My Biggest Pet Peeve


One of my biggest pet peeves is people that park their cars on their front lawn. I think it looks trashy and tasteless.  I grew up in a neighborhood that started out nice with young families but gradually people started parking on their lawns, and then the next thing you know, Rockwood has a reputation for being the white trash neighborhood between Portland and Gresham.  The stigma remains to this day.

Two blocks from my house, a neighbor parks their old orange pickup on their lawn, right under a maple tree.  The poor maple tree is listing to one side, because the truck is sitting on the roots and compacting the soil.  I mentally blow up that truck with my imaginary laser beam vision every time I go past it. 
The truck canopy really pops the Euphorbia martinii.  Don't you agree?

So, you can imagine my surprise when I walked out my front door today and realized that My Pirate’s truck canopy is still sitting on the front lawn.  It’s been there for seven days.  (Gasp!)  I have become my greatest pet peeve. While I was busy enjoying a week of stay-cation with My Pirate and updating the den, our front lawn decoration was bringing down the value of the neighborhood.  Now we are that house that gets targeted in our neighborhood newsletter. 

I’ll tuck the canopy in the garage. While I’m at it, I should probably leave an apology note on my neighbor’s orange pickup truck for mentally blowing up his truck so often.  And bake a batch of cookies to help sweeten up my neighbors.  I’m definitely not going to get a thank you card for our beautiful yard from the neighborhood board this year.  How did I let this happen?  



I Have To Try




“I have one life and one chance to make it count for something . . . I'm free to choose what that something is, and the something I've chosen is my faith. Now, my faith goes beyond theology and religion and requires considerable work and effort. My faith demands -- this is not optional -- my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”              
                                                                                                            -Jimmy Carter




 
 

My Kitchen Window View

I grew up saying the Pledge of Allegiance every school morning.  It started my day.  Even now, as my morning coffee brews, I look out my back kitchen window and look at my neighbor’s flag and say The Pledge of Allegiance.   It still starts my day. 



I catch myself saying the Pledge of Allegiance whenever I’m at my kitchen sink and see the flag.  And I think that I say it more than any normal, sane human being.  My neighbor’s flag is getting a little shabby…I might need to give him a new one, for me to enjoy.





I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, 
and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, 
indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.



Maintenance and Manicures


I’m a low maintenance gal.  I always marveled at all the potions and bottles of beauty products that My Kid used when he was in high school.  I used to tease him that he was a metro-sexual.  That is, until he didn’t know what a cuticle was…even I know that one.

Over the years, I’ve had many loving suggestions from family, friends, and the occasional stranger suggesting that I get a professional manicure and fake nails.  But, I would rather spend the time and money on the garden or cooking something great.  Plus, I simply can’t keep nail polish on my nails.  And where do you think it ends up as it chips off?  In the food I was preparing and the garden.  So, I file my nails every week and scrub my nails with a special brush to keep them clean. 

Because, I don’t need a perfect manicure to feel good.  But a good meal in a beautiful garden, that rocks my world.  

Sunshine and Garden Chores


Today, we knocked out some spring cleaning in our front beds. 


My Pirate helped me trim back our large grasses.  


We filled up our yard debris container. Then, I dusted enough Sluggo on our beds to take out Jabba The Hut.  
 It was so much fun, My Pirate didn't even ask for his requisite bottle of rum.  So I took him to Rib City for lunch.