Last night was one of those unforgettable nights. We weren't just celebrating three birthdays with extended family...no no no... we were celebrating it with a family member we haven't seen in years, along with an up and coming artist I haven't seen in so long, it's embarrassing to admit to...so I won't. You see, we all met at Natalie's Coal-Fired Pizza and Live Music up in Columbus. Not just for the awesomeness that is pizza, but for the spectacular music they showcase six nights a week. Last night happened to be extra special for us because Sam Lewis drove up from Nashville and played there for the first time. Sam happens to be Hon's lawyer cousin Andrew's best friend. They did a lot of growing up together, and have never lost that friendship. It's so nice when friends stick through the lean and the fat, not letting life flip their biscuits and pull them apart. Anyway, as I was saying, last night Sam played Natalie's stage after we all stuffed ourselves with pizza. I was totally impressed with his voice, his style, and his...well...plain 'ole rightness to be there. He made us laugh, he made us smile, our toes didn't stop tapping, and we couldn't help but leave with our own CD of his music to listen to after we hit the road. Sam's been a singer/songwriter for years. He has a smooth voice that draws you in. Last night was a solo act, just him and his guitar, but he's had the opportunity to play with some impressive musicians. I also heard him on Ohio's public radio station giving an interview and playing a few songs earlier this morning. I'm telling you, whether you hear him on stage, on CD, or on the radio, he draws you in. Here's the thing I feel a need to ask you... What are you doing to support the arts? From painters to musicians, museums to stages all of sizes, what have you done lately to support aspiring up and coming artists? Our history is loaded with playwrights, poets, musicians, dancers...the list goes on. You can find artists in venues of all kinds. From restaurants and coffee shops to the big stage, artists are everywhere. I challenge you to get yourself out of the house this coming weekend and visit a local artisan venue of some sort, whether it's that burrito shop that has music on the weekends, or the historic playhouse. Get your culture on! So, there you have it folks. Sam Lewis...Natalie's Coal-Fired Pizza and Live Music. You can find Sam, his touring schedule, and some great information on his music at http://samlewistunes.com If you're in the Columbus area and your mouth is watering for uber good pizza along with musical talent, check out Natalie's. You can find more information on their restaurant and calendar of events at http://www.nataliescoalfiredpizza.com Trust me, you'll be glad you did. Oh and Sam, you should be on cloud 9...not only for the incredible music you have gifted us with, but also the fact that I got through my whole story without mentioning once how I remember you and Andrew playing G.I. Joe when you were but wee kiddliwinks. I'm happy for you and your accomplishments! Smiling & Waving, Sharon
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Does your house stink? Are there odorous odors plaguing you from all directions? I can personally answer yes to both, but whether you answer yes to them or not, the recipe in this story is for you. You see, not only do we have a cat box (and an old three legged cat that can't quite seem to get situated in the cat box correctly), farm boots, and boys that purposely make the most disgusting smells, we also have well water that has a distinct odor of sulfur. In fact, our whole area deals with it...the water smell, not the boy smells (I don't think). We have a water system in the cellar that filters out the nasty smell of the water. It works well, unless the motor breaks, and we have to save up for another. I was so excited when the day came to order the part...even more so when the part got here. I ever so carefully unwrapped it from the box, skimmed over the directions for replacement in three languages I couldn't read before settling on the ones in English, and then set to my task. No, Hon wasn't home to help me. Yes, I suppose it would have been better if he had been...but then again, he wouldn't have bothered with the directions. So, lets skip to the part about the water pump being turned back on, shall we? I successfully put everything together where it was supposed to go, hooked it all back up, turned on the water to the house, and also turned on the new motor. It started right up, I was happy to finally be able to banish the sulfur smell in the house. I cleaned up the mess I made and headed upstairs, not a care in the world. Well, I should have thought to check on my handy work a little later instead of just basking in my world of happy. As I was enjoying reading my book, Hon went down to the cellar. He didn't come back up, but some words did come wafting up the stairs, some about being kind of, hmmmmm...shall I say wet...over near the water filter. I went downstairs to ask what was the matter, fending ignorance. "Why Hon, I just don't know what could have happened..." "I didn't have any extra parts..." "Well, there was one part that flung into the air, but I'm sure I didn't put it in backwards..." Yeah, focus on that last comment. That'd be the one. After waiting for that particular area of the cellar to dry better (thank you floor drain and dehumidifier), I set to the task of taking apart what I had put together, finding that part I was sure had been put back in correctly, and put everything back together...the right way. Surely you don't doubt me. I cleaned up my mess again, turned on the water, turned on the water filter, and PRESTO, success. Of course, I couldn't help but take many walks down into the cellar to eyeball my project to make sure there wasn't anything crazy going on (like the filter working backwards again). Nope. Perfect. So, now back to those odors... I'm no longer dealing with the sulfur smell, although if I could open the windows I would be happier. I do, however, still deal with an an old cat I dearly love, barn boots, and three boys that make enough odors on purpose that have driven me to the barn at times. What do I do to make our home smell nice for the holidays? Put the boys out in the barn you say? Well, I suppose that's an option, but it hasn't gotten to that point yet...although it may come to that after several incidents in the van. What I do is make a nice smelling natural air freshener. I got this idea from my friend, Lois, earlier this month at a Christmas party, and it works quite well. She gave everyone a baggie full of the ingredients we needed - a very useful and thoughtful gift. This is what you do ~ Buy four things (some you may already have): oranges, cranberries, whole cloves, and cinnamon sticks. You'll also need a small sauce pot and water. Next thing you'll do is peel the orange, saving the peels for the pot (eat the orange, though, it's good for you). Then you'll grab a handful of the cranberries and put them in the pot with the peels. After that goes in a small piece of cinnamon stick, and some cloves. Fill your pot up about half-way, place it on the stove top, and turn it on to a medium setting until the water heats up. Caution ~ the cranberry skins may "pop" open as the water heats. After the water is hot, turn the stove setting down to a low setting. That's it...just keep an eye on the water level. You don't want your pot to dry up, which would be the opposite of what happened in the cellar. Here's another neat thing about this air freshener...when you're finished with it, put it in the refrigerator to use again tomorrow. That's what I did. I took it back out the next day, added some more water, and set it back on the stove for more delicious holiday smells. The smell wasn't as strong, but it was still nice. So, there you have it folks. Water filter's fixed, although I still think there's lingering odor upstairs...from the sulfur, not the boys. My natural and fantastic smelling air freshener is happily heating on the stove top, and our kitchen is beginning to smell fantastic. Thank you, Lois, for such an awesome idea! Smiling & Waving, Sharon Since we don't have daughters, the only way I can get some estrogen-type companionship around the farm is by buying it or breeding it. Even so, there's no braiding of hair, no fashion shows, and no playing with make-up. Maybe that's why I enjoy shearing so much..usually. It's hard work, but it gives me a chance to play with someone's hair, er, wool. Today I decided it was time to get a hold of a few unsuspecting sheep and play beauty parlor. Since Hon and the kids were home, I knew if I needed an extra hand I'd have it. It started out pretty well. First up, Dandy's darker moorit and grey ewe lamb. I got her when she was eating...she didn't suspect a thing...sucker. I decided since she's in with Fella at the moment, and he and I don't see eye-to-eye when it's breeding season, I would take her over to the other pasture where mild mannered Ramley and his ladies are. That way I could do the job without Fella's interference. Everything was going well. We don't have a shearing stand, so I secure them to a post and use hand shears. That way I can skirt away the parts I want to keep first and then deal with the real nasty stuff. As I was cutting away, I noticed Ramley hedging his way over. Then he came up and started sniffing her. After that it's like all zippity doo-dah broke loose. He wouldn't leave her alone. In fact, he actually said, "Cool! Thank you for tying this lovely young morsel up for me so I can breed her without having to work at it." Next thing you know, he was doing his best to mount her, I was doing my best to keep him off, and I think every neighbor for a five mile radius heard me hollering for Hon. I tried to get her out of the pasture to continue the job, but when we got to the gate I noticed Hon had dumped out the trough next to it, which meant I'd have to drag her through mud and water, so that wasn't happening. I then tried to get her to the red barn, but it wasn't going very smoothly. The ewe was freaking out, while Ramley was trying his best to do what he thought was his job, and I ran interference. I felt like I was in a nightmare in the form of directions on the back of a shampoo bottle, only it was take a few steps, push the randy ram off, and repeat. We made it to the old turkey coop where I got her in there and then went to the house for backup. When I got in there I couldn't even catch my breath after the ordeal, struggling to get out the words, "Hon, get out there with me NOW!" So enters Hon in the picture. He gets the ewe out of the turkey pen and into a stall in the red barn, as Ramley skips behind like a lovesick fool. I really think he thought we were setting up a stall of love. Next thing I knew, before Hon got the door closed, out comes the ewe running full on into the pasture...Ramley right behind, of course. Oops! Then we spent the next 15 minutes out there looking like total idiots trying to catch her. In the end, though, we always catch our sheep, and she made her way into the stall with assistance...and without Ramley. He hung outside making moo-moo eyes at her the whole time instead. The nice thing is the ewe has been sheared, she stood real nice, and I love her wool, despite the chaos that I went through to get it. Ramley, on the other hand, isn't very happy right now. He didn't get the girl...but he, too, got to play beauty parlor with me. Because Ramley is Kid's ram, he was out there with me while I gave the trim job. Ramley was an excellent customer until I got to his underside. Then he decided to get antsy, which isn't a good thing when I literally have his delicate parts in my hand along with a gigantic pair of sharp scissors. In the end, though, I always get the job done. Kid and I are now haggling over the fleece. He thinks he's going to financially take me for a ride since he's saving up for two different Boy Scout camps next year. I told him he had better cut me a break considering I did the shearing, and will also be doing the wool cleaning, and marketing. I guess we're still in negotiations. So, there you have it folks. Today was beauty parlor day. I didn't accomplish everything I would have liked, considering the shenanigans we went through to get one done, but I've accomplished some of what I set out to do. I wonder what unsuspecting customer I'll get a hold of next! Smiling & Waving, Sharon As I was at Wal-Mart in the craft section this afternoon I came to a major conclusion. I, Sharon Steinhoff, am a yarn snob. I had my suspicions, but as I stood there sweating over the lifeless man made commercial yarns that would melt to my skin in an instant if there were a fire, I could only do one thing. Admit it. You see, I've been called many things over the past few years...from a fiber whore-der to fiberlicious, but in the end I'm a plain 'ole yarn snob. Well, you know I bought myself a 4-harness loom, right? It's been going pretty good so far. I made myself a nice little piece that's sitting on my make-up table using some cotton commercial cone yarn that my friend, Cassie, gave me for the warp, and Icelandic handspun for the weft. My next project in the Learning to Weave book is placemats. I decided that since it encompasses me making five of them, it will take quite a bit of yarn. I'm a bit short on time with spinning for myself at the moment, so I decided to go to Wal-Mart and buy some something that I won't cry over if I mess up. Also, thinking of placemats on the table that will need to hold up to the testosterone eating machines around here, I had better not put a lot of money into them. I figured they're only placemats, for crying out loud, and I'm learning, so I can do this. Hence, my sweating over yarn at Wal-Mart. Somewhere over the years I wonder if my priorities have gone astray with regards to buying things, although I'm not quite ready to admit it yet. I will happily spend $40 on a small amount of handspun art yarn knit by a fellow fiber artist, something that won't make a complete project, but accent it, without qualm. I will spend at least that much on a dirty smelly fleece, and even $5 an ounce for Muga Silk fibers without batting an eyelash. For me, when it comes to creating yarn, the sky's just about the limit (I do have to put a little limit on it so Hon doesn't freak). I will spend a good bit to take a fantastic art yarn spinning class from a friend, but about have a heart attack when I have to spend $ 10.98 for a 6 pack of underpants. Oh my goodness, that rinky dink steak costs $18.63??? GAK ~ head for the ground beef! Ohhhhhh, those handmade stitch markers are beautiful. $20, you say? Sure! I'm getting off track. Back to the story... I've bought commercial yarns at high end shops, even though they're pretty lifeless feeling due to the extreme processing, without having too much difficulty, but they've been natural fibers. You know...cotton, wool, alpaca... I decided not to buy at a particular yarn shop in our area recently because 1) it would be a whole lot of money for the placements someone will inevitably irrevocably stain, and 2) I'm conflicted about their morals, but that in itself is another story. Hence, my trip to Wal-Mart. As I stood there in the yarn aisle, I first noticed the death grip I had on my cart. Next I broke out in a sweat. As my hands were shaking, I reached out and grabbed the biggest skein of *gulp* acrylic yarn I could find for the warp. Then I quickly grabbed three smaller skeins of *double gulp* matching acrylic yarn from the same company. I dumped all of them in my cart, took a quick look over my shoulders to see if anyone saw me do it, and then tossed my jacket over them. I had to get out of there! Here I sit, telling you my confession. Is it the fact that the yarn is commercial? No. I've done that plenty of times. Is it the fact that it was $5.97 for 744 yards? Nope. Darn good deal. What it comes down to is the feel of it. The fakeness of it. Oh gesh, and to top it off, as I type this, Eldest just saw my yarn purchase and said, "Woah, that's a big thing of wool!" To which I replied, "It's acrylic." GAK ~ I need to give him some serious fiber education! So, there you have it folks. My trip to Wal-Mart for a good, albeit acrylic, value yarn. You might think this is a strange confession, but it's just one of a few hangups...like when I told you last week about Young'un losing his baby teeth...and of which he lost another of a few days ago. I'm sure the yarn I bought will make wonderful placemats...and I've seen many lovely items made from this type of yarn at the fair and around town. I just have to make sure no one around here uses them for evil, like when they took a few knitted dishcloths camping and put them too close to the fire to dry. Smiling & Waving, Sharon It dawned on me last week what really bothers me. I mean what really really disgusts me. It's totally nasty. I know, now you're curious. "Hmmmmm, what is it that really grosses Sharon out?" When I look back on years of possible reasons for disgusting-ness, things come to mind... I've been pooped on, peed on, spit on (all of these by our babies and animals). I've had Tucker lick me upside the face after eating a ton of clover (which makes horses drool this nasty green splodge, by the way), and that didn't even bother me as much as what really grosses me out. I've watched the miracle of lambs being born and then the ewes eating the afterbirth as one of our sons just about tossed his cookies over it. I've sat on and fallen in all sorts of I don't even want to think about it around here. Even the smell of rotten eggs exploding in a nest that had been abandoned didn't disgust me as much as this. Are you curious? Did I peak your interest? Well, here goes the confession. I think one of the most disgusting things to witness...to have to endure watching...is a child losing a tooth. There, I said it. It's true. I can't stand it. Young'un has been hanging on to some of his baby teeth for just about forever it seems, to the point where the dentist was discussing what to do with them wearing down and not falling out. He (Young'un, not the dentist) has now tortured me with the expellation of teeth twice in the past week. I've had to watch him stick his hand in his mouth to twist and turn a tooth. He has flicked at it with his tongue, trying to dislodge the one little piece that was still hanging on. I've had to listen to the play-by-play of how the loosening of a tooth has been going, and watch him rinse the blood off his fingers yet again. I finally suggested the old string and doorknob thing just to get him to try a different tactic, but he wouldn't have it. It seems he remembers me telling Kid years ago that if a tooth was taken out in that particular fashion the Tooth Fairy would not pay up. Gesh, the things they remember! Earlier in the week when Young'un finally wiggled the loose tooth out and showed it to me, I was so happy! Finally it was over. He could wash his hands off and stop making me want to throw up. He could put that little nothing of a tooth in a baggie and stick it under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy. I thought I had a reprieve. Well, as soon as he got himself cleaned up and stopped spitting out blood he said, "Hey Mom, guess what?" To which I of course said, "What?," and he answered, "I have another loose tooth!" Oh, the joy. Today Young'un decided it was the day to go back to sticking his hand in his mouth to wiggle his tooth this way and that. He did the tongue flicking at it thing, too. He even moved on to swishing water around in his mouth to get it out. Well, after trying to teach him his lessons while not gagging at the tooth extraction process, he finally achieved his goal. Next thing I knew he had a little slip of a tooth grasped between his fingers as blood ran down his chin. Gag! So, there you have it folks. Young'un has found much joy over the past week in not only losing a couple of teeth, but making his mother want to puke in the process. You have also learned one of those little things that have a big impact on my stomach contents. The latest tooth offering is happily sitting under his pillow in a little baggie awaiting Tooth Fairy extraction, while Young'un plots how he is going to catch the Tooth Fairy this time. Smiling & Waving, Sharon Last month Hon bought a new car. Honestly, I wasn't thrilled about it. Not because I don't like it per se, but because we had talked about getting a used car. You know what I mean...someone else's junk is our treasure...old to them, new to us...out with the...you get the picture. That salesman was a smooth one, giving Hon the pros and cons of cars. He even told Hon to drive the car home and tell me he already bought it, even though he hadn't yet, which thank goodness Hon had the smarts not to do. Oh don't get me wrong, he deserves a cushy seat with all the trimmings since he works two jobs to keep me here happily doing all sorts of who knows what to be done, but I figured it would be a cushy seat broken in by someone else's butt. In the end, after our discussion together on what to do, I figured ultimately the decision was his to make...although I was still hoping a used car would come home. Well, it's been a good month or so since he's had it. I've driven it a few times, but never had a chance to fool with the bells and whistles until today. When I'd driven it, Eldest had been with me, and he comandeers the radio. I don't mess with the radio because an unhappy teen in the vehicle makes everyone unhappy. Today Hon took the van, so I had his car to drive me and Young'un to Lancaster. Let me tell you something, those heated seats are awesome. So is the fact that I can maneuver the drive'rs seat in just about any position to make a contortionist happy. But, what really really made me happy was the radio. Serius-ly ~ as in XM satellite radio Serius, that is. Oh my goodness, I thought it was like a radio. Boy, was I fooled. It's like a music buffet to satisfy every taste. Young'un gave me the rundown on how it works (since Grandpa come to find out has satellite radio in his car). He told me all about it, so I figured he knew how to actually work it...but he only knew in theory...so we started playing around. Let me tell you, when Johnny Nash started belting out, "I can see clearly now..." I was thinking man oh man, you got that right, baby! Soon after the sun came out and unicorns started dancing to disco ~ Serius-ly! There we were, singing and boogying to all sorts of stuff. From 2Pac to Kids Bop, Ozzy to Elvis, we were having a blast! My only problem was driving. I had to be the responsible one. Young'un was grooving all around his seat as best he could, with a seat belt on of course, while I was doing a pretty good rendition of a bobble head doll on a dashboard. Let me tell you, I can bobble head, baby! So, there you have it folks. My new toy. Well, it's kind of mine, anyway. I'm now thinking we need to share the new car more. Hmmmmmm, I wonder if I can get a satellite radio hook-up in the house... Smiling & Waving, Sharon I decided a few days ago to stop walking by and smiling at that loom I bought, and start learning what to do with it. I'm not keen on dusting, and if I'm going to fit dusting a loom into my days of endless nothing to do (that's a joke), I might as well get cracking with the project. Thank goodness for books, because without them, I'd still be walking past it with that goofy look on my face, instead of sitting at it looking goofy. I never knew how much time was involved in getting that sucker ready for the fun part, which for me is putting the yarn, called the weft, on it. This is how I remember which is which - the warp is the yarn that runs north and south when I'm looking at the loom, and the weft is what runs east and west. The warp holds the weft part on, which is what I really want to do most. The first dilemma I had to solve was what to use around here to wrap the warp strings on to get the correct yardage. I found that if I turned a particular chair upside down and used all four of the legs, I had just what I needed. Little did I notice that the legs flared out at the ends, so when I finished wrapping the warp strings around it even the Hulk wouldn't be able to get it off without damaging the warp...and the chair...and at that point if that chair wasn't an antique I'd have made firewood out of it to get that weft off. But, being as I like my dining room set, I unwound it all into a ball and started looking for another unsuspecting piece of furniture. After noticing just about every single chair and table leg we own has fancy legs or flared legs, I found one that worked. Yes! I needed three legs to get the correct amount of warp, so I set to the task and got it done. After I tied it off, cut it, and took it to the loom so I could consult my book on what to do with all the strings, I realized the weft looked awful short. Then it dawned on me. I needed two yard lengths of weft pieces, not one, which is what I was holding. Basically...back to the drawing board. I looked upstairs, I looked downstairs, I looked in the basement. I measured everything I could measure to see if it would work for me to measure out 60 two yard lengths of warp. I even tried putting two chairs together and using the backs, but the darn stuff kept slipping off. I think the furniture started hiding on me at that point. Finally, I did the only thing left I could do...head out to the garage...and there I found it...something I could finally use. Thank goodness I kept this old outdoor chair through another summer, because I had been questioning my keeping it around any longer. Using three of it's legs I was able to wrap around and around what I needed (in the proper 2 yard length) so I could tie it up, cut it off, and then consult the book on what to do next with it. When Hon got home he asked me why that outdoor chair is sitting in the dining room turned upside down. I relayed the trials and tribulations of getting the warp cut to the lengths I needed without losing my sanity. I also told him of all the stuff indoors and out that I measured, that's the only thing that came out right. I think he's now afraid that chair will be spending the rest of its days there, because he looked up how to make a warping board and said he's going to make me one. That, by the way, is the easier way of measuring warp, and the weaving tool that will help me keep my sanity. So, there you have it, folks. My warp has been measured and cut, and my sanity is still intact. Now on to the actual warping of the loom so I can get to the weft of it... Smiling & Waving, Sharon You might not know this about me, but I'm a foodie. That's why my Jillian Michaels DVD and I have a special on again off again relationship. After the eating I did this past weekend, we're on again. Kid and Young'un invited their Boy Scout patrol, the Invisible Scouts, over for a camping weekend to work on their cooking badge. Honestly, at first I was skeptical. Not about the boys coming for a camp out, but for the food portion of the program. Although I leave camping with the Scouts up to Hon, I do know what their menus have been like, mainly being hot dogs and under cooked macaroni and cheese, and this lovely mixture of eggs and sausage they call moose crap. Therefore, I was kind of happy to have made plans after Saturday's farmers market to go to Yoder's Greenhouse for their fall festival with Eldest and my friend Cassie to eat lunch. Those plans were made before I had a sampling of Friday night's dinner. Boy, I should have stayed...although Yoder's chicken dinner was fabulous! Friday night when the boys started cooking I was apprehensive about the bounty they were going to procure for taste testing. So much so, Eldest and I ordered a pizza for dinner. After I had eaten my pizza, I ventured down to the campsite because the smells from there had come wafting into the house and were smelling quite good. There were two scouts having a pasta duel-off, another making grilled cheese and tomato soup (my favorite on a cold day), Kid making spider dogs, and Young'un roasting Tilapia with zucchini, mushrooms, and peppers in a foil packet over the fire. Oh. My. Goodness. Even after eating pizza, I found room to taste some of these awesome dinners. Each and every one of them were fantastic! Oh, and the desserts after...s'mores that had the added bonus of sliced apple and peanut butter with it, roasted bananas with marshmallows and M & M's...I was in a lovely chocolate haze. On Saturday, when I got back from stuffing myself at Yoder's, the boys were all fishing at the pond. We have uneducated fish. You think once they get caught they'd head for the hills, like all the frogs do when someone shows up. Instead, it's like they get caught, thrown back in, and then impatiently wait for another tempting worm on a hook to show up. Really ruins any kid for when they go fishing somewhere else and the fish avoid them like the plague. The boys caught fish after fish, keeping the men-folk busy with helping get the hooks out and showing the boys how to bait and de-fish hooks on their own. Here's the bummer about later Saturday. It started to rain. I mean reeeeally rain. We knew it was coming, and the boys decided to depart early, which I can't blame them for. Problem is, when they packed up, the food was packed up, too. At least they cooked dinner before they left. I didn't order pizza that night. Saturday night was another filling experience. There were submarine sandwiches that were better than the ones I buy at Subway. There was a bow tie pasta dish with peas and carrots in it. There was barbecued chicken soup. There was even a hobo stew cooked in foil packets. I sampled and sampled, then sampled some more...then there was desert...another blissful chocolate haze with marshmallow chasers. Mmmmmmmm! So, there you have it, folks. A weekend of eating meals I never thought I'd eat from foil packets, camp stoves, and fires. I'm still upset about missing out on the homemade Pop-tarts for breakfast. Due to the uncooperative weather, the solar oven made using a pizza box will have to be used another day, but I'm willing to do my duty and taste test the results. Time for me to go. Jillian Michaels is calling... Smiling & Waving, Sharon Well, it happened. A milestone in our family. Our first teen driver. I'm not talking about the permit to learn to drive...I'm talking about the honest to goodness make our insurance rates go up real driver's license. I was thinking now that it's official, I'd go ahead and give those of you that will be sitting in the passenger seat while your teen learns to drive a few tips. No need to thank me. You'll be in that hot seat soon enough. I don't know how your roads are, but in our neck of the county our roads are quite narrow, ours in particular being one lane. After the narrow, there's a small strip of grass you're lucky your tire might fit on, and then ditch...and not one of those gradual sloping ones either...I'm talking about one that's Grand Canyon steep. The first day in February that Eldest got his permit he went home, happy to have passed the written test for it, and that was that. Then when the novelty of it wore off I heard the dreaded, "Mom, will you take me out driving?" In my most confident of voices I said, "Why sure, we'll go right after school." Of course, my inner-Sharon was actually cringing in horror, white as a sheet, and screaming, "AHHHHH, go ask your dad to do it!" When the time came, with the patience of an angel, I explained to Eldest how to adjust the mirrors, shift the gears, and use the pedals. Then off we went, me giving a teenager verbal guidance, which I saw go in one ear and out the other. Eldest seemed quite confident as he swayed from one side of our road to the other, taking those turns too wide and too quick. Now here's tip #1: When you are sitting there in the passenger seat...white knuckle gripping the arm rest to the point of strangulation...trying to casually lean to the left in hopes of getting your vehicle to do the same won't work. You are at the mercy of your teenage driver now. I vaguely remember saying, "Eldest, going in the ditch would be really really bad...like tow truck bad," but it's kind of hazy due to the grip I had on the arm rest. Now, as your teenager is getting his driving wings, swaying less and building confidence, his speed will increase. With that increase in speed comes tip #2 - as you continue to white knuckle the arm rest, trying to nonchalantly push down on an imaginary break peddle with your right foot, that will not work, either. Again, you are at the mercy of your learning to drive teenager. It's like you've entered a mix between the Twilight Zone and Elmo's World...And. You. Can't. Get. Out. I'll never forget asking Eldest to drive me home from the movie theater one night. We learned real quick that sitting in the passenger seat for years, while paying no attention to the surroundings as a parent drives home, is not the same as sitting in the driver's seat for the first time, surrounded by the lights of shops, traffic lights, and other vehicles. Once we realized the van's lights weren't on, Eldest found the light switch to get them on, and another driver stopped honking wildly at us, we decided dead-of-night driving while there is no traffic on the road to contend with was our best option. And here comes tip #3 - take your teenage driver out at night to a business/shopping area while there is minimal to no traffic so they can practice driving up and down the road. That way when you are white knuckling the arm rest, leaning to the left, and pushing on your imaginary break peddle, your teen won't see you doing it as easily...and freaking out other drivers will be cut to a minimum. Also, while they're practicing parking in a dark and virtually vacant parking lot, and the police ask what you're doing, they'll agree that it's a good idea...especially when you re-hash the first nighttime driving experience. I still have nightmares over that red light incident. The good thing about all of the driving we did together, along with the class Eldest took through Neff's Driving School, is that he has become a pretty good teenage driver. All in all he must be doing a pretty good job because when he did his maneuverability and driving tests with the police officer yesterday he was given a genuine 100% no points taken off score. It was a happy day at the BMV! So, there you have it, folks. Eldest...our first teenage driver. I learned a lot while sitting there in the passenger seat, like how to pry my fingers from the arm rest and to keep swallowing quickly so I don't throw up my popcorn onto the windshield. Why, I even have a glorious two years of recovery time before I begin the wild ride of teaching another teen to drive. If I make it through what I am afraid will be a harrowing experience with Kid, I'll move into a bit of downtime before it's my final journey into the Twilight Driving Zone - Young'un style. Smiling & Waving, Sharon I had someone ask me a few days ago when I was going to get back to writing some stories. "Well," I told them, "I went on hiatus for a bit, but I'm ready to get back to it." You ever feel like that? Like you need to take a bit of a break and then come back fresh and perky? Well, that was me. I had to take a step back from the internet and rejuvenate. Oh sure, I was here and there around Facebook, but still, not like I had been. No, don't make me feel bad about it. I already feel guilty, but it was necessary for me to find my fresh and perky. Of course, there were many story worthy things going on, but I decided besides a few tidbits here and there, I wanted to spend some time with the family, enjoy summer, and work on some projects like my herb garden, and daily exercise torture with a Jillian Michaels DVD. For example, there was the time Young'un was fascinated with those nasty tent caterpillars and kept poking a stick at them. I told him if he didn't leave them alone they were going to get him, but he didn't believe me...until they came raining down on him. If you were in the area that day you would have heard Young'un screaming like a girl with those caterpillars all over his head and down his shirt. BLAH! Still makes me shudder thinking about it. A few weeks ago we had an article in the Chillicothe Gazette about our farm. Last I knew it was at this link - http://www.chillicothegazette.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2013309190013 - but I don't know if it's still there. We were thrilled to have it in there, and I was happy to be able to show off the hard work my family does to do what we do around here. Without their hard work and determination we wouldn't have the experiences and wonderful life we have. However, Kid told me under no circumstances was I to ever mention that the picture of him and Hon shearing sheep was one where he was wearing pajama bottoms. I told him no way, I won't tell anyone...besides, in that picture they looked like shorts anyway. Nope, I won't tell anyone. Ever. Now, on to my new toy ~ woohoo! I've had an itch to get a loom. I have a peg loom and a triangle loom that my good friend, Dana, made for me. They are fantastic and I really enjoy using them. Thing is, I also want to broaden my horizons and do some other weaving with patterns. I like finding patterns in things, and having a loom to create them is what I've been wanting to do. I searched high and low, thinking I found one, and then not. I've searched Craigslist, checked eBay, and perused websites. Oh my, there are a whole lot of antique looms out there, but I'm not knowledgeable about them to know if what I were to get would actually work. Some of them are ex-pen-sive, too! I'm a total noob when it comes to bigger looms. This weekend I finally found just what I was looking for. I had met a nice man named Larry at the farmers market that told me weeks ago his wife, Dee, was selling her loom, but he wasn't sure what kind it was. This past Saturday she and I finally got together and I was able to take a look at it. I swear, even in the dark of Dee's basement, when I saw that loom the sun came shining down on it, rainbows formed, unicorns danced, and I kept hearing the mantra minemineminemine in my head. Up there in the corner is a picture of it when it was in her basement...minus the rainbows, unicorns, and sunshine, of course. I had found my loom! Later that day I had Hon go over to their house to help me get it in the van and then here, to it's new home. What I have up in that picture (and now in our dining room) is a 1990 24" LeClerc Medico, which I have learned is actually a table loom that is on a stand with those peddles and such to make it work along the lines of a floor loom. I tell you, the internet can be a wonderful thing, and without it and fiber friends all over the world, I'd still be scratching my head as to what exactly it is. Now on to the fun part...learning how to use it. I figure I'll chronicle my journey into weave-dome with it, so you, too, may experience my journey. Right now I'm impatiently waiting on a book that was recommended to me by a whole bunch of folks called A Handweaver's Pattern Book that has to do with weaving patterns on a four harness loom. Hopefully between that, various other books I can scrounge up, and the internet, I'll be warping and weaving in no time! So, there you have it folks. Rejuvenation is a wonderful thing. I've got my bright eyed and bushy tailed back, and I'm raring to go...just in time to begin playing with my new toy. Catch you later, tater! Smiling & Waving, Sharon |