clean off the cars if only they had a button to push that would vibrate them, shaking all the snow off (I may have gotten this idea from a cartoon). Seth rolled his eyes.

People need to listen to me more. Or maybe more people need to listen to me. Or maybe just someone other than Seth needs to listen to me. I could be rich, I tell you. Rich.

Day 288

We took a picture of Kieran in his "church clothes."

Out my kitchen window, days 285-286

Day 285

Day 286

Not much exciting going on here in the Holler the past few days.

Oh wait, this just in: Seth has just announced, "What do you mean nothing exciting is going on [he apparently chose this moment to read the blog over my shoulder]? The boy is walking. I'd say that's pretty big news." Since he doesn't regularly (read: at all) read my blog, he didn't know I already posted about the big event. And when I informed him of said posting, he wanted it reiterated. So there you have, the boy is continuing to practice walking.

Out my kitchen window, day 284

Snow flurried all day today, although there wasn't much accumulation to speak of (except that I just spoke of the accumulation there wasn't).

Out my kitchen window, day 283

The gravel truck came today to replenish the gravel scraped away by the snowplow. At least, that's why I thought it came. Seth tells me there was no gravel on the lane when he came home. Maybe the gravel truck had other reasons to come down the lane . . . .

Out my kitchen window, day 282

The spring semester of the Good News Clubs has started, and this was the view when I returned from teaching at the first session.

Last night, we had another run-in with an oppossum in the hen house. For this one, even though this possum was smaller than the previous one, Seth brought out the big gun (the blah-blah-blah pistol-something). He didn't want to waste 10 rounds when 1 shot would do. Sadly, however, he hadn't the chance to use it since this oppossum was much wiser in the escape department than his (or her) predecessor. So, tonight, rather than relishing the victory of a kill, he cleaned the gun instead, carefully preparing it for the next time a little rodent dares to sneak into The House of Hen and Chick (said all echo-ey-like).

Out my kitchen window, days 280-281

I think the chickens are starting to grow on Seth.

Exhibit A: He bought them a "Flock Block" the other day so "they could have some variety in their diet." If that doesn't say, "You're OK in my book," I don't know what does. He insists he's merely concerned about their egg production, but I think he's harboring a secret affection for them as individuals.

In light of this, I felt it prudent for me to pursue my Apis dreams, assuring myself that Seth would come around on the bees just as he has on the chickens. And the above was the view after I returned from a Beginning Beekeeping workshop Saturday morning. The instructor made my Apis Adventures seem doable, and I'm ready to jump into a hive with both feet. However, I think, in light of the pregnancy, I'll use this year to accumulate the supplies and then start with the bees next spring.

Day 281 -- Another warm day, melting the snow and bringing the initial thoughts of spring.

Out my kitchen window, day 279

It was a beautiful sunny day. And warm enough to encourage the animals to come out of hiding.

A few friendly deer stopped by the chicken coop to check out the digs and say hey to Hen and Chick, who appreciated the company.

Out my kitchen window, day 278

We've been trying to get Kieran to walk on his own for several weeks, but he's stubbornly refused to let go of our fingers and manage by himself. However, this was the view when he finally took a few steps by himself.

Out my kitchen window, day 277

Since I seem to be in the confessional mood lately, I might as well confess that (some people think) I watch too much TV. It's by default, really--what else is there to do when you're snowed in a Holler for days on end? Oh, I suppose I could get creative and come up with various sundry things with which to amuse myself and Kieran, but TV-watching is more mindless and appealing to this tired mom.

To be fair, I should say that I watch more of it when Seth is on a marathon working spree, as he was the past two weeks (14+ hour-days when he's gone from 5am-9pm). I enjoy hearing other adult voices throughout the day, and it helps me feel connected to the outside world.

Two Saturdays ago, while Seth was working and Kieran was napping, I was flipping channels and stumbled upon an infomercial for a steam mop. Coincidentally (if I believed in coincidences), we had just been talking about steam cleaning the carpets, thanks to Kieran's many milk spills. And, I was looking for something to use on the kitchen floor other than the nasty mop/pail system I'd been using. So I was understandably entranced with a mop that steam cleans both hard floors and carpets. I had 8 minutes to decide if I wanted an H20Mop for just 3 easy payments of . . . oh wait, there was more . . . .

I decided to check it out online and then decided to pull out SIL Rose's trick: check ebay. And voila! There it was for much, much less than the 3 easy payments, plus, I could get the "more" for less than the original offer!

So, I ordered it, and the friendly neighborhood UPS man delivered it yesterday. I put it together and used it this morning, and I actually really enjoyed it. It uses a lot less water than the mop/pail ensemble and seems to clean better, as well.

And now for the real reason you read this blog . . . a video of Kieran . . .


. . . playing with one of his toys.

Out my kitchen window, day 276

Water, water everywhere

And all of it is white

Water, water everywhere

The cistern's in a plight

Not one of my better poems, is it? The cistern's been low on water lately, but since we're surrounded by stuff that could fill it if it would just melt, we haven't called for the water truck to make a delivery. Today, I shoveled more snow into the tank. Such is the life of Holleress.

In other news, I took Kieran to the doctor today for a well-child visit. The doctor said he was in the 50th percentile for his weight and 75th percentile for his height. The height especially surprised me, but I'm thankful he's growing so well. (This isn't a very good picture -- sorry.) He also got 5 vaccines, which he wasn't happy about. But the tears dried up fairly quickly and he seems to be doing fine now.

Out my kitchen window, day 275

The Second Great Snowstorm of February 'Ought Ten is upon us. Another 4+ inches has fallen in the Holler, and more will fill our yard by nightfall. This is the view out the side window as our kind neighbor used one of his "toys" to plow the driveway for us. I believe he also made several trips up and down the lane plowing that, as well.

Out my kitchen window, day 274

This was the view as I left for a church-sponsored showing of Fireproof,

and Seth left with Kieran to get some water to fill the cistern.

Fireproof is a good movie--Judi would probably rate it as a 12-hankie movie (or, in my case since I had no hankies, a one-long-scarf movie).

Out my kitchen window, day 273

This was the view at 6pm--when the sun was still shining enough in the Holler to enable a nice picture.

Out my kitchen window, day 272

I decided to interview myself today.

Me: Thanks for agreeing to the interview.

Me: You're welcome. It's my pleasure.

So, why did you feel the need to interview yourself today?

Um, you're the one asking the questions. Why are you interviewing me today?

OK, OK. Let's get down to business. Do you have something special you'd like to tell the good folks reading this blog?

Yes, I do.

And that would be . . . ?

Well, I'm pregnant.

Wait, what? You are? Really?

You know as well as I do that I am. Stop being silly.

Just having a little fun with you. So, now to the pregnancy questions. When are you due?

September 21. I'm about 8 weeks along right now.

And how are you feeling?

You should know. Waves of nausea all day, appeased only by food, and overwhelming tiredness, appeased by a nap when Kieran naps. Other than that, well and healthy.

Do you know whether you're having a boy or a girl?

Not yet--we'll find out in a few months.

Do you have a preference on the gender?

Why yes, I do. I'd prefer a boy since we're well equipped with boy stuff--purely pragmatic, but that's how I roll. And if the baby is a girl, well, let's just say she'll be wearing a lot of blue.

Any names picked out yet?

Whoa, slow down there a minute, horsey. We don't even know the gender yet. However, if the baby is a girl, I will do everything in my power to name her Anastasia, while Seth will do everything in his power to name her something else (he doesn't believe in using family names).

Did you just call me a horse?

Metaphorically speaking, yes.

Moving on. Are you concerned that this baby will have Williams Syndrome?

No. The likelihood of having another baby with WS is the same as before we had Kieran--WS comes from a spontaneous mutation in one of the gametes--Seth and I are not "carriers" of the syndrome.

Will you have more children after this one?

Let's just get through this one first, OK? This may be the last one these old bones can handle. I am almost 50, you know.

Don't remind me. Anything else you'd like share?

Just this sonogram picture, taken a few days ago. I think he's the spitting image of Seth.

Well, it was nice chatting with you.

Not like we don't do it all day, anyway.

Yes, well, now everyone else gets to listen in our conversation. TTFN.

Ciao.

Out my kitchen window, day 271

 

This was the view this morning when the neighbor got stuck driving out her driveway. 

 

I'd like to say that I offered to help, but I didn't, so I won't. I did, however, take this picture while she and her son tried to get the car unstuck. (Really, what was I supposed to do--help push? call someone? offer moral support? shake my head and say, "wow--good luck with that"? She finally did what I would have done--left the car there and called her husband to come help, which he did.)

Out my kitchen window, day 270

Kieran seems to have caught a bit of a cough. And I thought it prudent to run the humidifier to help his breathing. Only the humidifier that I was so in love with just a few days ago has stopped working.

So I had to resort to the pot-on-the-stove technique for humdifying the air. To save cistern water, I'm using melted snow. And to try to alleviate some of Kieran's congestion, I added some soothing vapor bath to the pot. Now the house smells like menthol. At least there's moisture in the air.

You know you live in a Holler when . . .

. . . your neighbor gets a pig just to spite the other neighbor with whom he is feuding, and then gets rid of the pig a few weeks later when he realizes he's mainly spiting himself.

Out my kitchen window, day 269

Another snowstorm came through today, with more snow expected overnight. We got 6 more inches, and everything and their mother is closed. Except Seth's place of work. Six feet of snow could cover the highway, and they'd still refuse to call off work. And Seth, being the dedicated hard-working guy that he is, refuses to refuse to go in.

I, on the other hand, have no qualms about giving the "I live in a Holler and can't get out" excuse. Or, I should say, had no qualms about giving the excuse when I was employed full-time. Now that I'm a full-time stay-at-home mom, however, I've found Kieran doesn't really buy that (or any) excuse.

Out my kitchen window, day 268

This was the view when I arrived home after receiving a written warning (instead of a ticket) from a friendly neighborhood police office for making an illegal left-hand turn at an intersection in town.

I may have led him to believe I did not see the large NO LEFT TURN sign hanging right by the traffic light. . . . OK, so I did lead him to believe I didn't see the sign. . . . OK, so I lied about not seeing the sign, hoping that he wouldn't give me a ticket but would let me off with a warning. And it worked. I've never claimed to be perfect--just a sinner saved by grace.

My conscience is giving me a slight twinge which I'm trying to assuage by replying that I've learned my lesson ("no left turn" really does mean "no left turn") and have promised I'll never do it again. That makes it OK, right?

(Disclaimer--my parents did not raise me to lie to police officers, and I do not condone such practices.)

Out my kitchen window, day 267

This was the view when our friends arrived for our Super Bowl party Sunday afternoon. There was good food, good fun, good fellowship, slightly good football, and . . .

. . . good "sharing" of the pour-over butter popcorn between spouses Dan and Marcia.

Georgia and her daughter also got in on the popcorn action. And I have two whole bags of it left to consume on my own. Yum.

Out my kitchen window, day 266

About 5 inches of snow covered the ground when I awoke this morning at 8 am.  Poor Seth had to leave for work at 6 am, before the lane (and probably most of the surrounding roads) was cleared at 11 am.

Out my kitchen window, day 265

This was the view out the side window when Kieran and I watched as the Great Snowstorm of February 2010 began.

And this is the view out the kitchen window during the Great Snowstorm of February 2010. The weather prognisticators are prognosticating we'll have 5-8 inches by the time the storm passes through. We shall see.

Out my kitchen window, day 264

This was the view at precisely 5:37 this evening. And there you have it.

Out my kitchen window, day 263

He's 15 months old today.

(Note: Haircut compliments of Seth.)

Out my kitchen window, day 262

I've mentioned several times before that our house water comes from a cistern. The rain and melting snow run off the roof of the house, down the drainpipes, and into the underground tank that holds our water. I should stress that we do not drink this water--unlike, say, Seth's younger brother Ethan who lived here for a bit before we moved in (if you have any questions as to why he's a bit peculiar, this may explain it)--we use it for showers, laundry, washing dishes, etc. We buy bottled water to use for drinking.

The water is filtered before it goes into the cistern and is also fitered once it comes into the house. However, it is rainwater and it is from the roof and so a certain amount of particulate accumulates in the tank (which Seth has been threatening to clean for the past three years) and makes its way through the filters. We don't bathe in mud, mind you, but there is "stuff" in the water. Are you grossed out yet? Just keepin' ir real here in the Holler.

We also use the cistern water to fill up the humidifier. Over time, the particulate accumulates in the humidifier and causes it to cease functioning. This happened a few days ago. And I felt its loss keenly at night when my eyelids would scrape across my corneas as I opened them, and I could feel every air molecule passing across my nostrils, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth because it was so dry.

On Sunday, I began boiling a larget pot of water on the stove, hoping to mimic a humidifier. It worked, except that Seth and I couldn't agree on how how hot the burner should be. Apparently, enough was enough for Seth, and he stopped after his long work day yesterday to pick up a new humidifier, pictured above. When I took the kitchen-window photo, I had turned the humidifier on full blast, hoping to alleviate my shriveled, prune-like skin. To keep this humidifier from meeting an untimely demise, we're filtering the water through a Brita pitcher. Hopefully that will keep out most of the "stuff" and grant us many more days filled with humidity.

Out my kitchen window, day 261

This was the view when I began making a spinach quiche for dinner.

And this is the view of the spinach quiche after it was made and partly consumed by Kieran and me (Seth was still at work when we sat down to dine).

Out my kitchen window, day 260

This was the view after I finished quietly snuffling my way through the previously recorded Hallmark Hall of Fame movie The Magic of Ordinary Days while Kieran napped. I always tell myself I won't cry during a Hallmark movie, and then somehow, a few tears always manage to escape no matter how stiff my upper lip is.