Road Trip and a Wedding!

Since the whole being broke thing happened, I haven't been able to do much traveling. That includes even getting out of town. But, this weekend three of us and a small dog are driving up to Oregon to attend the wedding of some dear friends.

With a few awful exceptions, I love road trips. And, I mostly hate weddings (unless they are for good friends who are not all caught up in the traditional trappings).

So, this road trip/wedding should be great. My honey, our friend Bonnie and her elderly dog Misty will try to make it up there as quickly as possible and take it slow and easy on the way back. We like the same music, all love driving, and view the world similarly. Sounds perfect...but previous experience has taught me that you don't really know somebody until you have traveled with them. The dynamics of "getting along" are altered when certain elements change. Generally, two usually works well, three is often awkward if not downright bad.

I'm not worried about it, just got to thinking of the multitude of road trips I have been on and the crazy, wonderful, irritating, beautiful experiences along the way. I am happily looking forward to seeing old friends and new places.

Deconstruction

Our house was built in 1951 and renovations were done in the '70s. Yeah, bad time for style. Fake wood paneling in the sun-room and kitchen, white plastic put up on the walls in the bathroom.

The walls have been painted with primer in the sun-room (we like to call it the lanai, sounds more exotic). The kitchen was hiding a lovely 1950's ideal of the Victorian era in the form of wall paper, now covered in metal paneling displaying an explosion of photos hung with magnets. And, finally, we are tackling the bathroom of doom!

For the last year or so, we have invited guests to graffiti the bathroom walls. Anything to change it's appearance that didn't cost money. Then we got the good news that my honey's mom would pay for an inexpensive reno. She was concerned about the sinking toilet and black mold.

So, it begins! The paneling down revealed and even ghastlier room that resembles a slaughter-house. There are, however, some really cool 50's stylized fish decals. Kinda looks like an ancient fresco. Kinda.

I know that this will be harder than it looks and will take longer than it should, story of my life! But, I am super excited and used to chaos and partially finished projects.

Flamenco Friday

Born on The Fourth of July

It's my old lady's Birthday, She is 86 today. Her name is Madeline, she is my neighbor and I take care of her. I am like a 1950's house wife in my old apron, cooking, cleaning, and generally taking care of her affairs. I don't do the same for my household. When I leave work (a short 20 second commute) I change clothes and head straight out back. It usually isn't until the inside environment is unbearable or that folks are coming over that I grudgingly clean up the joint.

Madeline was born to immigrant parents from The Azores. Her father worked on a chuck wagon around the delta on various farms. Her mother and 4 children moved from place to place along the way. When Madeline was 5 the family bought an old house and she has lived there since.

Our house was built on the families property in 1951 by her sister Emma's husband, Adolph. He went bowling one night and never came home. Emma is 91 and lives in an old folks home. She is a piece of work, a story for another time!

Madeline never married, never even kissed a boy. School ended for her at 14 but she has more practical wisdom than most. Her sense of humor a cheery nature are polar opposite from Emma's ways.

Today I will gussy her up and "give her a make-over" as she calls it. She will spend the day with her family and celebrate.

Genista Monspessulana

It is often referred to as a non-native, noxious, invasive weed. One plant enthusiast even went so far as to call it Evil. Apparently it covers 600,000 hectares in Australia. I don't know what a hectare is but that sounds like a lot! I didn't know any of this until it died last week.

I knew it to be French Broom, a lovely addition to my backyard. It grew from 1 foot to 8 feet in about 3 years. It was absolutely beautiful in the spring. It never spread it's Evil seedlings around to take over my hectares.

It's last bloom was the best ever, it's swan song. Then it turned brown and died. I don't know why, they are supposedly impossible to kill. This has happened before with plants, they are the most lovely just before death.

Maybe my boyfriend or friend Bonnie poisoned it, they've complained about having to make a wide arc around it off the path. Maybe it was Hank's (our 16 year old chocolate lab) pee. Whatever the case, when one of my plants dies I feel like a bad mother. I loved that plant. On the bright side, it will now be much easier to build a mound for Penelope, the 500lb fountain found on Craigslist for $20.

Flamenco Friday

Wakey, wakey

Mornings are always difficult and painful for me. It's not just mornings, it's waking up in general. I need at least a half an hour of zoning-out and drinking strong coffee before I can even begin to think...at all.

So, I was drinking my caffeine under the bay tree this morning and enjoying the bird's songs and the sun coming over the fence and that I had an hour or more before work to do some planting (though that didn't happen to happen).

My smallest hairy-child, Mo came running out back to where I was sitting and began to posture and prance. Then there came an awful hiss and growl, I looked down and saw a flash of grey fur. I thought it was my cat Nika. She likes to get out from time to time and think that she is a wild thing. She is a prissy, little Russian Blue whose previous parents had her declawed. After 3 years with us she is only just allowing me to hold her. She had been hiding under a chair outside for several nights.

An ugly mouth full of pointed teeth had me up and out of my seat, squealing like a little girl . My heart was racing and a crazy fear spread thru me, how long had I been obliviously sitting next to the critter and how was I going to get back to my coffee cup?

All turned out well. The opossum is gone, Nika is back in the house and I got my coffee. With it's mouth closed it was really quite cute.