Un-Huh

It has snowed off and on all day today.

Just thought you'd like to know.

~and that's all I have to say about that....~

It's A Big Day At Barefoot Manor!

My lovely, wonderful parents get my Sprouts subscriptions to NWF's children's magazines every year. Big Sprout gets Ranger Rick (though I suppose she is really too old for it, now), and Little Sprout gets Your Big Backyard.

It's a big day when both magazines come at the same time. Both girls head off to separate corners with their mail and devour every picture and article. Little Sprout is fun, because she asks so many questions, and squeals in delight over every picture. She makes us read the little blurbs by each picture over and over, and loves to do the mazes and little picture puzzles.

Big Sprout is a bit more... restrained... in her enjoyment of her monthly mail. She is more likely to take her mag and hide in her room for a while, instead of jumping for joy and yelling. But I know she still loves them. While most girls her age are plastering their walls with pictures of the latest teen wonder, my Sprout is pinning up pictures of wolves, foxes, bears, etc. Between all the animal pics on her walls, and the furs that Uncle Wolfie has gifted her, Big Sprouts room sometimes looks like a circus menagerie!

I know part of my enjoyment is that I received these mags as gifts from my folks when I was a kid. My childhood was so different from theirs. I grew up in a house with no video games or computer, and we only had one TV! It's nice to have the Sprouts like something that is familiar to me, something that I have fond memories of, myself. Heck, I still like to read the mags when the kids are done with them!

~...and that's all I have to say about that....~

First Real Day In The Garden

Today was my first real day in the garden. There is so much to do, my mind is boggled, but I am so happy to be working in the dirt again! Working the soil was harder than I would have preferred, as I tried to chop my finger off opening a can of tomatoes late last week. I couldn't stand to keep my gloves on, but keeping the sore finger out of the dirt was troublesome, as well.

I weeded and turned over two of the veggie beds early this afternoon, with Little Sprout "helping". Her idea of helping is finding all the worms she can, and playing with them while mommy does all the real work. It's a nice setup, I guess, if you are the one who gets to play.

I am finding that I am impatient with Little Sprout "helping" when I am in the garden. I want her to leave me alone, and let me play. Too often she interrupts me with silliness, or gets in my way while I am working. I want to be left in peace while I work in the garden, and I can't understand why she can't find something else to do. It isn't as if she doesn't have enough toys. I know all she really wants is attention, but she gets my attention all. the. time. Ugh. Ah, well. Some day I'm sure I will be posting about how she won't "help" me anymore, and how I miss it.

We are talking about putting in four more 4x8 boxes this year, and I am determined to do vine crops on trellises.

Y'know? It's kinda funny. I am finding my passion again, now that I have had my hands in the dirt. It's amazing, isn't it?

~and that's all I have to say about that....~

On Hold

I have been trying to figure out what "happened" to me.

I used to be passionate about being "green". I used to be passionate about "prepping". I used to be passionate about planning the garden, mapping out what would go where and how much it would cost. I used to be passionate about my writing, spending hours playing with how words can be strung together in so many different ways. I used to be passionate about keeping house, and providing a wonderful home for my family. I used to be passionate about.... so many things.

Lately, though, I am having trouble tapping into that same passion. Oh, I still care. I still do the things I think are important. I still recycle, and buy second-hand. I coupon like a madwoman. I have my garden, and I still scribble away in my spare time. I keep composting, and fussing with my crafting.

It just feels, I dunno... flat. Like there is a barrier between myself and the excitement I used to feel about these things.

I keep looking for inspiration. I search blogs, I read books, I go out and breathe the fresh air... I am trying to find my way back to the excitement I used to feel. I think I will probably find it again eventually. I hope so. Until then, I am just... on hold.

~and that's all I have to say about that....~

Minnesota April

 I have photographic proof that our crocus did bloom, and that there are other bulbs pushing their way up into the sunlight. They seem determined to announce Spring's arrival, thought Spring herself seems a bit shy.

This morning, I woke to snow again. Again. Let me say that one more time: Again.

 I know the snow won't last. It never does, this late in the year. And I am trying to be patient. Patience is a virtue, and we all know that I need to work on being more virtuous.

I think today will be spent, again, in my work room. I have been fussing with my jewelry making supplies, putting together some funky pieces that are more me than anything I can afford at the store. I do love sparklies. I love the swish of earrings, and the rattle and clink of bracelets. I love beads and baubles and shiny things as much as any magpie.

Yes, I think I will make some jewelry today while I wait for the sun to reappear.

~and that's all I have to say about that....~

Spring is a Tease

Spring was here... for two days. Then she went away, and we have been having cold, blustery weather since. I'm not fussing too much, because this is just how spring comes to MN. It's kinda fun to wonder every day if you are going to get warmth or have snow and freezing rain spit in your face. Now that the snow is gone, I can relax in the confidence that warmer days will come.... eventually.

I am looking out my window and noticing that, though tulips and daffodils are the only flowers in my yard brave enough to be poking their little noses out of the soil, weeds don't have the same fear of cold. I am tempted to go out there and rip some of them out, but I know from hard experience that my hands will freeze quickly in the chilly soil. Yeah, I'm a wimp like that. I don't mind. There will be plenty of time later for digging around in the dirt.

~and that's all I have to say about that...~

Watching and Waiting

Spring is a time of waiting... and watching... and hoping... and waiting some more. There is a breathless sense of anticipation. Every morning, I thrill to see the sun coming up a little earlier. I am constantly scanning the fields and woods as I drive to and from work, taking note of which bushes and trees have put on some new growth of buds or brightly colored bark. I sit at the window and stare at the green blades of tulip and daffy leaves in my garden, hoping that I will be able to speed their growth by willpower alone.

There have been other things that have required watching and waiting, as well.

Grandma Barefoot recently had heart surgery. This all started back in (I think) January, and so there has been a lot of waiting and watching going on. First the waiting to find out what was wrong, then to find out how to fix it, and now finally waiting and watching while Grandma does her best to heal quickly. I have to say that I admire her ability to deal with all this.

Little Sprout and I have been anxiously watching the seedlings, as well. This year I finally got up the light, so I am hoping that my seedlings will actually make it through to the actual garden! It's a learning process, and every year I do a little better, so it's exciting to consider the possibilities.

I also bought a birdfeeder. So we have been waiting for the birds to notice and visit. So far we have just a couple of chickadees who come to the feeder, but I know more will arrived as word gets out that there is free food available at Barefoot Manor. I hope.

The Crocus Bloomed!

Yesterday, while Little Sprout and I were at Dad's place, the crocus bloomed. I think this is the first year we have had the crocus bloom, which is odd, because the tulips and daffodils always have. Hmmm...

It was beautiful. I mean really, really beautiful.

Little Sprout was so excited, I thought she was going to bust right out of her skin! I took pictures, being the geek I am, but I can't seem to get them from the camera to the 'puter right now, so you are just going to have to imagine those lovely little purple flowers.

I also saw two robins doing the Spring Dance. It was kinda funny. Mr. Robin was all "hey, baby... ya wanna make some eggs?" Mrs. Robin evidently wasn't into it, or had a headache, or something. She was totally NOT interested in letting Mr. Robin have his way, no matter how hard he tried. I'm pretty sure Mr. Robin is going to have the last laugh, though, and that there will be a nest with pretty blue eggs in it soon. That's just the way things go in the spring, ya know? I am proud of her for making him work for it, though. The males of every species need to know the value of what they are getting....

hehe

~and that's all I have to say about that~

Onions. The 5th Food Group

Photocredit

I love onions. I love garlic, too, but onions are my first love. I will eat them raw, fried, baked, deep fried with delicious beer batter on them.

Onions go with everything (well, with the exception of the pb&j). I have had wonderful lunches made with nothing more than a thick slice of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a slice of onion. I like 'em in my taters, I like 'em in my beans. I eat onions with my brussel sprouts (try it, it's great!), and on cabbage. I fry 'em up and put 'em on steak, I slice 'em raw and stick 'em on my burgers. Onions are fabulous!

Every year, we fill at least one 8x10 raised bed with onions. We don't have great success, either because I don't water enough, or the season is too short, or we buy the wrong kind of sets, or... well, I dunno. I just know we rarely get the big, tasty onions of my dreams. Every year I swear I am going to buy some onion seeds and try them that way, and every year I forget, or don't have the $$ in the gardening fund, or... something.

Great successes or not, I do love growing my own onions. Even when the harvest is just a bunch of bitty little onions good only for peeling and throwing in the crock pot with a roast, I get endless enjoyment out of weeding the onion beds. As my hands brush against the tops, they release that heavenly mild onion scent, and my hands smell like onions for the rest of the day. I like the way the tops are so tall and proud. I like the firm feeling of them against my skin. I love the harvest, when gardening turns into a treasure hunt. I love the fun of digging my hands through the dirt, sifting it to find the onion. I love the anticipation of guessing if each onion will be large or small, if it will smell strongly or be sweet.

I love the way the house smells after onion harvest. I love that I can walk in the front door and know that there is a bucket or bag of onions sitting next to the counter in the kitchen that I grew myself. I love the thought of little mesh bags of onions (or, even better, braided chains of onions!) hanging from the ceiling in my kitchen. It hasn't happened yet, as they seem to prefer paper bags in the back room, but the fantasy is probably more fun, anyway.

I think this year I am going to transplant some of my dad's wild onions. They are tiny, but indestructible, and I never have the high expectations for them that I seem to have for store bought sets. I like it that the wild onions are tiny, and I love that when you walk by they smell so wonderful.

Someday, I hope that my little in town lot will be a "tame-wild" world of edibles. I imagine walking through my yard, and feeling as if I had walked into an enchanted forest of raspberries, blueberries, plum and apple trees all mixed together with beautiful flowers and lush foliage. I imagine wandering the yard and picking flowers to decorate the table at the same time I harvest fruits and veggies to serve on it.

Well, it's a nice fantasy, anyway...

~and that's all I have to say about that~

Waking Up

Photocredit

The last year has been hard. My world has gradually reduced to the smallest point possible, that of dealing with what is right in front of me, and letting the rest of life flow by unnoticed.

I can blame my work schedule, and the exhaustion that comes with it. I can blame a disease, and say I am just going through a cycle of "down". I can blame a world that is more about "get" and "take" than "give" and "share". I can blame hot, muggy summers followed by frigid winters. I can blame Facebook and the distractions of virtual farming.

Whatever.

I am starting to remember what it was to have plans and hopes for the future. There is an awakening within me. Something stretching after a long slumber. A part of me that is feeling the return of the sun, and unfurling itself... reaching for that life-giving source. I can feel those parts of me rooted deeply in the soil coming back to life, bringing up from the awakening earth strength and a sense of place.

It seems I post this same post every year, how I die a little every winter and come back to life in the summer. It makes me think that I maybe should move further south... somewhere spring comes earlier and fall stays later. Somewhere I can feel alive like this for more of the year. Somewhere I can feel dirt under my bare feet and smell fresh breezes most of the year.

I know I won't. I couldn't leave behind my family. Everything I know is here. As much as I have loved my travels to other places, none of them ever spoke to me as "home".  I love winter as much as I hate it. The long hours spent in darkness, the delicious sense of being wrapped up and warm in a cozy house when all the world is locked in ice. Winter has it's perks. There are snow days, and the pristine beauty of a field covered in fresh snow. There is the diamond bright wonder of frost-tipped trees in the morning light, and the tangled shadows of a full moon reflecting off a clean blanket of snow.

All that being said, I am glad it's over for another year. Spring is the Awakening. Spring is the time of new blooms, of a glorious haze of green that starts slowly and then (seemingly overnight) takes over the whole world. Spring is a time of mud, and mess, and the craziness of spring planting. Spring is a time of swollen rivers, and returning birds. It is a time of adventure, and hope, and thanksgiving for another winter survived.

I say "bring it on"!

~and that's all I have to say about that~

Spring Saves The Day

For weeks, I have been watching out my window, knowing that Spring is fickle here in the Frozen North, praying that this time the snow would disappear for real.

Today, the snow is mostly gone. The front yard is still mostly covered, but the back yard (sheltered by trees) is mostly clear. I went outside, knowing that it would still be chilly but needing to feel the sun on my skin. Barefoot as I was, I didn't dare go far. Still, from my vantage point on the deck I could see the glorious spikes of my daffys and tulips coming up out of the ground! They must have several inches growth already for me to see them from that far away, and I am SO DANG EXCITED!!!!

Actually, I am probably this excited every year, but every year it seems like the first time I have seen life return to the world after being shrouded in ice for months....

And that is probably why I could never live anywhere warmer. I would miss, terribly, the absolute joy of the first signs of spring. There is nothing like having your spirit crushed to oblivion every winter by lack of sunlight, cold, and bleak white views only to have it revitalized so completely by the first blush of green in the spring. I don't believe you can feel those incredible highs unless you have experienced the deepest lows.

*happy dance, happy dance* Oh, how I love spring!

~and that's all I have to say about that...~

Spring... Maybe?

I looked out the window yesterday, and saw (for the first time since fall) a small bit of the path on the south side of the house free of snow. Today, the sound of water dripping off the roof was the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes.

I think Spring might have finally found its way to my little corner of the world! I am hopinghopinghoping that soon I will be able to see grass growing, and start feeling around in the flower beds for the spikes of hosta, tulip, and iris just popping through the soil's surface.

Please. Please. Please!

Mr. Barefoot has been talking about cutting down more trees in the yard. On the one hand, I am totally excited by this prospect. If we got rid of the trees already on the property, I could plant more veggies, and fit some fruit trees in. It would be a huge step forward in my little dream of growing more of our own food. I would have many more flowers I could grow, as well, and this gardener loves her flower gardens!

On the other hand, I remember how nekkid I felt when the power company came and cut down trees along the back property line. I remember vividly the mourning I went through when they cut down one of the prettiest trees on the property. I like our trees, have gotten used to having them where they are, and I don't know how I would feel if they were all gone and I had to start from scratch.

Change is scary, ya know?

So Mr. Barefoot and I keep on talking about it, and thinking about it, and wondering which trees should go first (there are a few that really need to go for safety reasons). And I distract myself by thinking about how wonderful it will be to have Spring here, and be able to sit out on my deck with a book. I focus on how good it will feel to have my hands in the soil, and to smell that glorious "dirt smell".

~and that's all I have to say about that~

The Longest Day

I have had only a few hours sleep... maybe 5?... since Monday morning. I can always tell when I have been up too long, because everything just seems to go wrong.

This morning, I somehow managed to stab myself in the chest with the plug for the electric mixer at work.

I am impatient with Little Sprout, and she has chosen today of all days to watch a really stupid "Christmas Classics" movie on Netflix.

Our fish are dying by the handful. Not my fault.

I think I have stubbed the same toe 3 times today.

Yeah, sleep is good.

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

The sun is shining, and the snow keeps melting, but I am afraid there will still be drifts in my yard in July. This was a snowy year for us, and it seems that I will be staring out my windows at a dirty white landscape forever. My hands are itching to get in the dirt, and I am terribly frustrated that I can't. Well, I could. I would just have to shovel a few feet of snow first. And it wouldn't be comfortable if I did, since the ground is still frozen.

*sigh*

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

On the other hand, this past weekend I went out with a couple girlfriends from High School and had my very first Indian Food. The food was actually pretty good! And the company, of course, was excellent. We ended up chatting for quite a while at the restaurant, then heading over to a local book store.

While I was out reviving a mostly dead social life, Uncle Wolfie took the Sprouts for the day. They went to a movie, lunch, and even squeezed just a little bit of rock climbing in. Little Sprout came home so excited from her day... it took us hours to calm her down! I don't think Big Sprout and Uncle Wolfie will be taking her along often, though. It sounded like she was a pretty big pain in the backside the whole time. Poor Wolfie looked downright exhausted when he dropped them off!

Mostly, life is just bumping along here at the Barefoot Manor. I am looking forward to the end of the school year, when Big Sprout will be available to help out more around the house and with Little Sprout.

~and that's all I have to say about that~

I love being a Minnesotan!

Minnesotans have their own brand of crazy. I'm not kidding.

This morning, I headed out at 5am to visit a grocery store 30 miles away. Hey, there was a monster sale going on! It's important!

The problem (as I found when I woke) was that after a steady rain, the temps dropped and the rain turned to snow. The roads were icy, and covered with several inches of snow on top of the ice. In front of the garage alone, the snow had drifted to almost knee deep! Miserable driving conditions at any time, much less 5am, when it is dark and the plows have only made the smallest of beginnings at pushing the snow off into the ditches and sanding the slick roads.

Anyway, imagine (if you will) my little car cruising along unplowed roads at 30mph in pitch darkness, trying to follow the ruts left by the cars that have gone before me. Imagine further that I was doing this with a cig in one hand, mt dew in the other, and my Mp3 player hooked up to the car stereo and blasting my favorite tunes. There I was, singing along at the top of my lungs to Nina Simone ("do I move you... is it thrillin"), George Thorogood("move it on over... rock it on over"), REM("it's the end of the world as we know it.... and I feel fiiiiiiiine"), Train ("did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there...") and others, feeling the back end of my car sliding and twisting as it tried to follow the front end over the slippery roads. The best part of the drive was when I got the call from our school district "automated alert system" that school was cancelled for the day. Oh, the juggling I tried to manage: tossing a cig in the butt bin, digging in my purse for a ringing phone, and white-knuckle driving with one hand, desperate not to take my eyes off the barely visible ruts in the road. Whew! Big Sprout didn't have to go out in this mess! I was so happy.

It didn't occur to me until I got home that going 2 miles to school is a lot safer and more important than driving 30 for grocery deals.

Now, some of you may be reading this and thinking "but Barefoot! You are only sharing with us YOUR particular brand of insanity. Surely not everyone in MN is as batty as you are!" Well, folks, I am here to tell you that I was NOT the only nut job on the roads at 5am. In fact, I had big trucks passing me on unplowed back roads. I had little sub-compacts (driven, I'm sure, by Grandmothers barely peeking over the steering wheel) in front of me going even slower than I was. I got blinded by folks coming up out of side roads with their brights on. The grocery store was fairly busy, even at 5:30 (when I finally pulled into the parking lot), and it got much busier before I was ready to leave with my cart full of goods.

And that's why I love being a Minnesotan! In weather that would have shut down most states, we get up and risk life and limb, look Death in the face and laugh a little maniacally, to satisfy the in-born need to be frugal (or go to work. Whatever.). After all, we have plans! We have responsibilities! We can't let a little (okay, 10 inches, plus drifts much deeper) get in our way!

Oh. And just as an aside: I figure I saved between 60%-70% on my groceries. Isn't that awesome?!

~And that's all I have to say about that~

Full Moon At The Beginning of Spring

Have you ever felt the weight of a passionate need so great that it seems it will crush you? Have you ever abandoned yourself to the wild desperation, and feared that your human body is not strong enough to withstand the strength of what you feel? Have you ever had your heart break over a perfect sunset, or wanted to feel the weight of a golden sunbeam falling through emerald leaves in the morning? Have you ever had music pulse through your body with its velvet touch, making you somehow feel it on the inside of your skin?


Have you ever made yourself so vulnerable that you trembled with every breath? Have you ever thrown yourself into your art with reckless abandon, and flown on the wings of creativity and passion? Have you ever reached out to grasp life, and held on with all your might? Have you ever touched someone and known, beyond doubt, that you are touching their heart and soul as well as their body? Have you ever laid yourself bare to feel the same touch?

Have you really, truly, ever believed in magic? Seen it around you? Been breathless with the awesome wonder of the world? Have you ever, with childlike trust, placed the deepest parts of yourself in the hands of another, and let go of fear? Have you ever been so desperately lonely that you felt you were choking in the darkness?

Folks say that all that stuff about the full moon affecting folks... making them crazy... is rubbish. I don't know if I believe that. How else would I explain a weekend from hell at work (my clients were REALLY on a roll!) combined with the feeling that I was so full of the above thoughts (and more, not appropriate for a G rated blog) that I felt like my skin was going to split and spill everything I am all over the freshly mopped linoleum? I am gonna blame the moon, and stick to that story till the end.

Observation

The Moon wasn’t quite full yet when the coyotes’ yips and yowls tore through the night. I had been standing on the stoop, lost in a book of trashy deliciousness when I heard the first yelping cry. My head jerked up hard enough to actually hurt my poor neck muscles, and chills shivered down my spine as the rapidly swelling chorus of coyote song filled the night. Just for a moment, every nasty story I had ever heard of rabid dogs, vicious wolves, opportunistic coyotes filled my mind, and I searched the darkness for red eyes and dripping fangs. Then, thankfully, good sense returned. I was able to enjoy the beauty of the song in the night, and smile at the tortured howling and barking coming from the neighborhood dogs. The poor things were locked up… chained up… restrained… and here their wild cousins were stalking freely through territory clearly marked by these tame man-friends. The indignity. The horror. The fear… and, I imagine, the jealously in the hearts of some of those dogs.
A few nights later, an owl visited me. I could hear the deep-throated who-o-o, but was unable to pick out the shape of my midnight visitor no matter how I strained my eyes in the moonlight. Owl stayed for quite a while, always calling out whenever I tried to lose myself in my book. I imagined my friend owl as the jealous sort, not liking the thought that I found anything more interesting than watching the moon-shadows in hopes of catching a glimpse of him/her.

Last night, the full moon was supposed to be an amazing sight. All week I looked forward to the sight of a moon brighter and nearer than I have seen it in many years. Instead, I was treated to the first rainstorm of the year. March, and rain. It fell in heavy sheets, pounding into the house and pushing away the snowdrifts still piled everywhere in the yard. As the driveway began to fill with water, I began to pray that the temps wouldn’t drop too much before morning. I didn’t like the idea of all that water freezing into sheets of glass-slick ice, making driving dangerous and possibly trapping me at work.

Spring is slowly creeping its way into my little corner of the world. I have now seen north-bound geese, and there are more birds raising their voices to greet the dawn every day. Each tree is surrounded with a circle of bare earth, and I find that little bit of muddy brown is a very welcome sight after months of white-white-white-every-where-you-look-it’s-nothing-but-white. I can feel the earth waiting… waiting for the sun to melt the snow just a little bit more, for the warmth to reach just a little deeper into the soil. I can feel spring waiting to burst forth in all it’s glory. I can feel myself ready to burst forth with all my glory. I am aching to get my hands into sun warmed soil; to smell the damp, freshly turned earth; to sit in the evening and watch the birds and squirrels play in the yard. I soak up the warm breezes, and turn my face to the sun.

My Belly Button Is NOT A Toy, and other craziness involved in Parenting Sprouts...

This morning, Little Sprout was begging for attention in her usual single-minded fashion. As she arched back over the arm of the couch, I couldn't resist the temptation to tickle her belly. She straightened up with a scream, and (shaking her finger in my face) told me with utmost seriousness that her belly button is NOT a toy.

*sigh*

Little Sprout has also been obsessed with death. I am not sure what started it. I think it was when she asked Grandpa Barefoot about his dad, and was told that he had died almost 12 years ago. Then we had Grandma Jo's funeral, and just the other day one of the fish in our tank got sucked into the water filter and died. So now every single thing out of her mouth is asking about death. What happens, when will they be back, what dies and what doesn't. I guess I am lucky, in that death is something I have (through years of working with the elderly) become quite comfortable with. So her questions don't hurt me, or make me uncomfortable. They just get irritating. I have finally (after many times trying to explain it different ways) decided to just leave it at "you'll understand when you're older".

I do have to admit that I am slightly enchanted with her theory that everyone comes back to us in the spring, though. Especially when I think of it in relation to my grandfather. He loved to garden, and if ever there would be a time that he would come to visit and watch what we are doing, it would be when we are out with our hands in the dirt.

In other Sprout news, Big Sprout has (once again) shocked my socks right off my little barefoot feet and convinced me that she is too good to be true. When she was preparing to leave for conservation camp with school, she came home one day obviously agitated. She started talking to me about how the kids in her class were angry that "lights out" at camp would be 10pm. Several of these kids are allowed to stay up till 11pm or later, and they were outraged at the thought of being treated "like a little kid".

Somewhere in the middle of her long, involved rant, I realised that Big Sprout has had the same (8pm) bedtime for... well, forever. Feeling a little bad that I hadn't realised she was getting older, I offered negotiations on her bedtime, saying she could probably stay up later if she wanted.

Well. Big Sprout turned on me with fire in her eyes. She informed me in no uncertain terms that she LIKES her early bedtime, she needs it to get up early and be well rested for school, and that (in her opinion) staying up late has a DIRECT RELATIONSHIP to the poor grades of the kids who have later bedtimes.

Excuse me? Is this coming from a 12 year old girl... for real? I looooove it! Big Sprout often comes out with these very mature statements, and every time I am left wondering what I did right with her... goodness knows, whatever I did hasn't been transferred to Little Sprout, who has a sense of entitlement a mile wide.

And that's all I have to say about that....

Marching Forward

March is a month of snow here in the Great Frozen North of MN. It is an especially difficult month for those of us Minnesotans who are active (yes, I still consider myself active) in the bloggy world, because we have friends from all over. Those friends from warmer areas are out there blogging pictures of their gardens starting to wake, and the ugly green monster called jealousy rears it's ugly head. I look at my 'puter, seeing pics of green little spikes coming up out of the soil (or worse, actual blooms), then look out my window and see snow...snow....snow.

On the other hand, the first few garden chores of the season can be done now, and I am gearing up to get them done. I can start some broccoli, and onion seeds. I have been fussing with the garden plans, figuring out how much I can grow and where. I have been looking at lots and lots of garden porn. This year, we are planning to add some fruit plants to our little garden adventures, so I have lots to think about. Where to put the (free!!!) strawberry plants, where to put the (free!!) raspberries, how many blueberry bushes can I fit without things looking crazy.... ya know, all those wonderful, daydreamy thoughts of planning your garden. I love the struggle to find the balance between pretty flowers and tasty veggies and fruits. I want my little town lot to have the best of both worlds, and I think I am doing pretty well so far.

Sometimes I fantasize about taking out all the trees in the yard and replanting with fruit trees. I think about how great it would be to have an empty yard where I could start from scratch and use up all the "wasted" space. I would never do it, but it's so nice to think about the fun things I could do if I didn't have to work around what is already here.

Well, I suppose Mr. Barefoot gets an opinion, but let's not tell him that, huh? I almost have him convinced that the yard is completely mine.

I am not letting these snowy, cold days go to waste. I am using my time to declutter Barefoot Manor in preparation for the summer months, when my focus will be more on the outside of the house and I won't have the interest or time to do much indoors. I have made some significant progress, and hope to have the whole house in a condition to pretty much take care of itself by spring. Yeah, I gots me some big dreams!

I have also extracted promises from Mr. Barefoot for 4 new garden boxes, some trellises, and a squirrel proof bird feeder, so I am really looking forward to the day that the snow goes away!

Happy Birthday, Big Sprout!!!

(Insert picture of my lovely daughter, who is terribly camera shy, here)

12 years ago, after hours of my whining and moaning, you came into this world with a cry of rage. I suppose it was a bit uncomfortable - heck, even embarassing - to come into this world nekkid with half a dozen people looking at you. But that's your fault. If you didn't wanna be nekkid and cold, you shoulda put a sweater on before making your first appearance.

Just kidding.

I can't figure out what happened to TWELVE WHOLE YEARS! It seems like just yesterday I was bringing you home from the hospital, ridiculously overconfident in my ability to handle single-motherhood. Now I look at you and see a gal who is independent and strong. I won't call you a young woman yet, if you don't mind. Give me a couple years to get used to that idea.

Anyway. Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl. You make me smile. You make me proud. I love you!

Just Get ON With It, Already!

I am a planner. I always, always, have several grand plans floating around in my brain for projects. I am not so great when it comes to actually following through on those plans. I have quite the arsenal of excuses. I work odd hours, meaning I am sleeping when I could be working. I have Little Sprout hanging on me at all times. I am tired. I don't have the money. I don't have the time. So and So won't let me, or wouldn't like it. I don't have... well, you get the idea.

I am kinda disgusted with myself, really. The worst part is that I have been here before. And before. And before. More befores than I can even count.

Then I see blogs and articles from folks who actually do it, instead of planning it, and I get even more upset.

The thing is, I am not going to promise that this is the time when I will really make it happen. I will not pretend that today is any different than any other day. Because it isn't.

I just gotta get up and do something today. Hopefully, I will get up and do something tomorrow, as well. If I can just string together enough todays of doing something ~ anything ~ to get my goals accomplished, maybe I can change some habits and actually get it done.

Ya think?