Happy Birthday!

Today is my dear friend Christina's birthday. If you have met her or know her online, you no that she is wonderful so . . .

Go over there and wish her a happy one!

Bravo!

Just when I had decided that my President was swinging way too far away from my personal values, he does something to redeem himself, ever so slightly!

Good job. Showing through actions that you care about our soldiers in and out of harms way, goes a whole lot farther than claiming on the Congressional floor that what you are doing or asking is for "the good of our soldiers".

George W. Bush is a man of strong character. I don't always agree with him - Immigration is a glaring example - but when it comes to our military men and women, he is a stellar leader!

Condolences

I just read over at Acidman's that he has died. His daughter put up a post that he has left this world.

My condolences to her and her family. I met Rob just once. He had many demons, hopefully it wasn't a demon that took him.

Comments seem to be off at his place and I wanted to send my thoughts to his family.

I'm alive

Just really busy. Once I get through this week, I should be good to go.

I'm still reading, but no time to form a thought to write something!

Cherry Season!

It is cherry season in these parts. Tart-red cherries. Perfect for pies and other yummy desserts. Nothing puts a pucker on your face like a tart cherry *wink, wink*

Ok, minds back out o' the gutters please, we are talking fruit here!

Whenever cherry season swings round these parts I have a fond rememberance of days past.

When I was in elementary school, the son of my parents' dearest friends was my dearest friend. I spent more time with his family than my own.

His grandparents lived on a horse farm and had the best, most productive cherry trees. One late spring we - all us kids ranging in age from 6 to 16 - decided to pick cherries. We picked bushels and then set about pitting them. After we were all covered in cherry juice, someone got the bright idea to start a pit-war. We set up teams and got some plywood from the barn to use as a shield/fort. At about mid-orchard two team members squared off and walked off a good distance, like a proper duel and pits began flying!

When each side had run out of pits and went through some respective crying and nashing of teeth - "you did that on purpose!" "Moooooom!!!" "That really hurts!" "Stop aiming for my eyes!" we began gathering smooshy, rotten cherries from the ground below.

Now, the sting of pits hitting our bare flesh was accompanied by the squish of rotten fruit. But neither side let up until the oldest and the youngest on one team began a fist-fight of unknown origin.

We, to every member of each team, were covered in pits, and cherry juice and mud and grass and stickiness. We were forbidden from entering the house to change clothes. Each of us stripped to skivvies (we were younguns!) and got hosed off by a very cold garden hose.

That sunny late june day will always stick out in my mind. For that one day, all us kids, cousins, step-children and friends, got along the best we could, took out all our frustrations in an hour and managed to have a great time all day!

I haven't had much contact with the kids from that sunny afternoon. I see a couple now and then, but we have all gone our separate ways. I wonder if they remember that cherry pit war like I do. I wonder if when they stand in a cherry tree orchard they have the urge to fling rotten cherries at the nearest bystander.

My husband will attest, I enjoy flinging rotten fruit at him at picking time. Cherry picking in my house is not a peaceful event. I relive that june day to a small extent every season.

My trees are ripening now, and soon, the house will be filled with the smell of those tart cherries baking into pies. I make a mean cherry pie! But I wonder, what kinds of innocent experiences will my son have that he will remember far into his adulthood. What scent or scene will take him back? Will the smell of cherry pies baking remind him of when his momma chased him around the cherry trees pelting him with rotten fruit? Better still, will that be a good memory - or one he'll need years of therapy to come to terms with? Ahhh, the questions!

For now, I'll await my cherries and I'll sit in the orchard on picking day remembering a pit-war fought long ago.

E.R. Stat!

Well, last night we spent the evening in the emergency room, the pet emergency room.

Our pup got a big gash in her side, from who knows what, and we took her to get stitched up.

The Boy was a little mother hen the whole way saying: "Casey, we gonna take you to the "bet" that's a doctor for doggies and the "bet" is gonna make you all better. You will feel better soon! Ok? I promise."

Then, while in the waiting room, he announced to those other pet-parents that: "Casey is my baby and we bring her here so the "bet" can fix her bloody boo-boo."

He was quite proud of himself for making sure that Casey was well taken care of.

Oh, word to the wise - the little vet E.R. visit set me back $400 simoleans. Why? Cause my son would be heartbroken if I hadn't fixed his baby. I'm a sucker for that little boy!

The Life That Surrounds You

Bou posted a great piece about enjoying those things around you that someone somewhere may never get to do.

It is an awesome post and one you should all read. She asks:

"What is it you have around you, in your state or your area of the country, that you have done, that you do or see frequently, that some may take for granted, that you feel certain that there are people in America who will NEVER ever experience?"

The comments to this post rock! I've done a number of things on the list and intend to try to do others. I thought I'd take a second here and answer that question (far better, hopefully, than in my comment)

I live in Western Pennsylvania. We have rolling hills, forests, farmland, lakes, rivers, streams, and history. Lots of history.

Here, where I make my home, I live on the George Washington Trail. It is where, at the age of 21, George Washington set out to deliver a message to the French, demanding that they evacuate the area immediately. He nearly drowned in the Allegheny, was fired upon by Indians in my little neck o' the woods and nearly died from exposure to the elements.

We can walk or drive the trail and imagine what it must have been like back then.

We also have the remnants of the steel city. See - Western PA is an immigrant area where the wealthy steel barrons had houses up on the top of the hills and all the blue collar workers built in tight communities down the sides of those hills.

Because of this, we are rich in ethnic flavor. We can get fresh pierogies bathed in butter and onions - mmmmm. We can get fresh pretzels, we can get kielbasa and sausages like no body's business. We go to the bakery and get kolachi and cookies you just can't get at most bakeries. We have greek festivals and polish festivals and irish festivals and croation and ukranian etc . . . We have amish and with it dutch cooking, we have all this. Now, I know cities like New York are rich in this ethnic diversity as well, but I don't live in New York. I live in podunk Western PA.

We say pop and yinz (I don't) and we put french fries and coleslaw on our hoagies. It is great!

And I know that somewhere out there is someone who has never experienced any of this. The three rivers, the Pittsburgh valley, Lake Erie, the Allegheny Mountains, four seasons. We have all that here. I am thankful for it and I try not to take it for granted! And I would hope that everyone could have a chance to experience it.

I brought my family back to this part of the state so my son could grow up here. Raise a cow or a pig or a horse. Learn to enjoy the sweet smell of a summer night, be able to see the stars in the sky unobstructed by city lights or street lamps, hunt for fireflies by the glow of the full moon, fish all day on a quiet lake or play roly-poly by rolling down the hillside.

Perhaps he'll swing out over a creek on a rope swing, or jump out of a hay loft to the soft but scratchy hay below, or throw stale bread to the carp at the spillway, or crash a dirt bike into a mud pit. I did all these things and more as a kid and I hope he can enjoy them too.

See, part of enjoying what surrounds you, and appreciating it as there are so many out there who can't enjoy the same, is recognizing it and sharing it with others.

So, if any of you are headed my way, stop on in for some kolachi and a nice sunset over a hay field! I'd love to share it with you.

Summer? What Summer?

It is cold here. It is supposed to be "summer break" but it is cold. Oh sure, we have some sunshine, but I was in jeans, a sweatshirt and a jacket yesterday. Cold.

Usually at this time of year it is already in the high 80's and beyond, but this year? There is a chill in the air. My orchids, believe it or not, love it! They are blooming up a storm.

Me? Not so much. But, I must say, I'll take the chill and sun over rain.

But seriously, when's it gonna warm up? Is this global warming at work?

Playing with Firemen Pt. 2

I am back from my weekend of playing with fireman and every part of me hurts.

My legs, my ankles, my hips, my elbows, my shoulders, my chest, my armpits. Everything! Even my eyes hurt.

I limped into work this a.m. beat. But boy did I have fun! We had some of the best instructors, and had a blast. Got really, really, really wet and ran around in the dark, tied stuff up *snicker, snicker*. It was great.

Oh, and I learned a new phrase this weekend, that women firefighters live by:

"Just because I have one, doesn't mean I am one!"

That was proven this weekend many times over! Oh, and I earned the right to say, "no one can ever tell me I don't know how to handle a hose!" Cause, do I ever!

One last thing afore I slip off and catch a quick nap - those boys were hot! Damn Hot!

Fun with Firemen

I have fireschool all weekend - blech.

I will be surrounded by hundreds of cute, sweaty men in fire gear.

Wait! I will be returning on Monday with a smile on my face!

What are your weekend plans?

5-Things

So, Tink went and hit me with the five things meme! She wants to guilt me into drinking with her in Atlanta, she obviously has never read about my pseudo-alcohol allergy. That's ok. Next time I'm in Hotlanta I'll make a point to have a beverage with her!

And! I have been remiss! Caltechgirl also tagged me so here goes!

So here goes, five things bout me!

5 things in my fridge:
saki
champagne
"animal milk" - Dannon's Danimal yogurt drinks
cheese
ranch dressing

5 items in my closet:
shoes
My clothes
a Lady Smith .380
a Taurus .22 snubby
my cat (usually)

5 items in my purse:
I don't carry a purse, but in my all-purpose bag:
a working draft of my will
bills
my inhaler
my ipod
my camera

5 items in my car:
car seat
turn-out gear and helmet
emergency bag
flashlight and cone
spare black shoes

and just to be rogue - 5 items on my desk
My blackberry
My cell-phone
picture of the Boy and me on a carosel
glass flower paperweight
and my Joe Cocker cd

There you have it. I'm not passing this one on cause its made the rounds already! Oh and Tink, your time is comin!

Boy Sick Drama

Here at the insane asylum in which I live, I heard these words:

"My tummy is berry unhappy."

Just before he threw-up all over my car. Yikes.

Up till four and he still couldn't hold a drop of liquid down. Poor baby.

How is your day?