BLAME IT ON THE MOON

 Last week was not at good week.  Did you notice you haven't heard from me for a while ?  I was in a deep "funk" and could not pull myself out of it no matter what I did.  I did do a lot of talking to God and he did keep me from killing The Man or myself but that was about the best He could do.  I was NOT a nice person to be around.  Thankfully The Man was having his own emotional and physical problems so the two of us just danced around each other without much talking going on.  

The hour ride to and from his pulmonary therapy sessions on Tuesday and Thursday were exceptionally quiet.  On Tuesday while he was in therapy I walked around and around the parking lot of the small hospital where he goes for pulmonary rehab thinking I could walk off my mood. That did not work !  On Thursday I left him at therapy and I drove across the road to a small parking area on the shore of the lake. I considered walking into the water and not coming back out but the water was too cold so instead I walked around the beach and talked to the family of Canadian Geese who were wandering near by.  They were excellent listeners ! That must have been the beginning of my return to "normal" because I was feeling better yesterday and today I am fine and wondering what the Hell that was all about. My conclusion is that last week there was a full moon.  It was an amazing full moon, rising up out of the Eastern sky at about 11:15 at night looking bright orange and huge.  It was so big and bright that we both had to go out back to look at it.  Little did I realize at the time that it was also cursed and was shining its meanness rays of moon light right through my brain into my soul.  That's about the only explanation I have for the horrid mood we were both in.

But now, a week later all is right with the world and I can once again laugh at The Man and myself.   With that in mind let me fill you in on some of the silliness that has been going on around here but I just wasn't up to seeing the funny side of anything. 

The Man and I have been working on cleaning out more and more stuff and have now graduated to the big garage. Not that we have cleaned out all of the house . . . that will take another 12 years at least but for whatever reason The Man decided he wanted to go through stuff in the big garage. 

 Let me set the stage for you . . .   Garage #1 has a double size barn door on one side and a roll up garage door on the second side.  When both doors are opened there is usually a nice breeze blowing through so working out there is comfortable even on a hot day.  Inside in the middle of the garage sits a large 8' X 4' X 6' high trailer that will be pulled behind the RV when it goes up to Alaska.  The trailer holds stuff that The Man's son wants to take home to Alaska with him. Along all 4 sides of the inside of the garage there are shelves, work bench, cabinets, and boxes on boxes on boxes all full to overflowing with, you guessed it, STUFF !  Some of the stuff belonged to The Man's wife, (but not too much of it), some of the stuff belonged to The Man's mother-in-law, (who had a house that The Man and his wife emptied out when "M.I.L." died. Why they didn't throw out all the stuff is beyond me but it all came back to The Man's house and was stored in the 3 garages.  (The Man's M.I.L. was a hoarder . . . that is a confirmed fact. There are numerous items with the QVC "Authenticity papers" still with them. That does not make them any less "pieces of Junk". ) Some of the stuff in the garage are from The Man's daughter who has moved several times and each time deposits more and more stuff in The Man's garage. And some of the stuff is from The Man's granddaughter who had lived here for a while with her grandparents while her mother was away on a paid vacation from the state law enforcement.  (It's an interesting family to say the least.). 

With all these deposits from all these women you can only imagine what the garage must look like. So when The Man suggested we go through some of the stuff I was all in. I LOVE going through stuff and looking for treasures. (I would have made an awesome pirate!  Especially if Johnny Depp was on my ship!)  

But I digress . . .  We started working on the garage over 2 weeks ago but it is a slow process. The first day we tackled the garage The Man rode down to the building on his ride on mower with the oxygen tank in the little trailer in tow.  When he got to the garage I got the overhead door open and he sat in a folding chair just inside the door where he could supervise and inspect each and every box that I lifted up or down, dragged over to his chair and placed in front of him.  There he sat like King Midas counting his gold.  The conversations went something like this :

Me . . .  Here's the first box.

The Man . . .   What's in it ?

Me . . . I don't know!  Open it up and look!

The Man . . .  OH . . . 

Me . . . (in my head). DUH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From there is went on to him examining each item in the box and determining if it would go on a shelf for his grand daughter to look at when she comes to visit in mid August OR go into a box to bring to St. Vincent de Paul Society.  There is a garbage bag as a third option but VERY LITTLE went into that bag. The majority of the stuff is on a shelf for the G.D. to check out "for her new apartment".  

I have tried to get The Man to consider the outrageous possibility that his G.D. may not want 14 cooking pots from Germany or 72 cook books. (does anyone actually use cookbooks any more? I get all my recipes on line these days.), or a set of dishes that look like something your senile old grandmother got from her senile old grand mother. (The G.D. has already told The Man that she and her boyfriend are looking for some black and red dishes for their new place. She does NOT want flowers and butterflies even if the plate came from England. ) The St. Vinnie's box remains fairly empty and the garbage bag is almost totally empty. 

 So what have we been doing for the past 2 weeks . . .  ?  We have been moving stuff from one spot in the garage to another spot in the garage.  

And I wonder why I get frustrated and in a bad mood !!!!

THE MARKET PLACE

In case you are not familiar with Facebook Marketplace let me bring you up to speed.  There is this wonderful place on the internet that you can buy and sell just about ANYTHING at no cost to you. It's sort of like a flea market but you don't have to leave the comfort of your home.  All you have to do is log onto Facebook and find the little icon at the bottom of the page that says "Marketplace".  Click on that and you are good to go.

As I have mentioned many many times in my blogs, The Man has a shit load of shit.  Attic, bedrooms, living room, cellar, a large garage, a small garage and a storage room attached to the garages.  All of these spaces are packed to overflowing with stuff. There is no rhyme or reason to what is where or who it belongs to. Over the years various family members and possibly a few homeless people or fugitives from justice have stored their possessions on The Man's property in one of the many spaces. The Man has totally lost track of the owners of the crap if he ever knew from the start. 

Over the past 3 years of me spending time up here I have convinced The Man he can make some money AND get rid of a lot of useless stuff. This is where Facebook Marketplace comes in.  

At first we were googling local antique stores, pottery shops, craft clubs and such that are located in the area.  That was getting us no where fast.  Then my oldest and wisest child suggest Facebook marketplace. He and his wife have sold many items through the marketplace and he said it was fast, easy and safe.  Good-bye Craigs List . . .  hello Facebook ! 

The first time we posted anything it was sold in a matter of hours. Other items have taken longer but slowly and surely things are disappearing from the clutter that The Man calls home. So far this year we have sold 11 sheep skins, a load of pottery making items and a warping loom. (This last item is a HUGE wooden thing that weavers use to hold the "thread" they are using. It is a monstrous thing that stands about 7 feet tall and is at least 5 feet square. It can be taken apart so hopefully the woman from lower Michigan who bought it will be able to put it in her car and reassemble it when she gets home, ). The sheep skins were shipped to a lady in New Hampshire for a not too ridiculous amount of money and the pottery is going to a woman who will drive here tomorrow from a town just north of us. Hopefully she will bring a large vehicle because there is A LOT of pottery stuff!

Last year we sold several spinning wheels and spinning items to a woman who had her husband drive her 6 hours from a neighboring state.  That's how much people want these things.

With all this in mind I am now wondering if I can sell The Man on Facebook marketplace. 

I figure if all the stuff we have has sold so quickly I should be able to make a few bucks by selling him. Apparently the warrantee has run out on my purchase of him so I'd like to offer him to someone else who doesn't mind buying a previously owned item.  He is in fairly good condition, relatively speaking, and has at least a few more years on him.  Most of his parts are in working condition with the exception of his brain.  That seems to have deteriorated much quicker than the rest of him so I really think I need to get rid of him now before he totally falls apart on me. (I do NOT want to trade him in for a newer model thank you very much!)

 I can't offer any guaranties or warranties but I can give him a glowing recommendation. Who ever purchases him can probably expect him to cook and clean for about the first year until he gets used to his new home. Unfortunately as soon as he gets feeling comfortable in his new surroundings he will start to take things for granted and expect his owner to pick up all the slack. At first he will be quite talkative and will even listen to his new owner but that also wears off rather quickly. He loves ice cream, fast food burgers and hockey.  He does know how to cook if you have an electric stove. (Cooking on a gas stove while wearing oxygen is NOT recommended) He is an excellent driver who doesn't mind driving from Florida to Michigan and back each year.  

The down side of owning this particular model is . . . he is a MAN.  Right there anyone buying him should get a 50% discount. He has all the typical characteristics of the male population;  Knows everything, doesn't listen and thinks he is God's gift to the world,  just to mention a few.   

I'm still not sure how much I should ask for him but the price is getting lower by the day. If you are not in any hurry and things continue as they are going right now I will be more than willing to pay you to take him. 

THINGS I THINK ABOUT

If I could stop thinking about "stuff" at 3 AM I wouldn't be so tired but it just seems that my brain likes to go into hyperdrive once the sun goes down.  It's as if once the lights go out my brain clicks on just like those bathroom lights in restaurants. You know the ones where you open the bathroom door and look into a pitch black room. You start to wonder where the light switch can be so you start feeling around on the wall by the door figuring a switch should be somewhere close by.  When you can't find the switch you take that one step forward to advance your search and SUDDENLY the light comes on and scares the poop right out of you.  No more need to go further into the room because you have already done what you intended to do when you came to the restroom.  

THAT is what my brain does in the dark.  We shut out the bedroom light, turn off the TV and settle down in the dark to close our eyes and sleep but instead my brain POPS on and that is the end of sleep for me.  

I almost wrote this blog at 2:30 this morning because that was when I was wandering the house trying to get myself into sleep mode.  I thought I was tired when I went to bed but my brain had other thoughts in mind. Thoughts like:

Why does The Man feel the need to talk to me as I am leaving a room?  We can spend 7 hours together and not say 2 words to each other but the second I take a step into another room or around a corner he starts talking! Up to this point I have been polite and would turn around and return to where he is sitting but that ship has sailed and sunk! Now I just keep walking and mutter to myself. I can guarantee you that what ever he is saying isn't worth turning around for and if I am lucky he will totally forget what ever life shattering comment he was making by the time I do return to where he is. 

Thought #2 . . .  Why does The Man have to talk to me in the middle of the night when I get up to pee? We have spent an entire day and evening together. Plenty of time for chatting. I have managed to fall asleep so when I wake up in the middle of the night with the urge to empty my bladder I just want to wander into the bathroom, in the dark, and hopefully do my thing, return to bed and fall back to sleep without entirely waking up.  Unfortunately the reason I woke up in the first place was not because my body told me to but because The Man had just been up to pee and his moving around brought me out of a deep sleep. By the time I return to bed he is still awake and wants to have a discussion about what the weather will be in the morning or what we will have for dinner that night. I usually just mumble something and roll over but by then my brain is processing what ever The Man was talking about so I'm awake for the next 3 hours planning dinners and making shopping lists in my head. 

Thought #3  . . . Why is it that we focus on the people who do the least for us when we don't appreciate those people who are there for us ALL the time?  I have 3 children. Two of these children always check up on me and call. They go out of their way to make sure "mom" is OK and happy. Do I appreciate this? YES but I don't tell them that often enough. Instead which one of my kids is the one I focus on the most? Naturally it is the one who I hear from the least. Why ? It's like the grass that's always greener on the other side of the fence. The people who are with us all the time get the least amount of attention.  I am working on that one. 

Thought #4 . . .  Why did I buy a small chain saw last summer ?  I wish I could answer that but I can't. It is a question that I ponder in the wee hours of the morning and I have yet to find an answer, It seemed like a good idea at the time because there are bunches of old apple trees here on the farm that REALLY need to be pruned and trimmed. Those and the 2 lilac bushes need a lot of work so I guess I thought a small chain saw would be a good tool to have. That and the fact that BFF Jeanne has 3 chain saws of various sizes and her yard looks amazing so it made sense that I could do wonders with my chain saw.  NOT !  I am terrified of the damn thing. It is small but it just looks vicious to me and every time I pick it up I have visions of spurting blood and missing body parts.  Any one in the market for a 10 inch chain saw, never been used?

Thought #5 . . . .  Why do I feel that if the sun is shinning I should be outside?  It is beautiful up here in the summer and I love being outside but some days I just want to sit in a comfy chair INSIDE and read a book or play on the computer.  Today is one of those days.  It is so beautiful outside, 78 degrees, blue skies, breeze blowing but I just want to sit in the recliner and write. Working on the computer outside is difficult because I can't see the screen unless I sit in the shade and it is chilly in the shade.  Plus the flies like to bite in the shade. So instead I am sitting here in the beautiful parlor feeling guilty that I am not outside. I am justifying being in doors by telling myself I will be outside when I go to mass later this afternoon. But I am still feeling like I am missing an opportunity to enjoy this most amazing day. 

Thought #6 . . . Why do I write all this nonsense ?  But more importantly . . .  Why do YOU waste your time reading it ?????   You should be outside enjoying Gods beautiful world not staring at some computer screen !!!

THEY SHOULD SEE ME NOW

I just spent the most wonderful weekend of my life with 4 of my favorite people in the whole wide world. And I lived to tell about it. That sounds a lot more dramatic than it actually is but for any one out there who is a grand parent I am sure you can relate.

My daughter and her family live about 2 miles away from me in Florida.  I LOVE that !  And from what they tell me all the time, they love it also.  We see each other often enough and easily enough to enjoy each others company without disrupting each others lives or becoming a "burden". My amazing daughter is third generation "stay at home mom" and she blows her grandmother and me out of the water with how well she manages her life.  Like my mom and I Keri does it all . . . a balance of wife,  mother,  home maker,  church, school and Girl Scout volunteer, chauffeur, cook and cleaning lady.  She does it all and still manages to look awesome.  I am super proud of her !!  I LOVE spending time with her and her husband and best of all my two amazing and fun grand kids. These 2 kids are being raised by 2 amazing parents who set a great example for their children.  They give me hope that our world is not headed for destruction.  

ANY WAY . . . ..     For the past 4 summers Keri and family have flown to a city some place in the USA where they rented an RV for a couple of weeks. The first summer they toured the area in and around Mount Rushmore.  HAD A BLAST !  The second year they spent touring Yellowstone NP and surrounding areas.HAD A BLAST ! Last year they did the Great Smokey Mountains and Nashville where they HAD A BLAST and this year they came to the most exciting place the USA has to offer . . . . The UP of Michigan which has blown all previous destinations OUT OF THE WATER !!!!!

The fact that we can now be considered one of the greatest tourist destinations in America is quite an accomplishment !  The Man and I were told that this was the BEST camp ground the family has ever stayed at !!!  And I must say I agree.     Even though the weekend almost killed me and The Man.

Our weekend guests left Florida about 2 weeks ago and flew to Chicago where they picked up their rented RV, (a MASSIVE monster that I do not think should be considered camping. This thing was bigger than my first home! My kids grew up camping across the United States in a pop up trailer so a 33 foot motor home should not be classified as "camping". I'm just saying . . . ). My daughter and family left Chicago and headed North West to Wisconsin Dells for the 4th of July weekend. Then further North to spend a couple of days with friends of theirs who have a home on a small lake some where just south of Lake Superior. From the small lake they continued North to the Apostle Islands off the shore of Lake Superior and then they turned East onto the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and headed toward scenic Gladstone, MI on the shore of Lake Michigan to spend the weekend with me and The Man.  

I was so excited to bring them here so I could show them where I spend my summer. (The only person more excited than me was Finn, my 10 year old grandson.) Finn and family arrived here just before 11:00 PM on Thursday evening. Because we are so far north and almost in Central Time Zone it was actually still light enough to get them parked out in the yard and set up for the night without stumbling around in the pitch black that you can only find way out here in the country.  Everyone was tired so we all crashed for the night with promises of seeing it all the next morning.  I woke up at 8:30 AM fully expecting Finn to be sitting at the foot of my bed waiting for me to get up but I think I actually woke up before him.  (Finn is our early bird who is ALWAYS up by 7:00 AM but on Friday morning he slept until 9:00 !!!!!!  Around 8:45 I went out to sit in the yard so anyone who woke up early would know grandma was awake. Sure enough I wasn't out there more than 20 minutes when Finn came bouncing out of the RV, running across the lawn, to give me the HUGEST hug I have ever gotten.  (I think we missed each other something awful. It has been over 2 months since we saw each other.)  And that was the beginning of 3 awesome days!

We were up "early", (by my standards), all 3 days.  BIG country breakfast in the house each morning with home made pancakes dripping in maple syrup that came from the maple trees growing across the road. The bacon came from a pig that was butchered next door. Finn and Kae, (Finn's 13 year old sister who I adore), got into country living like they were born here.  They spend 2 full days running around the "farm" helping feed the deer, mow the grass, gather firewood for out bonfires each night. Gus, our neighbor boy, came over on his four wheeler and took Finn and Kae for rides around the property, even letting them drive. (Thankfully no one drove into the pond!) On Friday night we invited 2 of The Man's brothers and their wives over for a BBQ of tenderloin steaks that were also butchered fresh by one of the neighbors.  (OMG is all I can say about that !  The only steaks that were better than those were Moose steaks that we had in Alaska straight off a moose that The Man's son had just shot.)

We took a break on Friday to drive 5 minutes into Gladstone where we played on the amazing playground that is right there on the shore of the lake. We had a picnic lunch and "swam" in Lake Michigan until every one turned blue from the COLD water. (We are Florida people who are used to warm ocean water. This lake water needs to be heated up about 40 degrees!) On the way home we took three seconds to drive down Main Street Gladstone where everyone was told not to blink or they would miss it. 

On Saturday we took a really BIG trip into neighboring Escanaba, 8 miles away.  Keri wanted to do some grocery shopping to restock their RV and Kae and Finn wanted to go to the candy store where I always buy them chocolate to send or bring home to them.  We took thirty seconds to drive down Main Street Escanaba to the lake front to see the light house and park that is down there.  Then it was back home to more discovery of the farm.  

Both Friday and Saturday nights we stayed up until after 11:00 sitting around the fire trying to get warm. It got COLD all three nights, temperatures in the 40's so the fire was a wonderful idea. As soon as it got dark both nights we shot off fireworks over the back field. (When you live in the country you can shoot off fireworks any time you want and no one cares. In fact we even had one of the neighbors drive into the field next to ours so they could sit on the hood of their car and watch our show.)

Bottom line . . .   we had a FABULOUS, AMAZING, WONDERFUL time together and I kept up with it all. When we were on the playground on Friday I was riding up and down with Finn on the see saw. (Bet you haven't seen one of those in ages!) Grand daughter, Kaelin came walking over and stood there staring at me and Finn. After a minute or two she said to me, "It's times like this that I can't believe you, (meaning me), are 5 years OLDER than Grannie". (Grannie is my son-in-law's mother who lives in NC)  Kae they proceeded to tell me how when they visited Grannie last December Grannie did nothing but sit in her chair all day.  I took this to be the best compliment I could EVER get !

Thankfully my wonderful family left yesterday afternoon so they did not see me literally crawl into bed at EIGHT O'CLOCK last night only to collapse on top of the heating pad in a whimpering ball of Ben Gay. I was asleep by 10:00 PM and never moved all night.  

I think I am alive today but I expect I will be taking a long nap in about an hour.  

LAWN MOWER 500

Now that the Indie 500 has been run for the year it is now that time of the summer for the Gladstone, MI Lawn Mower 500.  It is in full swing, nearing its 12 thousandth lap and there is yet to be a winner.  This could go on for hours if someone doesn't run out of gas or oil soon. In this particular race there is no need for tire rotation and rarely is there ever a smash up but that could just happen if the two drivers start to loose focus. 

On mower #1 we have Gus, the neighbor boy from down the road.  Gus arrived here a couple of hours ago and started the race driving "Old Orange". Old Orange belongs to The Man but he gave Gus permission to use it in order to get the lawn mowed as quickly as possible.  The Man did not see the error of this action until it was too late and Old Orange ran out of gas AND oil both at the same time.  Naturally, being The Man, these problems were a direct result of the driver and not the owner.  The fact that Old Orange is about a bazillion years old does not enter into this equation. Old Orange has been owned and operated by only one person and that person treats his lawn mower better than a lover would treat his woman. The Man rides Old Orange all around the property just to get around. He will ride Old Orange out to the mail box or out to the road to put out the garbage.  He and Old Orange are inseparable. 

Up until this year The Man did a lot of the mowing but it really is getting to be too much of an effort for him so we have hired a couple of neighbor kids to do the job. Last week Tanner came over on his dad's high tech "zero turn" mower and whipped through the yard in a matter of a couple of hours.  This week Tanner was away so Gus got the job of "Lawn Boy". Gus arrived this morning around noon and hopped on Old Orange. (Gus and The Man had discussed this a couple of days ago so the mower was gassed up and ready to go). The entire time Gus was moving The Man was muttering that Gus was going too fast.  He wasn't cutting it right. Tanner did a better job.   An hour and a half into mowing Old Orange ran out of gas.  (Mutter Mutter Mutter!) The Man was not happy.  Gus filled the tank and continued his mowing. As he was racing back and forth, up and down The Man kept noting different sounds that he was hearing. "Something is wrong", said The Man. And sure enough a couple of minutes later Old Orange died! This was as much of a crisis as if Old Orange had blown up into a thousand pieces.  Gus determined the mower needed oil so out to the garage he and I went to find some oil leaving The Man to continue his muttering about Gus driving too fast.   That, of course, was why the motor burned all the oil.  Even with the oil added Old Orange just didn't sound right so being the smart boy that Gus is he went home and got his dads mower, Big Red, and continued to work on the yard.  

By now The Man was up to a thousand thinking that someone had harmed his precious mower.  Naturally he had to grab his oxygen tank and hoses and head out into the yard to work on Old Orange.  I swear The Man and Old Orange are in love with each other because after only a matter of seconds Old Orange was purring like a kitten and The Man was happier than a pig in poop. 

And so began the Mower 500 !!!

Gus was still whipping around trees and shrubs doing figure eights on Big Red while The Man puttered along on Old Orange making nice straight and orderly lines of mowed grass. It was quite comical to watch. 

In the end the law is mowed, sort of. You would think that with the two manly men working on this project it would be done to perfection.  NOT !!  After  4 hours of mowing Gus left and The Man went into the house to take a nap.  That was my chance to get out the weed whacker and finish up all the spots that the two boys had missed.  

You have got to love these macho men !

WHY NOW ?

 I have known The Man for five and a half years.  During that time I have visited and then resided in his home here in Michigan and for all that time the house and yard have been over run with stuff.  In the house it is household and clothing and outside it is WEEDS.  Let's face it, the place needed a woman to try to get it under some control. 

I have told you how I respected The Man's space and held off for three and a half years before attempting to make any headway in the house and garden.  I understand this is "his" space and I respect that. But if we are going to keep this relationship going he has to understand that I NEED to feel welcome here. 

Last summer was ROUGH !!!   I didn't expect to be here all those months without seeing my kids and I guess The Man understood that so he "allowed" me to clean out a closet or two. ALWAYS under his very careful scrutiny so that I didn't throw out a precious family heirloom such as one winter glove with moth holes in it or even one of the twelve dozen spatulas in the kitchen that are so old the plastic is disintegrating and sticky. (You know how long it takes for plastic to decompose so when I say these things have been here a while you know I am not kidding.) Once a closet was cleaned out I was allowed to use it to hang up my clothes but even then my clothing must share their space with two folding snack tables that we NEVER use and a LARGE plastic garbage bag FILLED with old baseball caps.  These hats are apparently headed for the baseball/football/hockey museums because they MUST remain on the top shelf of "my" closet.  Are there 42 other closets where they could be stored? Of course! But it is in my space they stay. (I pick my battles!)

Upon arriving in MI this year I decided that I was going to attack some of the kitchen drawers and under the sink. We have been here two full months already and I have managed to clean out and reorganize 2 of the 7 kitchen drawers.  A couple of days ago I cleaned out the cabinet under the kitchen sink while The Man was taking a nap.  He will never know because he never goes into the working area of the kitchen. 

All this brings me to today's blog.    When you enter the back door to The Man's house, (No one ever uses the front door. This is apparently a "country" thing), you step into a small space about 9' X 9'. There is a short flight of stairs leading down into the cellar and a short flight of stairs leading up to the door into the house. I'm not sure what you would call this space. Probably the modern term would be "the mud" room, but here it is just called "the space at the bottom of the stairs by the back door". In this small area there are 2 HUGE cabinets hanging on one wall. The latch on their doors is too high for me to reach without standing on my tip toes. They are probably 4 1/2' tall and 4' wide. Their 4 shelves are filled with cans of paint, and other "manly" items. None of which I have EVER seen The Man use. But they are off limits and quite honestly I wouldn't touch them with a ten foot pole. Literally! In this room there is also a floor to ceiling pantry size cabinet that up until last year was filled with baking pans and other baking paraphernalia.  All of which The Man allowed me to move onto shelves in the basement so his son could look through it to take what he wants. (That was my idea for getting all the excess baking and cooking stuff gathered together in one spot. Worked like a charm!) 

So with the "pantry" closet emptied out, (sort of), I was able to talk The Man into putting all our garden tools in there.  The property is bursting with garden tools like rakes, shovels, clippers, saws and just about anything else you can imagine.  These things are scattered between the garage, the shed, the milk house and the lean to. ALL of these tools are either rusted or broken so that the majority of them are not useable. I am slowly collecting some garden tools that work.  I suggested to The Man that he keep his tools in the "pantry" closet  so they will be handy if and when he needs them.  So far all that he has put in there is a small black duffle bag containing 7 hammers, 4 pliers and about 14 screw drivers. All of which The Man has not used since I have known him.  But he likes that he has his tools handy just in case. (The garage is a separate building that stands a distance away from the house. Being on oxygen The Man can't get to the garage unless he rides his mower or car down to it. Both those vehicles are parked just outside the back door. )

OK . . .  so now we have the space at the bottom of the stairs sort of organized. The two items that do not fit into either cabinet are the leaf blower and the weed whacker.  Bot of these items I use at least 3 times a week. They both stand in the far corner of the room and are not in the way of anything.  Now The Man's six oxygen tanks, bag of charcoal, (unopened and un used in 4 years), and his 4 cooler chests that have never made it to the garage, (because we may need them), THOSE things ARE in the way of just about everything.  I have to climb over them to open the window in that room, plug in the battery charges for the weed whacker, or get to my closet where my gardening things are stored. (I have a small cardboard box containing 2 pairs of garden gloves, a scissor, a ball of twine and a pruning tool that I bought at the dollar store. ) 

Tonight The Man announced that "WE" needed to put the garden tools in the garage so the space at the bottom of the stairs will look nice for when my daughter and family stop by next weekend. (They are touring Wisconsin and Michigan for 3 weeks and will stay here for a weekend parked in their rented RV out in the yard.) I know for a fact Keri will NOT even notice the weed whacker nor would she care if she did see it.  This is a farm, you're supposed to have stuff like that laying around. Right?  

Next on the list of things pissing me off tonight is the fact that because this is not my home I do not have "my Stuff" to preoccupy me. At my home I can find endless sources of entertainment for myself but here I am on "his" turf.  In order to keep my sanity, (that train may have left the station some time ago), I am enjoying gardening.  Over the past couple of years I have weeded and cleaned out the foot and a half wide space lining the back patio. I have pruned the good stuff growing there and added some solar lights that The Man found in some closet. There is a small pink flamingo and 3 Shepards crooks holding 5 different bird feeders. This is my little space to "putter" in.  This year I added a tomato plant in an old rusty lobster pot and a plastic under bed storage box that I filled with dirt from the field. I had brought some flower seeds with me that I had gotten in the mail before we left Florida and they are now growing nicely in my make shift "window box" that sits on the top of the cement stairs that go into the parlor.  That sliding glass door and steps are NEVER used so it was the perfect place to plant a "garden" 

I have been having a great deal of fun tending this space and The Man has been very tolerant of me up until tonight.  

Two days ago we were in the cellar cleaning out more stuff, as I told you in a previous blog. While going through the pottery stuff "WE" found a small ceramic sign for the garden, two small wrought iron fences, (about 2' high and 8 " wide), and 2 wrought iron holders for small flower pots.  I KNEW they were going to be trouble but I had to try. 

This evening I brought those 5 items up from the cellar and out onto the table on the patio so that I could size them up and decide where I wanted to put them in the garden if, indeed, I wanted to put them anywhere.  If it was going to be too much they were going back into the cellar from where they came. That at least was my plan until The Man came out and took one look at the things on the table and said, "What Now? What are you going to do with that stuff?"  All this being said with an attitude and a roll of his eyes.  

I get it !  I am moving too fast for him right now so I will have to put the stuff back in the cellar and not start any new projects for a couple of weeks at least.  In the mean time I will use this blog to keep from killing The Man when all I really want to do is take him by the throat and say, "Shut the 'F' up and let me have some fun". 

Side note . . .  I am sitting here on the patio in back of the house enjoying the cool evening breeze and here comes one of our 4 legged friends trotting across the field to munch on the corn I put out for them every night. This one little deer is ALWAYS the first to show up each evening. He is standing about 50 feet away from me and not the least bit concerned by my presence.  

I'm sure he thinks my garden is awesome !

A BLOG IN THE MAKING

I would like to start off by saying 'THANKS!" to Carol and Sharon who encourage me to continue with my written nonsense.  I think of these two women when ever I am in the midst of a blog in the making. I chuckle to myself thinking how much they, and the rest of you, will enjoy the latest ridiculous situation I find myself in. And that encourages me to write about it rather than go screaming off into the sunset.  

Take this morning for instance . . . It is HOT here in the UP today. Not Florida hot but hot for this part of the country.  It's 72 degrees . . .   NO, just kidding, it's actually going to be in the 90's today but in the shade with the cool breeze off Lake Michigan it is just glorious. The Man is one of those people who decide they are hot or cold by looking at what the thermometer says or what the TV weather man tells them rather than sticking their head out the door.  In spite of the fact that he was told it was going to be HOT today The Man got up and put on jeans and a long sleeve flannel shirt.  Don't ask !  I just roll with it. Because it was going to be so hot The Man decided it would be the perfect day to go down into the cellar and sort through some pottery making supplies that fill almost a third of that space.  Along with bead work, weaving and spinning, cooking and baking The Man's wife was a master potter. I'm talking taking raw clay and making it into some absolutely beautiful pottery. She had her own potter's wheels and kiln along with a multitude of other necessary items to create such works of art.  All this is stored in the cellar on metal shelves collecting dust.  

Each year that I am with The Man he is loosing up a little and letting go of some of the craft items and supplies. Two years ago I got him to let me post some weaving items on Facebook Market Place and he realized he could make some nice money from all this stuff that is just laying around. Last year we sold   more weaving and spinning items and this year he is letting go of all the pottery stuff.  I have squirreled away some of the small pots and bowls that Freddie, his wife,  had made so that I can share them with my friends.  These things are just too beautiful not to share.  (This past Christmas I gave Jeanne a bowl that Freddie had made and Jeanne actually cried. You just don't get that kind of reaction from a plastic bowl from the dollar store.)

So there we were at 10:30 this steamy Michigan morning digging through shelves of dusty boxes in the cool damp cellar.  Working with The Man is always an adventure. The Man is easily distracted these days, I think perhaps because of his reduced oxygen levels.( I would hope this was not the case when he was flying helicopters for the Army.) 

As per my instructions this morning I was armed with a large pad of paper and a pen so that I could take inventory of what we found. I also had my phone to take pictures of each batch of items so that when we post the stuff we can accompany the items description with a photo. This process has served us well in getting rid of lots of things so I hope it works with the pottery.  We spent over an hour digging through things, writing descriptions and taking pictures with constant gentle reminders to stay focused. (I was doing all the writing, photographing and reminding while The Man wandered from shelf to shelf discovering long lost screw drivers and dried up cans of paint.) It was a delightful morning in spite of how it sounds so when we finally decided to quit for the day we came to sit outside in the shade for a few moments to warm up and breathe some fresh air.  

It was at this point that The Man said, "Don't post any of this on Facebook yet. I'll see if maybe someone I know would like this stuff. They can come out here and take a look at what we have".  

HELLOOOOOOOOOOO. . . . .  Did I not just spend the entire morning writing down and photographing all this crap for the soul purpose of posting it to sell ?????????  Oh My !  Deep Breaths Cath . . . 

But it does not end there.  As I sat doing my deep breathing The Man suggested we now go out into the parlor to see if there was any pottery out there.  (I knew for a fact we had already gone through that room but hey, who am I to question the lord and master of the domaine.) As soon as we walked into the parlor The Man focussed in on three LARGE garbage bags sitting on the treadmill. (What else would one use a treadmill for?) He asked what was in the bags and I told him two were filled with yarn and one had clothes in it.  Not to EVER just accept what I tell him, (and rightfully so because I do keep some things "quiet"), The Man needed to look in each of the yarn bags, item by item to make sure it was "just" yarn. Once done with the yarn he had me take out EVERY item of clothing from bag #3. EVERYTHING in the bag belonged to The Man and he just couldn't figure out why his clothes were in this bag. I reminded him that we had gone through his closet and dresser last year and HE had put these clothes in the bag with the intention of donating them to St. Vincent de Paul. He looked at me as if I had lost my mind and was lying to him.  (Once again . . . "patience" . . . ) The Man then proceeded to take several items out of the donation bag so he could return them to his closet. One of the items being his old Army dress uniform pants that he will NEVER fit into again. My thought was that maybe he will want to be buried in them but then he doesn't want a viewing or anything, just cremation, so who knows.  

There were many many times during this mornings adventures that I thought, "This is a blog in the making". And so here I am, sitting outside under my favorite tree writing and shaking my head while The Man takes his afternoon siesta.  It is exhausting keeping me in line and getting me to do all these tasks just the right way.  Life is tough !