"I Won't Be Long ...."

Famous last words. Whenever he who helps stranded motorists says this, it always turns into hours. And it seems like it happens whenever I have prepared a decent meal. I will give him 30 minutes. Then I eat.

Not that I have much of an appetite in this heat. I went out about 30 minutes ago and checked the thermometer ........ 109. In the shade. I was thinking about mowing the side yard. Now I am thinking it looks okay. It is mostly clover anyway and is only growing because I water the vegetable garden. We haven't mowed in almost a month. The insane heat and lack of rain has managed to turn the lush green fields into a brown desert with an occasional weed sticking up.

The pool is green. I noticed it had a turquoise sheen last Wednesday. I grabbed my scrub brush and bucket of Clorox water and set about scrubbing the water line. It looks like a tub ring of soap scum, but is suntan oil and sunscreen residue. Only way to clean it is with a good brush, bleach and elbow grease. As I approached, the water looked like the blue water in the toilet bowl after you pee. Turquoise. And you all know you look at the water after you pee.

So, there I was scrubbing away. I decided to clean the skimmer baskets as I was right there. What do you suppose I found? A bouquet of flowers from my very own garden. No, I am not kidding. I am assuming it was a child. Okay, the mind of a child. That was skimmer number one. They looked like they had been in the water all day releasing all their green plant substances to the pool water as the sun cooked it. I decided to check basket number 2. This one was even better. A clump of grass, complete with roots and dirt. It was probably a clump I pulled up myself in my flower garden. Opportunist not only picked my precious few flowers, but grabbed up some of my weeding, too.

Gee, I wonder why the pool is filled with algae? I ordered the Green To Clean for overnight shipping. This stuff was guaranteed to work. It didn't. I am sure the intense heat is not helping. I don't even want to think about the money sitting in the green residue at the bottom of the pool. Lost revenue. The money saved from not mowing gone. Oh, wait it was already gone in the power bill for the air conditioning that I normally don't run in my house. Over-nighters with kids don't want to stay without a pool.

We will be installing  surveillance cameras at the pool. So beware, swimmers who would deign to disregard the rules, I am watching you. As if my time behind the desk was not boring enough ......

Maya and Jada, Dog Lovers

The day with my son's family was so fun. All the girls are growing so very fast. Maya is all legs and arms. Jada is catching up fast. Wall-E was enchanted with them. He loved all the attention they gave him while Zara was more interested in the kitten and when we would eat.

It is always hard to get a candid shot of Jada. She loves the camera ..... and it seems to love her. Wall-E, well, bless his little heart, is just plain homely.

Maya is gentle with Wall-E and he appreciates that. Isn't my daughter-in-law pretty?

Jada just likes to pose. She is posing with the candy. All grown up, she no longer begs for candy. She is more subtle ..........

Wall-E has chosen .......

Jada moves on to Mr. Martha. I can't help but wonder if I could achieve that position. Maybe not.

Maya likes to read and was excited to get a copy of my book. The other two weren't all that impressed with it.



No, this is not a candid shot. It is of Maya, but Jada is too quick for me. Always posing.

We had such a nice visit with them. They will be in St. Louis Monday to visit the arch. They encouraged us to go with them. I do not like heights ...... at all. I don't even wear high heels!

I don't want the girls to see Gramma wet herself high in the air, so I will be here at the kampground. No doubt scratching a new outbreak of my malady. It had subsided, now it is back. I am sure the insane heat wave has something to do with it. My last outbreak was in all the major sweat areas. This new one is on my hands. It looks like a series of ant bites. I rubbed my hands in Campho Phenique. I reek of camphor now. It is not an unpleasant smell to me. If it acts as an idiot barrier, I may start using it as cologne ....... 

Coffee Beans and All About Zara

As I sit here sipping this magical brew, I am thinking about my son. He brought me coffee. This one is amazing. We brewed a pot yesterday afternoon and I drank a cup then. I was still able to sleep last night, but it would have been worth the insomnia. Heavenly, it was. The smell, the taste. Sigh. I will guard it and brew only for special occasion. I won't share, so don't ask! He who is addicted to Diet Coke took a sip and proclaimed it to be nasty. What a waste. I drink it black, so I can enjoy the taste of the coffee. Maybe he was expecting something with sugar and cream?

I love this face! My boy, all grown up. He is sweet and sensitive. One year on my birthday he came into my office with a bag in his hand and handed me my most favorite cookies in all the land of store bought cookies. Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux cookies. They are thin and crispy. They taste like the crunchy top of a pound cake (homemade, of course). Just don't look at the nutritional facts on the side of the bag. Just savor the delicate buttery, sugary essence. I let it melt on my tongue, then sip coffee. Oh, I wish I had some!

Zara is four. Mr. Martha, the kitten looks huge in her arms. Martha was pretty well behaved for the most part yesterday. It was a little loud and exciting with three little girls trying to pet him and hold him.

Zara found Gramma's camera. There were many interesting shots on it. This is Zara's legs and feet.

This is Gramma and Papa. There were some other shots of me ........ they have been deleted. Let's just say they were less than flattering. Thank the good Lord for digital cameras. I would have really struggled with paying for developing and then having to destroy the evidence.

We are not sure why Zara was climbing through the stools. Maybe Martha, the kitten extraordinaire, was showing her how.

She didn't get stuck ......

She seems to be intrigued with Papa's ever present cap.

Another face I am smitten with. She walked into the kitchen while I was working on our dinner. "What are you making?" she asked. "I am making dinner, what are you making? I asked her. She looked up at me very seriously and said, "I am not a maker."

Zara, the clown.

It's A Pity .......

The weekend is over and here I sit awaiting the onslaught of swimmers. I seem to have fallen off the face of the blogosphere. I have been here lurking in the outer regions, reading and laughing or commiserating with all of you.

I am not on a break. If you recall I am prone to the intense rashes of the poison oak and ivy variety. I am very careful to avoid contact and wash vigorously with my trusty laundry soap if I even think I may have come into contact with a suspicious plant. So when I noticed what I thought to be a mosquito bite on my leg, I grabbed the soap in the shower and scrubbed. You know, on the off chance that it would cure the itching of mosquito bites. Then I could reveal my discovery to the world and become famous .......... yep, I live in a dream world.

The itching did not stop and more "patches" of these itchy bumps began to appear. The itching is intense. I slathered myself with Benadryl gel. Minimal relief. I tried every remedy I could get my hands on. Nothing offered much in the way of relief. He who sympathized from afar (lest it be contagious), made a run to the local pharmacy and procured Camphophenique. Almost $5!!!! I remember when ......... never mind, he said I was worth it.

In the wee hours of the morning, as I lay scratching and thinking, I remembered a few years back when I had the rash and the itching. I called my favorite doctor and he called in dose pack of steroids. That will usually knock it out within a few days. It didn't. After 4 days I called back, almost in tears, as I had been itching insanely for over a week. I had to go in and he took one look and told me I had pityriasis. Pity what? Pity me.

There is no treatment, it has to run its course. How long, you may be asking? Varies. Could be 6 weeks, could be 6 months. You treat the symptoms. The itching. It starts with a "herald" patch (Hear Ye, Hear Ye, you have been chosen to itch!). Plenty of time to ponder such things as I watch the sky turn light. I had such a patch a couple of weeks ago on  my ankle. It was almost a ring of braille like bumps. I wondered about the possibility of ringworm at the time. It was accompanied by a purplish color to the skin. Like a healing bruise.

I thought nothing of it, I get lots of bruises when I am doing yard work. Most of the time I can't remember what I did to get a bruise. Ringworm would not be out of the question, I am outside as much as I can be and some of my chores are downright nasty. But I am quite certain now that it was the herald patch. Suffice it to say that I itch from head to toe with  outbreaks. They will start out with the intense itching and inflammation, then after a couple of days subside and tease me into thinking it is over, only to have new outbreaks occur close by.

Nothing helps much. I am trying to stay busy, too busy to scratch. Idle hands and all. Clothing bothers me. I am wearing loose clothes. I considered wearing some big loose dresses with no foundation garments, but I caught sight of myself passing by a mirror. I have reached an age where gravity prevents me from subjecting the public to that particular image.

On a lighter note I am looking forward to a visit from my son and his family this Wednesday. They will be on their way to Branson for a dance competition for Jada. Jada is a talented little dancer. I wish I could see her dance, but, we can't afford to close the park and go. I will have to settle for a video and some still shots. I am so happy I will get to see them, though. Can't wait to wrap each one of them in a hug and breathe in the sweet scent of little girls. They are growing up so fast. You can expect to see pictures later this week.

The first round of peaches have been picked and processed. The other peach tree is sagging under the weight of the ripening fruit. I have all manner of props supporting the tree, even a ladder! The birds snacked on the other tree and the harvesting was tricky. As the fruit got ripe, wasps would discover the peaches that had been nibbled on. Twice I reached up to grab what I thought was a perfect peach, only to find the top full of wasps. I discovered that I may throw a ball like a girl, but, put a peach full of wasps in my hand and I become a pwerhouse!!

The crows have taken up residence in the field near the pond. They have been stealing my apples! It may be the wrong season for a scarecrow, but I am thinking about it! In the meantime I am going to hang some windchimes in the trees. I have them in the vegetable garden with some whirly-gigs and it seems to help.

I have discovered that I can type with one hand and scratch with the other .........

Breaking The Rules of Dessert

My books are here. He who encourages me to write asked how it felt to have been published. No different, really. Kind of like someone asking you how it feels to be a year older on your birthday. You know that it is happening and are expecting the day to come, but really don't feel the newness of the age.

I do admit that it is exciting to see my name on the cover. You know, like I am suddenly somebody.

I never set out to write a book. It was just a way to try to make Gavin feel better about losing his puppy. Then Wall-E's personality came to life and it was just fun. Still nice to look at a stack of books and see my name over and over again.

I mailed one to my Dad and was shocked at the price of postage. Costs $5.00 to send the book. And that was after the postal clerk figured it several different ways. I had thought it might cost $2 or $3. I think it might be cheaper to ship UPS, but I would have to sign up and pay a weekly fee just for the privilege of using their services. That might not be worth it.

So, as I am pondering shipping costs and making jello with peaches from my tree to go with dinner tonight, I suddenly wish I had a cake.

When I was child, a cake meant a special occasion. My dad would make a German Chocolate cake from scratch. Mother was more of a cake mix baker. Nothing wrong with a boxed cake mix. I like to bake from scratch when I have the time. While shopping at WalMart last week I found that they had all 4th of July stuff on clearance. This included the cake mixes with red, white and blue funfetti.

Being the virtuous and thrifty shopper that I am, I snatched up two of the cake mixes and two of the icing in the tub. I mean, if winter comes and finds us in dire need of nutrition, I can always say, "Let them eat cake." My pantry is full and those cake mixes are right in my line of vision on the counter. Since there is not enough room to cram both into the pantry after I rearrange it, I baked one.

There are only two of us here in this house So I baked it in the jelly roll pan (took less time, saving electricity). So there sits a cake on the counter cooling. I have not iced it yet. For a lot of people, the icing is the best part. Not me, I like the cake.


There were rules I grew up with concerning dessert. You could not have dessert unless you ate everything on your plate. You could lick batter from the beaters to your hearts content, but you had better not touch the cooling cake, nor the iced one until it was "time". When I grew up and started my own household, I used the same rules. I don't know why. Cutting a piece out of the cake did not make it taste different. 


After the initial cut, that cake was then fair game. No more "time" rules. The cake could be a snack or even a meal ........ but only after the first serving had been served. These were RULES, people!


Today, as the cake sat cooling, I grabbed a knife and cut a chunk out of the cake!! No icing, just plain cake. And I ate it!. It wasn't "time"! It was still warm, my plain chunk of white cake with red white and blue funfetti streaks. I enjoyed it immensely with a tall glass of fresh iced tea.


I waited a bit to see if I might be transported straight to hell for breaking the rules of dessert. But nothing happened. I guess those rules no longer apply, what with me having a book published and all.

Weekends

Weekends are the absolute worst. It means I am in this office for twelve long hours. Usually longer. During the week I can get by with opening at 11 when the day swimmers start showing up. Gives me time to garden and clean bathrooms in the morning, then at 7, when the day swimmers leave, I can work outside again as long as I stay close to check in people. The day is still long, but I am not confined the entire time.

I stay just busy enough to prevent me from leaving my desk. I can stock the store, or do paper work; but little else. A trip to the bathroom is an event that involves locking the door and putting up a sign that says I will be right back and the phone goes with me.

So here I sit, hoping I can hang on to this train of thought. I was thinking about all the phone calls that suck the patience out of my day.

Me: "Hello, Kan-Do Kampground"

Caller: "Do you allow camping?"

Me: "Yes, this is a campground."

Caller, talking to someone else: "You talk to her, I can't."

New Voice: "Hello?"

Me: "This is Kan-Do Kampground, how can I help you?"
NV: "Yes, ma'am, do y'all allow camping?"

Me: "Yes, we do. Would you be tent camping or RV camping?"

NV: "No, we don't have one of those, we just got a new tent. Do y'all got showers and bathrooms?"

Me (tempted to say no): "Yes, we have facilities for showering, as well as bathroom available for your use."

NV: "What does it cost to take a shower?"

Me: "It cost $3.00 if you are not camping, otherwise, the use of the facilities is included with your stay."

NV: "So, let me get this straight ....... it is $3.00 to shower. Now if I shower, can I use the bathroom, too?"

Me: "Yes."

NV: "Okay, how much will it be if we stay?"

Me: "The cost of camping in a tent on a primitive site is $20. This would include 2 adults and up to 2 children. A site with electricity would be $2 extra."

NV: "So if I stay there, the shower will cost me $3 and I still have to pay $2 for electric?" "I think I am confused."

Me, in my mind: "You can think?"


Me: "Hello, Kan-Do Kampground."

Caller: "Are y'all busy?"

Me, after a deep sigh: "Busy? Do you need a camp site? Or are you inquiring about the pool?"

Caller: "The pool, we don't camp! I want to know how many people are in the pool."

Me: "I am not sure, I cannot see the pool from here, but there are quite a few cars in the parking lot."

Caller: "Well, then why don't you go out and look."

Me (while handling customers and checking in a camper): " Well, sir, because I am busy in the store and am not going to lock it up to do a head count of swimmers."

Caller: "Well, we kind of like to have it to ourselves when we come swimming."

Me (swallowing many words): "I understand and that can be arranged. We  can rent the pool exclusively to you and ban other swimmers for $100 an hour."

Caller: "What the hell, you are crazy."

Me, talking to the dial tone: "If you only knew how crazy, you would stop calling me." This was
his third call of the day.

Just a taste of my world. I would say it was the heat doing things to people, but I am inclined to believe that it has more to do with genetics ......

Dammit Doll Day Strikes Again

"Did I take my blood pressure pill?" I wonder aloud last night as I am getting ready for bed. My head is hurting and I feel crappy. I think I took it, but cannot recall actually swallowing it. I know I thought about it ........

I woke this morning with a pounding headache. Got up anyway, because I had to. I heated up some day old coffee and fed all the animals. I wish for rain selfishly, because rain means the pool will be empty and I can lay down. We need rain, but I don't care about that, I just want a little break. I tried to close early yesterday, like I do every Sunday. Seems like the very people who will tell me that I need to take some time for myself are the ones who are put out when I try to close early.

It is Monday and the pool doesn't open until 11, so I decide to lock myself in and lay down. My blood pressure is 140/100 and I think that I did not take my pill yesterday. My fingers are swollen and I can watch my pulse as my eyeballs bounce with each beat of my heart. I try sitting quietly with the TV turned low. After almost 10 whole minutes I hear the chime of the door. I try to ignore it. It is only 8:30, after all. It chimes again ....... and again. Then I hear Harvey, our work kamper calling me.

The propane company is here. Another annoyance. We changed vendors for a better price and better service. They finally delivered the promised dispense station and new tank a mere month late. We lost countless sales as we waited for the equipment and when they finally get it here, we discover that it has been wired wrong and the motor has been burned up. And now they decide to be prompt ........

After that, I gave up on the whole sitting quietly while the headache subsides idea. I turned every sprinkler in the park on and hung laundry on the line. I shook my fist skyward and dared the rain to fall. I cleaned a truly unmentionable mess in the ladies room. And if you read this with any regularity, you will be wondering because I have mentioned some really nasty stuff.

Around noon, after watching the day swimmers violate my signs and speed limit and biting my tongue, to keep from being rude, I call he who hates to be confined to the store and told him I needed some relief before I slapped someone and ended up in jail. He must have believed me, because he came home and took over. I went to bed.

I heard thunder rumbling on and off, but I had the shades pulled down and was laying very still as I willed the headache to go away. I never did go to sleep and the headache never went completely away, but it rained!! I got up to watch the water fall from the sky and onto my laundry on the line. I did not care at all. I inquired about the people in the pool, as the thunder was very loud at this point and the rain was coming down hard. They waited until lightning actually split the sky to get their children out and run to their vehicles. I cared not, it was raining and it smelled wonderful.

Didn't last nearly long enough, but dropped the temperature by 20 degrees. I piddled around in the cool air carefully. The headache hovered over me, waiting to attack. I came in and cooked up some fresh tomato sauce and processed the gazillion tiny peaches I had pulled from the tree. I put some in the dehydrator and the rest I pitted and cooked down, then ran through the food mill for my sweet son-in-law to make his wine.

We actually sat down and ate our dinner together with nary an interruption.  This is a very rare event and I wondered if it meant I would have to pay dearly for it later .........

As 10:30 approaches and I am sitting in my office waiting for the very rude tow truck driver to pull a disabled motorhome in, I have my answer. The call came nearly three hours ago from the dispatcher to see if I have space available. At 9:30 I gave up and locked the store. The driver called about 25 minutes ago .......... did not identify himself or the reason for the call, just demanded to know "where are you?". Since we discovered a propane leak coming from the new tank and had put in a call for service, I was not sure who I was talking to, but gave directions anyway.

My headache is back and I have taken my blood pressure pill and am longing to go hide in my bedroom until morning when  I get to do this all over again. Rain would be nice, really nice. A steady all day rain. I will leave my laundry on the line and start the sprinklers again ........