Countryside Snapshots: Sun

I cannot remember the last time I drove past a field of sunflowers but I know it was in France. I have never seen them growing in such abundance anywhere else. Imagine my surprise when I was driving down a Wisconsin country road and happened upon this sea of big yellow sunflowers amidst the fields of corn.

Fall has started to set in up here. The lush green of the foliage is gone, the ferns alongside the road have turned yellow, and I see a little fiery red peeping through here and there. But standing in front of this bright sunny patch made me briefly forget summer is about to bid us farewell for another year.

Too Close For Comfort

A Cow Girl she is not (yet)

The Real Thing

Miss Lola is going to start Jr. Kindergarten next week. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday she can be found at school. Not a school-like daycare, but the Real Thing. She is so excited.

It became very real when we visited the school to register her, two weeks ago. We were given a little tour, took a peek into her classroom, the gym, the cafeteria, the playground, and the Principal's office.

Last week we went back-to-school shopping together to make it even more official. Markers, crayons, glue sticks, and two pairs of new shoes; everything has been checked off the list. We had a wonderful time together.

The only thing we are still going back and forth on is the size of her backpack. I think her current small one can still do for a year. Lola is trying to convince me she needs a big backpack now that she is a big girl. Not to mention that all the other kids at school have a big backpack, too. Or so she claims. Given the importance of the occasion, I will most likely cave before next Wednesday.

I am taking the day off to take her to school on her first day. After that, she will take the bus. Finally she gets to ride the big yellow school bus she always points out to me when we are on the road. In Lola's eyes, that just might be best thing about going to school.

Another milestone. My daughter truly is a big girl now. I just know my emotions are going to get the better of me next week when she disappears into that classroom. And possibly (probably) again when I take her picture as she steps onto the bus for the first time. I apologize in advance, Lola.

I Will Survive

Since moving house, my commute is back up to fifty minutes. In the summer that is. I expect it to be quite a bit longer in the winter. The road I take now is not a well traveled, well plowed, well salted highway like the one I took last year. No, these days I drive down an itty bitty country road, with lots of lovely curves. The first part is not too bad, but as I get closer to the casino the road gets rougher. About twenty minutes out, I have to make a choice: take F, which has co-workers shoot me looks of pity, or C, which, in the winter, is certain death.

But even in good weather it’s a tricky drive. I practice my dodging skills daily with the help of care free bear, oblivious deer, and suicidal poultry. There is the occasional raccoon family to avoid, or the odd sandhill crane. And if it’s not an animal testing my reflexes, it’s the Fedex truck tearing around the corner like a bat out of hell. The drive is even more fun in the dark, as you can imagine.

I am however, determined to survive the months ahead. I have replaced the tires on my car with all weather, all terrain ones and had them slashed for extra traction. My subscription to OnStar is renewed and I have started to stock the car with emergency supplies. I should be fine.

Fingers crossed.

And maybe send up a prayer or two.

Pitiful

Meet our tomato plants: Mr. Stripey on the right and Black Krim on the left. Heirloom tomatoes they are, and high maintenance I found out.

They were bought at Fleet Farm earlier in the summer. The plan was for them to find a nice home in our soon-to-be vegetable garden. In the meantime I planted them in freshly painted pots with topnotch potting soil.

However, the vegetable garden plan has been rescheduled for 2012 and the tomato plants stayed in their pots. I don't think they like their pots much, especially Mr. Stripey. A whopping two pieces of fruit he has given us. At $2.99 a plant, that is $1.50 a tomato. Who said growing your own food was economical?

Countryside Snapshots: Harvest

There is a small apple tree on the border of our backyard and our neighbor's. We think it's ours, but we're not sure. It is filled with apples and they are almost ready to be picked. The apple tree at Lola's new daycare is already there. Yesterday I sent Lola off with an empty basket and when I picked her up, it was filled with freshly picked apples.

We set out to make apple sauce as soon as we came home. Lola was very excited about the process. She made certain that Ryan knew this wasn't just any apple sauce, it was home made. I have now added a food mill to my appliance wish list and I can see canning in my future. Very clearly.

Countryside Snapshots: Mail

Approved by the Postmaster General

Trickster

Lola was cutting up a storm yesterday afternoon. When I asked her what she was doing, she told me she was cutting up fake food for Sandman. She was going to set out a bowl filled with her paper snippets and wait for him to go: "Hey! What is this?"

I am pretty sure that is exactly what he was saying when I heard him meow at four o'clock in the morning.

Countryside Snapshots: Grass

Just beyond our backyard

New Do

We spent the past week in Elkhart Lake, enjoying some free time, good company, and many hours in the pool. Lola especially loved the pool. She would jump in around ten in the morning and would not come out for anything until the late afternoon, save a potty break or two.

As a result of all that bobbing in chlorine, her hair turned into one big dreadlock. Not even the half gallon of conditioner and detangling spray I used could untangle that mess. I was forced to resort to scissors.

I love it! She really rocks the bob and looks so big all of a sudden. Lola likes it too, but she did check with me several times if her hair will grow back. And if I do say so myself, I didn't do too badly at my first cutting job.

Mom also has a new do, by the way. I am now a redhead. Pictures to follow at a later date. Maybe.

Skinny Dipping

After working hard in the new house the weekend before we moved, we decided to take off early on Sunday afternoon and take the pontoon boat out on the lake. I didn't actually get to go, but Ryan and Lola had a great time. They made it back just in time to beat the severe thunderstorm that had been brewing for hours. In the midst of the storm Ryan realized he had left his wallet on the boat and ran back to get it. Within five minutes he was back, dripping wet and wide eyed. "The boat is gone!" he panted.

I thought (hoped) he was kidding, but no, he wasn't. The line that tied the boat to the dock had broken, and the storm had blown it into the bay. It was sitting right next door in fact. The two of us went out into the rain and anchored her down for the night. We thought we would just push her free the next day, then take her out for a spin around the lake and go swimming in the rain. Simple enough.

Things are never that simple though. Unfortunately the boat was stuck in the mud. Really stuck. In order to do any sort of pushing, we had to get into the muck with her. Before I knew it, we were chest deep in stinky muck, trying to find some footing. There wasn't any, just roots, weeds, sticks, and other unidentified objects that kind of freaked us out. For an hour we pushed the boat through the muck, slowly inching forward. Lola was cheering us on from atop the boat. My arms hurt, I could barely hang on, and did I mention it smelled really bad?

When we finally cleared the weeds and were able to lower the engine into the water, Ryan climbed back into the boat to start her up. I hung onto the back, dragging behind her until I was unceremoniously hoisted into the boat by my husband. When we got to deeper waters, Ryan and I jumped in to wash off the mud. It was everywhere. In my pants, my shirt, my underwear. What's a girl to do but go skinny dipping? We had the lake all to ourselves and enjoyed swimming naked until lightning chased us off the water.

The Hardest Goodbye

My cousin M. has been on my mind a lot this week. It is his dad, and my uncle, who is dying of pancreatic cancer. My cousin and his family live in Switzerland and have been visiting for the month of July. I saw them earlier this week when Lola and I traveled south for a few days. When M. and I said goodbye, he told me the next time we would see each other the occasion would probably not be a happy one.

M. and his family are leaving today. He has to tell his father goodbye and chances are, he will never see him again. I cannot begin to imagine his sadness. Just thinking about it breaks my heart. Not being there when you want to most is without a doubt one of the hardest things about living thousands of miles away from your family.

It is in my future too.

Quickly, While I Can

We moved last weekend. Our house is in total chaos with various painting projects taking place in the dining room, living room, and kitchen. Random pieces of furniture are scattered about while the rest of our stuff is packed into the garage.

I cooked our first proper meal yesterday, not pizza or something heated up in the microwave, with the one wooden spoon I was able to find. We are still eating off paper plates, using plastic silverware and drinking out of disposable cups.

Lola and I are enjoying having some time off together. I paint; she plays with her stuffed animals, taking them for rides around the block. Every now and again we take a break to go grocery shopping.

For the time being, we are off line. No phone, no internet, no television. To keep you updated on our progress, I must visit the local bar. Our town is so small, we can walk everywhere. Also, there is no mail delivery here. We are now the proud owners of PO Box 281.

The house came with kitchen appliances but no washer and dryer. More so than buying this house, the purchase of our first proper washer and dryer makes us feel very grown up. After Ryan and I installed them, we grabbed a drink and hung out in the basement, admiring our new appliances. They make really cool noises when you turn them on and off.

I have one more coat of paint to go on the twenty seven kitchen cabinet doors. If I ever talk about painting kitchen cabinets again, someone please stop me. I don’t care how much money I am saving.

Getting Started

Before we move into our new house next weekend, we thought we would take advantage of its empty state and do a little remodeling. Painting mostly. We thought about refinishing the floors and fixing up the attic in addition to painting but the contractor we talked to flaked on us. That's fine really. There is still more than enough to do.

The 'before' shots

Ryan has graciously allowed me to paint the kitchen cabinets. He is a bit of a wood snob, and doesn't believe in adding artificial color to wood. But in this case, I can do what I want. While I have been taking down thirty three cabinet doors and eleven drawers, taking off sixty six pieces of hardware, and cleaning everything, he has ripped out the charming drop ceiling and fluorescent light fixtures. We are taking out the carpet, too.

I am looking forward to showing you the 'after' pictures.

Lazy Days Of Summer

Happy Independence Day!