Is It Asking Too Much?

I haven't had much to say as of late (if you knew me, you would forget sending flowers to the hospital - you would go ahead and send the wreath to the funeral home) and it's unfortunate that now my something to say is somewhat whiny and negative. I live in a difficult place - geographically and sometimes mentally, the mental part being a whole 'nother story. When I bought this house, I wasn't aware that I was placing myself AND my children atop "Flag Hill" , which is known for being an easy place to score drugs. People don't hang out a shingle saying "The cook is in". It took at least 6 months to find out about the meth lab down the street. Not quite so long to figure out I had also moved right into the redneck ghetto. I am so NOT exaggerating. The first year here was uncomfortable and now just having passed the 3rd anniversary of dwelling in the same neighborhood as a person who has cut people with a machete over a drug deal gone bad, another who has attempted suicide by blowing his face off over being in trouble with the law, and of course, the freaks who are just plain old sociopaths,I have more or less adopted the philosophy that no news is good news. I have endured people trying to make my life miserable because of the Van Goats, people just trying to make my life miserable because I exist, apparently. Today was more or less the last straw. While I was hanging out laundry, Chico the dog was hanging out in the street as he is bad to do, and out of the blue I heard someone slamming on brakes and yelling out the car window about having had it with "that dog". I looked around the clothes I was hanging up, at which point the mouthy bitch asked me" IS THIS YOUR DOG?". I gave affirmation that he was and she informed me that he always chases her husband on his motorcycle and her husband is going to kill my dog if he hits him. She then screeched off as I informed her that her husband drives too damn fast. Not that it matters, right? I mean, who gives a shit if some jackhole on a motorcycle drives 50 mph through a neighborhood in view of the fact that there is a jack russell/chihuahua roaming around on the loose. Where the fuck are my priorities? For some reason, after all the things that had annoyed me in the previous 10 hours, let's say, this was the thing that almost pushed me over the edge. I am so over rude people who think they have the right to ruin someone else's day. I wanted to call the police and say that she told me her husband was going to kill my dog just to try and fuck up her day. I didn't have the energy to go to all the trouble that was going to entail. I don't think that I am the only person on the planet encountering this kind of irritation. What I do think is that we should all band together and figure out a way to deal with all the people who want to suck the life out of the rest of us - the ones just trying to mind our own business and live. I mean really - IS it asking too much?

We all need Fresh Air

I've posted about the Fresh Air Fund before, but now things are really heating up for the summer. If you donate before June 30th, a group of their generous sponsors will match whatever you donate, dollar for dollar. That is HUGE! Imagine all the kids who will get to have a vacation they thought was only a dream. Having read a few books on what life is like for children in the inner cities doesn't make me an expert on this subject, but it does make me understand that some kids aren't ever going to get out - period. This time is even more critical that most of us realize. I hope that this picture on my website will speak to you and lead you to investigate more. Thank you for reading.

Bring on the brass pole.......

Wow.....I'm a bad blogger.....nothin since May 20. What's up with that? As far as June goes, I've been busy getting my ass kicked every day this week by cheer camp. What is cheer camp, you might ask. Well, it's some kind of fascist summer camp for kids to teach them how to become screaming, ribbon wearing, strippers-in-training. Okay - I'm just joking - there really wasn't that much screaming. It was pretty cool actually, especially watching my gal learn the cheers and dances and making new friends. I was stressed because I wanted badly for her to make all-stars - for her - not me. I'm not one of those crack-head parents that grounds their kid for only hitting 2 home runs instead of 3. I don't care what she does as long as she feels good about herself - and if she turns out to be a bank robber , she better hit the big ones and share with me. Just joking, again. Seriously, I want her to do something - participate in some activity whatever it is, and have a passion for something special. Life takes on a whole new meaning when you have something(s) that keeps you looking forward - as long as it's not too far forward. I've had many passions in my life (oh hell no, I'm not even close to talking about men. )Anyway, it's not like I'm a friggin philosopher or anything - I'm just extraordinarily wise due to the inordinate amount of beer I've consumed in my lifetime, which has served to lessen the inhibiting properties of my brain cells, thereby enabling them to function freely and without reserve. (Somebody in Mensa - please try to fucking top that shit.)

I don't know if cheering is her gig or not, but I know she had a great time and she also learned that she can hang in there for four days jumping,yelling, cheering and wearing ribbon with the best of them.

It's Good to be Green

For the first time since I discovered my desire to be "green", I feel like I am following through - walking the walk as it were, instead of just talking the talk. And it doesn't just feel good to do the right thing, but it's fun too. I love my reel mower - it's a great workout, it's quiet, and I love the way it cuts the grass. It cuts like clippers instead of chewing the grass up and spitting it back out. The outdoor clothes dryer (okay- it's a clothesline) is the bomb! My sheets smell so good that it's hard to get up in the morning. Recycling, with two recycling centers conceniently in my area, has become second nature. The compost pile is starting to shape up, and hopefully with some more tine I'll actually be producing some of the black gold people keep talking about. One of my biggest green habits is using natural cleaners and I've doing that since Rachel was born because of my fear of having dangerous chemicals in the house. When I started using natural cleaners I found out my sinuses were less bitchy so that was more incentive to stick with it. I can actually thank Victoria Moran for turning me on to natural cleaning because right after Rachel was born I was a big, fat, emotional mess and I was looking for comfort and solace. Somehow I stumbled across her book, Shelter for the Spirit and I decided it could be the thing to lift my spirit and all I can say is that it must've been divine intervention because that book changed my life. In some small way, it was like leaving the dark behind for a small view of the enlightened life. It opened the door and of course,the rest was up to me. I've read several of her books since then and while I find Shelter for the Spirit to be the best by far, her books are excellent when you need motivation and a boost for your spirit.
There are so many ways to reduce your carbon footprint, and sadly some of those ways are not within my reach right now. I can't afford a hybrid automobile or "green" paint (someday, though!) and biking or walking to work and other places is not an option because we live too far out, although I am trying to get my hip back in shape so that I can walk to the store and walk Rachel to school. My garden is still quite small by most standards, but I dream of the day when I can grow all our food - well all the food that can actually be grown, anyway. This is a journey unfinished and I have many miles to go , but this is one of the most beautiful, scenic journeys on which I've ever embarked. And I'm luckier than most because since we've expanded the fenced- in area to a portion of the front yard, the Van Goats can keep me company while I garden. They are great with fertilizer.

My Heroes! Check out the Getty Museum - they're showin us how it's done!

May 9, 2008
Green Pastures
The Getty Museum has announced plans to clear the flammable brush on its Brentwood grounds the old-fashioned way—with a small flock of goats. According to the press release:
The goats are supervised by goatherd Hugh Bunten and his dog Steve, who live in a tent on the Getty grounds while the goats work. Hugh is there to keep the goats “focused,” says his wife Sarah, and also to protect against coyotes (which they see a lot) and mountain lions (which they’ve never seen, but you never know).
The eco-friendly fire-prevention initiative coincides with the museum’s exhibition “Oudry’s Painted Menagerie,” a survey of life-size animal portraits by the French painter Jean-Baptiste Oudry (1686. . .1755). While there are no images of goats or coyotes, the show does include one ten-foot-tall canvas of a lion.—Andrea K. Scott
Posted by Andrea K. Scott

The Pressure of a Post

ARRRGGGGHHHH! I haven't posted in over a week! OMG! My loyal readers are waiting with bated breath. My sponsors are gonna dump me! Wait a minute.........I don't have any sponsors! Ha ha ha! Sometimes I fuckin crack myself up. This blogging thing is great and because nobody reads this it's even better. I could just sit here and type "watermelon, watermelon, watermelon....." That takes me right back to high school when I was in chorus and hated it so I just stood there and sang "watermelon, watermelon, watermelon..." Nobody knew but my my cohort standing next to me and she was continually amused by the apathy on which I sailed through my high school years. She had study hall in my Algebra II class and she almost dropped her teeth (and they weren't dentures) when she looked down the row of desks and saw me snoozing through a test. My teacher sucked, I hated math, and I totally just couldn't get it so what was the point of stressing myself out. Seemed like it was as good a time for a nap as any. I secretly wanted to be brilliant at math, but I gave up somewhere around the 9th grade. Mysteriously, I got a B in geometry (no sexual favors were involved - the teacher was a woman anyway.) but other than that aberration, my career in math was spectacularly sucky. I slaved over a pencil and calculator in college for a B in elementary not-quite-algebra class. (Again - no sex acts were necessary.) It's totally amazing how I have completely left my subject behind for something completely unrelated. And it doesn't matter!!! No one's reading this shit anyway. My ability to segue in to an unrelated topic reminds me of this girl, Tammy, who used to do the horoscope on FM98.1 in the mornings. She would start out doing the horoscope and then she completely leave the horoscope behind to talk about herself - she was frickin hilarious! There's nothing like that on the air anymore. Another indication that radio just isn't what it used to be. Now there's just stupid shit where people try to annihilate each other on air. Long gone are the days of Tammy and Shakespeare Man. Shakespeare Man - totally brill. He could take any song and turn it into Shakespeare speak.Imagine recitations of "Here Comes the Hot Stepper" and "When I Come Around". I loved driving to work in the morning then.
Okay - now let's take a look at this: I started out talking about how I hadn't posted in over a week and ended with Shakespeare Man. This may be why I get strange looks from the Van Goats sometimes.

Rain, rain go away...........

you're tearing the ass out of me and my back yard. I know we need rain because we never get any during the summer, but this is getting extreme! My poor goats were paddling around the backyard this morning. I did get to mow the lawn yesterday and plant my gardenia, so I've got that going for me. Loving the new lawnmower - reel mowers are the only way to go. No gas, no oil, no pollution and you can actually hear your kids calling you while you're mowing. I realize that maybe some people wouldn't feel that that aspect of it is a plus. I, being the walking neurosis that I am, really like to be able to hear my kids while I'm mowing. So here's a picture of the fabulous lawn mower that I bought:

Yeah - it's cool, right? That's what I'm sayin. It's just so freeing to not have to go out and fill up a gas can to be able to mow the lawn. I did see on a website where you can order one of these beauties that someone said " it's not difficult to push of these and don't let anyone tell you it is.Anyone who says it is hasn't seen or pushed one of these in something like 20 years." I'm paraphrasing of course, but you get the drift. Well, it is a little tougher to push but that's okay because who couldn't use a little more exercise/resistance training. I don't know, that whole remark just seemed kind of pompous, condescending smart-ass to me. Hey - my dad didn't use one - nobody did when I was growing up. People were still too friggin glad to have lawn mowers with motors. Of course, I haven't seen one! Someone asked me the other day if my lawnmower was hard to push and I said "Yes, sort of - but it's totally worth the effort!" It totally is..........so get one already!!!!