At least I was able to rush into play practice last night and say, “Sorry I’m late! I forgot my briefcase….IN MY OFFICE!!”
Yes, fans, it has finally happened. I got the office I have been petitioning for, AND recognition as Employee of the Month!
Take a video tour here!
Thanks everyone for making it happen! Lois finally caved in and did what her heart told her was right. I don't even care that she is in denial about her motives. (She thinks she meant it as a prank, but I know that deep deep down she wanted to recognize my outstanding efforts!)
Visitors to the farm are usually surprised to learn that we water the entire garden and landscape with reclaimed rain water. Our system, which collects and stores rainwater from our barn's metal roof, provides 100% of our annual watering needs. The best part, it was extremely easy to install, and can be inexpensively adapted to almost any home, shed or roof with a gutter.
Another proud parent moment–the Middle Spawn (AKA youngest Pajari Girl) is blogging!! And the title of her blog is… Musings of an Intellectual Badass. Because we Pajari Girls are the perfect blend of brains and brass.
A self-proclaiming LOTR nerd, her post on Lord of the Rings memes is bahahaha funny. Go say hi, and tell her that her mother sent you. Loveyabye!
Here in northern MN, bitching about the weather and the 9-month-long winter is a sport, a hobby, a point of pride, and a way of life. It wasn’t really working for me, though. I have found that hating things I have no control over hurts me a lot more than the thing I am hating. It doesn’t mean I long for -40F in July–I just try to spend less energy on stuff I can’t change and more energy on the stuff I CAN. So I’m trying to
hate it less. Prozac also helps. And a tanning bed. But I digress.
These are my favorite shots (so far) of frost this winter. They are of hoar frost on the Norway Pines and a couple windows in my house, taken on two different days. This lovely wiki article explains the different types of frost. “Hoar” -yes, pronounced just like “whore”…haha.- comes from an Old English word meaning “looks old”. I can hear the Spawn yelling “Nerd Alert!!” already. Whatever.
The window pics were taken during our week-long Get Inked with the Pajari Girls Tattoo Party when it was -30F and colder. (We felt sorry for the Texan tattoo artist who had never been Up North, but he seemed to man up pretty well. Still working on THAT post.)
The outside pics were taken on a much warmer day. Good thing, too, or I wouldn’t have been outside to hear the cow bell on the Ginormous White Slobbering Dog Who Thinks the Gravel Pit is the Pyrenees Mountains telling the neighbors they are trespassing in their own yard. This is far outside his approved boundary, but he does not agree.
Click on any pic to start a slideshow. (They are better full-screen.)
Another cool slideshow of winter can be found here: Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate. I took those next door at my sister’s house-The Funny Farm- aka our Great Grandparents’ homestead.
As usual, if you found this post amusing, helpful, disturbing , inspiring, or not a total waste of your time, please Like, Share, Comment or Pin this
shit stuff. If you are raising your hand ‘cuz you fell behind, click the button to Follow Via E-mail. Then you won’t miss anything. These things let me know what you think is worth reading/writing about. Thanks!! Loveyabye.
I first found this old jar full of rose petals several years ago, while cleaning out my grandparents’ basement. I vaguely remember placing it on the shelf between the two giant sets of doors that Grampa Ralph drove his school bus through.
A few months ago, I stumbled across it again. Mr. Wonderful and I tackled the basement last fall, and somehow, this didn’t get thrown away, even though the glass jar had at some point fallen from the shelf and broken. The light from the naked bulb in the 10-foot ceiling was just enough to make out a handwritten note in pencil taped to the jar.
I brought the jar up the steep steps (hand-hewn by Grampa Ralph I assume), to the sunny living room corner windows.
The note reads: “Petals from the boquet of Red Roses Ralph gave me one Mother’s Day. M.P.”
Ever thrifty, the note was written on a piece of scratch paper.
If you liked this post, you might also enjoy Grampa Ralph (More Treasures)