Stellar Parenting

I saw a cartoon recently of a woman in an employment office being told about a great job. It was kind of thankless, she'd receive no pay, would be on call 24 hours a day, and would get one day off a year, but actually would have to work that day.

And so, so many of us thought that sounded like such a deal. :)

Exactly one week late: Happy Mother's Day! 
(Especially to my Mother and my Mother-in-Law.)

The girls and I rode our bikes to Ilona and Michel's place, to bring in the mail; they'll be back from France in a couple of weeks. It was a glorious day and I only had to show houses once in the morning and once later in the afternoon. (Guess the employment office did warn that we'd have to work on our day off!) Oh well. Nicolas returned from California by cocktail hour. Perfect timing.

Between our home and the in-laws', we pass a garden with an ever-changing set-up of chairs. During the Olympics, the owners had colored hula-hoops on the chairs; on July 4th, stars and stripes; when the World Cup was being battled, soccer balls, etc. On this day, there were Mama chairs and Baby chairs. Pretty cute.

Not as cute as these guys though! The five little eggs right by our front door have hatched into bald little balls of grey. Their beaks open searchingly and both parents spend all day scavenging for food. They've grown exponentially, their eyes are opening and they're starting to spread their wings already.

So glad it takes a little longer than that for humans. Even if, sometimes, just occasionally, I might envy the lightspeed timeline of those Stellar Jay parents.

Not often though.


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Hey, check it out. This cartoon was in the paper this morning (May 20th):

   

The Things We Do

I was excited for Acacia, I swear. A new challenge and adventure in her life. But as we drove the six and a half hours each way to Denver for her gymnastics meet, I did at one point calculate how long her total performance was going to be in comparison. I think the grand sum was four minutes. Maybe six.

(I've never added a video before. Hopefully this works.)

She ended up placing 4th on beam, 3rd on floor, 1st on vault, 1st on bars, and 2nd all 'round. Admittedly, the competition wasn't too steep, but it was perfect for a first competition.

I can tell you exactly how long we drove, and how much we paid for gas and accommodations, etc. But what she gained in confidence was, as they say, priceless.

Pretty cool stuff.

   

Disaster Area

"Hi Satcho!" Sometimes I still call it out when I come home and I know no one's home, because it just feels wrong not to.

It's empty around here, even with all the wood and dust and tiles and appliance parts all over the house. We're in the middle of a small remodel that's created a big mess.

Who knew replacing an oven was so involved?

First... we took out the 25 year old electric oven, shattering the glass that once covered the front (I cooked a meal on it when it was out like this). It's being replaced by a gas cook top and electric wall oven, so this meant Nick first had to build a new counter edge to make a rectangle (previously it was a "U" that the oven slipped into) to drop the stove into, and to frame the future new cabinets under it.

Then, to put the new oven in the wall, we needed some more space, so we knocked out the brick wall behind the wood stove to move it toward the living room (and open up the kitchen space), and then, because you wouldn't have a wood stove next to a fireplace, we ripped out the fireplace that Nick has always hated. That took some Kim-convincing because we could've made that fireplace nicer, but I love the wood stove, so it won.

 Cook top in and running, but still need cabinets underneath; oven in the wall but still working on the microwave space and a new door; and of course, now we need a new platform for the wood stove.

Nick got the dry wall up today, the pendant was yesterday's challenge and we're working on the new counter and cabinetry.

All to get rid of a stinky old stove.

After 15 years, I've learned that when my husband says, "You know, I've been thinking..." to tell him to hold on a sec - while I pour myself a drink.

   

October 26, 2000 - April 11, 2013

So Long, and Thanks for all the Slobber

They say after a time, dogs and their owners start to resemble each other. Nine years ago they gave Satcho 2-4 months to live. Four months ago a tumor in his mouth gave him a few weeks. But Satcho did things in his own time. Just like Nick.

I knew something was wrong when  he didn't want a "Tina Treat " - his favorite snacks homemade by Tina Cavaco, a high school friend. He'd decided it was time. He stopped eating and drinking three days ago, and his canine buds Tyson (Petra & Uwe) and Buddy (Jeanette) came over last night to say goodbye. Jozi would've completed the Fearsome Foursome, but in a horrific turn of events, she died of bone cancer last Monday. It hurts so much because we love them so much.

After a wonderfully summery warm spell, winter made a surprise reappearance yesterday. Just for him. He hadn't been able to walk in a couple of days, so Nick carried him outside this afternoon to lie in the snow, his favorite place to be (preferably in the shade).

A bit later we went outside to scratch his head and neck, and he was gone. I mean, his body had disappeared, not his spirit yet. And there he was, on the other side of the house, on a dwindling patch of snow. He even picked where he would leave us.

Melting his final snow patch

The vet came at 4pm. What a long, long day. Satcho lifted his head off the snow, looked at all of us, then laid his chin on my hands and started to snore. The vet was barely done pulling out the needle when his head became heavy, his jowls wrapped around my palms and that was it. No struggle or resistance, no shudder or exhale. He just went to sleep.

What a magnificent being he was. A dozen years ago as Nick and I sat in a Mexican restaurant in Cortez, having just met the whole litter of beyond-cute furballs, we could never have known what a good match this puppy would be for our family. What an incredible mountain climber he was, three-legged or four-. How protective of his future sisters. How much his calm demeanor would mirror Nick's, and with what bravery he would accept the amputation of an important body part. Neither Nick nor Satcho let that come between them and doing great things.

Cayenne's first day.

Acacia and Satcho on his last night

Satcho was one cool ass dog.

I love you, you loyal, faithful, character-of-steel, self-cleaning Slobberpuss.

Fakesgiving Fun

The heft of the 9mm pistol in my hands took me by surprise. But it was the kickback that threw me.

"Holy shit!"

Of all the glorious words in the English language, that's all that came out of my mouth after firing. I didn't hit the tin can and probably missed the whole target--I couldn't tell--and didn't hit it the second time either. But Nick did. Knocked two cans off a little ledge.

We were at the Luthy's place for Fakesgiving, a full harvest meal with all the trimmings between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Erika had gotten a free turkey for spending 100 bucks at Albertson's, so they thought, "What the hey? Let's have Fakesgiving! Everyone come over!" That's what I love about the Luthys.

The food was flowing, the kids were jumping on the tramp or zip-lining from the tree house, and the adults were shooting at tin cans. It was fun, relaxing, and very American.

But unfortunately, so was the horror at Sandy Hook Elementary a few days later. That's becoming American too. It's not just target practice and hunting and self-defense anymore.

Those parents dropped off their children at school without a whisper of fear, because for the most part, that's how it is in suburban America.We live fairly free, but that freedom is created through laws and regulation. Anyone who's spent time in a lawless part of the world, knows there's nothing free about it. The first thing that goes up is bars on the windows - the same bars that will trap you in a fire.

You know where this conversation is going, but I'm not suggesting outlawing guns. No one is - even though the NRA would have people believe otherwise. I just think you don't need a bullet-spraying machine gun to take down a deer. Actually, from what I understand, that ruins the meat anyway. You don't need an assault rifle for target practice because even I could hit the bulls-eye with one of those.

And you don't need one to protect yourself. Plenty of other guns for that.

On the same day that this mentally unstable man hosed down 26 innocents in Newton, CT, another one went on a rampage in a Chinese elementary school injuring 23 with a knife. Twenty-six deaths versus zero. They both needed mental healthcare (the other equally important side of this coin). But the difference in the outcome was the weapon.

The Second Amendment guarantees guns for a well regulated militia. Whether that means your next door neighbor or an organized and regulated military group against governmental tyranny, is a matter for debate. But the current bills being discussed in governments at both the federal and state levels (such as those passed in the Colorado legislature recently) are not asking for all guns to be destroyed. They are looking to reign in the free-for-all "You're crazy? Here's a gun!" culture we live in now.

Guns are a part of our history. As well as for untold violence, they're used for protection, food and fun - and that afternoon at the Luthy's really was fun. But I do not believe 200 years ago the Founders intended the Second Amendment to include unregulated machine guns. That just seems illogical to me. But then again, I'm talking about a country whose response to the massacring of children was to race each other to the nearest gun shop and buy as many guns as they could.

Warning: Mama Needs to Vent!

"Bankrupt? Whaddya mean?" (is what I said)

If the sellers of the house my friends are buying are filing for bankruptcy and it affects that sale and then the sale of their house to other buyers falls through I QUIT!
(is what I thought)

A different house I have listed with Katie went under contract when we were in Panama, and after six weeks of helping him redesign the house and researching septic laws and water permits and all kinds of other crap that naturally led us to believe he was about to buy the house, he walked away.

Another friend had been under contract to buy a place downtown for months when we ran out of loan options. He makes more money than any of us, but a tiny credit snag made all the lenders say no - and a new law trying to help the mortgage situation made it so the private lenders I'd found to give him a loan, weren't allowed to.

I found a house that fit these other clients perfectly. It was exactly what they wanted for $300,000 less than they were prepared to pay. Score! We were under contract the same day, knowing there were numerous other people ready to buy it too. My clients started calling all the contractors who worked on the house to get the scoop, and it turns out the owner is a huge pain to deal with. They told my people all kinds of stories of what a jerk he is. They walked away.

Huh? Wouldn't you want to buy a house built by a hard-to-please perfectionist?

We still haven't found them another house, and that perfect one is sold.

Then, after months of communicating with some new clients and finding them houses and going out to take videos and photos of specific angles, I drove them around for six hours. That's normal. But it turns out they were looking all over Colorado and had appointments with Realtors everywhere. That's not normal.

So frustrating!

So I'd already decided that if the final two of the five contracts I had going fell apart too (they were dependent on each other), I was done. What's so crazy though, is that when you do finally get paid, it makes up for the lean times. Gotta remember that. Gotta remember that.

We sorted things out and the two houses are supposed to close this Friday (29th). Keep your fingers crossed.


In the meantime, somehow I ended up with this:

Ha! So maybe there's hope.