Monday, September 21, 2009

In the Garden Grows...

Yesterday I spent several hours (broken into many 5 - 25 minute intervals, as I was frequently interrupted by one of the other 5 family members) weeding, pruning, and clipping the landscaping around our yard. I love nothing more that being outside in the dirt; planting, harvesting (and i use that term lightly), or getting ready for next year. I think of the three older kids, Brady has inherited my zeal for gardening. Whenever I am out there, he's right next to me, trowel and seeds usually in hand (whether or not it's actually planting season).

Fortunately, my neighbors tolerate my efforts (at least no one has mentioned anything yet). I don't think the HOA would be thrilled with my hodge-podge landscape design, not that I really care what they think. It's my postage stamp sized piece of land, and I'll do with it what I please. So we plant all kinds of things and see what grows here in NC (and in my case, what doesn't).

So far, the kids and I have planted 4 blueberry bushes, 1 strawberry plant, 2 blackberry plants and 1 raspberry plant (that have gone mad along the side of the house), rosemary, mint (here's a helpful tip since mojitos are so fashionable now...IF you plant mint, PLANT IT IN A CONTAINER - I didn't.), tomatoes, hot peppers, green peppers, jalapeno peppers, zucchini, yellow squash, oregano, basil, cilantro, chives, and thyme. And those are just the edible things... Add to that, black eyed Susans, Shasta Daisies, Purple Cone flower, St Johns Wort, peonies, snapdragons (that somehow came back from last year along with some vinca), periwinkle, and a fig tree (that didn't make it), and you can get a pretty good visual of the mix of vegetation surrounding our home. We've had some resounding successes, and more than a few disappointments, but few things match the delighted squeals from the kids as they discover that the berries are ripe for the picking (or eating). Even better is when they save a few of the best ones and bring them in to share with me.

As I was pruning yesterday, I found a little patch of carrots growing amidst the irises and day lilies in the bed next to our garage, several varieties of random flowers in two other beds (that I think match the pictures on some seed packets I bought last spring but never could find to plant), and some type of squashy/melon-ish vine - with nothing on it (I think it had some type of blossom rot).

I started pulling up the carrots. When I realized that there were anorexic little orange nubs growing at the end of the "weeds" I was pulling, I stopped, and chuckled to myself. I had no idea that Brady had even planted carrots, much less the other assorted varieties of flowers I stumbled upon.

I had to smile as I came across these little surprises. It was a special joy to see one of my kids taking up an activity that I love to do (although may not be so good at) and making it their own.

And why not bury some seeds in the dirt next to the driveway to see what comes up?

While I'd love to plant a proper garden someday and show them some seeds, a little hard work, and a bit of cooperation from Mother Nature can result in a bountiful harvest, for now we'll have to settle for our couple of pints of berries (what is left for us by the birds) and an assortment of vegetables and herbs. I think they're getting the basic idea.

I left the carrots in the dirt by the driveway for Brady to pull out another day. Perhaps we'll be lucky enough to have a tomato ready on the vine by then and we can make a salad. What a nice home grown treat that would be.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

So far so good...

The exterminator came today. I think he was able to wratchet up Mark's level of disgust, which until now, had been much less than I'd expected.

The exterminator, David, determined that they were German Roaches. The kind you don't want. I suppose that assumes that there is a kind of roach that you don't mind having...but whatever. He said that is was a good sign that we haven't seen any more living roaches since Tuesday night. Although he didn't feel a treatment was warranted today (for a variety of reasons, which if anyone cares to know, I'll be happy to share), he told me to call immediately if we see any more.

He confirmed that the tripod should be wrapped in a garbage bag and thrown away. This was never in question for me, but Mark had been insisting that we treat it and keep it. In fact, he thought I was being a bit extreme in my determination to get rid of it. After David opened up one of the latches of the tripod and showed Mark that there were, in fact, still roaches living in the tripod, Mark changed his tune.

The Tumi rollerboard bag is another issue. David suggested that we take it to a dry cleaners, spray it town with whatever roach killer we could find, or throw it away. Whatever we do, he said that there were so many nooks and crannies in which to hide in a bag like that, that it'd be almost impossible to know if we'd killed them all. He said that if it were him, he'd throw it away.

I am letting Mark wrestle with the $300 price tag of an old (likely roach infested) bag versus the $160 initial treatment plus $80/month maintenance fee for the treatment and prevention of future baby roaches being brought to life within the confines of our walls.

Personally, I'm with David. Right now, the suitcase in wrapped in a garbage bag and sitting in our driveway.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Gift

I went to my cousin's wedding in Cincinnati over the weekend. It was a great occasion, I was able to reconnect with a number of cousins, and Mark stayed back with the kids for the weekend (he did a great job, and the kids were perfect, of course).

At the reception, we were all a bit surprised to see my Uncle Tim show up. Uncle Tim is my Mom's oldest brother (she's #3 of 6 kids). Some time in the late 1960's Uncle Tim went out West for a few months, and according to him, "got into some bad Peyote" and has never been the same since. Prior to his Western sojourn, he was, by all accounts, a brilliant young man, Phi Beta Kappa at college, a fun loving, inventive type. Now he's the poster child in our family for why you shouldn't do drugs; a reclusive, paranoid man, who spends most of his days writing (who knows what) and analyzing the news for signs of the Third World War/end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it.

When I was eight, Uncle Tim gave me a pocket knife. Sitting in my grandma's living room, he explained to me that my Dad and I were the only "survivors" in the family. This pocket knife would be a valuable tool for me when the world came to an end. Ooooooookaaaaayy.

Interesting conversation to have with your 8 year old niece.

Flash forward almost 30 years. As I said, we were all surprised to see him at the reception, but pleasantly so. After all, family is family (the good the bad and the ugly) and it's good to know that he's still doing well, walking, talking, retired from the Gas Station where he worked and in reasonably good health. He talked with my Dad at great length about US military capabilities, strengths and weaknesses, the build-up of the Russian army, and various other things. He and I got to talking about cameras and photography. He was carrying around a tripod, and two cameras, an old 35mm Minolta that was missing it's external flash and a little pocket camera. We got to talking about the tripod, and I mentioned that I'd like to get one someday.

A little while later he came back to me with the tripod. He wanted to give it to me, saying that he'd never really given me anything (except that pocketknife) so he'd really like me to have it. I declined politely, but he was insistent. After several rounds of discussion, I acquiesce, and accept the gift of the tripod.

Sunday night I return to Raleigh, and toss my suitcase on the bathroom floor. Ever the procrastinator (when it comes to unpacking) I take out a few necessities, put the tripod on the floor next to it, and leave the rest until sometime on Tuesday when I finally empty the remaining items and then putting the suitcase back in our closet.

Last night (Tuesday night) I planned to go to bed early and get a good night's rest. As I am getting ready for bed in the bathroom, I notice a bug crawling across the floor. No big deal, bugs are an occasional part of life especially here in NC, and I promptly squish it. Insects don't generally bother me. Spiders don't bother me (well, except for the black widows that took up residence in our house last summer). At first, I'd assumed it was an ant, as we frequently find strays inside during the summer months, but they're most often in the kitchen, so I was a little confused.

Then I see another, and another, and another. Upon closer examination, each one bears a striking resemblance to a roach. In miniature.

Baby Roaches.

After I find and kill about a dozen, I decided to bring in some reinforcements. Dragging Mark up from working out in the basement, he started laughing at my frantic attempts to search out and squash bugs.

I was not amused by his amusement.

Not only do I find them on the tile floor, but now find a few more in the closet (that's what I get for putting the suitcase away). I haul in the vacuum cleaner, and start tossing shoes around the closet and vacuum every inch. I take out all the luggage and put it into the garage (along with the tripod, which in hindsight, I probably should have put outside in the trash can). Mark is still laughing at me and wondering if a slight roach problem might actually be worthwhile if it charges me to clean with this new found vigor.

Not yet satisfied, I venture out to the local grocery store for some insecticide. At 11:30pm on a Tuesday night - I'm thankful we have a 24 hour store close by. One of the stock men noticed me in the insecticide aisle, and laughingly commented that "things must not be good at my house if I'm looking at bug killers this late on a Tuesday night." Gee, ya think?

At the store, there is a BOGO offer on four different varieties of Raid Roach Killer. All FOUR types are SOLD OUT. What is the likelihood that they are completely sold out of all the toxic lethal stuff I was looking for? Of all the luck. I settled on some "natural" brand, some blend of rosemary, cinnamon, and wintergreen oils, safe for use around babies and pets. It was the only thing left. Once home, I sprayed down the bathroom and closet, found one more critter, which to my sheer delight, died instantly when I sprayed it with the natural stuff.

Thank God it worked.

The first call I made this morning was to the exterminator. They are coming tomorrow, unfortunately none of their technicians were in our area today.

Today, a note was sent home from school today stating that several students were found with active lice infestations. As if an onslaught of baby roaches wasn't enough.