So I've been kind of busy since my last post. To be fair, it's not so much that I'm busy, but that I somehow have come up pregnant.
Don't look at me that way. I'm a nurse, I know how babies are made. It's just that pretty much every doctor I've interacted with since my daughter was born has told me that it would be nearly impossible for me to get pregnant again. My weight is the first obstacle, and then my polycystic ovaries, and then and then and then. There was a laundry list. Still, Manthing and I were diligent, about 90% of the time. One of the 10% times that were weren't diligent just happened to come on the most fertile day of my cycle last month.
I'm going to be honest and say I assumed I was pregnant as soon as I saw where in my cycle I was (I track like a woman obsessed. See: PCOS). I even went for bloodwork. And the bloodwork said I wasn't pregnant, but apparently that's because it was too early. Because I am definitely pregnant.
Anyhow, 2 babies was in our original plan, but after how sick I was with my first pregnancy, and how horrible the disappointment was when we tried for close to a year for a second when she was 2, we assumed one was all we were getting. And she is a lovely, charming, intelligent and amazing child, so she was definitely enough.
That said? Other than the sheer terror than only a pregnant 37 year old woman would understand, I am happy. I am having another baby!
The nausea has been overwhelming. So far, that is exactly like it was with Girlchild. I am cautiously optimistic that it will not be similar the rest of the pregnancy. I did have gestational diabetes, and I am assuming I will have it again, and to that end have already started tracking my blood sugar. Let me tell you something. iPhones have every app under the sun. I have a glucose tracker app! It can keep up with my ridiculously obsessive tracking, and other than one quirky rude part where it asks my weight every single time I input my sugar, it's lovely (does it really think my weight will change in a 6 hour period?)
So that's the big news.
Onto something else.
I am allergic to onions. When they are raw, they are like stinky balls of instantaneous death. I discovered this allergy when I had an anaphylactic reaction to onions in my early 20s. In my car. While I was driving back from lunch at Subway where my sandwich had a sneaky onion in it. I didn't like onions to begin with, the allergy is probably why, and I don't know that prior to that I'd ever had a raw onion. So there you go. Allergic.
Since then I've discovered that the more onions are cooked, the milder the reaction. So I don't make an enormous fuss if there is onion in something that has been cooked (spaghetti sauce, pot pie etc). Because it's usually cooked to death, and most of whatever I am allergic to has converted into something that is mostly inert. I say mostly because onions, in that wiggly super cooked state still make me nauseated, and cause the WORST gas ever.
The onion allergy means we don't keep them in the house. So when I have 3/4 of a rotisserie chicken from Save-On left over, and want to make soup out of it, I need to improvise.
All the recipes you find on pinterest will tell you to toss 1 rotisserie chicken, 1 onion, celery, etc, blah blah blah into a pot. Well, when you don't keep onions in the house, and you've wakened one morning to discover you are pregnant and don't want to tempt the gods, what's a girl to do? Garlic. And lots of it.
Quite frankly, I think garlic lends a better taste to meats anyhow, so I don't ever feel thwarted by the lack of onion in our diet. We go through a ton of garlic.
So in case you are interested, this is how I make rotisserie chicken soup: chicken, garlic, more garlic, just a touch more garlic, carrots, and water to cover it all. Then simmer overnight, pull the bones and dessicated carrots and nasty blanched out skin the next day, add new carrots, add some peppers, add some of whatever other veg is in your fridge. Toss in some barley or some noodles and cook until ready. Delicious? Hells yes.
You will, of course, (you being the random stranger who makes their way here from Berlin every so often), excuse me for talking more about my pregnancy for the next few months. Because it's hard to be crunchy in the middle of winter, when you need to plan the fastest cheapest renos ever so you can sell your suddenly too small house that doesn't have enough bedrooms before the baby arrives, and you are freezing cold because a) hormones and b) dead of winter in Canada.
Also, I'm taking a course and considering quitting my job to go back to nursing fulltime. That's my other news.
19 December 2012
23 November 2012
The Kijiji files
I don't know if it is because Craig's List took so long to take off in the smaller Canadian markets, or if there's some sort of crazy Kool-Aid we've all partaken of in the north, but where I live, if you want something to sell, it goes on kijiji. I don't know what kijiji means, but kijiji.ca has been a god-send this past year.
One of the things we've been working on (with very very moderate success) is lessening the 'things' in our house. Clearing space. Making our home more tidy. To make our home more tidy, we need to do 2 things: reduce the amount of crap coming in, and reduce the amount of crap that is already there.
I will tackle our consumerism once the house is in order, but this has been a year long project for us, and one that has only recently shown actual marked change. I place the credit on this change squarely on Manthing's broad-ish shoulders. If he hadn't been transferred home, I think I would still be floundering. He's recently caught quite a bug about the kitchen and dining room being clean, and I am not going to fuss about the fact that he ignores the bathroom completely if he's on fire about the kitchen. I can totally take the bathroom bullet.
When he first got home, I made him pull everything out from under the stairs. We went through the mountain of stuff, and put a bunch of it off to one side. I industriously snapped photos on my iPhone, and quickly posted the things on kijiji. Almost everything sold within 24 hours. I think I probably underprice.The big hold out was the moving boxes. But even they eventually sold (and because we broke them into chunks, for more than we'd initially asked). So then there was just a pile of stuff there that needed to be stored again. But instead of just tossing it all back under the stairs, I started to root through it. Did I really need all my cassettes from childhood? Probably not. The babygate? Nope. Etcetera.
So we loaded up the minivan and headed off to charity with a full up cargo hold. Seriously.
Between Kijiji and charity donations, we've cleared a ton of space in our rather-small house. It disturbs me to think of how much was actually in the house at this time last year. We've sold: 2 desks, a dresser, a bookshelf, boxes, baby stuff, a bar, a hutch... I can't actually remember everything we've listed in the last year, it's been that much.
It makes me really stop and realize the effect that rampant consumerism has on our society. We're always looking for something better, something more, something else. And that really needs to stop, on a global scale, but I can't make that change globally. I can, however, make it in my own home. When I am bored and lonely, I go shopping. I need to figure out something I enjoy equally much to do so I am not bringing things we don't need into our home. And I need to continue culling the things that are already taking up precious space inside.
So the cull will continue, and Kijiji will remain one of my best friends for the foreseeable future.
One of the things we've been working on (with very very moderate success) is lessening the 'things' in our house. Clearing space. Making our home more tidy. To make our home more tidy, we need to do 2 things: reduce the amount of crap coming in, and reduce the amount of crap that is already there.
I will tackle our consumerism once the house is in order, but this has been a year long project for us, and one that has only recently shown actual marked change. I place the credit on this change squarely on Manthing's broad-ish shoulders. If he hadn't been transferred home, I think I would still be floundering. He's recently caught quite a bug about the kitchen and dining room being clean, and I am not going to fuss about the fact that he ignores the bathroom completely if he's on fire about the kitchen. I can totally take the bathroom bullet.
When he first got home, I made him pull everything out from under the stairs. We went through the mountain of stuff, and put a bunch of it off to one side. I industriously snapped photos on my iPhone, and quickly posted the things on kijiji. Almost everything sold within 24 hours. I think I probably underprice.The big hold out was the moving boxes. But even they eventually sold (and because we broke them into chunks, for more than we'd initially asked). So then there was just a pile of stuff there that needed to be stored again. But instead of just tossing it all back under the stairs, I started to root through it. Did I really need all my cassettes from childhood? Probably not. The babygate? Nope. Etcetera.
So we loaded up the minivan and headed off to charity with a full up cargo hold. Seriously.
Between Kijiji and charity donations, we've cleared a ton of space in our rather-small house. It disturbs me to think of how much was actually in the house at this time last year. We've sold: 2 desks, a dresser, a bookshelf, boxes, baby stuff, a bar, a hutch... I can't actually remember everything we've listed in the last year, it's been that much.
It makes me really stop and realize the effect that rampant consumerism has on our society. We're always looking for something better, something more, something else. And that really needs to stop, on a global scale, but I can't make that change globally. I can, however, make it in my own home. When I am bored and lonely, I go shopping. I need to figure out something I enjoy equally much to do so I am not bringing things we don't need into our home. And I need to continue culling the things that are already taking up precious space inside.
So the cull will continue, and Kijiji will remain one of my best friends for the foreseeable future.
Domestic Diva... ish.
Since Manthing has come home, our house has been SO much cleaner. I like to think it's because I finally have time to putter about and tidy, but the truth is, Manthing has been the driving force behind the transformation. We had some heated debates the last few times he'd been home because living alone in camps had made him a less-than-optimal housekeeper, and I'm no traditionalist - household chores are both pink AND blue. Particularly the ones I hate, like laundry.
Anyhow, when he first came home, I saw that it was going to be the same shenanigans with regards to pick up, maintenance and cleaning in the house. And while I am not proud to say it, I lost my temper, and reminded him that a home is managed by everyone in it when we all have jobs. I was quite content to have the bulk of the housekeeping left to me when I was staying at home, but in the years I've been back in the workforce, I've found it increasingly disrespectful that a lot of people still seem to think that housekeeping is exclusively under the 'ladychore' department. I work just as hard, for just as long, in just as stressful situations, and I deserve to not have to come home and immediately set to working on chores. This was the gist of my tantrum, and I guess the words finally hit home. Manthing has become completely obsessed with the kitchen. He's been powering through clearing the dross from the fridge (you know the stuff I'm talking about - the expired salad dressings, condiments etc that we all have hiding and taking up precious fridge space), and yesterday he inventoried the pantry cupboard. And then built an excel spreadsheet.
This has freed me up for more important tasks, like <strike>playing computer games and taking naps</strike> cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming, which are both tasks that I'm assuming Manthing hates, as he has always sighed and rolled his eyes about vacuuming and suddenly becomes deaf if I ask him to do anything to clean the bathroom. Cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming are a pretty good trade off for an organized kitchen.
One thing I find quite amusing though is that for all his obsessive tidying and organizing in the kitchen, he never seems to notice if the stovetop is grotesque, and the same goes with the sink. So I pick up those tasks as well - small thing when he's taken on the task of keeping the kitchen otherwise clean.
He also is much better than I am at laundry. I hate doing laundry. With a burny burny passion. Both Manthing and Girlchild are horrible offenders in the 'it wasn't actually dirty but I put it in the laundry anyhow' department, and coupled with a generalized distaste for laundry to begin with, and I suddenly get why my mom and dad lost their bits when they found paired socks in the laundry that was fresh out of the dryer.
Our house is still miles from acceptable, but it's getting better, and every time the manthing grumps about doing chores, I feel obligated to also grump about doing chores, and I think we're getting there. Once we're organized, it will be much easier to be clean and tidy.
So I'm not a diva. Who really is anymore? But I am part of a domestic superteam. And lately I've just been the sidekick. Which is nice for a change.
Anyhow, when he first came home, I saw that it was going to be the same shenanigans with regards to pick up, maintenance and cleaning in the house. And while I am not proud to say it, I lost my temper, and reminded him that a home is managed by everyone in it when we all have jobs. I was quite content to have the bulk of the housekeeping left to me when I was staying at home, but in the years I've been back in the workforce, I've found it increasingly disrespectful that a lot of people still seem to think that housekeeping is exclusively under the 'ladychore' department. I work just as hard, for just as long, in just as stressful situations, and I deserve to not have to come home and immediately set to working on chores. This was the gist of my tantrum, and I guess the words finally hit home. Manthing has become completely obsessed with the kitchen. He's been powering through clearing the dross from the fridge (you know the stuff I'm talking about - the expired salad dressings, condiments etc that we all have hiding and taking up precious fridge space), and yesterday he inventoried the pantry cupboard. And then built an excel spreadsheet.
This has freed me up for more important tasks, like <strike>playing computer games and taking naps</strike> cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming, which are both tasks that I'm assuming Manthing hates, as he has always sighed and rolled his eyes about vacuuming and suddenly becomes deaf if I ask him to do anything to clean the bathroom. Cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming are a pretty good trade off for an organized kitchen.
One thing I find quite amusing though is that for all his obsessive tidying and organizing in the kitchen, he never seems to notice if the stovetop is grotesque, and the same goes with the sink. So I pick up those tasks as well - small thing when he's taken on the task of keeping the kitchen otherwise clean.
He also is much better than I am at laundry. I hate doing laundry. With a burny burny passion. Both Manthing and Girlchild are horrible offenders in the 'it wasn't actually dirty but I put it in the laundry anyhow' department, and coupled with a generalized distaste for laundry to begin with, and I suddenly get why my mom and dad lost their bits when they found paired socks in the laundry that was fresh out of the dryer.
Our house is still miles from acceptable, but it's getting better, and every time the manthing grumps about doing chores, I feel obligated to also grump about doing chores, and I think we're getting there. Once we're organized, it will be much easier to be clean and tidy.
So I'm not a diva. Who really is anymore? But I am part of a domestic superteam. And lately I've just been the sidekick. Which is nice for a change.
31 October 2012
Happy Halloween
Not much to say here tonight - my little girl went out as little red riding hood tonight and scored a dining room table's worth of loot.
I stayed home, where it was warm, and gave out treats. Despite the fact that we live in the city, we only got 14 kids. That was, however, double what we've ever had before. I totally credit the decorations.
So here's what the house looked like to trick or treaters tonight. And yes, that is about a foot of snow. I know I've mentioned I live in Canada before, so this should be no surprise, what with the 9 foot wall of snow at the 49th parallel and all.
So that's Halloween. Something funny: The playlist I put together, and started when we got home this afternoon? It finished as I started washing the windows.
In other news, I am trying to figure out if I need a root canal. I have this broken tooth. And I was a lazy slacker about going and getting it looked at, initially because we had no dental coverage, but then just because I was a slacker. So it started to hurt a lot. I went to the dentist this week and they took x-rays and there was this HUGE crater in my tooth. The dentist said they might need to do a root canal, but in the meantime, he was putting a medicated filling in and hopefully that would work. I still am having pain, but I'm wondering if it's just typical 'just saw the dentist pain', or if it's this bad tooth of mine. Until then, I am able to eat and drink like a normal person again finally, so am happily chugging water and taking ibuprophen to make the pain stop.
More tomorrow after I dig myself out from under the Halloween stuff that needs to be put away.
I stayed home, where it was warm, and gave out treats. Despite the fact that we live in the city, we only got 14 kids. That was, however, double what we've ever had before. I totally credit the decorations.
So here's what the house looked like to trick or treaters tonight. And yes, that is about a foot of snow. I know I've mentioned I live in Canada before, so this should be no surprise, what with the 9 foot wall of snow at the 49th parallel and all.
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| The graveyard Greg put out when he got home from work tonight. |
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| The overall look. The white blobs along the driveway are ghosty lights. They were a clearance bargain at Canadian Tire last week! |
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| Family Pumpkins. Mine is the one on the left. Miss F's is the one in the middle, and Greg's is the wee terrified looking one on the right. Greg's was grown in our garden! |
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| Interior of the house. Just for us to enjoy :) |
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| The desk at the top of the stairs. |
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| The dining room window. Yes. I painted that. |
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| The living room window. I painted this one too. |
So that's Halloween. Something funny: The playlist I put together, and started when we got home this afternoon? It finished as I started washing the windows.
In other news, I am trying to figure out if I need a root canal. I have this broken tooth. And I was a lazy slacker about going and getting it looked at, initially because we had no dental coverage, but then just because I was a slacker. So it started to hurt a lot. I went to the dentist this week and they took x-rays and there was this HUGE crater in my tooth. The dentist said they might need to do a root canal, but in the meantime, he was putting a medicated filling in and hopefully that would work. I still am having pain, but I'm wondering if it's just typical 'just saw the dentist pain', or if it's this bad tooth of mine. Until then, I am able to eat and drink like a normal person again finally, so am happily chugging water and taking ibuprophen to make the pain stop.
More tomorrow after I dig myself out from under the Halloween stuff that needs to be put away.
29 October 2012
Pro-active rather than reactive
One of the things I determined was important to my general well-being was that I start being more pro-active about my health. To that end, 18 months ago, I started tracking my food intake. I've been a big girl my entire life, and while I mostly like myself, I do have a lot of fat-shame. More importantly than the fat-shame, I have a child who needs a role model. She's going to be tall, and she's going to be strong and healthy, and I want her to know that healthy and strong are not bad things for a little girl to be, but I also want her to know how to plan a healthy meal, and healthy snacks, and get plenty of exercise because those things will allow her to stay healthy.
So I started to think about my health. I've had arthritis since I was 12. I had gestational diabetes, which puts me at risk for type 2 diabetes. I have a history of cancer and stroke in my family. I needed to take control of my health, and do whatever I could to minimize those risks.
Back to the food tracking. I'd been unsuccessful at weight watchers about a million times. I'd recently gone through a 16 week period where I attended and logged faithfully and lost 3 pounds. Total. I was beginning to think there was something physiologically wrong with me.
One of my girlfriends had been using myfitnesspal.com to track her weight loss journey, and so I thought to myself, "Self, if there is truly something wrong with you, you need evidence. You need to track your intake diligently, so that you can take that data in to the doctor and say 'look, this is what I eat, and I am either gaining or maintaining this unhealthy weight.' You need to have evidence because medicine is about evidence."
I started tracking. I didn't get on a scale for the first two weeks, but I tracked. And one day I noticed my pants were a little bit roomier. So I got on a scale. And I chose that as my starting weight. It has been 16 months since then, and guess what? There's nothing physiologically wrong with me. I have yet to see my doctor to wave my 'evidence' in his face and demand answers.
Because I've lost over 50 pounds.
After about 6 weeks, I realized that weight watchers just wasn't working for me for whatever reason, and that this calorie counting business was. And I went with it. If I'd remained as diligent as I was the first three months, I'd probably be down 80 or 90 pounds by now, but I'm operating on 2 principles: 1) Life is meant to be lived and that means sometimes I have ice cream and 2) if it comes off slowly, it means I am finally changing my eating habits, and I will finally be successful in keeping this weight off, and the yo-yo dieting will end.
So now my goal is to lose another 50 pounds over the next year or so. And then I'll be just a little bit heavier than I was when I graduated from high school 20 years ago. I think I can do it, and I hope I am teaching my daughter determination and strength as well as teaching her how to eat healthy.
P.S. There are 2 posts up at the writing blog (http://superheronightgown.blogspot.ca/)
So I started to think about my health. I've had arthritis since I was 12. I had gestational diabetes, which puts me at risk for type 2 diabetes. I have a history of cancer and stroke in my family. I needed to take control of my health, and do whatever I could to minimize those risks.
Back to the food tracking. I'd been unsuccessful at weight watchers about a million times. I'd recently gone through a 16 week period where I attended and logged faithfully and lost 3 pounds. Total. I was beginning to think there was something physiologically wrong with me.
One of my girlfriends had been using myfitnesspal.com to track her weight loss journey, and so I thought to myself, "Self, if there is truly something wrong with you, you need evidence. You need to track your intake diligently, so that you can take that data in to the doctor and say 'look, this is what I eat, and I am either gaining or maintaining this unhealthy weight.' You need to have evidence because medicine is about evidence."
I started tracking. I didn't get on a scale for the first two weeks, but I tracked. And one day I noticed my pants were a little bit roomier. So I got on a scale. And I chose that as my starting weight. It has been 16 months since then, and guess what? There's nothing physiologically wrong with me. I have yet to see my doctor to wave my 'evidence' in his face and demand answers.
Because I've lost over 50 pounds.
After about 6 weeks, I realized that weight watchers just wasn't working for me for whatever reason, and that this calorie counting business was. And I went with it. If I'd remained as diligent as I was the first three months, I'd probably be down 80 or 90 pounds by now, but I'm operating on 2 principles: 1) Life is meant to be lived and that means sometimes I have ice cream and 2) if it comes off slowly, it means I am finally changing my eating habits, and I will finally be successful in keeping this weight off, and the yo-yo dieting will end.
So now my goal is to lose another 50 pounds over the next year or so. And then I'll be just a little bit heavier than I was when I graduated from high school 20 years ago. I think I can do it, and I hope I am teaching my daughter determination and strength as well as teaching her how to eat healthy.
P.S. There are 2 posts up at the writing blog (http://superheronightgown.blogspot.ca/)
28 October 2012
Recycling Excitement
The shame of living in a small city in central British Columbia is the ass-tastic lack of recycling options. Our local regional district offers paper, cardboard and metal can recycling, but not glass, and not plastic. Since everything in the universe is made of plastic, it really wasn't reducing our footprint.
I thought I'd struck gold when I found a private curbside recycling place. But dude wanted to put me on a waitlist! So that kind of sucked. What also sucked was that he never phoned me back about anything. Jerk.
Eventually, through Facebook, I noticed a friend of a friend talking about her private recycling guy. And I did a few hours of research (seriously, dude was hard to find) and tracked the guy down. So now, for just less than 12 bucks a month, we have a guy come and take away our recyclables, including glass and plastic. YAY.
We had the smallest can the city gave us anyhow because we're pretty good composters, and have been pretty diligent about the cardboard. But now? We have 1 Glad Kitchen-Catcher a week! Manthing's attacked the project with an unnerving zeal, and even the munchkin is getting in on the act.
I feel like we're actually making a difference. And then, next year, when we go even more hardcore and relocate the compost to somewhere closer, I'll be feeling even more excited about it all.
I thought I'd struck gold when I found a private curbside recycling place. But dude wanted to put me on a waitlist! So that kind of sucked. What also sucked was that he never phoned me back about anything. Jerk.
Eventually, through Facebook, I noticed a friend of a friend talking about her private recycling guy. And I did a few hours of research (seriously, dude was hard to find) and tracked the guy down. So now, for just less than 12 bucks a month, we have a guy come and take away our recyclables, including glass and plastic. YAY.
We had the smallest can the city gave us anyhow because we're pretty good composters, and have been pretty diligent about the cardboard. But now? We have 1 Glad Kitchen-Catcher a week! Manthing's attacked the project with an unnerving zeal, and even the munchkin is getting in on the act.
I feel like we're actually making a difference. And then, next year, when we go even more hardcore and relocate the compost to somewhere closer, I'll be feeling even more excited about it all.
26 October 2012
Whoops.
What the what? I have a blog??
I totally forgot. No, that's not true. I got busy saving the world as a member of a super secret government initiative that adequately utilizes my super-pow-- you're not going to believe that either, are you.
I just lost the joy of writing. Again. This seems to be happening more and more to me, except all of a sudden I'm having these massively detailed dreams which I suspect might be stories trying to escape and make it on their own. I also have a huge to-do list, not the least of which includes decorating for halloween this weekend. I also have some commissions to work on, a disgusting house and some personal projects that I suspect will bring me huge amounts of angst as well as joy. So there's that.
The garden became a garden of neglect. It was super weedy thanks to Manthing's insistence on putting weeds in the compost. I don't weed. I also apparently need a watering timer because I would forget to water for days upon days and then water for 24 hours straight because I forgot I turned the damn tap on. We got 1 beautiful pumpkin out of the garden, and an enormous amount of tomatoes and carrots. The potatoes had what I thought was potato scab but after being out of the ground for 2 days they rotted and made the most horrifying smell I've ever encountered from something that came out of the ground, so I think it must have been blight. Which would make sense because of my Irish ancestry. Or something.
The peas... the poor sad peas. I never got around to stringing them up so the squirrels loved them. And the squirrels also loved my zucchini, which were appropriately enormous, and still growing when the little bastards started to nosh on them.
But here's the good news! Manthing secured a transfer home on October 1st, so guess who won't be responsible for the veggie garden of cruel neglect again? ME! I will tend my remedy garden (the third attempt!) and mind the pumpkins because they are my favourite and leave the rest to him.
I should talk about remedies now. I learned myself how to make a sore muscle salve this summer. I thought it worked quite well, and it also worked for me as a bruise salve, so I made some more and gave some away. Then one of my friends blew out his knee, and I gave him a tiny container (because tiny was all I had on hand in the moment) and he said it worked better than the store bought stuff he had! So I made him more, and he still loved it! So I had one test subject who thought my sore muscle salve worked well - after his MRI, it turned out that he has a torn meniscus and possible ACL tear, so knowing it helped an injury that bad made my heart happy.
I was chatting up one of the women I work with and she was having a hard time with her elbow, so I brought some in for her too. And she said she used it for a few days and then was fine. <i>It actually cured her pain</i>.
To say I was pretty stoked would be an understatement. I was thrilled to bits. So now I know what people are getting for Hexmas! With the success of my antiseptic ointment as well as the sore muscle salve, there's going to be some home remedies in everyone's stockings.
So that's my crunchy update. My other news is that I may have to start a new writing blog because I have these tales rolling around in my head...
I totally forgot. No, that's not true. I got busy saving the world as a member of a super secret government initiative that adequately utilizes my super-pow-- you're not going to believe that either, are you.
I just lost the joy of writing. Again. This seems to be happening more and more to me, except all of a sudden I'm having these massively detailed dreams which I suspect might be stories trying to escape and make it on their own. I also have a huge to-do list, not the least of which includes decorating for halloween this weekend. I also have some commissions to work on, a disgusting house and some personal projects that I suspect will bring me huge amounts of angst as well as joy. So there's that.
The garden became a garden of neglect. It was super weedy thanks to Manthing's insistence on putting weeds in the compost. I don't weed. I also apparently need a watering timer because I would forget to water for days upon days and then water for 24 hours straight because I forgot I turned the damn tap on. We got 1 beautiful pumpkin out of the garden, and an enormous amount of tomatoes and carrots. The potatoes had what I thought was potato scab but after being out of the ground for 2 days they rotted and made the most horrifying smell I've ever encountered from something that came out of the ground, so I think it must have been blight. Which would make sense because of my Irish ancestry. Or something.
The peas... the poor sad peas. I never got around to stringing them up so the squirrels loved them. And the squirrels also loved my zucchini, which were appropriately enormous, and still growing when the little bastards started to nosh on them.
But here's the good news! Manthing secured a transfer home on October 1st, so guess who won't be responsible for the veggie garden of cruel neglect again? ME! I will tend my remedy garden (the third attempt!) and mind the pumpkins because they are my favourite and leave the rest to him.
I should talk about remedies now. I learned myself how to make a sore muscle salve this summer. I thought it worked quite well, and it also worked for me as a bruise salve, so I made some more and gave some away. Then one of my friends blew out his knee, and I gave him a tiny container (because tiny was all I had on hand in the moment) and he said it worked better than the store bought stuff he had! So I made him more, and he still loved it! So I had one test subject who thought my sore muscle salve worked well - after his MRI, it turned out that he has a torn meniscus and possible ACL tear, so knowing it helped an injury that bad made my heart happy.
I was chatting up one of the women I work with and she was having a hard time with her elbow, so I brought some in for her too. And she said she used it for a few days and then was fine. <i>It actually cured her pain</i>.
To say I was pretty stoked would be an understatement. I was thrilled to bits. So now I know what people are getting for Hexmas! With the success of my antiseptic ointment as well as the sore muscle salve, there's going to be some home remedies in everyone's stockings.
So that's my crunchy update. My other news is that I may have to start a new writing blog because I have these tales rolling around in my head...
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