Four Writers in a Yard Scene

When the weather around southeastern Colorado clears for a day and the heat slips up the thermometer, writers often gather for a chore day at one or another home. We have a blast, focusing all our energy on the yards, trees and gardens of other writers - even in January.

At 65 degrees today, it was a great day for gardening. Even the Bouncing Betties were out in their full glory looking for sunshine out from under the compost.

The morning started with Danielle and I going out for breakfast at our favorite truck stop. Nothing is better than steak and eggs at a truck stop. Those truckers may know nothing but the road and the best greasy spoon cafes' but they've got a lock down on breakfast. I had a rib-eye steak, cheesy potatoes and two eggs staring me down with wheat toast and coffee that will tie your shoes and make your shoe leather stand up another winter. Nothing like a rib-eye to remind you what a real man eats for breakfast.

Danielle and I hustled over just about every topic known to man (or woman) and a few more besides, including those untouchables, religion and politics. (We disagree on both.) We got our whites and blacks confused, added color and called them both gray, then tugged at the judgment line and danced around the issue of Christianity and Jew-ism. As is typical, we tussled it all over until we were laughing at the differences in our differences, and named a few of our next books.

We discussed a series of books I've written and talked about the demise of the Grizzly in one of them. A Department of Wildlife Deputy is forced to track down a Grizzly bear whose fourth trip down the mountain reveals his lack of fear of man. The Grizzly has acquired a taste for trash and isn't afraid to enter a housing development to find the trash. The Department of Wildlife Deputy realizes the Grizzly is a real danger to people and his continued treks down the valley have left the deputy no choice but to end the danger. As he sits on a rock, resting from his long hours of tracking time the Grizzly joins him, standing up to his full seven foot height, he faces the deputy.

As the deputy leaves the scene with the Grizzly, he realizes the value and purpose of the friendship they've developed over the years. The deputy acknowledges the importance of the random elements of their friendship and the differences between man and bear including their value system. The reality, clear focus of lonely, long efforts of finding a life mate become clear in the face of their friendship. The beauty is the understanding between them, that no matter what happened, the two of them felt the kinship of lonely displacement. Absence of one of them encourages the other to pursue a relationship he's been avoiding because of the weight of commitment.

With yet another contract pending, this series is rife with purpose and reader value. Danielle and I have decided I won't wait on another contract, if this one fails. I'll self-publish.

I came home and worked for several hours, taking a moment here and there to work on our book (we'll both be writing it) and she focused on hauling compost.

Danielle Simone raked leaves single handedly for most of the morning until the rest of us dug in and started helping her. She'd managed to get the cart filled up a couple of times before we all got into the swing of things. Lunch consisted of Jr. Whoppers and ice cream cones. Danielle was part way through her ice cream cone when she started choking. I rushed her to the Emergency room to find out her throat was scratched really badly from some unknown source (probably whatever had choked her) and the common consensus was that she'd swallowed a piece of ice, probably frozen milk from the ice cream mix. She survived.

The event was an unnecessary reminder that life is too short to waste a moment. We returned home to find her husband slightly concerned (he hadn't heard the whole story) and my son waiting to be taxied to guitar lessons.

Oris George showed up just before sunset to help us move some limbs he wanted for his fire, and promised to come back today to help my son, Kenton, Don and Danielle, Sean and I chop down some trees and finish clearing out a yard that seems to have captured the attention of the City Code Inspectors for our tiny community.

Charge!

Community Service - Remember Quality

Do you remember when you could play baseball in the street and the worst thing that could happen was a fly ball hitting Mr. Brumgarter's picture window? This week, I listened to a group of officers talk to young kids about how to be safe in their community, and they recommended they have an adult with them at all times when playing out in the community.

I'm appalled that our children must constantly worry about having an adult with them to be safe.

Whatever happened to being safe outside your own locked doors? Isn't there any place our children can play and feel safe?

At the end of my street, there's a park where my kids (now all teens and above) often go to play ball and hang out. The local police department has issued a warning that all kids should hang out in groups of two or more, to be safe. So, my boys take groups of friends to the ball field or park at the end of the street. Do I feel they're safe?

Yes, because the first house beside the park belongs to friends of mine who would not only call the police but most likely would take care of any problems before the police arrived. I feel confident enough of this that I personally have no problem walking to the park alone, even at night, sometimes. It's a nice walk from my house, and I enjoy the night air.

Recently, our police department has changed. Almost every officer is new in town, with few exceptions. What formerly was a tight knit group of people who were loved by the community, and well known in the community, is now a group of strangers not recognized. The difference is community distrust. Not only do the police officers distrust the community, but the community doesn't trust law enforcement.

Living in fear of my local community services isn't my idea of a quality life. I want more. I require more. And, I'm determined to have more. As a citizen in this community, I'm definitely focused on bringing back the safety and security, not to mention FREEDOM that I felt in my community as a child. I want my life back. How about you?

Quality of life means we're willing to Take Charge!

Cure for Frozen Bath Tub Drains

Rock salt --- that same stuff you put on your sidewalks to melt the ice. A couple table spoons of rock salt down the drain and plung it. The ice goes away and you're all set for showers again.

Thought you'd like to know.

OMG, She's a Single Mom!

I knew I was in trouble when I showed up wearing jeans. The other moms in the group wore pretty dresses, high heels and curly hair tied up in buns.

The first clue came when my kids piled out of the van, and just kept coming. I had my four kids, my sister's three kids, and two neighbor kids whose mom was busy working. We all home schooled, but I was the only one available for this trip. I was driving the "Jan Van." We had room for three more.

There were five vans in the line up, all had men drivers. Except the "Jan Van," it had me.

I got out, uncurled two strollers, a fanny pack and a picnic basket. My fourteen year old daughter corraled most of the kids. My niece and a neighbor girl ran for the overlook. I called, "Don't fall over!" as they passed me. We got the three youngest, two mine and a neighbor child in the strollers and determined who was pushing strollers before we all gathered on the overlook for a quick looksee, to see how far down it was to the next level.

We determined it would be a quiet "splat" from this distance. Nobody fell over.

We filled up two picnic tables for lunch. After a quick "Grace" from the leader, a pastor in a local church, everyone commenced to eating the food on their tables. The open air and early spring day made for hungry tummy monsters and everyone was ready for their ham and cheese, pickles and chips. The cookies we saved for later. But, we nibbled on fruit while kids chattered away the time, waiting on other kids to finish. I put the food back in the basket and the boys carried our basket back to the van.

The first part of the afternoon was spent walking along the river trail, at lodge height, a ways up the mountain. The group intermingled to some extent. I could pick my niece out of any part of the crowd. The shortest in her age group, she was also the most verbal. She pushed a stroller and carried a small fanny pack with supplies. My daughter pushed a stroller with another fanny pack. And, I carried the rear with a baby in a backpack and another fanny pack. We had juice, water bottles, and other necessities.

If other kids came up and wanted a juice box, we had plenty for everyone. We shared nicely and everyone had a good time.

After the first bend in the river, one mom stepped back and said, "My son didn't need juice, how much do I owe you?"

I said, "You owe me nothing, I brought extra." We kept walking along the path, strollers tangled up and the other kids helped us push (or carry them) through the underbrush. We kept walking. My five year old got tired and crawled in the stroller with his brother for a nap. We kept tromping through the underbrush, leaving little mark, other than wheel tracks in our wake.

The river walk was well known, hard packed, and easy to walk even with strollers. Although, I felt a bit sorry for the ladies in high heels, as I tromped along in my hiking boots. One lady kept stopping to dump the gravel from her open toed pumps, until she finally offered to just push a stroller, so she had something to lean on when she had to stop. My daughter gave up her stroller post reluctantly.

Teenaged girls in the group suffered similar trauma,with rough sticks and brush catching their legs as they walked along four and five wide. The path wasn't created for dresses and bare legs. By the time we arrived near the river where broad open and sandy beaches welcomed bare feet, the girls had lost their mommy-shoes and were threading bare feet through the cool sand.

The kids all wanted more juice and we opened a couple of boxes packed beneath a stroller, so everyone could have more drinks. My niece pulled out a couple bags of cookies to enjoy with the juice. There was plenty of murmering among the ranks, but laughter as plentiful and the kids were having a good time. As the sun began to sink behind the mountains, I noticed the ladies gathering up their things and packing them away in backpacks.

One gentleman walked over, "Jan, we're going up to get the vans, the girls don't want to walk back up the mountain. One of my boys can drive my van, if you'd like me to bring your van down."

Another glance at the group of tired kids and I handed over my keys.

I walked a ways with him, explaining about the loose baby seat in the back seat of the van. I hadn't put the belt back on and I was concerned it might come flying at the driver.

A bit away from the crowd, he stopped and asked if I was married. I said, "Nope, my ex left almost a year ago and I'm a single mom."

He said, "After this, perhaps you'd rather ride along with one of the other families, so you can dress more appropriately and enjoy a day without responsibility."

I glanced around at the other women in the group, suffering from sore feet, and answered, "No, I think I'd probably dress the same as I am now, and I don't mind driving. Thank you."

"Besides," I smiled at him, "Where would you put all my extras?"

"Well, they wouldn't be allowed to come." He answered, "We prefer our children come along only with parents. We don't intermingle without parents included."

"Oh," I realized for the first time that all the children, outside my troup were with their own parents and really hadn't been mingling much, except for my herd. My kids had all interspersed the rest of the crowd and found friends in each small group. "So, going together isn't a way of socializing?"

"Not really, we just got group rates." He answered, "It's better for the kids if they stay with their parents and don't get used to the way other families behave. We'd appreciate if you come along again, if you'd bring only your children and keep them together. It's difficult to control children when they get out of line."

I shivered involuntarily.

He ascended the mountain side with my keys in his hand and I went back to gather up my tired crowd of kids, ranging in age from 2 to 15. Nine kids, and I hadn't even had to reprimand a one of them during the entire day. We'd had fun, enjoyed meeting new people, and learned a lot about nature from the trail guide, when he actually had an opportunity to speak to us.

Minutes later, settled into the van, everyone back in their seat, I looked over my group of children and wondered at the values we'd all shared that day. We'd come on this adventure with the expectations of making new friends, getting to know other home schoolers in the area and enjoying a lesson in nature. I realized I'd introduced myself to most of the adults and some of the kids, but only one had actually given me his name. I knew one of the women from the home school phone tree, but this was our first meeting. Mark, the gentleman who had introduced himself to me, had offered to get my van.

"Go ahead and get in line, I'll follow you home." Mark had pulled up beside me.

"I'm not going home. I'm meeting other parents in the city." I answered, "We'll catch up with you on the next outing?" I offered in response.

"I'll have Mattie call you." He rolled up his window and pulled into traffic.

I waited a bit, giving the kids a moment to settle into their seats, checked the tires, and got behind the wheel. As I pulled out of the parking lot I realized how fiercely independent I suddenly felt. My cell phone jingled and I answered it before I started the van.

"We just got done. Do you have time to meet us for pizza at Peter Pipers?" I asked my friend who home schooled her own teenaged boys.

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes." She laughed, "Sounds like a lot of fun."

"I think it will be." I pulled the van into traffic and listened to kids cheering about a stop for pizza. We arrived at about the same time as my friend. We ordered pizza, played games, and chattered loudly in a small corner of the pizza place.

I learned a lesson. Sometimes, being with the group doesn't mean you're socializing and it's not always okay to participate with a group of people you don't know well, even when you share an interest. I sent a nice thank you note, along with kids notes to the home school group for the outing. I never got another call from Mattie, and we never missed outings with that home school group. There were always other groups, other events, and happenings where it didn't matter that I was a single mom with a herd of little ones learning about life and loving every minute.

Mom, I Think The Rug Used to Be Red

Red is one of those kid friendly colors I always felt safe using as in home decor. It goes well with coolaide and Big Red soda pop. Seriously, there's not much you can do to red carpet that destroys the color.

When it came time to redecorate the bathroom a few months ago, the gold and white French decor had to go. Repainted with stark white walls, white cabinets and black and white pattern marble counters, black tub and toilet (I don't know WHERE the kids found these, but I liked them too) screamed for RED accents. You know, just a red rug, some red vases, red and black towels, maybe some red on the shower curtain. It worked, the bathroom is astounding.

The bathroom WAS astounding.

Not any more... The bathtub p-trap froze over night. We let the water run in the bathtub to keep the pipes from freezing. It seemed innocent enough. Then my son thought bleach would open up the pipes and let the clog drain through. It didn't work.

The tub overflowed and the red rugs got wet. The white tile is now pink. The red rug now has pink spots. I was just informed that REAL Boys don't use Pink Bathrooms.

Just wait until I toss those RED rugs in with their white shirts!