Gotta love it. No, really. Well, maybe not.

Last weekend, DH covered up our ‘maters and zucchini and brought in the flower basket due to a frost advisory for early Sunday morning. All was well for our little garden, it being snug and warm.

Yet another frost “sort of” advisory followed for the wee hours of Monday morning — but neither of us made a move to cover up or bring in anything. How lazy can we get?

Fortunately the garden survived our unexplainable neglect. The sweet potato vine looked a bit sad, but snapped out of it. The jacob’s ladder was worse for the frosty morning, however I think it will come back. Everything else didn’t care and looks fine.

So today – Wednesday – we are supposed to be very close to ninety degrees.

Ninety.

Oh my word.

The farmers are working like crazy — which means DH is also. He’s already been told he’ll be working this weekend — and Memorial Day — so looks like it will be me and Soph cooking out.

In the garden…

…we have:

• asparagus — and we have been eating our fill!
• rhubarb — DH cut some for cobbler…now if he’d eat the brownies faster…oh, wait! Take the brownies out of the pan, wash it up, fill with cobbler. Got it.
• tomatoes…bigger girls? better boys?
• zucchini — hoping it stays disease free this year.
• a row of pansies — for you, Grandma PoPo!
• Yes, it’s a real small operation…

And new this year in the perennial beds:

• Creeping Jenny. I think it will be just the thing for the north side of the house, amongst the grape hyacynth and painted ferns.
• Creeping Phlox. On the border on the west side, in front of the Fireworks goldenrod, next to the steps.
• Mulch. I give up trying to fight all the combatants in The Year Of The Violet. Covering ‘em up.
• Less of sedum kamtschaticum. It does its job way too well – covering the ground — but it is taking over the purple cone flowers and daisies, and just everything in its path. So I yanked about a sackful of it up. It didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, I think it laughed at me…

As for the yard…

• I can’t say when the yard has looked better! The grass is coming in thick and lush — all the better to keep the weeds out — you too, violets — so I imagine as long as we don’t cut it too short, it should stay nice for most of the season.
• DH edged the yard — looks great!
• He also shoveled in some soil and seeded a couple spots left over from the new porch building last year.

What about the house?

• Put the window air in. Wish we had one that fit proper.
• Took down the plastic from the windows. Yay! If the windows were clean, we could see outside…
• Nothing else much got done and it shows.

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NP: JoC’s Long Fall Back to Earth

What’s Sophie doing? Eating her treat from her obedience class instructor — because we practiced walking at the fairgrounds and after a bit, she was getting the hang of walking correctly by me. Practice make permanent, I hope.

Waiting for: DH to get home. Looks like another long day for him.

Tonight’s TV viewing: Wah! No Chuck.  But there’s 24 and Castle. Seems I blogged about this last Monday. How dull.

Furlough Bullets: Final Installment

Friday:

• Rearranged the CDs/DVDs/VHSs/books on the shelves in the bedroom. Got a boxful of videos to get rid of — yay!
• Had tacos for lunch…at 10:30 AM…
• Talked to J.
• Talked to Mom and Dad. They may or may not be coming for a visit this Sunday… depends on the SNOW we are supposed to get.
• Pulled out both of the under-the-bed storage containers that are full of my genealogy stuff. I sorted and threw away clippings that were in overabundance (Gee, Grandma PoPo! You had newspapers clippings of all the floods to hit P-town! I saved a representation of them, so don’t worry…) and when I was done reorganizing, I had room for more stuff!
• And of course, a perusal of my family history sent me on an internet detour… but I still don’t know who Mrs. Frank Williams is, even though she says she’s a cousin to Grandma PoPo’s husband and signed his autograph book back in 1910. Golly. Nearly a century ago. When he was seven.
• Shredded more of my life away.
• Realized I hurt my back. And knees.
• Took Sophie to the park for a walkie. Ran into B’s mom and Charlie the huge…Irish setter/wolfhound? This is a BIG dog! Made the most of this meet-and-greet (part of the Good Canine Citizenship test that Soph will be taking). Soph and Charlie were nose to nose just fine and dandy, until Soph realized Charlie had a human with him…then she did her sparkles dance (a test no-no), but after I told her to sit, B’s mom skirched her wee head and Soph was quiet and did good. Can’t wait to tell the instructor tomorrow!

All that worrying

…and I am not an inch taller.

Friday came and went without any office layoffs.

Rumors schmoo-mors!

Still not out of the woods yet…

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And completely forgotten in the midst of all this fussing about was U of I Extension’s Flower/Garden Expo that H and I are going to tomorrow in R-town. Totally slipped my  mind. Thank you very much Stress.

Workshops and food. What more could I want?

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NP: Well, a few minutes ago –  Hot Chelle Rae’s “I Like To Dance”

Where’s Sophie: Sacked out in her crate. She did not want to leave her rawhide chew tonight, though. Had to sort of distract her with liver treats. Oh, and she piddled on cue again. What a dog!

What was I thinking?: I keep forgetting that Sarah Connor Chronicles is on Friday nights now. So instead I netflixed a biography on Theodore Roosevelt…and slept through part of that.

Well… IIII’ll Be! — Gomer Pyle

First — let me introduce you to my GGGrandpa Samuel B. Cook and GGGrandma Susanna Rice Cook.

Grandpa Cook (1817-1900) and Grandma Cook (1817-1870) were married Aug. 26, 1841 and came from Pennsylvania to eventually settle in southern Illinois in 1863.

I’d like to think these are wedding portraits…I think the medium is either pencil and/or charcoal. I came about them very accidentally — serendipity sort of comes to mind — and depending on the season, they sit on the fireplace mantle. The frames are modern, the glass UV and the mats archival. I hope they will last another 150 years!

Their daughter, Sarah Jane Cook Rutherford (1850-1920) and John Calvin Rutherford (1850-1916), were the parents of my great-grandfather James L. Rutherford (1883-1964).

While this person is not identified, I believe it is Sarah:

And this child has been identified as James Rutherford:

And of course, I think I have shown you this cute picture of James and his older sister Susanna “Susie” Rutherford Lambert (1879-1958):

Which brings me to H’s observation.

She says my first grade picture at the right resembles Grandpa Sammy…

Hmmm…

Wish I could get my hair to stand up like that.

(By the by–if anyone happens to see this post and thinks we might be related, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT! Yes, H, I know you are related…)

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NP: The local news and the space heater.  Will Blago ever go away? Will it ever be warm again?

What I will not be doing this evening: Boot camp. Have to give these old knees a rest.

TV viewing tonight: Lost (a Desmond episode!) and Life On Mars

Where’s Sophie?: On Daddee’s lap.

Why we moved the bird feeder…

…to in front of the dining room windows:

This picture was taken from the garage door — had to do some zooming in.

What’s really cool is that now we can watch the birds from the dining room, looking down through the slightly opened blinds — and the birds are none the wiser!

Besides Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal, there have been chickadees, a gold finch, and a nuthatch come to visit. No so sure what’s up with the house finches…they used to be regulars when the feeder was by the sunroom…maybe they don’t like the new location.

Dirty fingernails

Spent quite a lot of time in the garden this weekend – probably a good thing or else I’d have to change my name from Mumsflowers to…well, something else.

Saturday morning I weeded around the church flag pole and watched as the veteran flower gardener plant her favorite annuals. The bleeding heart she planted last year is just gorgeous right now and the daisies are all but blooming. She added petunias, marigolds, and a couple other varieties whose names escape me right now.

In the afternoon I planted four “early girl” and four “beefsteak” tomatoes and a hill of zucchini in the family garden patch. H supervised mostly, but did lend a hand at turning over the earth for the tomatoes and helped hauling water.

Today DH had to go to work in the afternoon — so to fend off mindlessly wasting the day, I headed to our local Ace Hardware to pick up some pansies to put around the flowerbeds. The pansies are in honor of Grandma Popo who loved their little monkey-faces so much.

Of course, I didn’t stop with the pansies.

Found some miniature snapdragons that were pretty and then…what? They have perennials? Oh wow…

I didn’t go hogwild, but did pick up:

• dianthus “Bath’s Pink”
• coreopsis rosea
• coreopsis “Early Sunrise”

I first thought I’d put the dianthus and “early sunrise” back into the flowerbed along the fence; I’d lost the coreopsis after the second year and then this spring, while DH vigorously raked away layer upon layer of oak leaves, he also took out my dianthus “agatha”. I could have cried — it was one of the first to flower and I really like their carnation-y scent. Oh well.

Instead, I put “early sunrise” amongst the lady’s mantle, columbine, and penstemon. The dianthus is in front of that, near the sidewalk. The coreopsis rosea is down the way a bit, near the purple leafed heuchera and the peony bush (which is full of buds! Yay!)

Back to the annuals: I scattered the pansies and snapdragons along the front of the house near the daisies, purple coneflower, columbine, yarrow and salvia — pretty much to fill in while the recently-moved perennials get established.

While doing all that, I manged to stir up the ant colony that has taken up residence in the decaying unidentified stump near the russian sage…man, were they ever agitated. They just poured out of the stump like water out of a faucet! They aren’t carpenter ants — so I am still debating whether to get rid of them or just let them be. You probably should know that as a kid, I watched ants and their hills with such a fascination — so with these, I figure as long as they are not in the house, I’d be happy to leave them alone to do their thing.

All in all — a pretty nice weekend. Except no word on the puppy front…wah!

That’s my farmer boy

Last year we were just embarking on an extended journey through DH’s shoulder/knee surgery and resulting physical therapy.

So for all the growing season I was in charge of the vegetable garden: asparagus, zucchini, tomatoes & rhubarb. I did all the weeding and transplanting in the flower beds. And I push mowed nearly every week. Come fall I didn’t have it in me to do all the clean off — so I didn’t do a lot.

Saturday was the day for me to finally have at it, rake and all — but instead I went to R-town and furniture shopped with H — who now has a decent bed set and a steal of a cricket chair.

When I came home in the afternoon I didn’t really have it in me to have at it, rake and all, any more.

Pulling into the garage, there sat DH — still in his work clothes (he worked Saturday morning) — right outside the door.

Schwetin’ big time.

He had done ALL the raking, several bags full — leaving me to cut down the remains of the goldenrod “Fireworks” and the prairie grass clumps today and spread the Preen around.

What a guy! Thanks, hon!!!

Flowers waking up so far: lamium, hollyhocks, coral bells, ground cover sedums, autumn joy and fire sedums, Walker’s Low nepeta — and that dratted star of bethlehem! Anyone out there with tips on eradicating that dreadful menace? It is doing its best to take over…gah!!!

This, That, and The Other Thing

THIS:

After several weeks of listening to Christmas music, yesterday I finally got my holidays in the correct order and started thinking about Thanksgiving…

EGADS ITS NEXT WEEK DID YOU KNOW THAT?!

Man, I have been”la-la-land”ing it something awful lately. I thought something’s not right here when I had DH sign me up to bring Cracker Barrel green beans to the church Thanksgiving dinner yesterday.

What? No cranberry fluff? The stuff that everyone liked last year? As it ended up, all of us made due with ONE can of jellied cranberries…

But never mind that — this Saturday I have to get all the fixin’s bought, including the fluff stuff stuff, for this menu:

1. Turkey — no more than 16 lb or it won’t fit in the roaster. The size usually means a Butterball.
2. Green bean casserole for DH.
3. Mashed potatoes…I’d like to make the real thing this year, but…
4. Stuffing. (Sylvia’s sounds divine…but the girls won’t eat anything but Stove Top.)
5. Gravy. (Canned. Fat-free.)
6. Candied yams. (See “I Yam What I Yam” for the secret recipe…)
7. CRANBERRY FLUFF
8. Mom’s bringing an apple pie.
9. I’ll probably make pumpkin.
10. Rolls

THAT:

Today I took a look at all the projects I am behind on at work and discovered there is no way for me to catch up by Thanksgiving. This is not a good thing.

THE OTHER THING:

Crochet and Knit Club is going well. It was decided that we would all make six inch squares to ultimately be used in an afghan for someone at the local domestic violence center for women. I have exactly no leftover bits of yarn, so guess I’ll figure out a few more things to make, get the yarn, and use some of it for the afghan. The squares idea will be fun; there are a lot of stitches I’d like to try out.

It’s a secret

NP: JoC’s Christmas Songs…still.

Lately the fishbowl has been…bothersome.

Don’t get me wrong — I get along with ‘most everybody at work and at church and even have some internet buddies — but I’ve been wanting another venue where I could chill out and have none of the other first two groups involved.*

However when the opportunity for such a venue was made known to me by H, I was only mildly interested.

The story was in the local paper. The library was hosting The Knit and Crochet Club. It was starting up again during the fall and winter.

Wowzers, huh?!

Sunday

H: Mom, you need to go to that.

Mumsflowers:…I’ll think about it.

Monday the phone rings.

H: So are you going tonight?

Mumsflowers: I dunno.

H: Oh come on! It’s only from 6:30-7:30…

Mumsflowers: I don’t know where any of my hooks are I don’t know if I have any yarn I can’t find anything around here.

H: Your crochet hooks are in that basket I gave you.

Mumflowers: Humph.

H: You’d better go…

Mumsflowers: I haven’t even finished supper…

H: You have an hour.

Mumsflowers: Humph.

H: You’d better go…I’m going to call and ask how it went…

Mumsflowers: I’ll think about it. My food is getting cold.

H: You’ll have to tell me how it went.

Mumsflowers: Yeah yeah yeah…

So after I tore the house apart in search of yarn, thread, hooks and patterns, it dawned on me:

If I kept all this stuff in ONE PLACE INSTEAD OF THREE it would be more handy! Sigh…

Then off I went with a pineapple doily pattern, four hooks and some crochet cotton. Now if my eyes would just cooperate.

(NP: Moody Blues’ December)

The club meets in the art gallery — I hadn’t been up there in years and had forgotten the lovely paintings and sculptures in the collection. There must have been twenty of us — mostly crocheters — from beginners learning to chain all the way to those who have taught classes.

I was amazed how everyone stayed on task — crocheters crocheted and knitters knitted — and everyone helped everybody else. So guess I’ll go back — but it will have to be with yarn and a basic pattern for maybe a lap robe — something I could do without much brain power. I find I can’t talk or help and crochet at the same time when making a doily. It has to have all my attention or I don’t get anywhere with it.

*Sylvia, Jackie — I’d quilt/crochet with you guys anytime!