Day 1: 20 random facts about me.

  1. I spend more on yarn than makeup. Always will. While I realize that I should probably care more about learning how to make myself pretty.. I just don’t care AT ALL. I’d rather be ugly, with mittens.
  2. I apologize for everything. It makes one of my sisters yell at me… and you should hear her flip out when I apologize to her for her being mad at me for apologizing. Oof… I can’t help it. I’m still learning to like myself. (Sorry).
  3. I can’t wear mismatched socks. I don’t understand those of you who can.
  4. I don’t eat eggs because I had a violent stepfather who forced me to eat them until I vomited. He had a monumental effect on my life because I’m so careful not to inflict the same life long suffering on my children or those that are in my life. Don’t like it? Don’t eat it. I will cut a bitch defending your right not to.
  5. With a Catholic foundation I built for myself and Mormon roots that run deep into the heart of Utah… I am an atheist. I would love to believe in God, Jesus and all their friends… but I’m pragmatic and have suffered enormous trauma. Two things that make faith a whole lot less available. I have a serious weakness for a faithful man though. I don’t know exactly why, other than the sight of a man on his knees in prayer makes mine buckle. Go figure.
  6. Thread count is my religion. Call me shallow AFTER you sleep on some 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton. I dare you.
  7. I can’t love a man who hates tomatoes.
  8. Same goes for men who love Android phones. I hate them and I want to see those three dots from the man I adore. I’m an apple girl, through and through.
  9. Brewers yeast on your popcorn is not optional if you’re eating it at my house. It’s NOT called nutritional yeast, either. I’ve eaten it since I was born and this whole “nutritional” trend annoys me. I will re-label any jar that refers to it incorrectly.
  10. I quit CrossFit and I’m heartbroken over it. Between the $334 a month (for an hour a week) it costs and missing work, I was going bankrupt trying to be healthier. I’m really proud of myself for transitioning my workouts to home and determined to stick to my goals, even if I have to light a fire under my own ass. It cost me $1200 to lose 10 pounds and I gained them all right back as soon as I started eating again. Live, learn and lift.
  11. My best friend is my therapist. I owe her my life and all the good things in it.
  12. I believe in love, marriage and building a life with someone. That has taken a decade and is still painful for me to admit. I fell in love for the first time in my adult life last year and it destroyed me a whole lot. I didn’t like who it turned me into and I spent a year working on my character so that I didn’t deliver the same thing to some poor unsuspecting man.
  13. I’m happy. I work really hard at it.
  14. I sincerely regret getting a puppy… but I know it will all work out in the long run. Commitment is challenging for me and adding more stress to my life was perhaps not the best idea I’ve ever had, but she’s such a big part of what helps me breathe instead of scream, laugh instead of cry and cling to that last tiny shred of faith I have.
  15. I’m afraid of a lot. This year is bringing a lot of ENORMOUS change and I’m learning to just have faith and keep walking forward. Where we land doesn’t matter as long as we are together when we get there, right?
  16. It’s 4:11 AM and I got up at 2 AM to write. I’ve lost my ability to sleep again. Virtually anything that disturbs my sense of peace and tranquility results in me being exhausted. Yay for undereye concealer.
  17. My son hasn’t spoken to me in 10 years. My mother and one sister have a relationship with him and that precludes me from really loving either of them as much as I’d like to. I’m just being honest and fallible. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again. I was a damn idiot 10 years ago and I don’t blame him for bailing. I would’ve too if I could have.
  18. I’m stupid dramatic when it comes to my feelings… of which I have too many.
  19. I can drive anything, learned to fly a plane when I was 16 and use Google to fix or do anything I haven’t learned yet. I am incapable of asking for help until the whole dumpster is on fire.
  20. At 43, I’m still absolutely fucking things up left and right, but I come from a place of peace and reliability now, where I used to have such a chip on my shoulder and expect so much more from the universe than I was ever promised or “owed.” I don’t hitch my wagon to anything… I carry it myself.

Did I really agree to this? 🙂

 


The Puppy

I’ve been looking for a puppy for a few years now. My beloved Peapod died 4 years ago and I lost my mind a little. I quit my job, started a new career… and ruled out ever having a dog again. My heart has never been so decimated as the day I wrapped my beloved best friend in my baby blanket and buried her in my garden. Her tags are still on my keys. The last curl of her hair, sits in my jewelry box. My loyalty runs bone deep regardless of your species… and I can still hardly talk about her dying.

In the midst of me shoveling a metric ton of snow and avoiding the unwanted advances of the guy I’d tried to hire to remove said snow… a cute little black and white face popped up on my Facebook feed. A “large, mixed breed” puppy. Complete with a heart shaped dot on her bum. I looked at the clock and realized I was 9 minutes too late and would have to wait until the next day. I hemmed and hawed… I tried to talk myself out of it and realized that I really was ready to love a furry friend again. I was just terrified of the what if’s of losing her.

Fear has held me back a lot in the last year and 40+ for that matter. I decided to just leap and figure it out later. I did what any nervous, second-guessing-herself girl would do, and went to see my favorite man. He may not know everything, but he knows me like the back of his hands and I knew he’d tell me if I were being crazy.

I- Do you have a crate? Puppy food? Toys? You don’t sound like any of your ducks are in a row.

J- Oh hush. At least 5 out of 8 are swimming in the right direction.

I- Well go get her then and bring her over. I want to meet her.

The tangible details of this man make my mouth water in spite of my determined resolve to pack him away with my other favorite memories. He has a fresh haircut and I’m trying to keep my thoughts from spilling out of my eyes and mouth. He smells incredible and I have a contact high from breathing in whatever soap he’s decided to ruin for me this week. He’s worse than a weakness, he’s a certifiable addiction. I left with a grin as he told me to hussle and walked to my car shaking my head at myself for being unable or unwilling to quit him, entirely. I took my heart out of the game and can finally just enjoy him for what he is: delicious, divine inspiration. He’s also rubber stamped my quest for a puppy and encouraged me to be brave enough to jump into the big dog section.

I arrived at the animal shelter about twenty minutes before they opened. Puppies are a hot commodity and there’s usually a line waiting for them. The epic snowfall from the night before was working in my favor and I only had a woman and her half dozen of tiny monsters in line behind me. I will never understand the “every two years” human breeders. For the love of Jesus, get a hobby that doesn’t involve dick. I hate to always suggest knitting but it does keep your hands busy and if you’ve already racked up six kids then you have some sweater knitting to catch up on. Two of them didn’t have coats on and I was working overtime to keep my judgy left eyebrow from reminding her to go get them for her shivering babies. I have two pet peeves when it comes to mothers. Feral children and cold/underdressed babies. Hippie moms with barefoot babies in the winter, I am looking at YOU. Unless your stinky, patchouli ass is wandering barefoot across the ice and snow in the parking lot, I expect you to round up some baby socks. My eyebrow went rogue and she went back to the car for coats as the nice volunteer let me in.

J- I’m here to meet Cranberry.

V- Meet or adopt?

J- Well I should probably meet her first, but you can have my credit card if you want to start the paperwork.

Why bother with the small talk, if it’s one thing I know about myself it’s that when I make my mind up to do something, it takes an act of Congress to stop me.

I walked around the corner and there they were. Four little faces staring up at me. Two midnight black, silky-soft boys who I fell instantly in love with and wished I could adopt as well. Two spotted female puppies were both vying for my attention and then I saw mine. Her little face turned from side to side as I said hello. My little Cranberry, who I knew the Dumpling would want to name, Unicorn. Their door was locked so I could only pet them through the bars and she laid her head in my hand the first time I pet her. It’s a hard thing to choose a puppy in a kennel of four because my heart breaks for the three I’m leaving behind.

I went back to the lobby, paid the $150 and walked back to point her out to the volunteer with a key.

Twenty minutes later, they placed a wiggly, gigantic puppy in my arms for the entertaining drive to collect the supplies I probably should have bought in advance. The Goodwill is dog friendly by the way- and outfitted me with a harness, leash and basket of toys in minutes. Walmart is not so dog friendly but then mine was howling to get out of the shopping cart. We bought food as fast as possible and I drove her to meet my favorite guy.

You think you know someone completely and then you add a baby or a puppy to the mix. Maybe even a little old Grandma? I have a weakness for all three, so honestly any one of them would have delighted me just the same. I watched him crawl around on the floor with my new furry baby, then jump around in the snow with her. I’m enchanted by the goodness of him. That’s really what it boils down to. His feelings for me don’t matter, if I’m going to be completely honest, it’s the raw honesty of him that knocks me off kilter and paints a grin on my face.

I- She needs a name.

J- Help me?

I- Daisy?

J- No… I had a dog named Daisy.

I- Bailey?

You could have knocked me over with a feather. Sometimes I honestly wonder if he can read my mind. I certainly hope not.

J- That’s perfect.

I left and picked up my little lady, giving her the biggest surprise a mama can give without firing up her ovaries. She guessed before she even saw her and we were laughing on the short drive home as she pulled our new little fluffy friend in for a hug.

D- Welcome to the family, Bailey Unicorn. ♥

bailey

 


The New Man in my Life

Before you all keel over in horror, relax… I’m still clinging to the hope I can wash my hands of men for the rest of my natural life.

He’s my new puppy. The best little man I’ve met in ages.

Meet Tucker Max, my little 2 pound Yorkshire Terrier.

He’s exceptional, and started out with nothing but the fleas bouncing off his shoulders.

I rescued Tucker Max on Facebook… through a friend of a friend. I fell in love with his little face in a minute and just as quickly I’d set up a time to go pick him up the next day.

Sober One Kenobe came with me. Pulling into the mall parking lot, I could see the tiny little brown & black fluff in her arms.

Oh.

I love a baby better than just about anything. Babies, kittens, puppies… baby chickens…

You name it, if it’s tiny, innocent & needs me to love it?

I’m sold.

Getting out of the car, I can see the frustration in her face. Uh oh…

She can’t pass him over to me fast enough and I’m ooohing and ahhhing like a little girl. So is my girlfriend.

He is SO cute.

She hands us a bag of dog food, a dish or two, a bag of puppy pee pads, and looks at him one last time.

L- Oh. He really is cute… he just has a lot of energy and gets into EVERYTHING. He does know what No means. Not that he listens to it much.

I pat him on his little fuzzy back. Awww… my little baby. Names rolling through my head. Bentley? Barclay? Midget?

L- Oh he might have picked up a few fleas from the cat. Take care! Have fun! Thank YOU!

Everything came to a screeching halt when I heard the word flea. He looks up at me with the cutest little face ever, and we get back into the car with him.

MSOK- Did she say fleas?

J- Eww. He’s not touching the ground when we get home, it’s straight into the flea bath with him.

He’s on my lap and I’m driving through the mall parking lot, searching for the nearest exit- anxious to get him home. Horrified that he’s flea infested. Eww. I stop at the stop sign and part the hair on his back, and he has open bleeding wounds all across his back…. and there are fleas visibly crawling on him.

I want to die a little, I can’t lie. Eww.

MSOK- She just didn’t want him, or what?

J- She lives next door to a crack house. She heard him barking & howling for a week before she went over to see WTF was going on. He was all alone, and had gone to the bathroom all over the house. No food or water. So she took him home with her. It took her a week to find the lady who owned him. Ms. Crack Head told her she’d been sentenced to a year of rehab or a year of jail and she’d be back in a week. She’d only had the puppy 3 days before she’d been arrested. Her neighbor was clearly not willing to babysit for a year, which is how he came to live at our house.

MSOK- A legitimate crack baby.

J- Complete with fleas.

MSOK- What are you gonna name him?

J- Tucker Max. After my favorite man. That adorable little flea infested crack baby could have anything he wants and he’ll definitely get away with murder. He’ll ruin some of my favorite things and he’ll make me laugh when the day seems endlessly horrible. It’s the perfect name for him.

MSOK- It is perfect!

I’ve said since I started reading Tucker Max for the first time, that he’s the perfect man.

He’s not a bad person, he’s just honest about what he’s done… and I fucking love him.

All the bullshit about him embelishing, etc… good LORD- it’s writing- it’s how it’s done- and chances are very very good that it’s all true. I have a lot of guy friends… and honestly there are a lot of men born without a conscience or a moral compass.

I ♥ Tucker Max, so much I just might have to buy my little Tucker a tiny megaphone…

Or a midget…


Chicken Tractors

I want one! Here is the design I’m planning to build:

Deluxe Chicken TractorCourtesy of the Deliberate Agrarian my favorite design so far.

With the ability to grow 40 meat chickens in one, and 30 or so egg layers in another possibly larger chicken tractor, I’ll be able to add eggs to our CSA baskets this year and eat homegrown organic chicken all year. Yum.

The biggest benefit (IMO) of the chicken tractor, is not having to shovel the chicken manure out of the chicken coop, with the added bonus of having the ability to offer your little feathered friends all the fresh green grass & bugs they could possibly want or need.  The chickens weed and cultivate while fertilizing the soil they’re on, and with the ease of moving them to fresh grass, they’re a veritible fertilizing factory on wheels 🙂

I can hardly wait for the snow to melt!

***See the latest issue of Mother Earth News for more information on the almight chicken tractor!


Cutiepie McYarn-Thief, aka Peapod

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Much as I love the little sweetie, she’s truly testing how much when she makes off with my new skein of cashmere yarn. I admit, I’m an addict, and I spend more on yarn each year than I do on shoes…

So when I see this tiny whisper of a dog stand on her little hind feet and snatch a skein out of the basket, I know I have seconds before she destroys it.

Foiled again Batman…

yarnthief3.jpg