Magpies and Mosquitoes

           I remember seeing Magpies when I was younger.  Occasionally I would notice one or two – never an entire flock!  I thought they were a very interesting and beautiful bird.  I didn’t know that magpies are dirty birds with thieving habits.  I still don’t know much about them. 

           They must have flown here from Colorado as I have seen more magpies this year than in the first fifty combined. I now feel the same annoyance toward them that I feel toward mosquitoes. If the Magpies would just leave our gardens alone and go after the mosquitoes, Jenna and I would be willing to call the Magpies our friends.

            Poor Jenna.  She’s received four to six times as many bug bites as I have.  Her blood must be succulent like Patrick’s.  No matter how many precautions we take, the mosquitoes have ignored and attack anyway.  One might think we have been camping in the wilderness and not receive them in our house in the city.   I never put a sign in my yard that said: “All Magpies and Mosquitoes welcome!  Please!  Come help yourself to whatever!” Those varmints are NOT WELCOME.!  Let’s get rid of them ALL.!

Comparing Roland to Uncle Lynn

             My aunt Alice was 32 when she announced her engagement to Lynn Brown. Grandma Helen had a problem with it – I think her suspicions must have spread. He was okay.  I tried not to pass judgment on him.  He was an odd fellow.  But in time I could understand.

            Of course Corey had his own reasons for not wanting to like him.  I don’t recall how old he was. Nine, I think.  He was already suspicious of any man who wore sunglasses or a beard or who had a bald head.  Uncle Lynn happened to have all three. 

            His mom gave birth to four boys before him.  I don’t recall how many years are between Lynn and the others – but it seems like it was six or more.  His mom had wanted a girl. She had planned for a girl.  She had picked out the name Lynnette Darcy Brown – and that is what it says on his birth certificate.  

            Lynn’s mom is ODD.  I don’t know that she always had been – but something happened .  I don’t know how old Lynn was when he went into foster care or why or for how long.  I don’t know how often he saw his mom – if they lived in different states or what.  I’m not certain why I know what little information I do have.  But I know he was living with another family when he graduated from high school.  Lynn’s mother actually reminded me of the mother that had abused her daughter Sybil  – not that I suspected her of having abused – perhaps it was the actress who had portrayed Sybil’s mother   

              Aunt Alice passed away.  She and Lynn had four boys together.  The eldest was a senior in high school when Aunt Alice passed.  The family seemed to distrust Uncle Lynn even more as he had cheated us out of an inheritance and seems to continue to swindle and bribe.  But I don’t know the full details.  It could have just been bad investment on his part.  
 

            I think my sibs may think of Roland the same way as they do my Uncle – or at least my brothers anyway.  Kayla and I are in the same financial boat married to husbands who like to spend – though it is usually for the benefit of others.  Kayla has NEVER been a materialistic – not that my brothers are – but they do have more insight to finances and expenses than do either Kayla or I.

           Roland doesn’t swindle and cheat intentionally.  Sometimes his investments are not as great as he had hoped for.  Not his fault that the economy went caput.  I do think he handled his divorce poorly however – and the courts in Utah have been totally unfair.  Therefore we have struggled.  He doesn’t have the best track record for finances.  I don’t suppose either one of us do.  But I don’t believe he’s anything like Uncle Lynn.  But I know my brothers don’t trust either one with money.  And I do understand.

I find it somewhat ironic

           I believe that Corey was still in high school when he was asked to participate in a program that was being presented to the stake Relief Society.  As I recall he was playing a reporter and had to interview many different women who played an important part in Church history.

            He’d been invited to stay for the luncheon, which would follow the program.  I don’t think he had ever been to an RS luncheon before.  The portions were smaller than usual – the luncheon committee hadn’t planned on quite so many people.

            Corey downed his food in nothing flat – believing that it was just an appetizer and wondered when the main course would be served.  Corey was highly disappointed when we told him that was it.  No seconds. No leftovers.  We went out to lunch after we left the Church.

            I don’t know who’s idea it has been that RS sisters are all petite and that we’d never gorge and that we can make a feast out of what many wouldn’t even consider enough food to be a snack. Oh, yes, I know when the RS first started and when the pioneers were crossing the plains and when early settlers were growing their own crops and they didn’t have access to Twinkies or candy bars, they were thinner and more petite.  But I’ve got news to share with committees of the present.  A half gallon of ice cream was not designed to feed 12-18 sisters while it would only serve 2-4 elders.  Hey, some of the sisters have appetites, too.  Some of us could put some elders to shame with our appetites – okay maybe not elders – but high priests. 

            So last night there was an enrichment (a monthly Relief Society gathering) to sample and submit recipes for a ward cook book.  I brought Calico beans.  There were a few other entre items and rolls.  But mostly there were desserts. 

            That’s all that I took were samples.  I did not do any major pigging out until after I knew every sister had eaten.  Attendance was great.  How could there have possibly been so much leftover food?   I was full.  Beyond full.  I had to try everything.  I found it ironic that I walked away from a “sampling” with a full stomach than I have from any RS lunch or dinner.  Though I do recall having the opportunity for seconds in this ward.  One of the greatest things about my short lived calling to be on the activities committee was taking home leftovers.  Our RS president at the time was  (and still is) a great cook.  And she loved doing it.

Unbelievable

Biff does not have common sense about money management – but than it’s not as if he’s had fine examples to follow.  Roland and I have borrowed money from all four of our children.  We’ve also paid back with interest.  Except for Randy – who will constantly remind us whether we actually made a deal with him or not.

Randy is a go getter.  He found someone to buy the reject truck that nobody else in the family wanted – leaving Biff carless once again.  Biff had enough money to for a down payment on another car and to build his credit back up again – only when the time came to purchase, he had considerably less money.  Randy was ticked.  Where did it go?  How do you spend that much money?

I don’t know what Randy was thinking to co-sign for Biff.  Nor do I understand what Biff was thinking to let him.  But the car remains parked in front of our house – unregistered.  Biff still is not managing wisely.  I don’t know how to help him understand.

Then yesterday Roland came to me and said that Biff had purchased an airline ticket so that he could go visit “his girlfriend” Hailey.  Who the heck is Hailey?

Now I have learned just because Roland uses the word “girlfriend” does not make it so.  Roland doesn’t believe in platonic relationships.  That’s crazy.  It’s also crazy to go to another state on a gamble.  But Roland doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.  He said he would be willing to travel the distance for me.  Biff probably knows more about Hailey than Roland knew about me when he proposed.

I had heard Biff refer to Hailey once before.  Only once though.  And it was a different Hailey from the 10-20 that are facebook friends with Randy.  But still . . .

Biff also plans on visiting his brother, Tony.  I’m betting that Tony and Hailey live in two different parts of the state.  And Roland is betting that Biff will be calling us when he runs out of money.  I wonder if Biff will actually look for work while he’s down there.  I wonder how long his car will sit in front of the house before it is towed away.

It’s a nice car, actually.  I wouldn’t mind trading the car I drive for it – the car that’s got a dent on the side and faulty electronics.  I feel quite blessed to have it though.  I may have mentioned on two different posts actually.  Aside from its faults, my car can still get me from here to there – and even farther (as Biff has proved)

He’s going to Texas.  I wonder what arrangements he has made to get himself to the airport.

If These Little Vampires Carry Disease . . . We Are in Big Trouble

I rarely ever have the covers on when I’m asleep – regardless of the season.  Roland is the opposite.  He is usually all bundled up.  When I see him without blankets, I know it is hot.

The weather on Friday was so awesome!  It looked like summer outside, but it felt like fall. 

            The grass is dry.  Our grass is always dry.  I worry about it each year there have been fires, and spend more time trying to douse our lawn with moisture.

            I recall going camping when I was younger.  The weather in the mountains is a lot cooler than the city. I remember one year when we went with the neighbors across the street.  Their youngest boy was less than a year.  The mosquitoes would attack him along with my brother Patrick, has always had delicious blood.  The center contacts him every other month to come donate.  He can donate to babies.  That kind of blood is rare.

          Off used to have a commercial in which ordinary people would put their hands in a mosquito filled container to retrieve money – and if the subject was bit he or she would supposedly get to keep the money.  I always felt like Patrick should be a contestant and rake in a fortune – but than he’d probably just end up spending on medical bills to get rid of the damage the mosquitoes left him with.

            Mosquitoes used to come from miles around to feast on Patrick’s blood.  He could use and entire can of repellant and I could stand next to him without protection and the mosquitoes would always go after him.  Mosquitoes were willing to sacrifice the horrid taste and damage of the repellant just to get to Patrick’s blood.  
 

            One year we went on a family outing, and though the showers were not incredibly far from the cabin, Patrick would be covered with mosquitos when he returned.  It almost looked like moving hair.  His comment was, “Oh, just what I want to do – shower off with water and then bathe in repellant before I return.”

            Lately the animals have been feasting on my left arm, hand and fingers – as if it has been the only part of me that they’ve had access to.  Though my bites are minimal compared to Jenna.  I don’t remember having all these mosquitoes flying in and attacking us last year.  And why aren’t they going after Roland?  His blood is the kind that can be donated to babies, too.

I might get a phone call once or twice a year asking me to donate.  I know that they are desperate when I get called. My blood is put on the shelf with a note: use only when there is no other alternative.  I always believed that if mosquitoes went after my blood, that they would die.  I hope they all do.  I am so tired of the itch that makes me feel like I slept with fiberglass.  Get rid of these pesky mosquitos.  I bet that’s how plants feel about weeds and birds.

Another Book Review: Charlotte’s Rose

 

“Charlotte’s Rose” is written by A.E. Cannon – who’s evidently written a few children’s books. Charlotte’s Rose is a historical fiction and can be found in the juvenile fiction.

It is told in first person through the eyes of a girl named Charlotte Edwards who has left Wales to travel across the plains of the US territory with her father in order to end up in Ogden, Utah.  They take a boat from Europe to Boston and a train from Boston to Iowa city where they are given handcarts and a weight limit on all possessions.

Charlotte goes from being a girl to becoming a woman – not necessarily just physical change but in Spiritual and emotional growth as she travels across the plains with a newborn she didn’t realize would be so much work.  She learns about compassion, community and sacrifice. 

At the end of the book there is the author’s note and references. What impressed me the most is that so many of the facts are true. 

I also like the 15 questions that follow the author’s note.  They are pitched to the reader and remind me quite a bit of the questions that Jenna and I ask one another as we pull out questions from the Ungame or journal jars which I mention here and here.

I wish Jenna had been more interested in this book – and one day she will. 

You’ve got to be kidding me

I had once heard a commentary that if you kill a spider, at least three more will show up for its funeral.  My husband said that isn’t true.  But it sounds accurate to me.

I went out to the garden on Tuesday.  I weeded so much of it.  I can actually tell the grass blades from the onions now.  But it’s not the naughty grass blades or even the net from this post that now give me trouble.  It’s the blasted pigweed that I wrote about in this post over a year ago.  

 

It’s back – right after I got rid of it – I couldn’t believe the growth that had taken place overnight.  I kid you not.  It had completely grown back (and then some) overnight and I have come up with even more uncouth descriptions of the pigweed that seems to live up to my first paragraph – only a pigweed instead of a spider with over 500 funeral attenders.  Give me a break. 

At first I did not realize that it was pig weed as I have never seen it quite that small before.  It’s easy to pull – but still.  Is that really how I want to spend my summer?  Pulling roots every single day?  The answer is NO – as previously mentioned, I don’t even want to be outside if it’s over 72 degrees out.

The first pigweed came up in the row of beets.  Excitedly I wondered if it was a beet and had gone to the computer in search of images that might show leaves of newly sprouted beets or pigweed.  Turned out to be the latter.  I found this picture among my search.

Perhaps I should it as it can be grown without my even trying.  For step by step instructions at click here.

Oh, how I wish our produce would grow like pigweed!  How amazing that would be to pull one tomato from the vine only to have ten more hanging there the following day, and then 80 and 400.  We’d only have to plant one of each plant and still have plenty because it would be growing rapidly as pigweed and we actually might not be able to keep up with it.  But there would be plenty to share with the neighbors who are in condos and do not have land for their own gardens.