It Blows My Mind

I have been thinking about a certain little bit of foolishness that I heard on the radio, and I just have to say my piece about it.

It was one of those political talk radio programs that are meant to make your blood boil. You know the type. The host is fabulous at pointing out everything wrong with the country, but miraculously manages to never once come up with a solution for whatever happens to be the gripe of the day.

Anyway.

On this particular day, this individual said that it is his RIGHT as an AMERICAN CITIZEN to go into debt. He said that the Obama Administration, in urging Americans to live within their means, are trying to FORCE him into a SUBSTANDARD way of life.

Good Grief.

Here is the thing. I am all for the American Dream, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, Life, Liberty, the Pursuit of Happy Meals, and all that stuff. Really, I am.

HOWEVER....

It is absolute idiocy to think of going into debt as a personal right. I mean, seriously, folks. I doubt very much that the Founding Fathers, while working on the Declaration of Independence, ever once thought that racking up a huge VISA bill was one of those "inalienable rights" that they were so concerned with.

We here at Barefoot Manor live almost completely within our means. Do we have debt? Yes. We have a mortgage, and financed my car. We also have a mountain of medical bills (thanks, step-kids). For the rest of our spending, we live entirely on what we can afford to pay in CASH. Yeah, remember that stuff? The green paper and little shiny metal objects. You know it, I am sure you have seen it before.

I in no way believe our lives to be SUBSTANDARD. I mean, what an insult! I will admit that we don't dress in high fashion, and that lobster or steak is a rare treat around here. Still, we have a home that is warm and welcoming. We have reliable vehicles. We are never hungry. We have enough for the occasional trip to the movies or night on the town. Would I like to be able to just go out and buy everything that catches my fancy? Yup. Would I like to have the $$ available so that I would never have to say 'no' to my kids? Of course. But we are just fine.

I can't even imagine living a life where everything went on a credit card, and only the minimum payment was made every month. I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking about owing some nameless corporation that kind of money.

Not that I am judging those folks who have found themselves doing that very thing. I totally understand that society has made that very acceptable for the average Joe. I just have never been able to stomach the idea.

Okay. I have vented. I feel better now.

Finding Something to Write About

Well, do you want to hear about the Adventures in Potty Training going on here at Barefoot Manor? Or how about my frustrations brought on by too much talk radio? I could complain about the way my garden seems to be failing me this year. Of course, I should really complain that I am the one failing my garden.....

Things seem to be just sailing along, with nothing much to talk about. Really.

Work has been exhausting lately, with my clients all acting out a LOT. But that is really boring (and borderline unethical) to talk about.

Housekeeping has gone by the wayside as I fuss over cross stitch and reading. I know I should focus a little better on the things that need to be done around the house, but I don't wanna.

Big Sprout is at camp this week. I am hoping she is having a great time, but this is the first time she has been gone for any length of time with strangers. I am a wreck, waiting by the phone for a frantic call asking me to come get her. I know I won't get one (she is so good about making new friends and all), but I can't seem to quit checking my phone.

Little Sprout has overcome her fear of the potty chair, and now I can't get her off the durned thing.

Little Sprout is incredibly happy that there are veggies coming out of the garden. She has been munching on peas, kohlrabi, and zukes as fast as they mature...it is wonderful!

That is about it....sorry, folks.

Time Marches On

Here it is, July. The year is over half gone, and I feel as if I have been missing it. Except for those few bright days I took off from work while Mr. Barefoot was in CA, I have been wandering around in a fog.

Depression kinda sucks that way.

I feel a helpless sort of frustration. I know that there are so many things I want to be doing right now. I know that if I do them, I will feel better. Doing it, however, seems to be just out of my reach. Not that I am giving up on trying. Every time I lay down to catch a few hours of sleep, I vow to myself that when I wake I will shake off this sense of numbness and inertia. I just never seem to wake up with the juice to get it done.

Dishes are piling up, Mr. Barefoot did the laundry. Weeds are growing, and my peas crapped out on me earlier than they ever have before. The broccoli is doing well....it is sweet this year. I feel a frantic sense of hurry, hurry underneath the terrible lethargy that has me in its grip. The days of summer are slipping away, and I am wasting them fighting a stupid illness that has no business existing at all. The crappy economy has crept a little closer to our lives, and is beginning to effect life in Barefoot Manor more deeply. I feel like time is running out.

Like I said, depression sucks that way.

On the other hand~

I am going to be okay. I know this because I have always been okay, and I am a tough little scrapper when I need to be. Cheesecake is on the menu, and chocolate is chilling in the fridge. Things will be fine.

I look forward to spending some time in the cool shade, weeding my flower beds that are horribly overgrown right now. It will soothe me, I am sure. Tomorrow night, I will have the most rare gifts ever given to a mother: an evening in the house alone. No children, no husband, no need to do anything but soak up the silence.

It will be wonderful. I will not feel guilty as I watch Big Sprout mope around the house, suffering from the summer 'blahs'. I will not feel hounded by Little Sprout's constant bids for attention. I will not feel torn by the two of them fighting over who gets more of my love. I will be free to breathe.

The best part is that in a week or so I will look back at this post and wonder what in the world was so important that it drove me to feel this way. I will feel a little disgust at my own weakness, and a little embarrassment that I even posted this, and life will go on.

This, too, shall pass....

Mo-Meenies

Little Sprout asks me for more Mo-Meenies. Can you guess what it might be that she is so desperate to have?

Zucchini, with a little salt on it. Fresh from the garden (or it was, yesterday).

I gotta love that Sprout.

Little Sprout's Fourth of July Fright

It was a good week for the Sprouts. Grandpa Barefoot had the week off, and Mr. Barefoot's mother was in the hospital (which wasn't good, but it meant that Mr. Barefoot didn't work this week and they got to sleep late and spend a lot of time with family). On Monday we went to a deer farm in Wisconsin, the same one showed a couple of pictures of way back in '06. Both the Sprouts loved that, though Little Sprout was sure that the animals were going to bite her. That didn't stop her from throwing hand fulls of corn at every animal she saw, though!

Friday, Grandpa Barefoot took them (and Pip) to Wild Mountain Water Park. Big Sprout and Pip ran around like mad-women, and Little Sprout was afraid of the water. We all ended up sunburned and happy at the end of the day.

Today was the day that Grandma and Grandpa Barefoot came over for a BBQ and then we all walked down to the fairgrounds to watch the fireworks display.

Poor Little Sprout! She was so excited. It was past her bedtime, she was outside with her beloved Grandma and Grandpa....it was a recipe for great fun. She was interested in watching the small fireworks set off by folks in the parking lot, and seemed so happy running around and jumping on each of us in turn.

Then the REAL fireworks started.

With the first big boom, she jumped as if someone had poked her in the backside. The next few bangs came rapidly, and it seemed she was so scared she couldn't move. She just stood on her lawn chair, shaking, and screamed. Grandpa picked her up and tried to hold her on his lap, but that wasn't safe enough for her. I lifted her onto my lap and covered her with a blanket, which she promptly used to cover her face. I held one hand over the ear she didn't have pressed into my chest and reassured her the best way I could. I rocked, I talked to her, but nothing would persuade her to take her head out from under that blanket. When things got especially loud, she would snake one arm out and pull my head down to hers. I couldn't help but laugh at her a little.

She was very happy when the show was over and we could head home. She wouldn't let go of the blanket, though, till she was safe in her own house.

Maybe next year she will like it a little better.

More Peas, Pwease!

We are picking snap peas out of the garden, and a few kohlrabi as well. Little Sprout is adorable about it. She loves fresh snap peas straight out of the garden, and so she runs across the yard yelling "Peas, Pwease!" at the top of her lungs. Of course I go pick her some (how could I say no?) and then we have the fight over whether or not she is going to be patient and wait for me to 'snap' the peas. Of course, it won't hurt her to eat the strings and little blossom ends that are still stuck on the peas....but it's the principle of the thing. You are supposed to snap the ends off and 'de-string' the peas before eating! Little Sprout just wants to pop them in her mouth.

Greedy little thing. :D

We have a few little green tomatoes here and there, and the broccoli plants all have little heads on them. The cabbage looks beautiful, and the beans are doing what beans do best....grow like gangbusters!

We stopped at the local nursery on Monday to fill in a few places where we had lost plants. Unfortunately, I just can't seem to grow any kind of melon. I bought some new to fill in where the original plants had died, and am hoping to keep these ones alive. We also had lost a couple of tomato plants and peppers to unknown causes (the neighbor's dog jumping in my garden beds is my bet) so those were replaced, as well.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Monday was a big day for the Barefoot Family. We were all going to go to a water park, but the chilly/rainy weather put a hold on that one. So instead, we went to a deer farm and let the Sprouts run around and feed the animals. It was really fun, since this year Little Sprout is old enough to understand what is going on. She got nipped a couple of times feeding the animals. She just couldn't figure out how to get the corn to stay on her palm with her hand flat. So her little fingers would end up in an animal's mouth.

Anyway, that is what I have been up to lately....I know it isn't much, and I hope to get back in the swing of things here soon....

Getting a Little Flaky

The mood swings are in full force. I am exhausted, hot and sweaty. But I don't think I can afford to go buy an AC and run it all the time. I keep telling myself I will survive this muggy, hot weather......but I am not so sure about my family.

Kids are noisy. When I get flaky I don't like noise. So I have been putting cotton in my ears.

I have decided that I am retiring the day Little Sprout starts first grade. Mr. Barefoot argues, but what's he gonna do? Besides, he probably won't even notice....he's never home anyway. So I have 3-4 years to hold out, depending on how early they will let Little Sprout start school.

I weeded today. I hate dirt under my fingernails. But I love the smell of the dirt. and seeing things GROWING......

I have decided that my social anxiety isn't the reason that I don't like to talk to folks...I mean not the biggest reason.....the biggest reason is that a lot of folks are really boring, and I just don't care to hear them open their mouths and be stupid........

gotta go...

Tearing Out My Hair

The staff that was supposed to come in this morning to work and relieve me was - once again - a no call, no show. I can't even believe it. When I called, they didn't even answer their phone. In the ten days since I have been back at work, we have had 3 folks not show and not call, and one quit after 3 days with no notice given at all.

It drives me nuts. Seriously.

First off, not showing up and not calling for work is just plain rude. It means that I am stuck at work until I can find someone to come in to cover the shift. I work with Vulnerable Adults, so I can't just buzz out when my shift is over. It's not like a desk job or something that can be left alone for any length of time. Not showing up like that shows disrespect for me, the clients, and the company. It also makes me rip-roaring mad, which is never good. I tend to get a little...well, mean to folks who are so selfish.

It really burns me that the staff that are doing this are staff that came on board begging for as many hours as possible. They talked about how their hubby/boyfriend/whatever had been out of a job for so long, their phone had been shut off, the mortgage was two months late, their kids needed new shoes....you get the idea. So then we (miraculously) found some extra hours in the schedule that needed filling. There were nearly fistfights breaking out as staff tried to take as many of the new hours as possible. Everyone needed that extra cash so durn bad. But then when it is time to come into work, they don't show.

You would think that, with the economy being what it is, that they would all be working their butts off to make sure that they kept their job. Especially after telling such awful stories of how much they really need a job.

And then I start wondering "what is so bad about this job that I am just not seeing"? Seriously. I don't always like what my boss says or does, but mostly because I think she is to easy on staff, not because she is so tough to work for. And the clients are a pain sometimes (and have been lately, with all the upheaval in their lives), but for the most part they are nice enough and more than willing to follow the daily routines without much fuss. Sure I have to wipe the occasional backside, and listen to the guys yell when they are ticked. Sure I have to cook and clean and make sure they are safe....but that isn't all THAT hard. Really, anyone can do it.

That (sorta) brings me to my next issue. Imagine, if you will, that you have been living in the same house for 10 years or so. Everything is just about the way you like it. You know when bath time is, when meals will be served, what the rules are, and where to find things. You know that cupboard x holds your massive collection of puzzles, and that the dishrags are kept on shelf y. Meals, though not really imaginative, are familiar and tasty. You have a routine that is comfortable and comforting. You are content.

One day, half a dozen strangers come into your home. They start moving the furniture around, and don't know that the green blanket is yours and that the red one goes to your roommate. They start cooking meals that look and taste different. They hang new pictures in place of the ones you are used to looking at, and your puzzles have been moved to goodness knows where. All of a sudden bedtime and mealtimes have changed, and you really don't know what to expect every day.

Regardless of whether or not you like the new foods and new furniture, you are going to feel unsettled, right? You are going to be a little cranky when you see strangers messing with your stuff. They are moving things and changing things, and you can't stop them.

Now imagine that your cognitive abilities are impaired, and you can't understand why they are there or why they are making these changes. All of a sudden, what was a minor irritation becomes a life-altering experience. The routines that give your life structure and keep your anxiety and stress level at a minimum are gone, leaving you uncertain and frightened.

That's what my poor clients have been going through lately. New staff are convinced that they know better than the more experienced staff what the guys need, and are changing everything all at once. Understandably, my clients are acting out in the only way they know how. It is so frustrating to see my guys behaving badly in order to show their displeasure and discomfort only to be scolded for misbehaving when it is all the staff's fault. And I can't fix it for them until I convince everyone on the team that changes have to be made s-l-o-w-l-y for these guys. They need a chance to adjust to every little change. They need a long time to adjust. To everything. They are so dependent on their routines. One little change can throw them off for the whole day.

Ugh.

Not that I am saying that all things have to be the same all the time. Sometimes, a new staff will come on the scene with a fresh perspective and have really good ideas. But it needs to be done carefully and slowly to be effective and keep the guys from getting all confused and scared.

Ok. Rant over.

Change is in the Air

They came together, the garage sale signs and the moving trucks. This weekend has already been full of both in my little town. For Sale signs are springing up, sometimes 4-5 to a block. Folks are opening their doors and saying "make an offer, everything has got to go".

It is unsettling, really.

I usually do a lot of shopping at thrift stores or garage sales...it just seems to make sense that if you can get something 'pre-owned' for so much cheaper than paying retail that you would. I guess I just don't have a lot of pride that way. I was so happy when I started seeing so many garage sales, with so much great stuff. Folks are selling really nice furniture, toys, books and movies....at first it seemed like an amazing stroke of luck. I was carefull, since the economy has affected us here at the Barefoot Manor right along with everyone else. I had in my head certain things I was looking for, sizes for the Sprout's clothes, prices I was willing to pay for certain things.

And then I started noticing that a lot of the houses with garage sale signs also had 'house for sale' signs. I started hearing mothers talking to their husbands about how it was sad to see Grandma's hutch go, but where would they put it when they moved? I started seeing that a lot of the things that were on sale were things that had been in use by these particular families not so very long ago.

Suddenly, it wasn't such a bonanza after all.

Our neighbors, who have only lived in their house for 2 weeks longer than our own residence at Barefoot Manor of 10 months, are having a huge garage sale. Both the Mom and Dad are out of work, and they are selling everything not nailed down. Noone has said as much, but the feeling I get is that they are trying to get enough money together to keep them going until one of them can find work. Every day I see the Wife out, clucking her tongue at a garden that is not doing well. She comes over and looks at my bed of onions doing so well and mentions that she will have to try my raised bed system next season. Unspoken is the thought 'if we're here next season'.

Down the street is a family that has had a garage sale every weekend for the last month. Every weekend there is new stuff out in the yard to replace the items already sold. There is a little girl still playing with her toys that are spread on blankets with little round price tags on them. The mother sits in her lawn chair in the shade by the house every day, all weekend long. Only when a car stops does she get up from her perch in hopes of making a sale.

I almost feel guilty that we are doing so well. Mr. Barefoot and I are both still working, with no rumors of either of us losing our jobs. We are still being carefull, making sure to fill the garden to capacity and working on food stores. We are still making sure to focus on getting our debt paid off and making sure that there will be heat for the family this winter. But we are doing well. When I go to these garage sales and hear the families talk of not knowing where they will end up, or see that they are selling beloved items that they would rather keep, it breaks my heart. A part of me feels it's wrong to even think about buying the items that they love, and a part of me wants to buy something - anything - in an effort to help them out, if only in a small way.

Change is in the air, for sure. I think some good will come from it all - eventually. Folks will start to value the little things again. Family will regain it's importance in our society. Folks will learn that we can survive, and even be happy, with so much less than what we think.

But getting there is going to be a strange road....