Little Greenhouse in the Big Woods

On a thread in my FB gardening group earlier, I mentioned that "a resurgence in gardening seems to be one of the more pleasant side effects of this quarantine." 

In reality, a resurgence of all hobbies has been a side effect. Last month I posted this question on facebook:

It was surprising to see how many replies this simple question prompted. There was such a crazy variety of activities mentioned--everything from home improvement projects to trying new recipes to building furniture from scratch. People were eager and proud to share their best coping strategies for dealing with a societal shutdown. It was pretty cute.

So my stay-home hobby has been gardening. My sis and I both became obsessed with growing things last month. Unfortunately where I live gardening is sketchy. Not only is my house on a slope, but we're on the shady side of the mountain and only get direct sunshine in any given spot for an hour or two a day. Adding to that is our elevation, which can lend itself to lower temperatures at night, even in spring. All of this makes it tricky to figure out what will actually grow here. 

So to resolve these issues, we leveled out a small piece of our property in the sunniest spot in our yard, built a short retaining wall with cinder blocks, and put in a little greenhouse!

Isn't it so dang cute?! This thing has become my joy. Clint even installed fairy lights on the inside so I can visit my plants at night. I was so worried that my veggies and flowers wouldn't make it because even though this is the sunniest part of my yard, it still only gets direct sunlight for maybe ninety+ minutes, then partial sunlight during various parts of the day. I've heard that tomatoes need 5-6 hours of daily sunlight, so I wasn't sure if things would actually grow. But after nearly a month, everything in my greenhouse is thriving! The tomatoes and peas have doubled in size, and all the seedlings in Trin's ball jars have taken off. So I think that even though our sunlight is limited, the greenhouse turns it into supersized UV rays or something. (←Totally scientific.)

Shan built a greenhouse too--before ours was up, actually--and it's awesome. Trin and my niece Cass have also gotten into gardening (all those ball jars in my greenhouse are Trin's), and my mom's yard looks like something from a magazine. So with all of these emerging green thumbs, we've been sharing our garden adventures with each other via Marco Polo. It's fun to have a common interest to share with my family.

Though suddenly I'm wondering if I got into gardening out of sheer pressure. 😂

Oh well. I love it. If you yourself are still stuck at home, I hope you've found yourself a good quarantine anti-drug.

I Blew It

My New Year's resolution was to write one blog post a week. Not only did I miss that mark, but I didn't manage a single post for the entire month of February.

So now the question is: Do I get back on track with my resolution and try to write that one post a week? Or do I succumb to the fact that I'm just not going to do it?

Black Lilies is currently at 118%. It's turned into one bad dream where I'm running and running but not getting any closer to my destination. I stopped updating my word meter because, what's the point? I'm doing an author's booth for Jamboree Days in July, and months ago I assumed I'd have Black Lilies at the event too, instead of Chasing Echoes alone--my one hit wonder. But now I'm having to face the fact that Black Lilies might not be ready in time. Even if I finished the book tomorrow (which I won't), the process of editing, revisions, beta reading, publishing...that's all going to take months. 

I'm being house-blocked at every turn. The time I should be spending on writing has been devoted to home improvements. Right now I'm painting all the ugly brown wainscoting in my house white, and it's turned out to be the most grueling project ever. Why can't I be one of those writers who's perfectly content in a whatever-house? Why do I have to want everything pretty? Like, I'm sure Hemingway was surrounded by total disarray and filth, yet continued to happily tap away at his typewriter.

My Happy Place

I can't believe I'm posting this. It's still so surreal to me.

I'm moving! It has been my dream for years now to live in the mountains. Lucky for me this has been a shared dream; Clint has always wanted this too. We've done things in these last few years to make our lives in the desert more tolerable, like upgrading the interior of our home, putting in the pool, and so on, but in the end it all feels like putting lipstick on a pig. No matter how pretty we make this place, we still live in the desert, with scorching temperatures and blowing dust and people who simply don't take pride in their community. 

Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets over the work we've put into our house. The pool especially, because it has given us a reprieve from the oppressive desert heat for three summers now, and it's going to be a huge selling feature for our house. Likewise everything else we've added will increase our home's value. And honestly, we've had happy lives here. I grew up in the desert and it will always feel like home to me. But, for lack of a less corny way of saying it, my heart is happiest in the forest. I can't even describe the level of calm I feel when I'm nestled into trees. It's weird, right?...the different settings that bring serenity to different people? Your happy place might be the beach, the calming waves of the ocean. Or maybe it's open pastures...a rambling farm house with wide green spaces reaching for the horizon. In the same way, mine is the mountains, and no matter how much work I put into my current home, I just can't shake the desire for towering trees and fresh piney fragrances. So Clint and I decided to finally get serious about looking for a property up there (other factors played into this decision, but I'll just leave it at this for now). We ended up spending the first half of summer looking at land--even putting an offer on one parcel--thinking we'd build a home. But it turns out that the cost to build a home in the mountains is so astronomical that we'd be upside-down on our mortgage before we even moved into our new home. I always thought building a house was cheaper than buying, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

So after spending a month haggling and dreaming, we decided we just couldn't do it. This brought us to option #2, purchasing an already existing home. The tricky part of this plan is that mountain homes are...well, downright weird. Most are three stories with very compartmentalized rooms and bizarre floor plans. For example, one house we walked into had a front door that went straight into the kitchen. There was one other front door entrance on the lower level that went through the master bedroom. So for guests, I'd have a choice: Do I want them to see my dirty dishes or my dirty underwear? (Not that mine are dirty, of course, because anything coming out of me is pure sugar and sunshine). Hmmm. *scratches head*. Another house was loaded with mysterious stairs going into dark places with lots of crevices and crannies...it was like the Winchester House spawned an evil little lovechild. Some of the more "normal" floor plans in the mountains feature split levels, where you walk into a little platform and have to immediately decide whether you're going upstairs or down. I can't even entertain houses like this. It's like getting ready to enter an elevator and being greeted with, well, half the elevator. (I am the analogy queen!). 

No one is at fault for these bizarre floor plans, it's just that you're dealing with homes that are either built into the mountain or hanging off a cliff, so home-builders are forced to get super creative with their floor plans and utilize every bit of space they have available. And honestly, it turns out that looking at quirky mountain homes is a ton of fun. House hunting in the desert is pretty boring. "Here's another ranch...yep, another track home...oh look at that, another ranch...). But in the mountains, you never know what to expect when you walk through the front door. The exclamations from my kids ranged anywhere from "There's for sure a dead body buried over here" to "I call dibs on that dark basement room from the pits of hell!" (May have tweaked their wording a little). Needless to say, I made my peace with the fact that there was no way we were going to get a "normal" home. So our goal was simply to find as close to normal as possible. 

Enter: This house. It was love at first sight.

Front patio

Side-view of house

Street-view - One driveway goes to the carport, the other to the garage

Street view #2

Carport

Side-view of garage and studio apartment

My future writing lair and art studio! Or as Clint calls it, my she-shed.

Two car garage (rare in the mountains) with studio apartment above.
Apartment has one bedroom, a kitchenette, and a bathroom.

So there you have it. I'm sure I'll be posting more in the coming weeks, if I have time to breathe. Everything is happening so fast. Clint and I will be scrambling this month to get our current house cleaned out, repairs made, etc., so we can put it on the market. I guess I'm supposed to be packing too, but I just can't. While I have no problem imagining moving into the new house, I can't picture myself moving out of this house. So I need to wait a little longer for all of this to sink in before I can get my butt packing.

My Very Own Writing Corner

Clint gave me my own writing cove for Christmas!

To put this in context, I've been desperately craving my own little writer's hideaway for years now. When we first moved into our house, I gave Clint the spare room to use as his miniature man cave. At the time it seemed fair, because I pretty much had free reign in decorating our whole house. He decided he wanted to turn the spare room into an office (with a small bed in case I kicked him out for snoring or thrashing around in his sleep), and he wanted an Asian theme. So we painted the room in reds and yellows, brought in a black cherry blossom bedspread and some other Asian decor, hung up black curtains, displayed all of his dojo belts/black belt certificate/swords, and so on. When we finished, it looked like this:

OLD OFFICE

Not exactly my style, but it looked kind of cool. It was colorful, clean, and fun, plus I was happy that Clint had his own little space in our house to play on the computer and watch his anime.

In the last few years, this room has changed functions countless times. At one point it was an exercise room, another time a painting studio, and once, it was even an archery room of sorts where Clint hand-fletched arrows and strung bows. The dude changes hobbies a lot, and this poor little room was forced to keep up. The room was always messy (unlike what you see in the above picture) and over time the walls looked kind of like ketchup and mustard to me, but it was functional and lived in, and that was fine with me.

But then Clint started to use the room for storage. Things that he didn't want to disappear into the garage slowly crept into the room, until the desk became so cluttered and heaped with stuff that it rendered the office unusable. He stopped using the desktop computer altogether in lieu of using his laptop in the living room. The pillows all disappeared, the bed was messy, the floors were littered with boxes and who knows what else, and the room turned into a dark, depressing space. I wish I had taken a picture of it in that state, but no one wants to take pictures of things that suck.

Little by little his man cave was making less sense to me. It wasn't just the perpetual mess. It was the fact that the room had become stagnant. No one was using it anymore--it was just a place to "stick things" when you had no where else to put them. And I couldn't help but note the irony, given that as both a teacher and a writer, I would treasure a quiet space to do my grading and writing. Every Sunday I sit at the dining room table to grade. If I need a pen, or paper clips to organize students' work, or a post-it to label something, etc., I'm forced to dig through batteries and bolts and whatever-else in the office to find what I need (which these past few months had become impossible). And writing is even worse. I can't even describe how hard it is to write a book at a dining room table in the middle of your house with kids and pets running around.

At least, this WAS the case.

When Clint asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I told him I wanted the office. I honestly expected him to argue, and I was prepared with all my reasons. You know, things like "My job requires me to grade," and "You're not using it anymore," and "I'll treasure this room and take care of it like no one else has." But I think he must have been thinking about giving it to me for awhile, because he didn't protest at all. Instead, he had me show him a picture of what kind of work space would be ideal to me.

Blue is my favorite color (as in, the deepest brightest part of our desert sky), so that part was easy. But I also wanted a space that was lively and fresh--to keep me alert when I'm trying to write. So I showed him a picture of a room that was cornflower blue with pops of white and red. I was prepared to do this project with him, but he decided he wanted this to be my "big" gift--that he would do all the work and I would get to be surprised with the results. That part was a little nerve-wracking for me, because I'm used to being in control of home decor type projects. He had the office door locked for weeks, and I was going crazy wanting to see it. But it was worth the madness. The grand reveal was Christmas morning, and here's what I walked into:

NEW OFFICE

That tree decal gets me the most. For at least a full minute I couldn't even take in the rest of the room because I couldn't rip my eyes away from it.

The gum ball machine I got for my birthday last year--I had wanted one ever since I wrote my gum ball stories. It makes sense to have it in this room now.

My typewriter!

There's still some work to do, like hanging up some of my smaller oil paintings and replacing the ugly brown door (not shown in these pictures) with a new white one. I'm also thinking of painting that desk an antique white over spring break. But I love this room! Like, I can't get myself to leave (okay, don't tell anyone but I slept in here last night. I had to, just once). And the room is just girly enough that Clint doesn't want anything to do with it. He walks in from time to time and says "It's just so...pretty," and shakes his head sadly and walks out. So it's mine now. All MINE. (That's reading a little more villainous than I was going for).

Outside of the whole office thing, Christmas overall was pretty wonderful. I'll try to write about it later, and maybe post some pics (I think I say this every year and never end up doing it). The only downfall is I have a nasty, nasty cold. I don't even know how that's possible since I was just sick during Thanksgiving break. Clint says it's because I don't let myself get sick when I'm working, so the second I'm on break, my body's all, 'Good, I can finally fall apart!' I've heard this same theory from some of my coworkers too. It seems a whole slew of us teachers get sick right when break starts. But I have to say, as far as nasty colds go, this is a really pleasant one. Pleasant, as in I don't feel sick AT ALL. I actually feel really good. But it's nasty, because I'm one big ball of flem, and it has totally wiped out my voice. AGAIN. This is the second time in a thirty day period I've had no voice. At least the first time I was down to a raspy whisper-type thing. This time my voice sounds wheezy. It's horrible, really...my kids were telling me earlier, "Stop talking Mom. Seriously."

So yes, wheezing ball of flem. Let me tell you. I'm sexy.

This is SO enough writing for now.

P.S. I owe @MelDouleur and @bloodglorygrace a dancing clip in the future since I said I would participate in the Christmas Carol hop and I didn't. But here are their awesome contributions of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and Silent Night.

The Fancy Puddle--COMPLETE

Our pool is filling up with water right now. RIGHT NOW, as I type this blog entry. Check it out:

Oh my gosh you guys! We have a pool! I can NOT believe it. Granted it only has about a foot and a half of water right now, but I AM IN AWE. I'm not the kind of person who owns a pool. I'm the kind of person who has to duct-tape her broken shoe together in the middle of her shift. That's who I am. Not this grown-up person who has a pool.

I promise I'll get over this soon. 

Here was the pool earlier today, right after the plaster was finished:

Can you believe you use a garden hose to fill a pool? I don't know what I was expecting to use, but it cracks me up every time I walk outside, seeing that tiny hose guzzling away, taking on such a huge job...the little engine that could. Gary (our pool guy) says the pool will be full by tomorrow. Then we can treat it with its cocktail of necessary chemicals, and it will officially be ready for occupants on Saturday. Since our 'pool warming' party is on Saturday, we're cutting it a little close.

To sum up the whole installing a pool experience, I would say it's sheer bliss for the first two weeks when your contractors are doing all the work, but then it's pretty much hell when you're trying to pass inspection. I swear we barely made it. We failed our inspection on Tuesday, and Gary had to beg the supervisor to come yesterday to reevaluate our fence. We finally passed inspection yesterday, just in time for the crew to plaster today.  

I have to hand it to Gary. Our pool was originally promised by June 18th, and he delivered it today, on June 19th. One mere day late, despite all of the obstacles that got in the way...including the fact that our plaster crew flaked out on us today and Gary had to hire new ones at the last minute. Seriously, it's insane we have a completed pool tonight.   

We still have some work ahead of us (covered patio and rock-scape), but for now I just want to lay in my backyard and watch that little puddle grow.

P.S. I asked Clint what I should title this post, and he said "Rubba Dub Dub This is a Big Damn Tub." 

Dirt, Wind, & Why I Don't Grocery Shop

My post titles are really going downhill.

June 30th is creeping closer and closer, and I have NOTHING WRITTEN. It turns out that re-doing your backyard is about as counterproductive to writing a novel as you can get. I mean, yes, it's the contractors who are installing the patio and the pool, but we're on our own when it comes to building a fence that will actually pass inspection, and figuring out some sort of landscaping (lest we have a big watery hole in the middle of dirt, which could be fun, but not quite what we're going for). So this entire week, which I had pictured as me chilling out at Starbucks with my laptop, has instead been me elbow deep in dirt. Soooo much dirt. It's in my ears and in my hair and up my nose and...in just about every orifice that grains of sand can wiggle their way into. Who knew that digging a few holes and planting a few rose bushes and building a few trenches would be so...dirty?

It's the desert. Oh my gosh you guys there is SO MUCH DIRT. 

And do you have any idea what it's like trying to hang up panels for a fence when the wind is slamming into you like a semi-truck? WHY IS IT SO DAMN WINDY? 

So now that I've talked y'all into purchasing real estate in the High Desert....

But seriously, for all the complaining I'm doing, Clint has been doing ten times the amount of work as me. The dude is a working machine. He has been living/breathing/sleeping/eating backyard fence right now. 

Well, minus the eating.

But I am happy to say that things are progressing nicely. Which is good, because we scheduled our "Pool Warming Party" for the 21st. This one's for family only, since our backyard won't be finished and the pool and spa will be freezing (we can't run the heaters for three weeks because the plaster needs to cure--though water is just fine). Here's the little invite I made using PowerPoint:

It includes "a dash of Lucas's birthday" because my little nephew Lucas is turning five, and he so badly wanted to have a birthday pool party at our house. We originally told Moo (my sister in-law) that we wouldn't be able to, because the pool wouldn't be ready in time. So she made plans to have a small birthday gathering for him at an ice-cream parlor down the hill instead. Well lo and behold we discovered the pool would be ready in time (though barely), so now Lucas is celebrating his birthday twice. The ice-cream party will be for presents and sweets, but our house will be for splashing around and all-around fun. Moo ordered these cupcakes for our pool party:

Cute cupcakes makes up for frigid water and an incomplete backyard, right? (Say "right").

On the writing frontier, I met up with my good friend, Brandon, for a critique session. I've been friends with his family for years (eight to be exact), especially his dad who actually appears in past blog posts as Mr. A.  But Brandon and I bonded with each other at the beginning of this school year when he started subbing regularly at the Ranch. He just started writing a SciFi book, so over summer we decided to meet up once a week to critique each other's work.  Our first meeting was on Thursday, but we went ahead and swapped chapters the day before so we would be prepared. Overall, considering we're making this up as we go, our first CP session was pretty awesome.  Who knows? Maybe we'll be able to find one or two other writers in our area to join us in the future. Though I wouldn't want more than four, I think. I love how much you can get done with a smaller group. 

By the way, Brandon texted me a few days before our meeting with "The real question is do we meet noonish for beer or in the morning for coffee? You know my vote." So of course we did beer. Which is totally breaking Ernest Hemingway's profound advice, "Write drunk, edit sober." But I think CPing over beer is brilliant. Looser tongues and more accepting of critique.

Oh, I almost forgot to say that today is my and Clint's anniversary. Sixteen years. And it happens to fall on Friday the 13th, AND a full moon. I really, really wish we liked scary movies so we could have commemorated this probably-never-to-happen-again-in-our-lifetime event with a horror-flick marathon (what better way to celebrate your marriage than with blood and gore?). Sadly, we both hate those kinds of movies, so that wasn't going to happen. Ultimately Clint had to work today, but we were able to go to dinner tonight at our favorite sushi restaurant. He gave me perfume, a sapphire necklace, and an orange rose (inside story). We never do anniversary gifts, so now I look like a complete chump. But I did love the gifts. It was a pretty sweet surprise considering I wasn't expecting anything.

I went grocery shopping today. This is only noteworthy because I don't go grocery shopping--unless Clint's out of town for three months and we will literally starve if I don't. Anyway, Elijah kept trying to sneak a watermelon in the basket, which was funny because of all the tiny treats you can try to sneak into a cart, he chooses a watermelon. Still, I have to say I was impressed. Even though I made him put the watermelon back (which he had named "Melon-ie") a thousand times, every time I turned around for a fraction of a second, that damn watermelon was back in the basket. I couldn't figure out how he was doing it. Like, does he have some sort of large-fruit transportation device hidden away in his pockets? Later, when we were unloading our groceries--sans Melonie--somehow a giant jar of pickles dropped and exploded on the ground. By the time the kids and I got into the house, we were all bleeding from various spots (flip-flops don't provide much armor against projectile glass). At this point Trin says, "You know Mom, when we go grocery shopping with Dad, we don't usually end up bleeding."

See, this is why I don't grocery shop.

Summer so Far: Writing, Pool, & Aqua Cycles

I just posted yesterday, but I don't think lamenting about my chicken whose wing got ripped off counts as a real post. Plus I really want to do a writing update. Okay, and a pool update.

WARNING: The below prattling falls into the category of boring stuff that's really only interesting to me, so I hereby apologize in advance.

Writing update: I have only two more chapters (maybe 3) until my book is finished! But what I'm even more excited about is the fact that Clint sat down with me for three or four hours and helped me map out all of book 2, and most of book 3. I even have the conflict for book 4 now, I just don't have that one fleshed out like I do the other two. I am thrilled with books 2 and 3! Particularly #2. It has a fun story concept, but also starts to play around with the bigger conflict...the one that carries through until the end of the series. The four sisters really have to start working together toward the end of book 2, segwaying into the beginning of book 3, where they learn the full truth of who (or what) they are.

Look at me, talking about it like it's already written.

What's crazy is I would have never sat down and mapped out the series the way I did if Clint hadn't forgotten his wallet. He was on his way to work the other night, and had driven for an hour when he stopped for gas. It was there he realized he had accidentally left his wallet at home. There was no way he could continue on without it (no money for meals, no way of checking in his motel room, etc,) so I told him I would meet him halfway to bring it to him. He said don't worry about it. He doesn't really trust my crappy night vision, but mainly he was discouraged at the idea of having to repeat that hour of driving. So he decided to call in sick. though he was feeling a little guilty about the decision. I told him, "Don't stress, you never forget your wallet. This happened for a reason." Well he ended up coming home and was SO in the mood to talk about my series. We started what began as the world's worst brainstorming session, with him tossing out ideas and me rolling my eyes at the outrageous stupidity of them. But little by little, the ideas started getting better, and I started spinning off his suggestions with ones of my own, and the "What if's" grew to amazing proportions, and before we knew it, we had a kick-ass sequel. Okay, it still has a lot of holes, but it's a lot more than I had to work with for my first book. I told Clint that someday, when I get around to writing and publishing this thing, I'm going to dedicate it to his MIA wallet.

For the record I don't think that brainstorming my series was the "reason" for him forgetting his wallet--I'm pretty sure the universe doesn't really care that I'm trying to write a novel. But it was awfully convenient.

I have a title for the book now too! I disclosed the new title publicly to two tweeps, but deleted those tweets when my soon-to-be editor @boundiali recommended I not broadcast it to the world until Cover Reveal Day. The new title is a double entendre, but the reader won't realize that until the beginning of book 3.

Pool Update: Okay, so the pool! The tile is finished. Next week they're pouring the patio, and then once our fence is finished, they'll do the plaster. They pretty much hold your pool hostage until your fence has passed inspection. At this point, the estimated date of completion is June 18th. Here's what it looks like today:

Brickwork on spa

Close-up of tile (colors are more faded when dry)

One tile catastrophe after another resulted in Clint and I making these tiles ourselves. He cut the burnt sienna tiles into the four corner pieces that you see above, and we pieced together the decorative centers using stock tiles and sample glass tiles ripped straight off of the board of our tile store (they let us rip off their samples because they were making up for the fact that they royally screwed us over on our original order--long story). We hot-glued our arrangements onto 6'x6' square cut-outs of screen (as in, we literally tore down our dining room window screen and cut it into pieces for this emergency project), and voila! Twenty-eight completely custom accent tiles, ready for installation.  The little yellow and white glass tile on the bottom right even has starfish in it. Super cute. We saved $580 by doing the accent tiles ourselves, but I think that might be offset by the spike in blood pressure that comes with being jolted awake in the morning and told that you only have a couple of hours to do an arts-and-craft-project from hell.

Non-writing- and non-pool-related news ('cause sometimes I actually have a life beyond those things. Um...sometimes): I took the kids up to Shan's house yesterday and spent the day relaxing at Lake Gregory--er--Lake Pinecone. It was a gorgeous day. My parents drove up too, along with our friend Sarah. Shan and Jer made everyone an awesome lunch and then we walked down to the lake. My favorite part of the day was riding the aqua cycles with my mom. If you've never seen one before, these are the ones at Lake Pinecone:

And here's what they do:

They look all cute and whimsical, but these things are a workout. It costs $5 for a half hour, and I was laughing because when someone asked the worker "Will you holler at us when our time is up?" she said something like, "No, we don't keep track, but you'll know when your thirty minutes are up because you'll be dying." I wish I could have captured a picture of me and my mom riding ours, but there's nowhere to keep a cell phone safe once you're out on the lake, especially given that on the other side of the lake were these giant waterfall-sprayer things. My mom and I, who turned out to be crummy aqua cycle drivers, ended up trapping ourselves in one of the sprayers and getting drenched.

Have I ever mentioned that Shannon's house is a mere ten minute walk from all this awesomeness? Man...talk about living the life.

Our Big Fancy Hole

Too many of my recent posts have been about writing...I need to take a break from that theme before I render my "This is Not a Writing Blog" tab a big fat lie.

So how about this? Last week we broke ground on our pool! The workers showed up at our house on Wednesday at 7 a.m., and it was utter chaos. Suddenly my yard was crowded with trucks and tractors, with all sorts of buzzing and activity going on. 

The dogs couldn't be in the back yard with the tractor and the open fence, so we had a pack of dogs running around the house. Not to mention the workers had to do some trenching in the petting zoo, so we had to temporarily relocate the chickens and the rabbits. It was so much fun...all the whirlwind and excitement. By the time I got to work that morning, I was still hot from all my running around, and my skirt was coated in dog fur (luckily I keep a lint roller in my classroom). I was on a complete high.

By 3:30 that afternoon, I came home to this:

I'm still stunned that our entire pool was dug out in eight hours! In the book Holes, it takes Stanley and the other boys a full work day just to dig one 6'x6' hole. But these guys dug a 16'x30' hole in that same time. Granted these guys have a tractor, while Stanley and Co only had a shovel, but still.

By day 2, most of the rebar was installed, not to mention the underground plumbing/electric/etc. By day 3, the rebar was finished, including the spa's, and we passed inspection. So either Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, we get concrete.

Here is what the pool looks like right now:

As you can see, the spa is attached to the pool, but set a tier above, that way the warm spa water can tumble down to heat the pool.

I walked all the way into the deep end yesterday. I couldn't resist. I had to avoid stepping on all those metal bars, but I still ended up scraping/stabbing myself a few times. Totally worth it. 

Yesterday Elijah asked, "When the pool is done, who gets to jump in first?" We debated the issue for some time, and then Elijah finally said that we would all jump in together. All four of us, at the same time.  LOVE it. But then they all balked at me when I said maybe we could hold hands. I guess I pushed the corniness boundary. 

One more thing. When the workers were trenching the petting zoo, one of them found this:

Baby bunnies. Six of them, actually. They're much smaller than they look in this picture, but they are very lively/healthy. Every single one of them is a spitting image of Pumpkin. Seeing them made my giddy-o-meter spike to ridiculous levels. Baby bunnies and the makings of a pool in one day was more than I could take.

By the looks of it, these little guys were inspired by the elaborate hole in our backyard and are now digging up their own little pool. 

Mother's Day & Chopping Tables

I'm determined that I must write a post today, lest the quality of this blog be utterly reduced to my sister's rants. 

It's been a busy week, so I'm trying to decide what to include and what to leave out.  I think I'll go ahead and write about Mother's Day, the lizard, and the rat.  I think I'll leave out my Builders Club Award's Night and all of the stuff I've been doing to prepare for my summer job, which I find interesting but you'll find boring.

Okay, Mother's Day.  As Shan mentioned, we took my mom and dad out for an early dinner on Saturday.  It was so much fun.  We ordered this incredibly delicious wine called...crap, I can't remember what it was called.  But it was crisp and smooth which just the right touch of sweetness.  We ended up going through two bottles.  After dinner, we decided to walk the mall for a little while.  The text I sent Clint at this particular moment said "We're walking the mall attempting to sober up. :-)"  At the mall we met up with Jeremy and the kids, and somehow we all wound up in a shoe store where I'm pretty sure everyone in our party bought shoes.  After leaving the mall, I went back to my car to discover that I had locked my keys inside.  No surprise there.  I called Triple A and one of their guys came out and retrieved my keys.  The guy was very chivalrous and a little flirty.  Later, I was thinking how great a profession AAA would be for a man.  90% of the time, they're rescuing females from stupid mistakes like draining our batteries or leaving our keys locked in our cars, and they come out of the whole thing looking like knights in shining armor.

On Sunday, Clint, the kids, and I did a little shopping, and then went to my favorite sushi restaurant (the one half-way up the mountains in the middle of nowhere).  After we came back, I reupholstered six dining room table chairs.  It was supposed to be eight, but I ran out of fabric.  This job was grueling.  My Fiskars wouldn't cut through the fabric (it was ivory-colored vinyl), so I ended up having to use a bare razor blade.  Since the razor had no handle, this meant having to push hard into the top edge of the blade with the pads of my fingers.  I managed to cut out the pattern for six chairs without any accidents, but just the force of pushing on the top of the blade over and over again put all of these nasty little lacerations onto the pads of my fingers.  I eventually had to put band-aids on them because they were bleeding, but the thing that sucks the most is I can't text right now with these band-aids in the way.  I should be able to take them off by tomorrow and be back to merrily texting away.  But if anyone wanted to take my fingerprints right now, they'd be screwed.  You know, cuz there's such a huge probability of that happening.  Either way, my fingertips look like minced meat, but the chairs look great!  The previously stained-to-hell fabric is gone.  The next step in this project is a little more drastic...I'm going to saw off the legs of the table and chairs to make them shorter.  We have a tall bistro-style table, and Clint refuses to sit at it during dinners because his ass falls asleep since his feet can't reach the floor (his words, not mine).  So I figure a few little swipes of a chainsaw will take care of that problem.  I'll be sure to post a follow-up entry when we're out shopping for a new table because I got a little chop-happy--or hormonal--with my chainsaw.   

Oh yeah, Clint got me a beautiful little wine rack for Mother's Day.  It's sort of rustic-looking and has these metal spirals that holds four bottles of wine upside-down, sort of like bananas.  Okay, that's a terrible description.  I'll have to take a picture of it later.  The kids made me five bookmarks, but they are not your run-of-the mill bookmarks.  These ones are really hilarious and creative.  Again, I'll have to post a pic, because I can't really explain them with words.

Okay, the lizard and rat will have to wait for another time because somehow I ended up rambling about our stupid table.

Universal Studios Monsoon and Other Unrelated Stuff

I stand no chance of catching my blog up on everything, so I'm going to use Shan's numbering method to hit the highlights:

1. I took thirty Builders Club students on a field trip to Universal Studios on Saturday.  It rained the whole time, although the heaviest fall was right when we arrived to the park.  It felt like a monsoon while we were purchasing our group's tickets.  Of course my idea of a monsoon is probably skewed by the fact that I live in the desert, but I will point out that my socks were soaked within two minutes of leaving the bus, even though I was wearing boots that were supposedly water resistent.  On the plus side, because of the rain, the lines were non-existence.  We walked straight on to Mummy's Revenge and Jurassic Park without even waiting thirty seconds.  Plus my students, being desert rats themselves, aren't used to rain, so they were all excited and festive about it.  The park sold ponchos for $4.00 (decent ones too!), so everywhere you looked there was a sea of bright yellow shiny hooded figures sloshing through puddles.  It was quite the scene to see in Southern California.  But my favorite part of the whole day was getting to tour Wisteria Lane.  Desperate Housewives is my weekly guilty pleasure.
2. While we were in Vegas, the cat (Meow--yeah, we give our pets creative names) decided to give birth in my closet.  I lost a duffle bag and a purse in the process, but I just felt relieved that my favorite boots survived the ordeal considering they, too, were sitting on the floor.  We now have five little Meow spawns.  Their names are:  Ewok (although we call her Wookie), Sunshine, Yowler, Pants, and Kitty Soft Paws.  They are adorable as all get-out, but now my closet smells like kitty litter and my nostrils are perpetually plugged up due to mild cat allergies...although I guess the latter makes the former less of a problem.
3. I've been jogging quite a bit lately.  Not by choice, really.  Clint's mom calls me up regularly asking me if I want to run the track at my school, and most of the time I end up saying yes because I can't think of a good reason not to.  We always walk from my house to my work (3/4 of a mile), jog the track eight times (two miles), and then walk back home (another 3/4 mile).  By the time we're done, we've walked/jogged three-and-a-half miles.  Sometimes I loop the track a ninth time while Teri is finishing her eighth loop.  The funny thing is I really don't like to run.  Yet somehow I keep doing it.  And somehow I got roped into two 5Ks: one in April, and another one in June.  The one in June is at Knott's Soak City, so I'm really excited about that one.  The last third of a mile is through their "Sunset River."  Awesome.  I told Teri if I end up living to be a hundred--or dying in June in the Sunset River-- I'm blaming her.  
4. I used part of my tax refund to buy myself a new handgun.  I know...I could've got myself some cute new clothes for work, or a hot new pair of boots, or a new purse to replace the one the cat exploded on, but no...I go and buy a firearm.  But seriously, I love love love it.  It's a turquoise and black 38 Special.  I hand-picked this one because I wanted something that was very compact, but something that packs a bigger punch than a 9 mm.  Eventually I plan to attempt to get my CCW license, so I definitely wanted a petite handgun.  I say "attempt" because the license is difficult to qualify for, and it is very expensive. I did have to take a handgun safety test just to make my purchase, which was sort of funny because I didn't realize I was going to be taking a test that day.  When the store's owner gave me that piece of paper and escorted me to the conference room, I was instantly thinking, "Oh crap, should I have studied for this?"  As it turned out, the test was way easy.  I only had to cheat on two questions.  Kidding, kidding...anyway, I was supposed to pick up my gun today, but the place was closed because they are moving to a new location.  I was so disappointed that I may have cried a little.  Okay, I didn't cry, but I was REALLY bummed.  Clint and I had made plans to go to the gun range this evening to try it out, but that same gun range is now closed to the general public until this Saturday.  So even if I get my new gun by tomorrow, I can't play with it until Saturday.       
5. I'm on spring break!  Yeeeeeeeeessssssss!
6. Our heater is broken.  Our kitchen sink is broken too (something's wrong with the pipe underneath).  I've been using a space heater to keep warm and rinsing dishes in the tub. 
7. Trin and the rest of her sixth grade class were on my campus on Friday for seventh grade orientation.  It was a lot of fun to have my own kid at my actual work site all day.  There's a good chance she'll be in my class next year, but that's something I'll write a seperate entry about once it gets closer. 

Okay, I'm pretty sure when my sister did the numbered list thing, her items were much more concise.

Done with Floors and Dream Couch

Our flooring is done!  We also replaced our old couch and loveseat with new ones.  Here are some pics of our new living room:

 

I love the new floors!  They make the whole house feel more airy.  I'm also thrilled with the new couch and loveseat, which is good, because they were a pain in the ass to find. The problem is I wanted something lighter in fabric to brighten up the room, but it also had to be made from durable, pet/kid-friendly fabric. Plus I wanted something pillowy (spell check is throwing a hissy fit over that word)...basically a couch that feels like a giant marshmallow.  Clint's wish list included built-in recliners, so that made our ideal couch even more difficult to find.  We went to six or seven different furniture stores to find what we were looking for, but ultimately had to special order this one to get everything we wanted.  The fabric is microsuede, so anything that spills on it wipes right off.  There are two built-in recliners in both the couch and the love-seat (four total), not to mention two cup holders and a built-in center console that's big enough to store two full-size laptops.  I'm not kidding, this thing is our dream couch.

Curling up in the Kitchen

Yesterday I had one of those days where you come home feeling like pureed jello.  It's been a fun week, but my club's Top Turkey fundraiser has eaten up all of my prep periods, and has been a lot of work.  During seventh period I was counting down the minutes until work was over...I felt so mentally drained.  On my [ridiculously short] drive home, I kept imagining how great it would be to plop down on my couch with a cup of Earl Grey and watch some mindless TV.  But when I entered my house, said-couch wasn't there.  I followed it's trail to this location:

Yep, that's my couch.  In the kitchen.  Clint had taken another day off to do some more work on the floors, and he made amazing progress, but not without a few inconvenient side-effects.  With nothing better to do (TV was unplugged and crammed on dining room table), I posted the following status on facebook:

My living room migrated a little. It's all good though, cuz now if I get thirsty, it's a mere arm's reach to the sink. And if I get cold, I can just turn on the oven.

I did still enjoy my cup of tea.  And the fluorescents provided great lighting to chill with a book.

Today the living room is back to normal, which is sort of nice because if I decide to take a little cat nap, I no longer have to curl up between the dishwasher and stove.  I'll post pics this weekend, once we have all of the trim back on the walls.

Living on Concrete

Today has been a huge improvement upon yesterday.  It was awesome waking up this morning with a three day weekend to look forward to.  And honestly, yesterday wasn't terrible, although I know it may have come across that way.  I was just being your typical over-emotional female, but I'm over it now.  Work was crazy-busy, mainly because I'm losing all of my prep periods due to the Top Turkey competition.  We also had a renaissance rally, which always adds chaos to an otherwise normal day.  I was part of a "flash mob," in which we surprised the students with a short dance.  It was only about a minute long, but it was pretty funny.  My students couldn't believe it when their own teacher was suddenly in a crowd of thirty people, doing a synchronized dance (we rehearsed it the week before).  It was like being in a scene from a bad musical.    

Last night we went over to Becky's house for small group and had our usual fun.  Becky made a delicious potato cheese soup that has me feeling inspired to try cooking up some soups myself.  I absolutely love soup in winter--I literally crave it every day.  That and hot tea.  Clint's sister (Moo) bought me some cinnamon tea for my birthday--the really good stuff--and it is so delicious.  Soup, hot tea, and bubble baths...those are the things about winter I love the most.  Well that, and Christmas.

Today I got to see Jewls!  It was very last minute.  Jewls had texted me yesterday letting me know that she was going to be in the desert, and wanted to know if I wanted to meet up with her.  Unfortunately I didn't have my phone on me and didn't get her message until late this morning, but we still managed to pull together a visit.  We met at a mutual friend's house who happens to live less than five minutes away from me.  It was so awesome to see her!  We all just hung out and chit-chatted, and I discovered that cranberry-apple juice mixed with sangria is insanely delicious.  I also got to cuddle with Seth again.  Damn I love that kid.  My only complaint about our visit is I had to leave much earlier than I actually wanted.  But as I drove home, I told myself that two hours was a whole lot better than nothing at all; especially since I woke up this morning having no clue I'd get even that much.

When I got home, Clint had stripped all the carpet out of our living room and hallway.  We've been installing new flooring (this was my birthday present), and as of now, Elijah's room and the office are done.  Now we're finally on the main part of the house, which means about two weeks of living on concrete.  Oh, we also repainted our office last week.  Clint wanted "Asian", so I came up with the color scheme, but the colors came out much bolder than I had envisioned in my head.  As I was painting the walls, I was thinking, "Crap, this is going to end up looking like ketchup and mustard walls."  And even though that might have been partially true, it all came together in the end, and now I really love this little room.  In person, it is so warm and cheery.  Here are some pics:

Admittedly the desk is still pretty cluttered...

 

 The new floors (they look better in person--camera dulled them out)

It's sort of fun living on concrete right now.  It feels like we're staying in a house that's still under construction.  When I was a little girl, my grandparents built their house from scratch, and Shannon and I used to live with them on the weekends.  We'd all sleep in their motor home, which they had parked on their lot.  At one point, the house was finally dry-walled, and we actually were able to stay inside the house.  I remember my grandpa used to barbecue our dinner right in the living room, over the concrete.  And we would watch TV...on the concrete.  Shan and I also used to tear through the entire house on our Big Wheels (remember those?).  Living on concrete right now reminds me of those happy days.  The only downfall is I'm stuck wearing slippers everywhere I walk, because the ground is so cold.