Pet dirt

I love the smell of dirt. Especially freshly turned dirt. My husband used to slather some earth scent all over himself when he went out bow hunting for deer and it was the next best thing to smelling freshly turned dirt.

A few months ago, my daughter, out of the blue, decided to build out of Legos this brown pile that she affectionately calls, "My Pet Dirt." In fact, she has a whole house built out of Legos for Dirt. Yesterday, she told me she was building her Dirt a blue Lego car, but it was a surprise, so Dirt hadn't seen it yet.

She later reported with a thumbs up that Dirt was very happy with the blue car.

If you've ever wondered how kids come up with the things they do and how much influence you have on what they think, I'm pretty sure that Dirt is a good indication, at least in my case.

I have mentioned to my kids more than once how much I love digging in the dirt and how good it smells. For my 8-year-old to translate that into a pet scenario makes perfect sense. And to be honest, it makes me proud.

Dawn

Artsy-fartsy

Every once in a while, I get all artsy-fartsy and attempt to photograph creatively. I admire people who can do this, and they are NOT artsy-fartsy. Only less-than adept photography wannabees are deemed artsy-fartsy.

Here are my entries for my most recent attack of artsy-farsty:

I call this Cosmos at sunset. (Hey, I may not be a photographer, but I get irony!)



















And this one is Study in Purple. I was struck by how well everything matched. (Is that silly?) It almost looked like I staged the shot, but the bicycle is right where my daughter left it earlier that day.

Happy snapping!

Dawn

Yard stick

How does this ash tree measure up?

My husband mentioned last week that he thought it should be replaced. Last night, I went out to look at the tree more closely, and ended up lying down at the base of the tree. It was probably a curious thing to do, but I was tired and the grass seemed pretty inviting.

I looked up at the tree and from an ant's view, it looked pretty darn good. Sure, there were some "sticks" up there, but the leaves below covered them up and if you squinted just right, it looked like a completely healthy tree. From an ant's view.

I got this tree -- let's call it Ashlee -- for Mother's Day several years ago. Ashlee was a bare-root tree who got plunked down into some God-awful clay soil. Ashlee has been through a lot -- ice storms, howling wind, unrelenting cold and an early spring which actually turned out be winter's 15-minute break before getting back to work.

So, if anything, Ashlee is a survivor.

Well, that's what I would like Ashlee to be. I just want buds to suddenly appear on all those sticks at the top.

I don't want to remove the tree, but if it is time, I guess it is time. I just want to be sure that it is time.

Should Ashlee the Ash Tree stay or go?

Tomorrow, a more upbeat, artsy post!

Dawn

Farm "seen"

Have you seen this farm "scene?" My daughter periodically draws pictures for me. She came to the office with me this afternoon, just for fun, and drew this picture. I'm so thrilled, I have to share!



Dawn

How did you spend the longest "day" of the year?

Yesterday was the first day of summer; the longest "day" of the year. How did you spend it?

Mine was quite an adventure.

It started at 3:30 a.m. Still dark, but really, not for much longer. I showered, got dressed, kissed my family good-bye (they were still sleeping) and headed out the door. I picked up a coworker at the office at 4:30 a.m. and we embarked on a trip to Devils Lake for a North Dakota Farm Bureau board meeting.

At approximately 4:52 a.m., a small heart palpitation occurs as I notice a deer standing on the shoulder of the road. The brakes get a work-out and I say a short prayer. Prayer answered. No collision.

Most of the rest of the 184.3 mile-trip is uneventful, save the last 35 miles. The rain comes down in sheets, and "Lead-foot" (that's me) is now down to about 35 miles an hour in places. I make the comment: "By gosh, we would have been on time if it wasn't for the rain."

We get to the meeting site three minutes late (meeting time, 7:15 a.m., arrival time, 7:18 a.m.). Much to our surprise, the parking lot is full of water. We find a dry spot and look up to see a string of meeting attendees who had been told to wait because the parking lot was full of water, now entering the parking lot.

"And it's not even 7:30 a.m.," I think to myself. The meeting gets underway, and by 9 a.m., I'm expecting it to be lunch time. Oofta! Guess I need some more coffee!

By 1:38 p.m. we are heading out the door and to the gas station to fill-'er-up. There is no rain on the return trip, but I brake for several birds. One comes out of nowhere and hits the windshield. No damage, but more heart palpitations.

We pull up to the office at 4:30 p.m., EXACTLY 12 hours from when we last visited this place. I call my family to tell them I will be home shortly.

There is still a lot of daylight left on this, the longest "day" of the year. We make the most of it.

Finally, about 11 p.m., after a quiet glass of wine on the front porch, I announce to my husband that, since I have been up since 3:30 a.m., I need to get to bed.

At 2:15 a.m. or so, the lightening and thunder and rain coming in buckets means our bedroom is now the gathering place for the dog, two kids and two stuffed animals. That's where they all are at 6 a.m. when I awake to the alarm.

How did you spend the longest "day" of the year? I hope it was an adventure for you, too!

Dawn

Headed for the compost heap

I took yesterday afternoon off from work because my son was attending a birthday party and my daughter wanted to do "something fun, too."

A friend had told her they had "free day" at the amusement park. So, we went to the amusement park. Turns out free was $15, because the free part of the day didn't actually start until 6 p.m. And it was 1:15 p.m. I paid the $15 and figured I would watch her ride some rides. She was having none of that wimpy stuff, so I sighed, "Okay, I will ride SOME of the rides with you."

I rode the bumper cars, the Ferris wheel and the roller coaster. After that, I made her ride the rest of the stuff by herself. I get a little queasy even writing about it!

What does this have to do with a compost heap? Truthfully? Absolutely nothing. It's just part of yesterday's story leading up to the part of the day when I found out about where all unsold flowers go.

See, after the amusement park, I told my daughter we needed to make a trip to the flower shop and get some dianthus to replace the "Oops, we got the overspray" ones languishing in not one, not two, but three flower beds. $30 and $30 worth of bonus bucks later, I was out of the flower shop and STILL had no dianthus to show for it.

Undaunted, we stopped at the "temporary outlet" shop in the supermarket parking lot. They had dianthus. And the very, very, very nice lady told me, as I prepared to buy three packs, "I'll just give you the other two. I'd rather see them planted than go to the compost heap."

The compost heap? Yep, they compost all the unsold flowers. I guess I never really thought about WHERE old flowers went to die.

Suddenly I was reminded of the truck with a back-end full of depotted plants that I saw a few weeks ago. It suddenly made sense.

I'm glad the dianthus made it home with me instead of ending up in the compost heap.

Now if it would just quit blowing 80 miles an hour, I'd plant them, and the other $60 worth of flowers that are NOT dianthus (and also not headed for the compost heap)!

Dawn

Here's an EYE-dea!

Bifocals for the computer screen!

Seriously.

Old people like me still need to see our computer screens, but bifocals -- the way they are currently made, anyway -- just don't work. If you too are old like me, you know what I mean. (And if you aren't, just wait! You'll find out soon enough!) You tilt your head back and look down your nose to get the computer screen to focus properly.

This just can't be good, can it? Sitting there, hour after hour, tilting your head back and looking down your nose not only makes you look snotty, it makes for a pretty stiff neck after awhile.

I'm complaining about it today because I'm wearing my glasses to work, my neck already hurts, and it's not even noon yet! Most of the time, I wear contacts, and that works great, because I put my "for distance" contact in my dominant eye and my "close-up" contact in my subservient eye and voila, I can look at my screen without my nose in the air. (When you're my age, you also have to worry about the long nose hair thing, so the lower you keep your nose, the better!)

This also works.






















But it looks pretty weird, and after you've worn it for about 10 minutes, it gets annoying!

So, if you are inventive and can think of a handy-dandy EYE-dea to solve this problem, you have my blessing to PLEASE run with it. All I ask is, when you've made a million dollars outfitting all us old folks who struggle with our bifocals at the computer, that I get a complimentary one.

Dawn

Flower power

The weather rocked yesterday. No wind. Sun. Warm, but not too warm, temperatures.

Did I mention no wind?

It was perfect for taking pictures of my flowers, so after I weeded a little, that's what I did. And of course, I have to share....

I call this one, "Karl and Di" (My Karl Foerster, which, by the way, was named Perennial Plant of the Year by the Perennial Plant Association back in 2001 is pictured with my favorite colored Dianthus, Sangria Splash.)





















If you look closely, you'll notice that some Yellow Woodsorrel weeds made it into the shot too! (Oops, guess we missed those!)

And here is one of the orange poppy plants that just started blooming, amidst a sea of daisies.

















And of course, my irises. I love all the vibrant greens and purples in this shot.






















Next? Well, my cosmos are starting to sprout up and even sprout flower buds, so they'll probably get their day in the blog pretty soon, too.

Dawn

What is a weed?

My children are helping me out by weeding one of my flower beds today. I checked on their progress and found that there were still many, many weeds that were not pulled.

The reason? They had no idea what was a flower and what was a weed.

I had to laugh. In a lot of cases, neither did I. Oh, I know the quack grass, the thistle and the kochia, so I pointed them all out. But when it came to the ones with little yellow flowers or the one that I realized was actually a poppy, I wasn't so sure if they should be pulled or left alone. And what's that old saying, "One man's weed is another man's flower?" Oh, that might not be quite right, but I think you get the point.

Last year, I tended to these very tall "wildflowers" for most of the summer before I decided that, whatever they were, they were weeds in this particular bed, and unceremoniously yanked them out. (Good thing the roots weren't nasty and long like the roots on on thistle!)

So far, I haven't seen any of those buggers in the bed yet, but they may still show up. There are also plenty of other curious little sprouts that could be weeds, but might be flowers.

So I don't know for sure what will be left when they are done, but to be honest, I'm okay with whatever is left. I'm just glad to have the help!

Dawn

PSA: Cups for the coffee klutz

It took me a while to accept the fact that I am a coffee klutz, but now that I have embraced my deficiency, I plan to do everything I can to cope with said deficiency in a postive manner.

For instance, after spilling an entire cup of coffee all over my desk and computer yesterday, I realized that the cup I was using was NOT a good choice for a coffee klutz. It is tall, and tapers toward the bottom. In other words, it is easily tipped. And I have tipped it SEVERAL times. Yesterday's tip, however, was the turning point. I realized that the design of my cup was exacerbating my coffee klutziness.

So I did a little inventory. Turns out there are a lot of cups out there that are not good for coffee klutzes, and if you too are a CK, please pay close attention to the photos below:

Bad choices for coffee klutzes:



















The ultimate good choice for a coffee klutz:
















Notice how it gets wider toward the bottom? This is a must. It even has a thin rubber gripping material (not pictured) on the bottom side of the cup, making this particular model virtually untippable, unless you really WANT to tip it.

This has been a Public Service Announcement from Coffee Klutzes of America!

(Okay, I just made that Coffee Klutzes of America thing up.)

Dawn

Some flowers for you

I spilled coffee all over my computer, my phone, my papers, my desk and even my jump drives. Fortunately, everything still seems to be working, although my phone smells a little like burned hazelnut (I had hazelnut creamer in my coffee). So today, I just wanted some flowers! And I thought I would share!


















Dawn

A hike up the hill

Yesterday, we celebrated my daughter's golden birthday by attempting to accomplish all the fun things she had on her Golden Birthday Things To Do list. And believe me, it was not an easy task, because the list was lengthy.

The only thing we didn't do was go swimming, but she agreed early in the day that maybe we wouldn't have time to do that and fit everything else in, so she said it was okay to "do that some other day." (That was FINE by me, because let's just say I'm not yet swimsuit ready. In fact, I may never be swimsuit ready again! I'm thinking more like a full-body control wetsuit or something!) But I digress!

We went a lot of places and did a lot of things, but the hike up the hill on a rock collecting journey proved to be a pretty fun flower discovery for me. You see, I have a wildflower bed and each year, I seed a few perennial and annual wildflowers into the mix. This year, I noticed these plants that looked like thistles, except they have huge "pods" on them. They reminded me of a poppy, but I had never seen a pod that big before.

Well, we got to the top of the hill on our rock collecting expedition and there in the slightly overgrown flower bed were these resplendent, HUGE orange flowers. "Oh MAN!" I hollered out loud as my kids looked at me in surprise. "I have these flowers in my wildflower bed! I will have flowers that look like this!"

Mine aren't blooming yet, but I found this www.fiskateers.com website that had a photo of one, so I'm sharing that picture link.

Pretty awesome, aren't they? I will definitely be taking some pictures of mine when they start to bloom.

After all the excitement, we sat on a bench at the top of the hill overlooking the city. "You can see everything from here," my son said.

I agreed, as I looked at a water tower and blue hills in the distance. It was a beautiful site.

And my poppy discovery? Icing on my little girl's golden birthday cake!!

Dawn

Purple haze

My son is a scout. So last night we were helping set up tents and obstacle courses for the 100th anniversary celebration. It was about 8:30 p.m. when we finally got done. We were both a little on the hungry side, since we hadn't had supper, so we made a trip to the local supermarket. Well, this supermarket had flowers out front and, since I can never actually pass up an opportunity to at least LOOK, I delayed shopping for supper a "wee little bit" as I checked out the selection.

I immediately fell in love with the profusion of purples that punctuated the place. (Ooh, what a smattering of inspired alliteration for a Friday afternoon, eh?)

While my patient son waited, I hemmed and hawed over how many purple daisies to buy. "Are they perennials?" I asked no one in particular. I decided I didn't care. I promptly purchased a purple daisy, two purple petunias, and a purple Calibrachoa. Even the check-out lady said, "Oh my, these look beautiful together!" And I agreed that they did.

Problem is, they won't be all together when they get planted. So for now, anyway, they are sitting together in a box on the front porch. They will be divided and planted, but before I spirit them away from each other, I will attempt to artfully photograph them all together so I always have the pure pleasure of previewing my plethora of purple plants.

Dawn

A dog's life

Our dog is three years old today. For his "birthday," he received those special dog treats that are supposed to taste like bacon. (I'm just gonna take their word for it on that one!)

Never mind that he gets a lot of people food treats -- my daughter's left-over sandwich, the bones from rack of ribs we barbecued -- on a regular basis. These treats were special, however. They weren't some one's cast-offs. They were purchased just for him.

It's appropriate that the dog should get food on his birthday, since we like to joke that he's a food opportunist. If Springer Spaniels are "food stealers," Riley the dog is "King of the Notorious Food Stealing Spaniels." If he has an opportunity, he will steal food right out of my daughter's hands or off the kitchen counter (just how far back does that loaf of bread have to be before he can't jump up and take a bite out of it?) And just the other week, my son set his bun down to tie his shoes, and Riley very swiftly and deftly came out of nowhere and grabbed the bun before either of us could react.

Nevertheless, because he's cute and cuddly and always ready to jump on your lap to get attention (which is actually not very comfortable since Springers aren't really lap dogs) he is always forgiven.

Okay, maybe "spoiled rotten" is more accurate.

He got a bath last night, but it wasn't because it is his birthday. He was incredibly smelly after rolling in poo at my mom and dad's farm, then running through several sloughs.

So, today, he gets the royal doggy treatment.


This is Riley, begging for food.


















Tomorrow is payback time; a trip to the vet and a shave!

Dawn