I'm back

It's nice to come home from vacation. And really shitty at the same time.

It was a good one. We went to the beach every day. Although there was a heat wave, we stayed in a house with central air.

I do have a lot to write about, but my 16 hour shift looms ahead.

The shitty part of vacation is going back to work. Especially when you are going through one of those cycles where you despise your job.

I have been through these cycles a million times and I know that I get through them and on the other side, I am fairly content.

But for now.."Fuck this" I think to myself as I haul myself off to the shower.

Wooo..I'm back..See you tomorrow, right?

In a Pickle

Sorry I haven't been around, but it is June.

School ends on the 21st and then comes a trip to the Shore.

Things will be much calmer after Friday.

I feel bad, and I hope my brother doesn't mind yet another one. I know he reads this from time to time.

But having Horst coming up first thing in the morning clad in short spandex asking me to go out to buy him a jar of pickles,

and the subsequent argument because he wouldn't specify the type of pickle I had to buy,

was just too funny not to share.

Have a terrific day!

Happy Father's Day!

One time, B was asked by somebody what he was going to get me for Mother's day.

He replied, "She's not my mother."

So I take that point of view right into Father's Day.

B gets nuthin from me. I make the kids make him cards.

But I did start a tradition last year, which is to bring him a cup of coffee in bed, then the kids and I climb into bed with him and make him watch this on the computer.

I am so, so disappointed that they no longer have the whole cartoon on you tube.

So here are two clips from the cartoon. Better than nothing I guess..

Happy Father's Day!

And Then There Were 5

I am not looking forward to picking my kids up from school today.

I took the kids last night for a nature walk on the Parkway next to my house.

I took V and then he was picked up by B who drove by to drop off G who had just come back from  a friend's house and wanted to join us in our search for ducklings.

Thankfully B showed up as V desperately needed to pee and we were thinking of scouting for an outside spot by that time.

With V, I spotted several green frogs and a pair of cedar waxwings.

With G, we spotted the frogs I saw before, 2 muskrats, a lone male duck and a fucking squirrel.

Don't you hate when you hear a rustle in the trees or bushes, you get all excited as to what it may be making those noises,

and there's the fucking squirrel with a look in it's beady eyes that says, "What?"

The best of all, we saw a mother ducks and her terribly, horribly and unbearably adorable babies

Here is a little video we took.

Last night, 6 ducklings were with their mother. 

This morning, I checked on them after walking the kids to school and there were 5. 

I looked around for #6, but there was no sign. 

I know how nature is. I know why ducks and other animals have so many babies, but it still made me sad.

I wished for a moment that places like the Parkway had benevolent spirits or creatures that looked out for little ducklings. 

But no, they are stuck trying to survive with a small blunt nosed mother to protect them and good camouflage. 

And a bit of luck I suppose. 

Both G and V are well versed in the ugly side of nature and death. They have had family members and pets die, they know in detail how animals are killed and processed before they hit the table. 

G wants to be a falconer someday..

But a missing little duckling is certainly not going to go over well. 

I hope the little guy just got lost.

A Brief Rant

I don't care who you are.

I don't care if you have saved 50 thousand Romanian orphans from a life of poverty and prostitution.

I don't care if you are Jesus, come back to Earth to save us all. Or The Dali Llama.

I don't care if you are the nicest, most considerate, best, best, best person in the whole wide world.

If you are a person who wears perfume for any sort of engagement that takes place in a small auditorium,

You are an asshole.

I went to G's ballet recital, and I was strategically placed in such a way, that I was surrounded by women wearing too much perfume.

I am allergic to most synthetic perfumes. Not to the point of anaphylaxis, but my eyes start to burn, my skin starts to itch and my nose plugs up.

I watched the first part of the performance with a piece of my collar up around my nose.

G's friend Iz, cruel child, wouldn't let me hold the stuffed animal she brought, up to my face as a makeshift air filter.

Happily, I received a paper towel along with the bouquet of flowers that I got for G during intermission.

I held that up to my face for the rest of the performance.

Next time I'll take an allergy pill before I go anywhere like that.

Or better yet,

I have this little pipe dream I entertained myself with during the worst of it. 

Keeping a gas mask in my purse for such moments and wearing it when needed, in the most nonchalant manner possible.

It will most likely never happen, but it gave some humor to a very uncomfortable situation.

The little girl who made G cry at ballet camp last year, screwed up on stage. I grinned hugely behind my wad of paper towels. 

See, it wasn't all bad.

Private Area

I am officially on the home stretch. I survived Special Olympics. I survived the dinner dance. Now it's on to ballet mayhem.

I will be sitting outside of a ballet studio for the next 2 days, actually for 1 more day. Then there is the recital. Then done.

I have made plans for V during this time.

Tonight he goes to a friend's house to play Dragon Age-aka Dungeons and Dragons. I love how my heart sings when I write that. I love how B's heart sinks a little when it's even mentioned.

My geek genes totally kicked the ass of his athletic genes. (The ones he claims to have-he is not that sporty-but likes to watch sports)

Saturday evening he goes to sleepover at his friend N's house. N is a girl. V has already stated to me on many occasions, that he is going to marry N.

Honestly, I know it's a little early in the game, but I do hope that happens. N is lovely, as are her parents, so it totally works for me.

We were on our way to get his allergy shots last night. In the car, he was talking about what he was going to bring to N's house for the sleepover.

He mentioned that he couldn't wait to show N his private area.

After I gained control of the car, which had swerved into oncoming traffic for a moment, I said breathlessly, with a large knot in my gut,

"What do you mean by private area?"

"It's a Port O John I built in MineCraft. It where I keep my diamonds."

I was relieved that his private area wasn't his private area-but still, what a weirdo.

Bye Lump

I had a greasy yellow lump excised from my right calf today.

The surgeon showed me-it was pretty gross.

I also learned something.

I learned that if you have the right insurance, and a large amount of greasy yellow tumors beneath your skin, having them removed can be as addictive as chocolate cake or getting another tattoo.

I went there to remove one and made plans to have 3 more removed from my forearm.

I don't know if I am giddy from excitement or from my body's reaction to being cut open.

It went well and I am well.

It has been a pretty good day.

I walked the kids to school along with a bunch of other kids and 2 friends.

I harvested a shit load of chamomile, which I will hang to dry before my numbing medication wears off.

and I just finished eating a homemade German chocolate cupcake.

Not too bad for this week.

Plan K

G asked me yesterday which I preferred; Plan A, Plan B, or Plan C.

We were driving back from the new bee spot. I was disappointed because when I arrived, I saw my host family out in the pool and from where I was parked-they looked to be having a very good time.

I didn't want to bust in and say, "Hey, I 'm about to open the beehives so watch out!' I decided to leave and come back another time.

It was poor planning on my part. Next time I will call ahead and have a specific time.

It has been an awful week. The past three weeks have been pretty awful. I know they could have been far worse-but they sucked mightily.

I am hoping that it will be ending. As they say, bad things happen in threes, so I am hoping for a better week.

Not that the week ended all that bad, in spite of not being able to go check the bees.

The weekend was good, thankfully. Exhausting, but good.

So I was sitting there with G, who was waiting for an answer.

My response was, "I always prefer Plan A, because that is my first choice. Plan B is usually fine and Plan C is usually somewhat acceptable. Unfortunately, I have been having to go with Plan K lately. Plan K usually sucks in some way."

I am thinking that I may need to start making better Plan A's, never mind B and C.

Just something that I think I will be meditating on for awhile.

And while you are out there-do a sun dance for me-I need to get into those beehives.

I'm Ok With The Asteroid 1

Sometimes I will see something or read something and find myself looking at the rest of humanity with disgust and disappointment.

If you were to run up to me at that moment and exclaim that an asteroid was coming right now to destroy the planet, I would nod my head and say, "Yup, that seems like a great idea."

Despite having kids and many loved ones, despite loving so many things about my life and this world, at these moments, I would be totally Ok with the asteroid.

This almost always happens when I am in Walmart.

 I read an article in National Geographic this week that made me wish for that asteroid.

It was about the trash problem on Mount Everest, of all places. 

It has become quite the thing to do, to climb Mount Everest. There are companies that will bring any asshole up to the peak, with or without experience. 

While there are many decent and serious climbers and companies that take people up, there are plenty  who are not. 

The mountain is now littered with the bodies of climbers who didn't make it, trash and piles of human excrement.

I'm assuming that due to extreme weather conditions, you can't just send a Port O John up the mountain, nor some person with a spiked stick and a bag.

You'd think that if you went through all the trouble and expense to get up the mountain, you would at least be respectful and clean up after yourself.

 But no. 

Mount Everest, also called Holy Mother by it's indigenous people, has a problem with people shitting all over it.

 I think of all the shit and trash on other smaller, less well known mountains.

Then I think of the trash blowing down my street and all over the Parkway.

Then I say, "I'm Ok with the asteroid."

A chance of a lifetime, to scale the highest peak in the world. Admire the breath taking views and vistas. Feel the accomplishment of a lifetime. Just be careful you don't step in shit.

One More Week

One more week and I will be officially finished with end of the year kid business.

Yesterday was Special Olympics, Wednesday I have to get Lyd ready for a dance and then next weekend is all about G's ballet recital.

Then I can breathe a short sigh of relief before I am stuck with them 24-7 for 2 months.

I have much to do before I have to go to work at 8 but I wanted to share a Von-ism to make your weekend a little more cheerful.

On the way back from Special Olympics yesterday (I had to drive back and forth to URI twice in a day) V and G were talking to me about their middle school plans.

G is hopefully going to get into a gifted program at an area school. I am working on the application and keeping my fingers crossed.

If she doesn't make it, it's off to Catholic school.

V has been struggling with maintaining focus while he is in class. Suddenly a lightbulb went off above my head.

"Hey V, you know if you don't do well in school and can't get into the gifted program" (btw, V is scary smart, his only problem is that he only tries when he feels like it), "You'll have to go to Catholic school, where they make you go to Mass every day."

V's very colorful response was, "Fuck that shit!"

I began to compose a letter to Father Augustine-the head priest about V's response out loud in the car to the kids.

"Dear Father Augustine,
We informed V today that he may have to attend your school. V's response was "Fuck that shit.". We thought you would like to know first hand V's feelings about your church and attached school.
Sincerely....

V was in the back seat yelling, "No Mom don't write the letter!"

Have I told you about what I do to him when we pass the nun that walks on our Parkway frequently? I slow the car down and make to open my window and tell him I'm going to tell the sister what he said whenever. (I've said before about his vocabulary).

Nothing like V-baiting-he gives the best reactions.

I felt victorious-no threat of taking away electronics or TV, beats the threat of daily Mass attendance.

A Happy Day Dream

Good God it's been a hell of a week. I'm trying to find my stride again and it has not been easy at all.

But I am working on it.

I was driving to pick B up from work this morning, so he could use the car, when I saw an old woman out walking her tiny Yorkshire Terrier.

No bag in hand. The little thing could shit anywhere. Looked like it was going to.

A lot of people walk their small dogs on the Parkway near my house.

As I go out with Gus, I notice tiny piles of dog shit everywhere.

I think that many people who own these dogs think that their dog's shit is so small it will just go unnoticed.

No, no it does not.

I had a woman across the street who let her dog shit in my driveway all winter long.

It sucked having to shovel not just mounds of snow, but also alien dog crap.

I can pick up my dogs crap all the livelong day without batting an eyelash, but not other dog's crap.

 Just gross..Ew.

The woman stopped after I posted a sign stating that I would find out who the offender is and then call the police.

B called me a crazy sign poster, but it worked for a week or so.

The very day it came down, I was driving back from dropping the kids off, when I saw the little dog run out of my driveway and back to that lady's house.

I went there and told her that if I caught her dog there again, I would call the cops.

So after that day, I would watch her let the damn dog shit in the neighbor's front yard.

After seeing the bag-less lady with the Yorkie, I entertained myself for the rest of the ride by imagining a special place in the Afterlife for such people.

An immaculate house and yard, populated by numerous Great Danes with intestinal distress.

The head demon demands, in a rather violent and frightening way, that the place be kept spotless.

 But there is nary a paper towel or baggie to be found.

Breathing Again

The bees are safely tucked away in the woods of Foster.

The move went well and was far easier than I imagined and had nightmares about.

It is over for now, they are where they need to be, although I already miss them. When I was feeling out of sorts, I would go there for a few minutes and sit by the beehives.

It's now a 35 minute drive, but if things are bad, I'm sure the ride up and the visit will be just as good.

It has been a really shitty 2 weeks, between bee drama and regular life. Now it is done.

Thank god.

I had something funny that I wanted to write about, but then promptly forgot it.

Speaking of forgetting, don't forget the newsletter!

We're still doing it and would love you to sign up: Newsletter Sign Up- it will take 1 minute and you might get a laugh.

Moving Day

Moving day is officially upon us.

On Friday, I closed all the upper entrances of the hives and added an entrance reducer to Cabbage Hive.

It was sad, they were very docile when I did it.

 Allow me to anthropomorphize for a moment and say, "Ahhh, it was like they knew it was time to go and didn't fight me!"

No, I know.

Last night, B, whom I will refer to from now on as "Poor Long Suffering B" (PLSB) went with me after dark to plug all the openings.

There is give and take with marriage. I put up with his hockey related psychosis once a year and he helps me with ninja bee missions.

I had to sneak out from work for a half hour after the sun set, to plug up the openings.

 I contemplated bringing my axe with me for personal protection, saw myself swinging wildly at the hoodlums my stressed and paranoid imagination brought forth and decided to just call B and make him go.

It is kind of silly, seeing as how he is mortally terrified of furry nocturnal creatures that come out after dark.

We are more likely to run into those than faceless vagrants.

Well, there is the balance. I'll protect him from possums and raccoons while he protects me from my overactive brain.

Funny, I just realized that we have been doing that for each other for the past 14 years.

So, I just saw the time. It is now 6:45. I have been up since 5:45.

I brought Horst to the bus station. He is as talkative at 5:45 as he is at any other time of day.

As with any other time of day, I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

Yes, moving day begins soon.

B (PLSB) will fetch the truck, I will gather supplies and head North with a lovely friend whom I enlisted to help me.

I am hoping that I will be able to breath again by noon today.

One more time-thanks to all those people who have been so helpful. You know who you are.

I am thinking that if I get honey this year, much of that crop will go out as thank you gifts.

You guys have definitely earned it.

Ok-

 It's out to the Boondocks we go!

The Only Bad Word So Far

On the way to school this morning, I asked G what she had just said to her brother.

She replied that she told him that she was spraying herself with "loser retardant"

I was relieved.

I thought she had called her brother retarded.

I said to them that that was one of the few forbidden words in our household.

 I said they could say, "shit, fuck and asshole" to their hearts content. They could use those words in any variation they liked.

I let the kids swear. I think I have talked about this on here before. They are only allowed to do it at home or in the car, in the company of immediate family.

B and I have taught the kids that swearing is an art and a privilege, and I will say that when in the mood,  their way with those words is breathtaking

They just better not use the word retarded.

Thursday Von-ism

I have to take V to two doctor's appointments today.  To the optometrist and to the pediatrician.

After that, I have to try and teach him to ride a bike.

When G finds out he gets a whole day off of school and quality time with me, she is totally going to kick my ass.

V had been coming up with some good ones lately and since I have little time today, I thought that I would just share one and go.

The other day, I created a happy stir when I bought a bottle of coffee syrup. I think that V drank a half gallon of coffee milk in one afternoon.

V sat down at Sunday dinner with his glass of coffee milk and said, "You know, coffee milk is just like North Korea. It's isolated to one spot and nobody else knows about it."

Brief Check In

Hi Gang!

It has been a crazy 2 weeks. I've been crazy stressed out and exhausted from all of the stress.

I am thinking that I will be out of the woods by next week, after I put my hives in the woods.

I have planted some things and didn't have a damn moment to write anything.

I have gotten past my social anxiety and met some really great people, and I have a spot for my hives.

They will be going out to a friends place where they will stay for the duration.

The big hive, which I call Cabbage Hive, is doing fine after the vandalism.

The hive is a bit surly, so I am thinking a trip to the woods for it is best.

I had a lot of offers of help, help and many ears to bend over these past weeks and for that I am truly grateful.

And I just noticed it is raining outside, which means I have to drive B, who is currently suffering from Stanley Cup Playoffs Depression, to work.

Better get my ass in gear-

City Hive Country Hive

Hello my dear readers.

I am tearing up as I write this.

In some ways, it's not such a big deal, but for me it's a bit upsetting to say the least.

The day of the hive vandalism, a woman who works at the office on the property where the hives are located was stung on the eyelid.

While I was soaking my foot and making jokes about the hot cankle, she was in the hospital.

Needless to say, I am moving the hives to another location. I'm not 100% sure of where yet, but it is in  the workings.

A last inspection of my hive will be done on Friday in the company of 2 other beekeepers, and I will get ready to move.

And I got rid of my angry letter to that other guy..

As always, thanks for reading my friends. I may take some time off of here.

So that I may move some things, plant some things and write a lot of things. 

But who knows, maybe I'll be back tomorrow.

Morbid Children

A few years back I posted on Facebook that if anyone knew of a movie company looking for a child to star in a new version of the Exorcist, they should let me know.

At the age of 4, V had nailed the role of a child possessed by the devil.

My friend responded that we should open up a neighborhood children's theatre, "The Mount Pleasant Children's Theatre"

As in the Mount Pleasant Children's Theatre presents "The Ring".

It's actually kind of funny when you think about it.

Add any horror movie to that and imagine little kids trying to do a production of it.

Anyways, it makes me giggle.

Over the winter, we had a big blizzard. Everyone in the neighborhood was snowed in.

Lucky for us, we all kept our power, but we couldn't get out.

Mount Pleasant Children's Theatre presents, Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining"

Needless to say, my kids are pretty morbid.

I think that it's because from an early age, we have had deaths of close family members and pets.

I have never sugar coated the process, I have always been very matter of fact, but as comforting as I could be, about it.

I think their way of coping with such things is through play.

My favorite so far was "Lego Titanic"

When the Captain was going down with the ship, they would make him cry out, "I must do my duty!"

and then he would fart or poop (not too sure) loudly, before he went down into the swirling depths.

Duty-Doodee-get it?  It kills me every time.

A lot of their play lately is about war. I think that this must stem from the news that was going around about North Korea and the Boston bombings.

I will say for the record that I have given up on hiding tragedies from them. I tried to just not talk about Newtown.

Turns out EVERYONE at school was talking about it. So they heard terrifying news from classmates.

Great..

So now, I tell them an abridged version of anything that happens that I think will make it to their classrooms, I offer tidbits of information, asking before each one if they want to hear more.

I also forbid them to discuss it with other kids unless they already know first.

Back to the war play.

I caught them using water torture on G's tiny plastic "Squinkies"

 It involved a bowl of water and sopping paper towels.

I think it was more torture for me watching them make the enormous mess.

On V's bed of all places.

I believe I have Myth Busters to thank for the water torture idea.

I told them that Squinkie water torture is strictly for the bathroom and to clean up the mess.

Knowing that they were caught and were in the wrong, they were very compliant.

As I walked back down the stairs, I called out, "You are both very sick and disturbed children. I am going to call a psychiatrist first thing in the morning!"

An evil cackle, delivered in unison from the both of them, came from upstairs.

I shuddered and wondered if I should call a priest instead.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day

Even if you do not have kids-Happy Mother's Day!

You could go find a hobo, or a random furry creature, hold them against your bosom and get your mothering on!

Honestly, I prefer holding scaly or slimy creatures to my bosom. Less fleas and I think they're cuter.

This Mother's Day is turning out to be pretty good.

I got bee themed Mother's Day cards from the kids:

My cankle is slowly being absorbed back into my body:

It's kind of sad. I was liking the whole, "Get yer hot cankles heah!"

G purchased new tank furniture for the newest inmate of our menagerie.

I'll keep you in suspense-we'll talk tomorrow. But I will say I really like her and was happy I didn't have to go out and buy the furniture.

V also got sick last night. I sent him to bed with a cold facecloth and the big green bowl, which has been working overtime as a tub for the hot cankle. 

That boy vomited in the bowl and went back to bed. No mess anywhere, just in the bowl. No frantic calls of, "I'm gonna puke!"

I will take that as a special Mother's Day gift from a son to his mother.

My gift to you, my dear readers, for Mother's Day, is that I will spare you any gory photos of the vomit. 

Although it is quiet hard to believe that a child would actually make it to the bucket without a hysterical parent shoving the bowl under his chin every 5 seconds shouting, "In the bucket! In the bucket!"

There is hope and light out there after all!

Happy Mother's Day! 

Now go out and find that lucky hobo.

Hot Cankles Heah!

Yesterday was quite the swollen day after Thursdays hijinks.

I woke up at 3am with chills and aches.

I left my bed to lay on the couch instead of staring at the ceiling.

Vice, Bridesmaids and Caddyshack were the line up. I was thankful to whomever put that line up together.

Getting the kids to school was painful due to my swollen foot, so I cancelled all errand like plans and only did some things I wanted to do.

I had coffee with Joanna and while there, a sparrow ate from my hand.

Lyd and I got haircuts.

I napped on the couch and then B took us all out to the Newport Creamery and I got a cheeseburger and a big Awful Awful.

Best part of the day by far though was when I embarrassed G and freaked out her friend while she was over.

It is far easier to just stick a hot swollen thumb in their faces to freak them out, but I knew that I would figure out a way.

Several times I put my leg out and told them to look at my hot foot.

When I was elevating my foot, I sat and yelled out like a circus vendor:

"Get yer hot cankles! Hot cankles here! Get 'em while their hot!

Hot cankles heah!

The bees are doing fine, very active. I was glad they had a sunny day in which to clean up.

And thanks my friends, for the calls, the messages, the coffee and pastry, and the rush job on those hive stands-love you.