Woke up this morning, nothing to say.
Who me, the talker? Yeah me. Nothing.
Got a call from some bloggers last night, damn druken bloggers, roaming the city of Washington D.C., headed to a dive bar, with some sort of kareoke list? What in the hell? Just when you think you know people. I asked to be called if anyone sang. I didn't hear back. Which I am guessing means no one sang. Thank God.
I have managed a few 4 miles walks this week, it is cool enough out of doors. I am in love with my walks, but knowing that right out my door lies a hill I must climb right away, takes a little kicking myself in the hind quarters.
I am beginning to feel up to going back to yoga and pilates, but I do realize the walking is probably better right now. My private yoga teacher, has just opened a studio, this excites me, she does strictly, yoga..no pilates. I do need to add here, the pilates was helping with my tummy.
I have lost 5 pounds since being ill, with no real exercise regime, that could be muscle loss....damn.
The leaves are falling and changing, it is still 90 degrees at some point of the day.
I have to run a few errands today, I am not thrilled, they are tedious errands.
Nothing to say....
Friday, September 15, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Back Seat Driver
Dash is currently fascinated with my driving. He sits in his 5 point restraint booster seat in the back, and pretends to drive. He reads signs like caution, merge left, fines double, he offers advice. You get the idea. Can I tell you, it can get old. Especially if in a traffic jam, or a really busy or confusing area of traffic arises. The kind of traffic, where silence is the best. He just wants to give me all sorts of advice about changing lanes, and speed limits, and which cars I should pass.
Pink Ninja, sits in the back singing sweetly, or naps. (She only will nap in a moving vehicle) Oh and these "naps" usually take place 5 minutes away from your destination.
Anyway, so I pull into the library about 2 days ago, and the parking lot is small, and it is full of large SUV's. Normally I can just shoot into parking places, with little trouble. But this lot is sooo small, and Suburban housewives are not exactly "known" for parking SUV's in a tight spot. SO I want to be "the wife" that parks correctly.
I pull in, and then back up and try and straighten the wheels and center the thing. Dash, is talking the whole time, and I have no idea what he is saying, because I am concentrating, and singing with Pink Ninja.
I unload The collective and we head into the library, when Dash says to me....
Dash: "Mom, you really need to work on your parking."
AWTM: "Excuse me?"
Dash: "You really need to slow down in reverse, turn the wheel, and use the mirror."
AWTM: "Oh really?"
Dash: (serious as a heart attack ) "Yeah, you really need to work on it."
I promise you this conversation was not lost on me, the air conditioning and heating repairmen got a real kick out of it, as did 2 other women. There was snickering.
Can I tell you something, I was a little offended. I can park my truck like no ones business.
I hired a new Vagina Whisperer.....
drum roll....
My first male gynocologist, he is also over 65. Odd. But, can I tell you he sat and listened, and took charts out, let "the Collective" play with flashlights in the dark....
He offerred a list of possible things we need to try before we go removing organs. I am relieved.
It appears that my "ovarian cyst rupture": was likely the cause of me being in terrible pain and discomfort, and ill for 20-30 days. And although the Dr. does not know at this point, because I appear to be on the mend...he is guessing it was serious...
It may have been.....
He also thinks I could be having polycystic ovarian syndrome.
He was very empathetic, and explained things wonderfully.
*besides the fact that I feel I can trust this guy which is #1.
*I have permission to call and be seen on the day of complaint!
*office staff was BEYOND FRIENDLY!!
*WE DID NOT SIT NEGLECTED!!
*NO PAPER GOWNS!!
My first male gynocologist, he is also over 65. Odd. But, can I tell you he sat and listened, and took charts out, let "the Collective" play with flashlights in the dark....
He offerred a list of possible things we need to try before we go removing organs. I am relieved.
It appears that my "ovarian cyst rupture": was likely the cause of me being in terrible pain and discomfort, and ill for 20-30 days. And although the Dr. does not know at this point, because I appear to be on the mend...he is guessing it was serious...
It may have been.....
Rupture of an ovarian cyst may be asymptomatic or associated with the sudden onset of unilateral, lower abdominal pain . The onset of pain often occurs during strenuous activities, such as exercise or sexual intercourse. Light vaginal bleeding may also occur due to a drop in ovarian hormone levels.
Bleeding from the rupture site may seep into the ovary, which can cause pain from stretching of the ovarian cortex, or flow into the abdomen, which has an irritant effect on the peritoneum. The abdomen will become distended if rupture is associated with severe hemorrhage. Very large amounts of blood may be present in the abdomen, however, with no signs of rebound or rigidity and no nausea and vomiting. Anticoagulants increase the risk and magnitude of bleeding associated with hemorrhagic ovarian cysts.
Rarely rupture of dermoid cysts with spillage of sebaceous material into the abdominal cavity may occur. The sebaceous material causes a marked granulomatous reaction and chemical peritonitis, which is painful. Serous or mucinous fluid released upon cyst rupture is much less irritating, and the patient may remain asymptomatic despite accumulation of large volumes of intraperitoneal fluid.
He also thinks I could be having polycystic ovarian syndrome.
He was very empathetic, and explained things wonderfully.
*besides the fact that I feel I can trust this guy which is #1.
*I have permission to call and be seen on the day of complaint!
*office staff was BEYOND FRIENDLY!!
*WE DID NOT SIT NEGLECTED!!
*NO PAPER GOWNS!!
Energy
I need to figure out where the fountain of youth is, I do...
Here is a partial example of a photo session from Casa De Dust. There are 15 equally bad photos. Call it practice for the annual Christmas card.
Looks like I better start shopping for matching family outfits.
Here is a partial example of a photo session from Casa De Dust. There are 15 equally bad photos. Call it practice for the annual Christmas card.
Looks like I better start shopping for matching family outfits.
Project 2,996, what it can mean....
It is late and I am sitting here by the light of my computer screen. Amazed again.
Sometimes technology can be used in amazing ways...
When I first heard of project 2,996, I was very unsure if I wanted to participate. I was scared to try and memorialize an individual I did not know. Because whatever I would write, it was not ENOUGH. I also, did not loose anyone I "knew", but felt that profound sense of loss that most Americans feel. I really was trying to protect myself from losing another person.
A friend talked me into it, and I talked myself into it. I asked myself, if I lost my Husband, or Brother or Sister, would I want someone to think about them for a day, would I want someone to write about them? I really would....
So I researched Ramzi Doany and tried to do my best. Can I tell you, after I was finished, and I posted it, I did not feel loss. I felt, as if I had been lucky enough to meet him. I felt blessed in some strange way...
Tonight, I sat here by the light of my computer, checking my e-mail, when I note an e-mail from Ramzi's sister.
She was gracious, and was very pleased to hear of the 2,996 project. She was glad that his life has not been forgotten, and she thanked my Husband for his military service.
Sometimes technology can be used in amazing ways...
When I first heard of project 2,996, I was very unsure if I wanted to participate. I was scared to try and memorialize an individual I did not know. Because whatever I would write, it was not ENOUGH. I also, did not loose anyone I "knew", but felt that profound sense of loss that most Americans feel. I really was trying to protect myself from losing another person.
A friend talked me into it, and I talked myself into it. I asked myself, if I lost my Husband, or Brother or Sister, would I want someone to think about them for a day, would I want someone to write about them? I really would....
So I researched Ramzi Doany and tried to do my best. Can I tell you, after I was finished, and I posted it, I did not feel loss. I felt, as if I had been lucky enough to meet him. I felt blessed in some strange way...
Tonight, I sat here by the light of my computer, checking my e-mail, when I note an e-mail from Ramzi's sister.
She was gracious, and was very pleased to hear of the 2,996 project. She was glad that his life has not been forgotten, and she thanked my Husband for his military service.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Rescue and Recovery and what it means...
On the eve of 9-11, I recall lying in bed and watching the news, and rethinking the timing of this pregnancy. DH and I had waited 10 years to become pregnant. 10 years, and now there are men flying airplanes into buildings.
5 years ago today , I was working 12 hour shifts at a Nursing home as an LPN and Unit Coordinator. I was about 4 1/2 months pregnant. I was standing behind my medicine cart, wheeling it down the hallways greeting everyone, giving insulin injections, injecting medications by gastric tubes, greeting my staff with a coffee cup in one hand and a standing sideways so all could see my growing belly. All of this while watching images of smoke rising into the sky on television out of the corner of my eye. It was the beginning of we Americans were hoping to be a rescue effort...
After I passed my medications, I called my Mother who was 2 days out of hip replacement surgery, 12 hours away. The chemotherapy, and massive doses of steroids to treat her colon cancer and metastatic brain tumors, had made her bones brittle,and she had walking on a broken hip for weeks. (She had even just attended a game at War Memorial Stadium and climbed about 100 stairs, and endured the pain to watch her Nebraska Cornhuskers play Notre Dame.) The nurse passed me through to my Mothers room, and she complained of some thigh pain, and redness on the post operative hip. So I told her to make sure she had put on her anti-embolism stockings and tell her nurse. I ended that phone call with an "I love you, have a good breakfast, and tell your nurse OK?" My Mother replied with an "I love you too".
After that phone call , I went to the residential dining area, and assisted some of the residents with breakfast, passed trays, and then gave the medications that must wait until after a meal. After breakfast, I put my medicine cart away and sat down, ready to make a list of priorities for the day.
I went back to my desk, and felt the need to call my Mother again. So I dialed the number, and when the unit secretary answered, there was no putting me through to my Mother's room. The unit secretary, was flustered, and confused.
It seems that while physical therapy was walking my Mother back to her room after she had finished her breakfast. My Mother fell into respiratory arrest, stopped breathing, and had collapsed. Victim of a pulmonary embolism, which means she had a post surgical blood clot, that essentially was thrown into her lung. This can kill the healthiest of people... My Mother's chart had a green dot on its spine, which meant. Resuscitate.
My Sister works in the dietary department at the hospital, and just happened to be collecting meal carts, when she heard the code blue called. She walked onto the 4th floor and saw my mother clothes torn open nurses performing CPR in the hallway.
I was excused from work, went home and packed. Dear Husband, came home from work and helped me. I had to go home yet again. I was not sure if this visit, would be my final goodbye, or if she would recover. We had been lucky to be recipient of at least 2 medical miracles over the last 2 years.
There had been the colon cancer, that was supposed to kill her, then she recovered. Then there was the metastatic brain tumors, that almost took her life, then after radiation therapy...All WERE gone. She had outlived her initial prognosis of "2 1/2 months, if she is lucky"...She was a bonifide walking miracle, 2 years later
So we arrive "back home", to find my Mother on a ventilator in the ICU. Which threw me into a state of surreal existence of sorts. I had at this point worked in hospitals, and hospitals, and hospices, since the age of 15....I can do death, and illness. At the age of 15, I had my first patient die, and was left to prepare the body for family to visit. His cause of death, was colon cancer....Since that time I have seen a lot of people die....I am a pro at death and illness.
~when I was 6 and took swimming lessons, I recall the swim teacher teaching me how to float at a vertical, with my only face looking up at the sky, the rest of my body verticle under the water...And I excelled, I was the best floater in the class. I could float for hours if I needed to, and I was great at it. My swim teacher, told me I would survive almost anything
Can, I tell you to see my own Mother on a ventilator, restless, with IV's oximeters, drugged lying almost lifeless in bed, was too much. I of course kissed her, and combed her thinning hair, swabbed her mouth, applied lubricant to her lips...
This is not my Mother, this is a patient
Of course, I compartmentalized.
So we took turns, holding her hand...
and that was the hard part for me.
If I was bathing, or putting compresses on her forehead, or brushing her mouth out, or turning her, or helping the nurses change her...I was ok.
But the minute I was left alone with her, and held her hand, and looked at her familiar hand, or face. When she fought and twisted the ventilator...I had to get up and leave. I could not sit and be.
I would look up to see the monitor
B/P 132/80
pulse 82
O2 92%
and I would have to leave, because I could not cry....
because I would not stop.....
.......
I would have to go into the waiting room and I would see my family there, all exhausted, and older, and scared. And the television would show images of The World Trade Center, and The Pentagon, and Shanksville...
I keep hearing, there are few survivors
People are working so hard, and there are few survivors
And I am praying they find survivors, and I am praying my Mom survives...
5 years ago today , I was working 12 hour shifts at a Nursing home as an LPN and Unit Coordinator. I was about 4 1/2 months pregnant. I was standing behind my medicine cart, wheeling it down the hallways greeting everyone, giving insulin injections, injecting medications by gastric tubes, greeting my staff with a coffee cup in one hand and a standing sideways so all could see my growing belly. All of this while watching images of smoke rising into the sky on television out of the corner of my eye. It was the beginning of we Americans were hoping to be a rescue effort...
After I passed my medications, I called my Mother who was 2 days out of hip replacement surgery, 12 hours away. The chemotherapy, and massive doses of steroids to treat her colon cancer and metastatic brain tumors, had made her bones brittle,and she had walking on a broken hip for weeks. (She had even just attended a game at War Memorial Stadium and climbed about 100 stairs, and endured the pain to watch her Nebraska Cornhuskers play Notre Dame.) The nurse passed me through to my Mothers room, and she complained of some thigh pain, and redness on the post operative hip. So I told her to make sure she had put on her anti-embolism stockings and tell her nurse. I ended that phone call with an "I love you, have a good breakfast, and tell your nurse OK?" My Mother replied with an "I love you too".
After that phone call , I went to the residential dining area, and assisted some of the residents with breakfast, passed trays, and then gave the medications that must wait until after a meal. After breakfast, I put my medicine cart away and sat down, ready to make a list of priorities for the day.
I went back to my desk, and felt the need to call my Mother again. So I dialed the number, and when the unit secretary answered, there was no putting me through to my Mother's room. The unit secretary, was flustered, and confused.
It seems that while physical therapy was walking my Mother back to her room after she had finished her breakfast. My Mother fell into respiratory arrest, stopped breathing, and had collapsed. Victim of a pulmonary embolism, which means she had a post surgical blood clot, that essentially was thrown into her lung. This can kill the healthiest of people... My Mother's chart had a green dot on its spine, which meant. Resuscitate.
My Sister works in the dietary department at the hospital, and just happened to be collecting meal carts, when she heard the code blue called. She walked onto the 4th floor and saw my mother clothes torn open nurses performing CPR in the hallway.
I was excused from work, went home and packed. Dear Husband, came home from work and helped me. I had to go home yet again. I was not sure if this visit, would be my final goodbye, or if she would recover. We had been lucky to be recipient of at least 2 medical miracles over the last 2 years.
There had been the colon cancer, that was supposed to kill her, then she recovered. Then there was the metastatic brain tumors, that almost took her life, then after radiation therapy...All WERE gone. She had outlived her initial prognosis of "2 1/2 months, if she is lucky"...She was a bonifide walking miracle, 2 years later
So we arrive "back home", to find my Mother on a ventilator in the ICU. Which threw me into a state of surreal existence of sorts. I had at this point worked in hospitals, and hospitals, and hospices, since the age of 15....I can do death, and illness. At the age of 15, I had my first patient die, and was left to prepare the body for family to visit. His cause of death, was colon cancer....Since that time I have seen a lot of people die....I am a pro at death and illness.
~when I was 6 and took swimming lessons, I recall the swim teacher teaching me how to float at a vertical, with my only face looking up at the sky, the rest of my body verticle under the water...And I excelled, I was the best floater in the class. I could float for hours if I needed to, and I was great at it. My swim teacher, told me I would survive almost anything
Can, I tell you to see my own Mother on a ventilator, restless, with IV's oximeters, drugged lying almost lifeless in bed, was too much. I of course kissed her, and combed her thinning hair, swabbed her mouth, applied lubricant to her lips...
This is not my Mother, this is a patient
Of course, I compartmentalized.
So we took turns, holding her hand...
and that was the hard part for me.
If I was bathing, or putting compresses on her forehead, or brushing her mouth out, or turning her, or helping the nurses change her...I was ok.
But the minute I was left alone with her, and held her hand, and looked at her familiar hand, or face. When she fought and twisted the ventilator...I had to get up and leave. I could not sit and be.
I would look up to see the monitor
B/P 132/80
pulse 82
O2 92%
and I would have to leave, because I could not cry....
because I would not stop.....
.......
I would have to go into the waiting room and I would see my family there, all exhausted, and older, and scared. And the television would show images of The World Trade Center, and The Pentagon, and Shanksville...
I keep hearing, there are few survivors
People are working so hard, and there are few survivors
And I am praying they find survivors, and I am praying my Mom survives...
Monday, September 11, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
September 11 tribute....
2,996 A Tribute
On September 11, 2006, 2,996 volunteer bloggers
will join together for a tribute to the victims of 9/11.
Each person will pay tribute to a single victim.
We will honor them by remembering their lives,
and not by remembering their murderers.
In Memory of Ramzi Doany
On The morning of of September 11th, Ramzi Doany, 35, arrived on the 100th floor of North Tower of The World Trade Center. Ramzi, worked for Marsh and Mclennon as an auditor. We know, Ramzi logged into his computer that morning, and had sent a couple of e-mails out announcing his return to his office after being away on business....
We also know, he called his Mother , upon his return to his home in Bayonne, New Jersey the night before....
What I have learned about Ramzi Doany, through the written accounts of his life, I have certainly enjoyed.
Ramzi Doany, was born to Palestinian parents in Amman, Jordan. His Mother reports, him being a likeable and popular kid. When she would pick him up from school, he would be surrounded by a group of his peers, and he would be, telling them stories and making them laugh.
His Sister told the following story in an interview with a Jordanian news publication.
“As a child, Ramzi once dug a hole in our backyard for a terrible report card he had received and placed a headstone on top,”Ramzi Doany , attended high school in a London boarding school before coming to Milwaukee as an international student at age 19. With the goal of a career in international business, and earned a bachelor's degree in accounting at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee in 1992. After working in a local accounting firm he moved on to a firm in Philadelphia. That firm was purchased by Marsh & McLennan, and Doany was assigned to their New York office.
“When our parents asked for the report card, Ramzi explained to them that, “it was dead and buried!”
His family and friends also give several accounts of his kind and generous spirit.
Ramzi, amassed friends. He amassed them with acts of kindness, like tutoring a woman with lupus, two children and no husband, to get her though college, or letting his college roommate and the roommate's wife live in his condo for two years so they could save money for a down payment on a home.
His Sister says, her brother never had trouble making friends.
“One conversation with our next door neighbors and Ramzi was instantly at ease,” she noted.
Ramzi Doany, loved family events and would take her children to play golf and soccer. "He also loved to cook for us whenever he came for a visit,” his Sister added. "He loved cooking for family, and even took to cooking Thanksgiving turkeys and had great pride in preparation, (even if they were a bit dry)."
Ramzi, also loved reading, and particularly enjoyed the works of Charles Dickens.
In one interview with his Sister, she reports Ramzi, was an adventurist, and Ramzi had put a down payment on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle.
“It was to have been delivered in April or May of this year,” his sister said.
Ramzi, was one of the persons killed in the attacks on September 11th.
His body was never recovered.
In a interview with a journalist, Ramzi's Mother stated....“He always kept in touch,” she said. “If a week went by without a call from him I would always worry, I'm going to miss that presence and energy”.
Friends and family remembered Ramzi Doany in two separate services of Memorial.
One at Milwaukee's St. George Melkite Catholic Church, and another at Al Fadi Anglican Church in Amman.
Ramzi, May you rest in peace, and may your family find comfort in the sweet memories of you....
A note to the Family. I am sure if you are looking for a tribute, or memory of your Son at some time, you might find this site. I truly wanted to honor your Son, and Brother. If there is information that is not correct, or inaccurate, please let me know, and I will change it. If you would like the photos removed, or would like to add photos, I will oblige. If there is any other information you would like for us to know about Ramzi, let me know. I will certainly add it. I am so sorry for your loss...
jones.rachelle@gmail.com
Thank You to the following sites, and memorial sites for providing me with information, and quotes.
The Jordan Times
Scholarhip in Ramzi Doany's name
Jordanian television
Milwaukee Journal
Remembering September 11th site
Brothers?
Last night DH and I got all caught up in the excitement that is called suburbia. DH had been gone for a couple of days, and was simply exhausted. I...just exhausted. So we found oursleves caught up in some sort of Metalmentary, on VH1 of all places. Ok, I know a few metal bands and enjoy them. However, back in the day I was not hardcore. Most musicians I knew liked metal. I just have never gotten it. I like punk, some metal...but seriously, most metal I do not like. I can stand it in short bursts.
So DH, and I watched this metalmentary
However I about choked when DH saw Ronnie James Dio and shouted "Willow"....
So DH, and I watched this metalmentary
However I about choked when DH saw Ronnie James Dio and shouted "Willow"....
Saturday, September 09, 2006
On The Night Stand
However not for long. I will finish this probably tommorow. How can Mr. Palahniuk, make everything so absurdly funny. Perspective, I suppose.
Weekend Warriors
I keep checking in over at A Storm in Afghanistan, to check on this family, that need our prayers. I went again today and noted several posts. S.C. Eagle does update us, and it looks as though, he is trying to rest, which he will need...
I am going to ask you all to continue praying, and sending positive notes to this family.
It is the weekend, some of us will be going to church, some of us not, some of us will say grace over a meal. So please try and include this family.
There is a surgery scheduled this Tuesday, and this is important.....
Thank You,
AWTM
"Anyway, we went there and checked in. Doc sat us down and we briefed back and forth. He looked absolutely resigned and defeated. Spoke optimistically.
Surgery is Tuesday. It'll be the whole breast, and anything else they see while they're in there.
The biopsy came back positive for the breast tumors, but we pretty much knew that already."
I am going to ask you all to continue praying, and sending positive notes to this family.
It is the weekend, some of us will be going to church, some of us not, some of us will say grace over a meal. So please try and include this family.
There is a surgery scheduled this Tuesday, and this is important.....
Thank You,
AWTM
What I am doing....
I am currently reading Stranger Than Fiction, by Chuck Palahniuck. I would suggest any diarist go get this book. Interesting, but only leaves you wishing you could write like Chuck or Amy Hempel.
“The unreal is more powerful than the real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. stone crumbles. wood rots. people, well, they die. but things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on.”
There are at least 25 cover versions of God Only Knows, by The Beach Boys. 25, at least. So I am listening to them.
Of course there is the original.
The Beach Boys: The wonderful original
Langley School Music Project: A very sweet version.....
Elvis Costello: an orchestral version
Petra Haden: A fantastic accoustical version
So take a listen...
Friday, September 08, 2006
Battle of the Brisket
*brisket after a 20 hour marinade
Take that Contagion!
So for Labor Day, Contagion and I had a battle of the briskets.
Firstly. I do not LOVE brisket. It is a fatty and tough piece of meat. Odd combination.
Second, I think we bought the brisket in thoughts that our Memphis in May, award winning friend would smoke it for us.
So, knowing full well, that the four of us would never eat a million pound brisket...
I did gill it over Labor Day, as we had compnay over for the holiday.
I rinsed the brisket under water, then rubbed it with olive oil, course ground black pepper, salt, and garlic.
I then mixed 2 cans of beer with....the following ingredients
("Beer is a tenderizer because the alcohol denatures protein" )
1 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup rice vinegar
4 tbsp of lemon juice
4 tbsp of lime juice
2 tbsp of minced garlic
1 tsp liquid smoke
1 tsp red pepper
1/4 cup ground pepper
2 tbsp of paprika
1 tbsp of curry powder
I mixed the above ingredients, and allowed the brisket to marinate for 20 hours....
The brisket hit the grill at a hot heat about 400 degrees breifly, and then heat was turned to 180 degrees, for 4-5 hours.
While brisket was on the grill, I made a mop sauce out of brown sugar, and rice vinegar. The brisket was mopped about one time per hour on all sides.
Here is a photo of the brisket at half way.
Unfortunately, I did not get photos of the finished product.
Our company came, and i felt like a dork taking photos of the meat on the grill.
However, in the center it was medium rare, and ends well done. Cooked just about perfectly. It was not tough, and turned out to be delicious, I was glad to serve company a delicious dinner!
I will add here. The brisket was so ginourmous, it fed an armory full of men- lunch the following day.
Ode the the tomato
Tight bright skin covers
Red sweet flesh, I am saving
For my winter mouth
I stopped at my little man down the road yesturday, trying to catch the last of the season's peaches, and tomatoes.
Only, 2 half falts of peaches. I bought one. Very small ripe peaches, which we have eaten like candy. They are so juicy, we should be eating them out of doors.
I bought 28 pounds of tomatoes. Which I plan to blanche, dice and freeze.
I bought 2 vidallia onions.
I also bought about 2 pounds of small yellow crook necked squash.
Can I tell you I am going to miss buying my veggies from the roadside. I think I have a couple more weeks until he closes shop.
Rockstar
Pink Ninja, is 2 3/4. She is wirey, and 37 1/2 inches tall, not quite 30 pounds despite eating contstantly. She wears a size 9 shoe already. We are guessing she is gonna be a tall drink of water.
She is almost always full of JOY, JOY...unless of course she is tired. Then she is fussy. But most of the time, she has a big grin on her face. She is like having the Sun with you. Honestly.
She almost always has a tutu on, or a costume, at least one pair of sunglasses on. She likes carrying a stuffed animal with her. However, she does not have a favorite one.
She really is diplomatic, and will adopt one of her animals for about a week at a time. She makes sure they each get a ride, a trip to the store, to the park or library.
She is charming, and soooo easy to Mother. She enjoys being fussed over (gee I wonder where she gets that?)
Nature Trail
* heading out, please note Pink Ninja stick. (For killing bugs)
*half mile break
*learning about Wetlands
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