To the doctor we go again..

First off, the reason that they're haven't been any blogs posted from me in a while: blogspot hates me.  It's as simple as that.  Truly.  It has nothing to do with the strange fact that my son is humming the JAWS theme (though he's never seen the movie) in his room as I try to focus and type.  It has nothing to do with me going crazy at all, no it doesn't and I don't like your implications.  Blogspot simply hates me.  I type out a great blog, I go to hit publish, the whole thing freezes up and then the computer starts giggling this insane giggle that only Stephen King could dream up, and it gets up and runs away.  And, I'm left sitting there all innocent without a blog post anymore.  So, there.  Now you know.  I blog now at great risk to my own health and warfare (no, not a typo).  You're welcome.  I love you.

So, do you remember Shannon's 5 Year Doctor check up visit?  No?  Why not?  I kinda do!  Ok, I'll forgive you.  You can click on that snazzy link and it'll take you to the blog post about it. 

Tristan had his 5 Year Doctor check up visit yesterday.  Here is how my day went:

Wake up and decide this isn't one of my days.  And, since I have nowhere to be, I'm allowed to have a lazy bummy day, so I don't take a shower.

Remember at 11am that we have an appt at noon. Tristan, who has been congested for a few days (thank you Allergy Gods) has been given cough/cold syrup.


Remember that 2 years ago, at Shannon's 5 year check up, he barfed EVERYWHERE. Try not to mention that memory to the kids.

Put on a nicer shirt and attempt to do something with my hair.  Ok - so here's a fun tidbit for you: a lot of people think that having dreads means you completely neglect your hair.  Like you forget it's there all together.  This couldn't be further from the truth, at least for me.  And, if you haven't been to take your kids to the doctor's lately, you are missing out on the well-known, absolute fact that you MUST look presentable because, no matter how sick your child is or isn't, they WILL judge you.  It's a bunch of women ... DUH! 

My dreads and I argue some, but they finally agree to go up in some form of a bun.  The Hokie colored ones though decide they're going to really stand out in weird ways today.  Fine.  Just fine.

Get kids into the car.  Attempt to get self into the car.  Thanks to a long upper-body and short arms, I only have 3 fingers' width of room between the top of my head and the top of the car when my hair is down.  If my hair is up, I wind up driving all GANGSTA style, slung off to the side trying to fit in the car.  -- How in the world did women with beehives EVER drive anywhere????  I need a carriage and someone to drive me around. 

Get there early, wait till ...shortly after 12 to be seen - go figure.

They do urine sample & finger prick blood test first. Tristan is fine. He doesn't get upset till he feels (I'm guessing) that first heartbeat in his finger. (You know what I'm talking about) - At that point he has an upset, eyes welling "uh-oh" reaction.

Nurse calls us back into the room so we don't have to wait. She takes Tristan off to do the eye & hearing exam.

She returns with Tristan who is COVERED in vomit. I mean, it was even on the back of his pants. Since I didn't see it happen, all I can imagine is the Excorsist. Nurse seems stunned and unsure of what to do. She hands me a gown and I work on stripping him down.

Meantime, I call my mother to please run by my house, grab him a change of clothes and GET HERE NOW!

He announces he needs to go to the bathroom. While on toilet he starts puking again, then it shoots out the other end. (Sorry - TMI, I know). I try to clean up as best I can.

Get him cleaned up, washed off, and etc. Get gown back on. He is clammy and his face is literally green.

Nurse keeps trying to say he has a stomach bug. I keep trying to tell her that his older brother had a very similar reaction and that their father doesn't do very well at the sight of blood either.

I remind Beazley of Justin's fainting spell during a very similar check-up when I get the chance.

Mom arrives. All seems ok. Then Shannon announces HE has to go to the bathroom, and it's obvious HE is starting to cry.

Beazley looks at me, wide-eyed, in a "WTH?" wonder.

I go to the bathroom with Shannon. Have to get him to admit to being upset and crying. He says that he doesn't like getting shots. I remind him that HE isn't getting any shots today. He says he doesn't like Tristan getting shots. I leave him to finish.

While he's still in the bathroom we agree that my mother will go ahead and leave, taking Shannon with her. This is good because by the time Shannon gets back he pretty much hollers that he wants to leave NOW. - they leave.

Now there is the usual examination part.  I win the "WORST MOTHER EVER" award for not only all that has happened but also because Tristan is wearing underwear that is oddly stained all over (of course, right?), and socks that aren't of equal shades of whiteness - one is bright white the other is slightly pink. 

Tristan gets his 3 shots. At doctor's "orders" we lay him down for it and keep him down. Obviously, he cries about the shots *mega duh*

After a good long while I'm able to get him dressed. He keeps trying to kinda hyperventilate.

Tristan has been known to, when he's VERY upset, quit breathing kinda, go blue, and pass out. So ... this is my current fear.

We walk out to the car, I think the rain and cool air will do him good but he seems to be getting weaker. I finally wind up carrying him to the car.

I get him in the car. I attempt to get myself into the car. Remember what I said above about the dreads.  It's like a friggin' cartoon episode, me trying to get into the car with my big hair and little arms.  And it's raining.

We're driving down Main St., towards my mother's house, in the rain, and I glance to the back seat. Tristan is slumped over. I try to not go into full panic mode.

Turns out he was just asleep. Get all of us home. Everyone goes down for naps. I have two stories due. Two I, of course, hadn't written yet. I send my editor a letter asking just how late I can get them in. My nerves are shot.

Who the hell hid my valium today?

Why is my hair so big?

How is it fair that they inherit this reaction from Justin but I end up being the one to get to deal with puke and nurses who seem to be amazed that kids may puke at the doctors' office and capable of offering little other than a gown, a trash bag (at my request, they didn't think of that on their own) for his puke covered clothes, and then they run around spraying things with Febreeze???

Tristan sleeps for a while, or at least rests for a long while. This is good. No more vomiting, no passing out.

I get my articles written.

I find my valium.

I forget about my big hair since the ceilings here are even taller.

I make a good healthy, nourishing dinner. Tristan has a fit because he'd rather have a sandwich. We convince him to break up pretzels in the soup/pasta dinner. No (adult) tempers are lost.

I debate having one more kid just to make sure that Justin has to take said prospective kid to their 5 year check up.

Of course, Murphy's Law, that prospective kid would be fine.

I hate that prospective kid. Damn him/her.

I make Justin stay on bulldog butt wiping duty. This doesn't make me feel much better, but it's better than nothing.

The one bulldog who wasn't given gas-x pills proceeds to sit there, butt near my face, and fart all night.

Damn Murphy's Law.
 
Later I ponder if I can squeeze the bulldogs and make them fart in Justin's face. It would make a nice weapon and I feel like he deserves some suffering.


Cartoon-esque revenge theories are being hatched in my mind. I also kinda want to bitch-slap the nurses. Or at least do a SNL "REALLY?!?!?" clip about them. I mean, REALLY!?!?!?!, you're shocked and unprepared when kids vomit at the doctor's office?!!?!? REALLY!?!?!??! Who could ever imagine and forsee such events!!! REALLY!?!?!?
 
 
So .... now you know why we try to avoid trips to the doctor's office as much as try to avoid ... umm .. the plague?

Good Morning

These photos were taken with my cell phone, thereby a little fuzzy. But I find when I first wake up in the morning, life is a little fuzzy ... just like the photos. Here is a quick look at some of the beings I wake up to in the morning.

Good Morning from Foster. Our 17 month old, at least 140 pound, English Mastiff. He likes to cuddle. He isn't allowed on the bed. Luckily for him, his back legs are on the floor. Our bed is queen size and he, as you can see, can reach nearly fully across it. With his hind legs still on the floor.


See how tired he is? He has sleepy-goop still in his eye. The poor thing. It's tough being a Mastiff who thinks he's a carry-along 2lb dog. In case you're wondering what his head is resting on ... that's Justin's leg under the blanket.

Then there is Layla, our little 9 month old English Bulldog. For many months now, under our bed has been her refuge. When it is hot out, she hides under the bed. When Foster is chasing her after they've been playing, she runs into our room and does an impressive dive & slide under the bed, where he can't reach her. When Foster greets us in the morning though .. well, she just isn't as tall and can't command the attention. So .. under the bed she goes.
The sound of her crawling under the bed, her ID tag clanking against the wooden floor and her legs attempting to propel her forward make it sound like she is swimming. So, that's what we call it. We'll look at each other and say "Oh, Layla's gone swimming again." "There Layla goes, swimming under the bed." It isn't a graceful performance out of her to say the least.
However, our little pup is growing as little bullies do. Normally she'd swim under the bed, pop up on my side (closest to the wall) and paw for attention. Now ... poor Layla, she's a bigger bully.

......

Layla gets a little stuck under the bed during her morning swim. .... It probably doesn't help that she does this swim after she's eaten her breakfast, when her belly is nice and full. Apparently she never bothered to read the memo about not swimming after you eat.

As you can tell here, Foster is just SHOCKED that Layla is stuck, once again, under the bed. He's simply shocked.
Actually, he's likely more concerned and offended. When Layla gets stuck she doesn't give up on her swim. She reaches her paws out, hoping to make it through. Which usually ends up with her pulling the nearby plug out of the wall. That turns off the tv (which isn't on in the morning anyway), the clock (which is on and will have to be reset, but which Foster doesn't care about), and ... worst of all, the fans. THIS is VERY offensive to Foster. One of the perks of being able to lay across the bed like he does is, aside from the morning cuddle, the breeze from both of the fans.
So ... in this photo Foster is shocked that Layla is stuck ... again. And concerned that this will wind up in his breeze being disrupted. Which just completely ruins the beauty of morning.

Here's wishing you all a happy holiday weekend. However you spend it. However you wake up, or whomever/whatever you wake up to.

Quit yer bitching, be prepared, & acknowledge Mother Nature

Tis that time of year again: Hurricane Season. Just like you can count on stores to start Christmas displays practically at the same time as they put out Halloween displays, you can count on media to make certain that the impending hurricane will be an end of the world scenario.

Now, before I get too far into this post let me say that I feel for those who suffer. I don't want anyone to lose their lives, especially those who are at the mercy of others' (children, elderly, disabled, sick, etc) to care for them. I don't want to see animals suffering either. So .. there you go, I am not the most evil monster out there.

But, let's get back to the topic. Check out this link (for some reason it's not letting me embed it, sorry): http://youtu.be/75f-YUntYRI. It's footage from Virginia Beach area. A news reporter is doing his thing with people driving around behind him, around him, and then lots more people running by. One guy even drops his shorts and flashes the camera as he's doing this. It is funny. It is also, more reason why I have little sympathy.

Let's make it as clear as we can, ok? If you live at, or below, sea level, then you live in an area where you're likely to get flooded out. If you live near the beach, especially when there is a GOOD history of annual hurricanes you are, at some point, going to likely experience one.

If you live in the mountains, where it snows, guess what ... there is a chance that at some point during the Winter you might get snowed in. Or there might be lots of snow and ice.

Live on or near a fault line?? Guess what you can expect. That's right, earthquakes. Living out in the Midwest, in an area known as 'Tornado Valley'??? Hmmm ... can we figure out what you might see one day?

Have some friggin' respect for Mother Nature folks. Pay attention to where you live. Build accordingly, if you're going to build. That's one of the things I find a little laughable about the new "passivhaus" movement (which I can't say without a bad Arnold-esque accent). For as long as there have been humans around, until very recently, societies built their homes according to where they lived and what that area was like. It's the enormous "DUH!!" ~ to which I can't add much more.

Also, wherever you chose to live, be prepared for what very well may happen. I mean, these aren't exactly the biggest surprises in the world now are they?? Again, this is one reason why homes used to be built with exterior shutters that could actually shut (you know, cover the window) and be locked. Not little bitty decorative ones screwed on either side of the window as they are now.

Know what you're going to do, just in case. Quit relying on others to take care of you and make everything as happy-perfect-fairytale as you think it should be.

And .... if you're going to go out in bad weather. If you're going to go take your boat out in the water during a hurricane. Or if you think it is wise to go out in snowstorms, tornadoes, and etc. Well, you're likely an idiot and I won't be that sad when you die or get hurt. It's Darwinism in action.

Stella Updates

Stella today

Stella before?? This is a photo I found in a book on VW buses. The interior is identical to Stella's, though obviously the color is different. I can't tell if she faded a LOT or if she was just originally 'Guinea blue' rather than 'Medium Blue' (as is listed in the book as the blue color option for campers and is in the photo above). Today she looks more Guinea than Medium though, and I'm guessing it's unlikely that she faded THAT much.

She's still down at the shop though. Apparently she won't pass inspection with the current, cracked windshield. Whoever last replaced the windshield didn't put it in correctly, or even in all the way it seems, and it cracked and for some reason that I simply can not begin to understand, they left it like that. So ... a new windshield is on order out of Norfolk. It should be here by the middle of next week, and hopefully we can have her home by then. She also needed new rear brake lights, but those have already been put in.

I've also been on the hunt for other parts she needs that are no longer available on the market. A new dash cluster since the odometer and fuel gauge don't work (kinda something that we really need working!) is the main thing. I found a guy down in Georgia, or rather he found me. He has an '82 Vanagon, non-camper, that he's selling off as parts. I have to admit to being nervous about dealing with things online that I can't physically see, but I also don't see where I have much of an alternative. I've asked him to send me photos of parts (he also has a grill which she needs, along with other items). He doesn't have a digital camera so he said he'll pick up a disposable one, take the photos and mail them to me. Something about this makes me feel guilty, but I suppose I'll let him do it.

We've also ordered our own copy of the 'Idiot Book' (as it is lovingly called). We were able to find a newer edition, used (!! yay !!) for a really good deal thanks to Amazon.com.

And, finally, we ordered a new rug for her. The folks we bought her from had put in an oriental-esque throw rug which looked really cool. I wouldn't have thought to do that I don't think. Then I happened to stumble across a crocheted rag-rug that was made using upcycled tie-dye sheets. Lots of yellows, pale blues, pinks and more. I love it. I can't wait to see it in there.

Meet Stella

This is Stella. Stella Blue. Yes, I know the name might be a little cliche, but she really insisted that it was her name. So, Stella she is.

Stella is a 1982 Volkswagen Vanagon Westfalia. She has an air cooled engine and is a full camper.

Those who've known me for a significant amount of time will know of my longing for a Westy. That longing has been passed down to my sons, particularly Shannon. It was because of Shannon that we got Stella.

We were driving home from my mother's house when Shannon announced "I told Grandma that they could have our tent out of the attic." "And where are we going to sleep?" asked Justin. "In the Westfalia" replied Shannon with the epitome of "duh" Valley-Girl in his tone. We explained that we didn't have one and weren't planning on seriously looking for one until the end of next year. We would have to stick with the tents for a while longer.

The next day I posted on Facebook about what Shannon had said. I mentioned that DogLimo2 (a Westy belonging to friends and for sale locally) might have to stay local after all. Instantly another friend replied "take mine!". They had bought it because it was a good deal and with intentions (dreams?) of camping and etc. Life, as it turns out, had different plans and so it wasn't a good fit for them. I looked at photos they had of her online and instantly I was hooked.

Our friends even drove her up here from their home in North Carolina. I wasn't sure what time they were leaving, but I knew that they could get here between 6 & 8am. I woke up at 3:45am. Fate smiles. Turns out that is what time they hit the road to come here.

One of the difficult things for me in my Westy quest was that I personally am not so wild about a lot of the color schemes. Those oranges, yellows, and greens, along with the plaids in the same shades just ..... well ..... they are NOT for me.

Stella on the other hand is, obviously, blue. Look at the name of our home. Obviously we like that color. The majority of the rooms in our house are painted blue. Fittingly enough, the day we physically got Stella, Justin & I were both wearing blue shirts. (I promise, it wasn't intended)
Her interior is a mix of the cream & brown on the camper parts, typical of that time. The seats are blue, brown, and white striped. She has a nice brown carpet inside.

Needless to say, I am in love. The kids are in love. Justin is, at minimum, content and happy. He hasn't caught the VW BUG yet (pardon the pun), but he will. Hopefully. If not, the kids and I outnumber him.

Right now Stella is down at Salem Imports. She needs more work done to her than we thought, which is upsetting. Mainly because it will take me some time to earn the money to pay for it. But that is life. In the end, she will be better for it. We all will.

In the meantime, I've been sent home with the Compleat Idiot's Guide to maintaining your Volkswagen by John Muir. I love the book already and am determined to become mechanically inclined. I'll also be purchasing the book as soon as possible. I found used copies available online at Amazon for great prices. (Always shop used first!)

It's not the exact start I was picturing, but when is life really like that? Though I had been hoping for at least a few "WHEEE!!" months before something big hit, I'll be happy for the time spent to 1) EARN the money for the repairs and 2) the time to educate myself more about the world I have just entered. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise?

Wish me luck.

PS ~ I was feeling guilty for not getting DogLimo2. When I was down at the shop I didn't see it. I asked Sandra where it was and she told me it sold. We both expressed feelings of guilt: me for buying something else and her for selling it. But again, fate smiles. They sold it at the same time we bought Stella. To people from North Carolina.
Today I had an epiphany about DogLimo2 (when I was questioning my sanity of getting Stella v. DogLimo2). For me, DogLimo2 is like that really great guy who likes you and you really, really wish you liked him to because you know how great you two could be together. How he would be so good to you. But the fact is, no matter how much you like him as a friend, love him as a friend, your feelings don't go beyond that. No matter how much your brain tells you they should, logically.
That is DogLimo2 for me. I believe Stella was the one calling me. I know she was. And I think DogLimo2 found who was calling him. (I'm deciding the gender here, though the new owners may feel differently). Fate Smiles.

A lesson from Pom

Usually when I write about Pom on here I am referring to my great-grandmother, whose house we now live in, Pom Taney. It so happens though that both my maternal great-grandmothers were given the moniker 'Pom' by their grandchildren. Today's lesson comes from Pom Redfield.


This is Pom Redfield. I don't know the year the photo was taken. I doubt it is as old as the letter I am getting ready to quote. There she is though. I see a lot when I look in her eyes.


For lack of a word more accurate than 'luck' I happen to have a great many objects from mother's side of the family. Things no-one else has seen and didn't know existed ... except me!

This is a letter she began on June 27, 1902. She begins it "Dear Papa" and tells him "I am going to write you anyway if you did just go yesterday." A sentence later she mentions how "To-morrow I am thirteen. The boys says I am going to get a lot of whippings and I believe it." She then stops the letter because she has to go for dinner.

She picks the letter back up on June 29, 1902, the day after her thirteenth birthday. In the photo below is what she writes about her birthday.

"Last night we had a very nice time. We had Myrtle and a little friend of hers, Rachel Green, Alice, Harold, Ethel, Frank, Louise, and our family to have the fun.
We were to to have molasses taffy to pull and so while Jeanette was cooking it we played games. There was a dozen of us to pull it and so we had lots of fun. I wish you could have been here.
I got a bicycle and fifty cents from you (*side note - I think she said 'you', there is a hole in the letter there and it makes it hard to know for certain*), a box of bonbons from the boys, (Bones and Jame), a bag of marsh-mallow cookies from Harold; and a plate of elegant fudges that Ethel and Alice gave me. Besides lots of whippings."

So -- why does this strike me so and what is the lesson? Ok, 1) let's all be clear - the whippings were in good fun. I know you remember getting them + one to grow on as y'all grew.
Since that's not it, what is it?

It's the general simplicity of the time. It's the gifts of food and the fun of pulling taffy. It's "we played games" and knowing they were likely outside playing them, making them up as they went. It's how much she honestly seemed to enjoy it. And she was turning 13!! THIRTEEN!! No cellphones. No designer clothes (hey, they had those back then).

These days if you go to a party, any party, you're likely to spend $20 at the very bare minimum on a gift. And that price is more accurate if you're lucky.
Things cost more than they did over a hundred years ago, that's obvious. Things cost more than they did five or ten years ago. But there is a bigger price paid.

You wind up paying a fair chunk of change for a gift. SOMETHING to give the person. Not something terribly special, but something that you might think they'd like or it might make you think of them. Just really a gift because it is __fill in the occasion__ and you have to get them a gift. A lot of times there is the added pressure of making sure that all the other people attending said occasion will be equally as wow-ed by your gift and envious that you found THAT to give to the honored person.

And they usually like it. But eventually it becomes clutter. More stuff. More toys that need batteries, which have to constantly be bought. More things you stub your toe on. More interesting items you set aside somewhere with a plan for it whenever that infamous "one day" comes along.

Sadly, if you asked me what I got for my birthday or Christmas I'd be hard pressed to tell you. And I'm not boasting because I got so much stuff. Comparatively speaking (in the Western/American society I live in) I didn't. But, in the end, most of it was likely stuff.

My Lesson From Pom & her Friends (oooh .. peer pressure!):

*Less is more.
*If you're going to get a gift, think about the person truly. Sometimes there are those truly special things and that's ok.
*Make them something.
*Make them food that, hopefully, you can all enjoy sharing.
*Make them a card, play-dough (shout out to my friend Cat who made Shannon play-dough one year for his birthday. It was AWESOME!)
*Spend time with them on their special day. Have fun. Laugh.
*Laugh!! -- That was worth two lines.
*Create memories ~ they'll enhance your brain & your heart!

This is my new way of looking at occasions & gift giving. If you're attending something in our honor, please follow these lessons. If you have to spend something, try to keep it under $10.

Our economy is in bad shape. Our environment is in worse shape. We all, likely, already have too much stuff.

I hereby give us all permission to, from this moment on, be free of stuff. Follow Pom's lessons (and her friends' & family members'!) and embrace the simplicity and honesty of it all.

What do you think?

Welcome June!

A photo of our first true harvest of the year. 2lbs 5oz of shiny, freshly picked tart cherries. We went out early this morning to gather them before the temperature began to climb to high. Tristan has a skinned knee (which necessitates being carried as much as possible and dramatically hobbling when forced to walk) from a riding tumble so he sat on the bench, an old church pew, and watched as Shannon and I worked our way around the 6 1/2' tall tree. We picked one ... yes one, single, little strawberry this year. Our black-eyed susans have spread like crazy and choked them out. So, this is our first real harvest.

June is here. I don't know where you live but, as much as I love the Summer Solstice, it does NOT mark the beginning of Summer for me. Not when we have several days of temperatures in the 90's. Nope. Summer began a while back. Whenever it got hot enough for me to crave a pool. Which, amazingly enough, we got this year. Every year we've had some form of kiddie pool and this year is only a slight exception. We've been able to move out of the driveway and into the backyard where there now sits a 15' round above ground pool. Justin's parents had an extra one and so, viola, now we have a pool. Sure, I can sit on the bottom and the water comes up to my chin but, ya know what?? I don't care!!! Because it is nice and cool!! It's a friggin' tropical paradise in my mind! I would seriously spend the majority of my time there lately if I could. Of course, once Tristan decides he routinely likes getting in the pool that'll just make the experience even better. Right now it's a battle that involves lots of tears and screaming and forcing him into a swimsuit, then sometimes literally plopping him down in the pool. He cries for a minute or so then remembers that he really LOVES playing in the pool and happily does so for a couple of hours.

The chickens aren't too thrilled about this heat though I am sure they're at least happy that we decided (wisely it seems given the heat) that after last year's HOT HOT Summer they needed more shade and so their 'winter chalet' has become their permanent home. Plus, the tractor needs rebuilding and I don't think it would've survived being hauled around the yard much longer.
But since they still aren't so happy about the heat they aren't laying quite as productively as they had been. We've had a couple of no-egg days. Though, when I went out to gather yesterday's eggs this morning (yea, I forgot yesterday, it happens) I found Patti nesting on the floor of the coop. I leaned in there and forced her off. She was sitting on 3 eggs. I am hoping they are not that old. I don't think they are, and I know they're fine outside the fridge for quite a while on their own anyways.
So .. it's Tally Time!!

May Egg Tally: 79 eggs (only three less than in April)
Year To Date Egg Tally: 349

Still pretty sweet!!

Also going on around here ... hmm, let's see. Shannon is in the process of doing his first year of end of the year testing required for homeschooling. Justin is the one handling this as I have a lot of issues with the whole thing. Plus, it allows him to have some more direct involvement with their schooling and that is good.
Tristan just finished up Story Time at the local library for the year and this Summer we'll be sending in his first NOI for kindergarten.
We've finally got a logo for our brewery, which is pretty sweet. If you want, take a second and go check it out http://soulonebrewery.blogspot.com. We've even been able to get some merchandise for it already which is really cool. I'll post the photos of that stuff on that blog as soon as I can.
You may have noticed the profile photo change on here. Finally a photo of me with dreads!! My dreads are already 6 months old now. Yes, people with dreads talk about "how old their dreads are." Dreads are an on-going thing. They change as they age. It's cool. Except in Summer, when your dreads reach down the middle of your back. Then it's pretty darn hot. High ponytails have become a staple for me. But, again, here is where dreads can be fun. You can wrap up a pretty massive bun if you've got the length for it (I do!). You can tie your hair up in an updo using one or two of your dreads ~ try that with a pencil!! I have been known to wear mine up in high pigtails using only the dreads themselves to secure them. Plus there are wraps and bandanas and etc to wrap them up with. That's always really fun.
And, finally, a reason why I haven't been posting on here as much. I've taken on more work with the Main Street Newspapers. I now do at least a feature a week for The Vinton Messenger and the Cave Spring Connection papers. I also do here & there stuff for The Salem Times Register. ALSO - I'm now doing a lot of online stuff for them. You can check them out at http://www.ourvalley.org
It's really, really cool and something I love doing. I finally am getting paid to write. Very cool. However, it is also a huge adjustment period for me. Being able to work from home means I can work whenever, but it also means I need to learn to decided when exactly that whenever might be, and (very importantly) when it isn't.
So, to try and implement this, this morning here is what I've done: picked cherries, weighed cherries, gotten sourdough bread going, fed the sourdough starter, fed the kefir, got the dishes going, fed dogs, gathered eggs, done the tallies, BLOGGED!, sent kids to their rooms for fighting, and then let them play outside once they've decided their done fighting. No, I haven't gotten my shower yet (be glad you can't smell me through the computer I suppose), but I'll get to that shortly. And I've only checked work email through the phone, where I haven't replied, just looked at one email. :)

And there is the beginning of our Summer here. How is your's going?