Well, I got my hair cut. Short. Super short. I wanted something different. Something sassy and easy to care for. I like it.

One of my friends has a birthday tomorrow so I was trying really hard to do something silly for her birthday. I sent a message with happy birthday in teeny tiny letters. Then I sent another one in a larger font and had it delayed in sending until tonite at seven I think. Hee hee this is going to be good. Send another one in larger font to be delivered at 9 tonite. Send another in larger font for early tomorrow morning. Giggle. I can just hear her wondering what I am up to. Now for the grand finale!!!! LARGE font with lots of !!!!! and the Beatles singing "It's your birthday!!! Send. Yay yah, oops. I forgot to delay the sending. She got that message right after the first teeny tiny font happy birthday. So much for cleverness. Can I blame it on menopause?

Raspberry jelly

I know where the name comes from. Those vines are like rasps. They can really scratch.

I have a question. Why was I out picking raspberries for jelly making on a day that is supposed to get in the 90's?

Am I still a fan of berries or have the old memories of yesteryear come crashing back on me? It is up in the air. I have a feeling that picking berries in the heat of the day may be sort of like child birth. Now I know that is an odd analogy but the memory of childbirth fades over time and I have a feeling that the memory of the scratchy, itchy, hot work fades too by the time the next berry season rolls around. If it didn't I think that there might be fewer kids and less berry picking. :-)

I myself had very easy labors compared to other stories that I heard. You know the ones of endless hours of labor? My labor with my first born started around midnight and he was born at around 7 the next morning. My second son was even faster. In fact the doctor didn't even have time to wash his hands before the little one popped out and was literally caught in mid air.

I always swore I would never be one of those women that sat around telling horror stories to younger women about the ordeal of childbirth. It scared the soup out of me when I was a young bride. Maybe being childless wouldn't be so bad. Luckily after 7 years of marriage and the fact that my younger sister gave birth to a healthy boy and survived, I decided to go for it.

Now my children are my joys and I couldn't imagine my life without them. I guess I just answered my question too. I was out there picking berries for the love of my family and the chance to give them something that I made for them with the sweat of my brow (and all other body parts) and the love in my heart for them. I think that is where a lot of things begin.

We come full circle.

Strawberries

I just got the most wonderful strawberries! A little roadside stand on Highway 34 just East of I-5. They are what strawberries should taste like. I had forgotten how good the sun ripened sweet strawberries were. We had shortcake and I found myself relishing every bite. No added sugar, just berries, yellow pound cake and whipped cream out of the can.

It is only in my later years that I have actually developed an affinity for berries. They were OK. I liked them but I seem to want to grow them now. I put strawberry plants in my green house and I think that I will covet each and every runner and develop a patch outside maybe. Course the birds will "relish" that. I also have blueberry bushes and I have finally started to keep them well hydrated so they will produce. Wonderful!!! And raspberries. I bought two plants and am excited that they are spreading. More! More glorious berries. Then there are the Marion berries that I also planted in the same area. Haven't had any berries off of them yet. I am looking forward to berry pies, jams, fresh berry compote, etc.

Probably one reason I was not overjoyed with berries before was that I grew up in the era when kids went out in the fields and worked all summer for their school clothes. Now days there are too many conditions and I don't think kids are into that physical labor anymore.

As soon as school was out we picked strawberries throughout June, raspberries in July and beans in August until school started. Our yearly vacation was to go down to California to visit relatives. Guess what. When the cousins got old enough they went out and picked boysenberries so we "got" to with them and pick too!! Oh joy. Come home with a fist full of stickers and some cash.

That is if we didn't spend it on clothes at the Goodwill. California had huge Goodwill stores and that was part of the ritual. Go and tactfully try to tell my grandmother why I was not interested in the "lovely brown frock from the 30's" that she was holding up. I had to wear a pair of my mother's old "granny shoes" in 5th grade because we didn't have the money for a new pair. Dad may have been on strike at the mill or it may have been when he was laid up after an automobile accident. Any ways I didn't die from it.

So, here I am again. This could become habit forming. 

Today I am trying my hand at adding photos. These are my cats:

Callie:

Original huh? She is a sweet cat.

She and Sadie are sisters or so I was told. I got them as a result of their owner having to go into a nursing home and my kids not wanting them to go to a shelter. Remember, I am  a soft touch. 

Sadie:

She is a shy sweet cat. She will not generally let you touch her unless she is pretty sure you will not try to pick her up. If she wants to be petted, she lets you know. Otherwise you don't see her. She is very timid. Sweet but timid.

YoYo:

This is my trouble maker. She was abandoned and nearly starved when I first saw her eating out of my scrap bucket out on the porch. My husband took her down to the barn because he is afraid I will become a "crazy cat lady". This could be a serious threat I admit. The barn is a half mile away. He thought she would make a nice barn cat "down there". She had other ideas, hence her name. She beat him "home up here". 

She is the instigator and the rebel rouser. She elicits hisses and scowls from the other two. She wants to play? Maybe. Sometimes yes, other times I think she just wants to get a rise out of the other two. I would love to have her cuddle with me and let me pet her. She has the softest fur. So, who does she choose to curl up with night after night? Yup. The dude that tried to relocate her. Not the person that feeds her. Oh well. She is curled up on the paper shredder in the office right now. She dozes while I blog and she does let me pick her up unlike Sadie but I am not her first choice when it comes to soft warm laps to wile away the afternoon or evening with. Could have something to do with the fact that I tend to jump up periodically to "do stuff". Dishes, computer, etc. Curt mainly stays put. Watches TV, dozes. I guess they make a good pair. She keeps his lap warm and he gives her a stable dozing area with fewer interruptions. 

My Greenhouse:

I LOVE my greenhouse. I am so glad that I finally have one. I go out and tinker in it most every night after I get home from work. Just noticed this is the back view. Hold on. Let me see if I can find a picture of the front.

This is the front and this is a gorgeous bougainvillea (thank Heaven for spell check) that lives in my green house.  I also have strawberries and veggies and herbs. 

Okay, I guess it is time to go "do something". 

I am back from Bend. My son and daughter-in-law moved so I went over to help. They both thanked me profusely and I told them I liked doing it. Not exactly the truth I confess. I do like being with them and helping. It is the actual physical exertion required by the verb move. Up stairs and down stairs. Up stairs and down stairs. It was neat though to see them happy in their new home that they just purchased. Maybe with purchasing they will stay in one spot? 

The things we do as parents for the love of our children. I figure I am depositing into the bank because you know that I am going to need help one day. I have already collected some by having them put up my greenhouse for me.  Oh, one good thing about the new house - single level home. Very nice.

Hi, Cat. I was totally thunderstruck to see that you found me. My first (and probably only) follower. I am honored seeing how it was reading your blog (btw last posts were wonderful!!) that got me started with my ramblings, uh I mean blogs. 

First time for everything

Okay, I am editing my first blog. It consisted of the title. I hit the enter button and the next thing I know, voila!!! You have posted your first blog. Uh, oops. Well practice will make perfect right? I mean actually the only reason I find myself here is that I have a friend that blogs on this site and I enjoy reading her posts so much and I was only going to comment on her blog. I had to have a Google account. Okay. Type in my email address, choose a password and create one. Simple enough. Except it seems that I have already created one. Just can't remember the password. Check to see if perchance I wrote it down. No. Okay, request a password reset. Done. Next day. There is the option to reset in my inbox. And so the story unfolds. Lead right down the old path to bloggerdom. It should be interesting. Not sure exactly what will come of it but it will be a journey of if nothing else the rambling thoughts of a soon to be 60 year old woman. She sometimes envisions herself as a hippy, a free spirit but in reality is tethered to the mundane. This is okay because she has had her fill of the drama and upheaval of life. Oooh, wonder why the 3rd person is being used. I will have to think about that. I can psychoanalyze why I choose to be a 3rd and not #1. Like I said, ramblings.