Of Aliens And Citizens

I have a new job! And a fun one, too. The technical college in the area, together with a local literacy organization and a nonprofit agency of the diocese, has received a federal grant to assist permanent residents in becoming US citizens. They need a coordinator to market the program, keep track of the applicant progress data, and run quarterly reports for the government. Who better for the job than your friendly resident alien? Thankfully, the college thought so too.

And so I make the trek south three days a week. It’s a great program and I really enjoy being part of it. Permanent residents who are interested in becoming citizens are offered assistance with filing the naturalization application, English language and US civics classes, and the possibility to practice citizenship interviews, all free of charge. As the coordinator who navigates between the three partners and the applicants, I hope to meet many interesting people on this road to citizenship.

Spring Thoughts

My living room window is covered in peck marks, made by a robin that wanted to come in last Friday. All day long she flew up in the air and knocked on my window. There is a Dutch children’s song about just that: “Little robin flies into the window, peck, peck, peck. Let me in, let me in.” It was highly amusing. When I wondered on Facebook if I should let her in, someone suggested she wanted to let me out.

It’s so unusual to walk outside and be enveloped in warm air. We went from freezing temperatures to high seventies and eighties practically overnight. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but the transition is rather sudden. But oh, how glorious to go out barefoot. Alas, tomorrow the temperature drops again.

Every day on my way to work I notice the trees are a little greener than the day before. There is a subtle hint of green on the branches right now, which I am sure will be more pronounced tomorrow. Our lilac literally burst into leaves yesterday. It is full of buds, ready to become gorgeous and fragrant purple flowers.

The mini crocuses I planted last fall have come up and they look so lovely. There are flowering daffodils by the side of the house that I did not plant. They just showed up. The rhubarb is pushing its way out, and the catnip is going strong. Ryan and Lola have cleaned up the Lily-of-the-Valley beds.

It is finally spring.

The Rookie

She was reluctant at first when I asked her if she wanted to sign up for summer baseball here in town. But then one day she hit the ball just right during t-ball in gym class. That felt so good, she wanted more. There are not enough kids to form a t-ball team but she was welcome to join the coach pitch team. And so she did.

She is the youngest by far, throws like a girl, and is easily distracted (“What’s that on my shoe?”) but she’s doing it. She did not let that baseball that hit her square in the forehead on day one deter her either. Good girl!

The Green House

Yesterday was the very first proper spring day up north, and our first order of business, after finally enjoying some coffee outside, was fixing the roof of the green house. Being veterans at this, we completed the task in no time, and without any arguments. Once the green house was cleaned, all 400 plants were moved from my dining room into their new home. Just a few more weeks, and we can plant them outside.

I promised you pictures, didn't I? I found them but then I got distracted by life. So here they are. Most are from last year when the green house was built. Some are from yesterday, to show off our ginormous tomato plants. Seriously, they are flowering already.

Our starting point:



To escape from eight little girls running around the house, it was the day of Lola’s birthday party, Ryan spent the day replacing the windows in the potting shed by bigger ones.





Next up, the roof:







So far, that was easy. And now for the fun part, putting up the acrylic plates. Gliding them into place was a major pain but we got it done and we’re still married.

And for the finishing touch, lobelia.

A few shots from inside:





That was last year. This was yesterday. The black-eyed Susans, started from seed, on their way to the green house.





Everything is back in place. And the dining room looks almost normal again.

Four Hundred And Counting

The absence of gardening weather has not stopped us from planting seeds. We like to get a head start where our veggies are concerned, to maximize our summer yield. And now that we have a place to put everything, we are really going for it. We are also throwing some flowers in the mix.

It began last month. We sowed forget-me-nots, lobelia, alyssium, black-eyed-susans, cardinal climbers, and two different varieties of cherry tomatoes. Almost every single seed germinated. Yesterday the seedlings were transplanted to bigger pots to accommodate their growth. In the empty seed starter pots we planted large tomatoes, leek, corn, cucumber, okra, echinacea, marigolds, and more lobelia.

If they too germinate well, and why wouldn't they, we will have nearly 400 plants living in our dining room. The plan is for them to go to the greenhouse, but obviously it's still too cold for that. Not to mention part of the greenhouse roof blew off this winter and that needs to be fixed first.

Which reminds me, I have never shown you any pictures of our greenhouse, have I? Last year we turned the dilapidated potting shed into a cute little greenhouse by replacing the old windows with floor to ceiling ones, and installing clear acrylic sheets on the sunny half of the roof. I'll dig up those pictures and post them tomorrow.

First Sign Of Spring

Rumor has it it's spring. I have yet to see any proof. It's very cold outside, there is about a foot of snow and ice on the ground, and it only just stopped snowing. I planted bulbs last fall, but they have a long way to go. And not a single robin has been spotted in these parts, just a few geese earlier this week.

There is hope, though. I looked out the window a few moments ago, and noticed a little head sticking up from the snow. The chipmunks are up! He, or she, had dug a tunnel through the remains of the ice castle that Ryan and Lola built, and sat there, quietly looking around. He seemed somewhat confused by what he saw, and after a few minutes went back into his underground home.

I'll toss out some homegrown sunflower seeds for them. The birds are not too keen on them and it will be awhile before the grass is back.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

I just shipped Lola off to school, two hours later than normal. Our school district started with a two hour delay because of the cold. Schools were closed all day yesterday in the UP and I am sure they are today as well. I had never heard of Cold Days before, only Snow Days.

It was 14 below this morning when Ryan left, with a wind chill of 25 below. For the folks back home who are complaining about the cold, or lack thereof - another Elfstedentocht just bit the dust, that's -26 and -32 Celsius. Brrr!

Today's high will be a balmy 7 degrees (-14 C). It sure is pretty though, the bright blue sky and the sun reflecting on the snow. If only I could stay inside all day.

Sick Bay

My baby is sick. My poor little girl is running a fever, throwing up, and starting to develop a nasty cough. She was up quite a bit last night, and has slept for most of the day today. To add to her misery, being sick today means she is missing the root beer float party at school. I promised to make her a root beer float at home but that only partially made up for things.

I feel for Lola, really I do. Of course I do, I am her mother. But the thing is, I am supposed to be the patient today. Yesterday I had oral surgery. There is an infection raging in my jawbone and it's threatening my teeth. Due to the loss of bone, they are at risk of falling out. To end the infection, the bone was scraped clean and bone grafting material was inserted. My gums were then sewn back together and some kind of dressing was applied.

My head now hurts very much as you can imagine. The painkillers I was prescribed aren't up to the job. And though it's not the most pain I have ever felt, it is in my head and that seems to make matters worse. To add insult to injury, I am starting to look like a chipmunk on the left side of my face. But instead of nursing my aching head, I was up half the night nursing Lola and cleaning up vomit.

Sigh. Life is not fair.

New Year's Eve

My husband and daughter are in the kitchen prepping diner. We are eating spaghetti tonight. No black eyed peas for us on New Year's Eve. Lola is chattering away about anything and everything while the two of them are rolling meat balls. I sit in the living room trying to type with a cat on my lap.

After diner we're having a party. We will be dressing up, playing games, and blowing our party horns, picked up at the Dollar store for the occasion. We still need to make party hats. Lola is very excited about the party and plans to stay up until midnight, although she doesn't really expect to make it that long.

This will be our second New Year's Eve in this town. If I remember correctly, it will be a nice and quiet affair for most of the night. Perhaps one or two firecrackers will be set off. I am used to so much more noise. Where I come from, this night is the big fireworks night.

When I was complaining earlier about the lack of noise on New Year's Eve, Lola sighed: "Oh mother, why can't you just enjoy your new life?" (I don't know where she gets this stuff, I very seldom complain for the record.) I tried to find some live streaming of the Dutch fireworks but no such luck. I'll just have to take her home some day for the real thing.

Well, I am off to get dressed for the party. Happy New Year, everyone! May 2013 be a peaceful and blessed year for us all.

One Wish Granted

As I type this, my mother’s plane is taking off. In just a few short hours she’ll be here. I can hardly wait. I’ve got to finish up one work project, scrub a few toilets, and throw a vacuum cleaner around the house. And then I can enjoy the rest of the week off.

My mom ordered snow. Not so much that it hinders traffic. Just enough to makes things pretty. Here you go, mom! Just for you.

Opening Day 2012

Aside from fleas, flies, ticks, mosquitoes, and the occasional wasp, I have never deliberately killed an animal. Yet this morning at sunrise I sat in the woods, for the second year in a row, waiting to shoot a buck. I am fairly certain this time, given the chance, I will pull that trigger. Last year I wasn't too sure if I would be able to do it, and since I never saw a buck, the question remained unanswered.

I am a meat-eater, however, and Ryan's buck fed us for a year. And it was guaranteed free range, organically fed, and artificial hormone free meat, which is more than I can say for the average anonymous slab of meat one finds in a supermarket nowadays. One must work for it, though, if you call sitting and waiting work.

So far I have seen no signs of animal life save for nuthatches, chickadees, woodpeckers of the downy, hairy, and pileated variety, and one lone blue jay. And there is a mouse that lives behind my stand. I have heard him squeak but he hasn't shown himself yet. The deer are out there, though. I have seen proof. Perhaps tomorrow.

Nothing Yet

It was snowing last night when I drove home from work. A couple of miles north of our town the snowflakes were sizable ones even, and the road was white, forcing me to slow down. I was hoping to wake up to a winter wonderland this morning but sadly no. Nothing. We are still looking at dying grass.

I really wanted some snow because this Saturday is Opening Day. The first day of gun hunting deer season. Ryan is getting more and more excited and I too am getting in the mood. Up in the UP where we work, the season is almost twice as long as in Wisconsin. "The Holy Season," they call it up there. I don't expect to see many people at work next week.

We spent last weekend tromping in the woods, getting our stands ready. I have been evicted from my spot by my husband but I was allowed to keep my stand, lovingly referred to as "the lemonade stand." It really is. I suppose if hunting doesn't work out for me, I could sell refreshments. I very much missed a beverage cart last year.

Ryan has taken back his spot. He is hoping for another big buck of course. So am I. Last year's deer fed us for a year. We are just about out of venison. Time to fill that empty spot in the freezer.

Peer Pressure

It used to be chain letters, the old fashioned, handwritten kind. I didn’t get that many because it was a lot of work, which was why I always felt pressured to continue the chain. Then it morphed into chain emails. Much easier to distribute and therefore more plentiful and more annoying. And the pressure became almost unbearable. “Send this to five of your closest friends in the next five minutes, or suffer horrible agony and death.” I decided to live a more daring life and I stopped sending the chain mails. Thankfully I survived.

Then came social media. And a new kind of pressure surfaced. “Like this and show your support for [fill in the blanks] or scroll down if you don’t care.” Or, my personal favorite: “Like this and go to Heaven, or scroll on and go to Hell.” The image to accompany these messages often shows a child suffering from a debilitating disease, a family tearfully mourning a lost loved one, or something equally horrific. Something most people do care about, even if they don’t know the person in question.

I never “Like” a post of that kind. Which means I must be a self centered, uncaring, unfeeling b*tch going straight to hell. WTF? Who posts such nonsense? And why do posts like that get hundreds of thousands of “Likes?” What is wrong with people? Don’t give in to this kind of peer pressure, kids. Because once you do, you have to “Like” the next thing, and the next, and so on and so forth. It’s all downhill from there.

Also, evidently God keeps track of our Facebook activities. If ever you needed an incentive to clean up your profiles, this is it!

Bad Mother

Lola’s room is a small one and there really isn’t enough room for everything we put in there. She is usually very good about keeping her room tidy but once friends come over to play and everything gets pulled out from the shelves, it’s hard to get it all under control again. It is simply too much for her and things steadily get worse.

Several attempts have been made to organize her room. Once she and I started that task together and I asked her to go through the great big basket with stuffed animals and get rid of the ones she doesn’t play with. Naturally, every single stuffed toy suddenly became a favorite. Watching Lola go through her collection deciding which one to do away with was like watching “Sophie’s Choice.” Gut wrenching.

About two weeks ago, Ryan and Lola went on their customary father - daughter date and I seized the opportunity to take charge of her room. Hardening my heart, I was resolved to recycle a few more toys than the childhood toys of her parents which were the only ones she had been willing to give up. Ruthlessly I went through her basket and the shelves of her room. Three garbage bags later I resurfaced.

We put up more shelves, organized everything in shiny new purple baskets, and rearranged the furniture. You can actually see the floor of her room again. I also went through all of her drawers and purged her summer clothes and the outfits she had outgrown. Walking into her room now is like a breath of fresh air. Lola loves it and has not once asked for any of the toys I got rid of.

Until last night.

Ryan has gone bow hunting with his dad and as always when he is gone, the girls have a Girls Night. This means that Lola moves into my bedroom and we watch a movie together before we go to sleep. Since I have a bigger bed, there is more room for her stuffed friends, and she usually brings a few more than the two or three that share her bed.

“Mom,” I heard her say when she was getting ready for bed. “Have you seen that white bear that I have?”

I knew exactly which bear she meant. It had not made the cut. Not wanting to confess to that right away, I pretended not to know which bear she was talking about. She showed me a three inch version of the bear I had thrown away and told me she was looking for its mother.

Oh no. I had orphaned a baby bear.

I fessed up to possibly, maybe giving its mother away (not true, I threw it away) and suggested Lola could be the little bear’s mom from now on. Big tears rolled from Lola’s eyes as she hiccupped that the little bear could not sleep without its mother. My daughter is very good when it comes to drama. I felt horrible.

So, anyone have a white bear to spare? I know a good home for it.

Patching It Up

We traveled down state on Saturday to celebrate Halloween and my birthday with Ryan’s brother and his family. Their neighborhood blocks off a few streets every year to ensure safe nighttime trick or treating for kids. Roaming the streets in the dark does All Hallows Eve more justice than walking around in broad daylight, don’t you think?

On the way back up, we stopped at the pumpkin patch in Allenton where we petted and admired alpaca’s, goats, emus, and turkeys, and picked out a nice big pumpkin to carve.