A Week Worth of Blogging: Scenes from the Trellises, Henry's Broadway Debut, and Parental Sappy Tears.

I cannot believe that I have not gotten this done before now...what a dork I am.

I have been being held hostage by Softball, and much like water boarding, Softball season in elementary school with two girls on different teams and different schedules...is not much fun!

So here is my week’s worth of Blogging done in one long blog...I will section it of course so that those Henry fans can skip right to his Broadway debut, and those garden followers can admire my radishes with out getting mired down in my sloppy weepy video of my eldest’s first singing solo.

So read what you will, but I may test you later...

Scenes from the Trellises:

Firstly, I always do my scenes from the trellises starting in about June, but since we seem to have moved Maine about 3 hours south we have been able to plant early this year, with only one minor set back when we thought that there might be a frost. Like the true manicured lawn type that I am, I gathered buckets, blankets and tarps and covered my entire garden…just in case.

All though my beautiful landscaping of patchwork blankets and old buckets was beautiful, my neighbors I believe, were pretty happy when there was no frost and I took my lovely problem solving decorating down.

It has been raining for 3 days straight so things now are three times bigger than these pics, but Thought I would share anyway.

Something is eating my beans however, as soon as the first true leaves emerge, something tops them right off….any ideas what this little thing that I WILL seek out and DESTROY could be?

I have had my first little harvest of radishes. My daughter and I proceeded to eat the entire bowl full instead of saving them for a salad. But more will come later.

Planted in the garden to date: White Cucumbers, pickling and slicing cukes, Watermelon, pole beans, bush beans, wax beans, lima beans, peas, potatoes (red and Yukon Gold), sweet potatoes, radishes, zukes, and squash, acorn squash, sugar pumpkins, and giant pumpkins, Red Cabbage, Green Cabbage, Pointed Cabbage, peppers (red, yellow, green), jalapenos, habanera, tomatillos, tomatoes (cherry, Roma, Mortgage Lifters, yellow), Jenny Lind Cantaloupe, strawberries, Onions (shallots, white, red, yellow and spring), Swiss Chard, Spinach, Turnips, Beets, Carrots, lettuce (red leaf, Boston, Romaine), And all my Herbs! We have a good start to the season; let’s hope some of it actually grows big enough to eat!

Henry’s Debut:

So I admit it, I am a Broadway Musical junkie. It comes from having been a singer for a long time…and from growing up near the Prescott Park in Portsmouth, where every year you can attend musicals for free. As long as I can remember I loved them.

My daughter Marshall does to. So we were listening to Pandora (which is a music lovers paradise, you can get it for free on your computer) We put it on the Broadway station…

What happened next is...well...my husband is having nightmares about it…(He is NOT a musical fan) Mind you, this went on for a good 10 minutes, through the Guys and Dolls song and on to "I'm Gonna Wash that Man Right out of my Hair"...

“Ladies and Gentlemen, singing a selection from Guys and Dolls, I introduce the flailing, singing Henry…”

I don’t think that any scouts will be calling any time soon, but hey, it was entertaining.

Proud Mom:

And lastly, my daughter tried out for, and was given, her very first singing solo in her fifth grade concert. I cut it short so that only her solo was on the video partially to cut out Henry sneezing and yelling "Scuse me." And, you will have to excuse the mild shaking of the camera.

Apparently as I age, I am turning into a sappy pile of mess. I was desperately trying to hold the camera still as I sniffled and stifled the tears…I am pretty sure the woman on the other side of me thought I was having a seizure as I jerked and choked. But since she didn’t call 911, she must have figured out that I was just uber proud.

He's Gotten to the Public

Other than my random ranting about Henry, I figured the few masochistic souls that read this blog were the only ones that were exposed to my brand of Henry, but he has gotten out to the public.

A woman in town had a party on Friday night for moms. The invitation was extended to everyone she knew, and they were to invite whom ever they wanted. This is a very brave soul. We had a wonderful time, and it was a great way to connect women that otherwise never would have been. But it was also a time for me to see how, much like the swine flu, the stories of my boy are filtering through the community.

There were a few people who recognized me or my name, but couldn’t place me. I said “Oh, well I am on the school board, and those meetings are televised...” No that wasn’t it…
“Well, I teach an agriculture class to little ones for Parks and Rec…” No that wasn’t it…

Then the moment of clarity.

“OOOHHHHH you’re HENRY’S mom.”

You know, those are the moments where you aren’t sure that you should readily admit something like that. It’s a real quandary. It could be “He is a cutie pie” because Henry has a large source of charm when he chooses to use it, but it could also be:

“He is the one that broke into my car and stole all my spare change out of the console before peeing on my tire.”

One just never knows!

But, apparently another mom was telling a story about Henry and his “bros” at school talking about their dreams…Most were pretty normal…until they got to telling me about Henry’s. (Of course after toddler translation we cannot be sure how it all really played out.)

Apparently the state of the cleanliness of my house was revealed, when they learned he had a Skeleton from his closet in his room eating dust crackers under his bed.

Other than not knowing what exactly dust crackers are, I was at least relieved that it wasn’t something more serious...

Knock on wood.

Henry's Grace

So on the rare occasion that we all eat at the same time, which these days of softball and school board are nearly extinct, we try to give thanks.

It is one of our attempts to have the kids recognize that not getting invited to a birthday party or not having a Nintendo DS does NOT qualify as being needy. We let the kids do it mostly, say things that they are thankful for, and always say a little thing about take care of the poor, sick, and hungry.

Henry is really into saying grace. Only, he doesn't quite get it yet...

The other day he wanted to say "thanks" at lunch. So I let him...

He bowed his head and said "Thanks for bunnies" cutting his eyes to me to make sure that I was listening, then he dug into his sandwich...

(for those of you who may not have read previous entries...the boy is obsessed with getting bunnies, and is slowly trying to wear his father and I down until we can no longer stand the thought of having to hear another word about them and just give in to his evil ways.)

Last night he said his thanks, and then proceeded to say "Take care of the poor, the sick and the Henry's" (this was not without his little giggle afterward)

So I guess my father and the other 1000 Henry's out there can rest easy...at least for now.

Bunnies

So if you have read my blog for any length of time you may have realized that Henry is all about making proclamations... I get that Moses was picked, but I am pretty sure that there was a mistake made there.

So we headed over to Harris Farm where Henry likes to get his farmer on. (We also get our milk and other goodies there when we can.)

They know when we come, and they know that Henry is into seeing the cows; they are so wonderful to him, that I am pretty sure he thinks he owns the farm. (I don’t think that he needs that kind of encouragement, he already assumes that he owns the world...now he is thinking everything in it too.)

They have been doing school tours and they currently have some goats and Bunnies. They told us to go up and pet the bunnies….

Henry now wants bunnies.

He “plays” bunny, talks about bunnies, looks at pictures of bunnies, and even came up with names for his future bunny patch. The other day in an act of discouragement, I said “Cats don’t like bunnies, so we can’t get bunnies because we have the two cats.”

The boy loves our cats, so I thought that the subject was moot.

Nope, at breakfast the next day he said:

“Mom, I have decided we need to get rid of the cats so that I can have my bunnies.”

Well, I am sure that our fat cats aren’t too happy with that statement…

The names? Sugarin’ and Doobie…I can at least give him credit for persistency and originality…but since it isn’t the Miss America Pageant, I think he may be out of luck!

The Marshall Genes...are Hospital Bound

With our crazy schedule there is never a dull moment anymore, between, softball, meetings, work, church, and, well…Henry, we are totally booked! So we have altered our life to shift mode.


In order to get anything done we have to work in shifts...one person takes the taxi driver for the girls shift for a little bit, the other, what ever task is at hand.

This is what leads me to my lovely story. We had some trees down from the storms and from adding the garage, so we needed to have a bonfire to get rid of the brush pile that was bigger than the house itself…as attractive as it was in our front yard, we felt the need to rid ourselves of out local tick and black fly habitat.



I was left to tend the fire.



Because my husband is coaching the softball team for one of my girls he had to go get his picture taken with them. He left saying: "Don't worry about working on this, just keep it going."



He clearly doesn't know my family genes- That sounded like a challenge.



My Marshall genes create this sort of superhero complex where we feel the need to be big tough people…me in particular, who deems it necessary to prove my SheRa** qualities to a fault.

All was well until in an amazing act of grace and dexterity, I pulled up on a large limb, only to have it break quickly, knocking me in the head and then to the ground twisting my knee, jamming my finger, and splitting my ear open.


I KNOW, amazing isn’t it?

I quickly surveyed to make sure that no one could have possibly seen my incredible manual labor prowess. Seeing that no one could have seen, I then noticed the blood dripping down the side of my face.

See, my husband, is aware of my SheRa tendencies, but he forgot to account for my Marshall Grace Gene. The one that sent my dad to the ER on more than one occasion. (Most notably for his thumb that he nearly severed off, when he heard a “rattling” under the van and felt the need to check it out on the side of the road...on our way out of town to camp across the country for 3 weeks.) It is still one of the great mysteries of the universe that the man still has all of his digits in tact.

Granted there are no big trips planned here, just a brush pile, but I sat there and giggled as I threw more fodder on the fire while limping and holding and ice pack on my ear…

Here’s to you Marshall Genes…may my husband know better than to ever leave me alone with a weed whacker.






**For those of you who may be unfamiliar with SheRa-Princess of Power, here she is, and has been a family icon since I was a kid…as in: “You don’t have to be SheRa,” “You realize that you aren’t SheRa right?” “Stop pretending to be SheRa,” “You did WHAT?...Do you think you are SheRa or something?” Ahhh she has played a large role in my life…and medical history.

Feel Good Thursday

I couldn't figure out how to embed this, but it is worth a look at....someone who knows me well sent this to me knowing that I would love it...and have to share it.

Enjoy!

Playing for a change

Bus Stop Brawl

So, Henry summarized this whole situation, but let me give you some background.

We seem to have a neighbor that embraces his inner grunge. I have no issue with it for the most part. "Live and let live" I say. Who am I to question digging a moat in your side yard, or having a dead car garden in the back, or even the various half built storage buildings...it is his yard after all...However, this past spring one of the boys decided to build a race track in his side yard for his dirt bike. When I say dirt bike, I am not meaning the dirt bike of my ancient history which meant a trick bicycle with lots of dirt on it. I mean the motorized, loud muffler, kind of dirt bike.

Again though, it isn’t my yard so I am not going to complain…it isn’t my way. (well I might complain, but I am not going to make him change….)

This track, was a labor of love between a teenage boy and his front end loader. He worked on this endlessly until now; the path is right through our road right of way, and in danger of compromising the integrity of our road.

In our effort to maintain our property values, and our desire to not have our road collapse and run into the man made moat of death, we thought “let’s plant trees along our right of way”

Seems like a simple thing right? So we ran a line to show us where the right of way that we owned on our private road was, and intended on coming in about 3 or 4 feet so that our trees would never encroach on moat mans dirt bike path. We went over and explained to the mother (who was the only one home) that we didn’t care if they kept the track but we wanted to plant trees etc…

WELL, this turned into the father coming over to us at the bus stop and screaming profanities at one of the fathers, with threats of pigs coming to reside on the property line they share, 30 dogs coming to live with him, and countless other threats of red-neckery.

That afternoon the kids came home wide eyed and said “that man said the F-word” we discussed how this was not a real adult conversation and I did the entire “mom” explaining on better ways to handle it…

Henry looks over and says “Did he say the F#%$ word?”

Yes, he did. He did not say “f-word” he actually SAID THE WORD.

That’s my mister man…just stating the facts…

I am dreading Kindergarten.

My Snotty Cats

So at the Vet this winter, my cats tipped the scale at close to 20 pounds each. They are big boys, but, I guess I should have seen this coming when their bellies were swinging back and forth as they ran, or that all the fur on the thighs of one of the cats was getting worn off from friction.

In my defense however, as I told the vet, they lose their fat in the summer when they are out running around, and store fat in the winter to keep warm I suppose. I explained that this was normal, I mean, that is what I do too...the Vet didn't seem convinced.

I was sent off being told to put them on "indoor formula" which is essentially diet cat food. The other day I bought the stuff because my husband kept buying the regular food refusing to put our cats on "weight watchers."

My orange cat...well, was rather unimpressed. He ran to the trough at the sound of the food falling in to the metal pan...mouth watering ready to take a bite of his scrumptious fattening “salmon” crunchies, he took one bite…looked at me….another bite…looked at me…

Then proceeded to stick his paw in the bowl, push a few pieces around, then tip the bowl over and walk away.

Really? I am seriously getting attitude from my CAT? I am feeling a bit like Rodney Dangerfield…no respect I tell ya, no respect.

I guess the starvation diet will work too.