Big Man on Campus
Ricky went with his church group to a large gathering (hundreds) of middle schoolers at Indiana Wesleyan College Friday and Saturday. Here are the reports I got:

"Ricky knew everyone--kids, adults and even the college students."

"Ricky was introducing people to other people all night long."

"Other youth pastors were seeking me out because they wanted to meet Ricky's youth pastor."

He came home with screen names written all up and down his arms and phone numbers in his pocket.

Our greatest strength is often our greatest weakness. Ricky's social skills will serve him well (and I'm curious to see how his life turns out), as long as socialization doesn't interfere with the task at hand. "Talks too much" was written on almost every report card he received in grade school.

Burgundy leaves, pink flower spikes and fragrant!
Half of my Wayside Garden order arrived today. I planted three cimicifuga in my already crowded shade garden. I just can't resist fragrant plants, though I did not pay $20 a plant.

Does He or Doesn't He?
Rick is interested in his appearance; Ron much less so. For several years, Rick has asked to dye his hair, to which the standard parental response is, "And you want a tatoo and nose ring too?" Recently I told him that the next time I touch up my hair, I will use what's left on his hair. He has beautiful thick dark brown hair, with lots of body and a little curl. I suspect he imagined this would change to thick spiky light blonde hair. Well, we did it last night with L'Oreal dark golden blonde. After 5 minutes into the 30 minute processing stage, he complained that it itched. (I understated his histrionics.) Concerned that he may be having an allergic reaction, I rinsed his hair. The change was very subtle, almost like highlights. I like it. He is disappointed. Now he says that it didn't itch that bad and we need to let the dye stay on longer. Maybe next time. Maybe not. But there are no tatoos or body piercings in his future.

Does anyone want an update on garlic mustard?
It is in full bloom and will soon go to seed. This weed propagates fast. Only a small portion of the woods is not weeded yet. I can knock that out in two hours in the morning. When I wandered through the "clean" areas, however, instead of finding a luxuriant two-foot plant, I found scrawny 2-inch plants hiding their blooms under other foliage. These suckers are intent on setting seed. Can I out-stubborn them?

Due to how fast the mustard was growing, I had to stop clearing the brambles as I weeded. So now I have scratches all over my arms and legs where I've plunged into the midst of raspberry, wild rose and gooseberry brambles to dig up the mustard. One son told me it was a losing battle, but I put him to work anyway.

Recessive Craft Gene
I must have a recessive craft gene because this scrapbooking thing is difficult. My friend and I were the only ones in the scrapbooking class, so I was able to ask a lot of questions. The teacher made it seem easy and fun. I sorted the Oregon pictures and memorabilia over the weekend so I have a rough idea of the layouts. Today I spent lots of money on paper and the basic supplies. Tonight I've just sorted the paper, admired the colors and textures, but was unable to cut and glue. Maybe the muse will hit tomorrow.

This morning Rick tells me in a panic that he is auditioning for show choir today and he needs music. He has not selected a song. He has no music. He has not practiced. I encouraged him to sing "Down In the River to Pray" from "O Brother Where Art Thou." He performed it a cappella in a talent contest last year. What else could I do?

Spring Fun
We spent most of the weekend outside. After cleaning the barn at the Highlands Friday night, parents challenged sons to a full court basketball game. Thanks to Steve, it was a tie game. He kept feeding me easy lay-ups (my only shot) but few went in. And yes, I did run (or walk) the full court but I'm sure it wasn't a pretty sight.

After a day of errands, soccer games and bread-making on Saturday, we cooked dinner over an open fire at The Property. I saved some dough to fry over the fire and we make an egg/potato/sausage dish. We also cooked apples in foil. While we ate, we built up the fire and watched the wind make the fire burn hot. On the way home, Ron said in a creaky old man’s voice, “Why, when I was a youngster, we used to have campfires.” He will remember these times, even though he thought he wanted to play video games instead.

The rains came, soft and gentle and constant, all day yesterday. So back to digging garlic mustard this morning before heading off to Mothers In Touch and then the funeral home to pay respect to my good friend's father and to comfort her as best I can. Tonight I start a new hobby (as if I needed something else) by attending a beginning scrapbooking class with a friend. My goal is to complete a scrapbook of our epic trip to Oregon last year. The raw materials include lots of pictures, my husband's journal and memorabilia from the trip.

Garlic Mustard
I've resisted posting on this topic again even though every spare moment for the last eight days has been spent digging out the vicious little weeds. I heard tonight that it is edible. I'll double check, but I would take great pleasure in letting them know I am on top of the food chain even though I'm not dominant in the woods.

Another Garden Vignette
Along the driveway, between the meadow and Usually Not Creek, wander to the north and this is what you see:

Grape hyacinths blanket the small strip of grass between the driveway and woods.

Daffodills start at the edge the woods and continue as far as you can see. Bright yellow with large trumpets; soft yellow, almost white, with ruffled trumpets; double whites; soft yellow with bright yellow trumpets; medium yellow with orange trumpets. Don't look too closely or you will discover they are starting to wilt. Just enjoy the splash of color.

Next to the meadow the forsythia's bright yellow blooms pick up the daffodil colors. It has been a good year for forsythia.

As you enter the woods, look down. Virginia bluebells, with reddish purple buds, burst into clear blue blooms. They are starting to spread down the slope to the creek.

Hyacinths bloom at the edge of the woodland path, reminders of past Februaries when I could not resist buying a touch of spring. Most are purple with several pink scattered throughout. Forced bulbs usually do not do well, but these provide a decent display for a woodland garden.

Now for the wildflowers. Trilliums are just starting to bloom. Trout lilies carpet the ground with their spotted leaves, but no sign of the yellow blooms. Violets galore - purple, white and yellow. The bloodroot blooms are finished but their attractive leaves are large and showy. Mayapples grow in clumps around the woods. Look close and you may find a wild ginger with its unusual brown flower. Of course, spring beauties rival the violets carpeting the woodland floor.

And the understory canopy drips shocking pink of the redbud softened by the white of the dogwood blooms. I love spring!

UPDATE: Redbuds do not drip; wisteria drips. After observing the scene again, the last paragraph should read: "And floating above are the shocking pink blooms of redbud softened by the white of the dogwood blooms."

Storms
The storms raged all around but we got very little rain. In fact, I moved a leaf this morning and the ground was dry and cracked underneath. Just several miles away, there is flooding. There is a slight chance of rain this afternoon and then clear again.

I was sitting in the parking lot of school waiting for the bus to deliver Ricky and the track team when the tornado sirens went off. It was dark to the south but the stars were twinkling to the north. We live north of the school. The kids piled out of the bus, adrenaline rushing, as if middle schoolers need more adrenaline. Parents were rushing them to the cars, or rather SUVs, creating more excitement. The air was crackling.

Pink, White and Shades of Green
When I walk out my front door, here's what I see in the roughly triangular garden edged by driveway, house and front sidewalk.

The base is green. Height is supplied by two dwarf evergreens and mass is from the blue-green succulent leaves of Autumn Joy sedum. Contrasting this height and mass are the ferny green leaves of Achillea filipendula "Coronation Gold" (yarrow), the ruffled variegated foliage of Aquilegia (Columbine), the grassy, low, blue-green foliage of Dianthus (pinks or carnations) and the spikey foiiage of Siberian iris. Other plants are emerging to provide a background of different shades and textures of foliage. The green foliage is broken up with several dwarf red barberry bushes.

Four varieties of tulips are blooming. Angelique are soft pink and white with a creamy base. The other two tall tulips are a clear medium pink and a dark pink, almost purple. The last tulip is "Persian Pearl," a small hot pink species tulip. Interspersed among the tulips are pure white hyacinths.

None of these plants are unusual. The aesthetic is from the combination and this year's unique blooming times. With a hot dry spring, the tulips are blooming with the hyacinths and the foliage has shot up. I may not see this combination again.

Grubbing
One advantage of going over every square inch of three acres looking for garlic mustard is the micro view I'm getting of the woods. Especially interesting is the changes in soil and the emerging plants. Soon I will have mayapples, solomon seal, false solomon seal. I just hope I'm not disturbing the morel mushrooms that were so abundant last year. Of course, this may not be a good year for mushrooms unless we get more of those April showers. It is so dry.

Spring Day
Sunny. Warm. Daffodils and forsythia in full color. Grass starting to green. I found a few early wildflowers in our woods - bloodroot, trout lily, violets.

I spent most of the day in the woods, grubbing out the pernicious garlic mustard and digging up any multiflora rose and other brambles that I ran into. I am scratched, my wrist is aching, I probably have poison ivy, I am tired. So why do I feel so alive?

Meme

From Sand in the Gears


"If he'd ever in his life hoped for benevolence it must have been on the queasy trot up to the locker room for the midgame pep talk, but his hopes had a hideous end."
-- Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

Now you try:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

The first book I grabbed, A Country Year by Sue Hubbell, only had three sentences on page 23. My book club is discussing this book on Friday. I read it when I turned 50 and it helped me discover how I wanted to live the latter years of my mid-life.

How to Stress Teenagers
On the way to church last night, Rick stated, "Mom, you and Dad really stress my brother and me." My heart drops because I work hard to make our home a sanctuary, a safe place, a refuge from the world for my family. The only way we may put stress on them is ...

"Because we make you do your schoolwork, clean your room, do your chores?" Silence.

"Well, you do nag us."

"If you do it when we ask...or even do it without asking, the problem is solved, " I respond ever so rationally letting that word "nag" fall into the netherland even though I hate hate hate that word.

I hear the gears whirling as he figures out how to backpedal.

"No, it's not the work. I like doing the work. It's just that when I get home, you ask me in a sweet voice, 'How was school today?' and I'm almost 15 and that's my business."

"OK. From now on I will ask you 'How was school today?' in a mean voice."

Interesting Morning
Perhaps it started when I hit the snooze button one too many times. Oh, all right, 3 or 4 too many times. Rick had to take his shower since we were up too late working on math last night for his nightly ablution. While Rick was in the shower and I was walking the dog, Ron decided to straighten his brother's glasses which had become distorted through normal boy activity (wrestling, basketetball, sitting on them). Ron is handy and was confident that he could fix them. He might have been successful if he hadn't popped the lens into the unflushed toilet. Note to their future wives - don't blame their Mom for this bad habit. I've been working on them for years to take one second (or less) and push that little lever.

Little Bean River
Come back with me to a time
long gone
My ancestors walked this
Way
They came from the north and the
East
Following this river down
This river, my river
Gave them life; now
No one sees the water

My husband wrote this last semester as part of an assignment to write a poem in the style of the Chinese poetry they were studying in his Humanities class.

The Miami Indians called the St. Joseph River the “Little Bean River,” thus the title. When the Miami moved into this part of Indiana, they found the river that the French called the St. Joseph.

My husband's ancestors truly walked the banks of the St. Joseph and the banks of Cedar Creek. In the late 1930s, his grandfather was on a crew that built dams on the St. Joseph at Leo and Spencerville, as well as the dam at Cedarville on Cedar Creek.

The St. Joseph is ignored by most people despite its historical significance to this area. Ten thousand coaches cross the bridge on Coliseum Blvd. everyday, yet no one even looks at the river. The St. Joseph River is arguably the primary reason that Fort Wayne was settled; yet, Americans ignore their rivers, and their past.

His poem, “Little Bean River,” was inspired, in part, by “Passing Ti-en Men Street,” by Po chu-i. Po chu-I mentions mountains twice in the poem; the first reference is in line 1, when he names the mountain, and the second reference is contained in the last line when he says, mournfully, that no one looks at the mountains. This line is the line that inspired, partially, “Little Bean River.” When Po chu-I says “a thousand coaches, ten thousand horsemen pass,” my husband was reminded of the traffic on Coliseum when “not one man” will “turn his head and look at the river.”

We have two properties on the St. Joe River and spend a lot of time on it and by it. The "Boys Club," just north of Leo, is where we camp and canoe. And, yes, there is a boys club on the land. I'm allowed in but not allowed to decorate. "The Highlands," upriver near the Covered Bridge, is where we have our tree farm. A day at the Highlands is usually a day of hard work.

Quiz
Being a reader, I was attracted to this quiz. I'm not sure about the results - but I am a cynic and a dreamer.


Darling, it seems that you belong in Gone with the
Wind; the proper place for a romantic. You
belong in a tumultous world of changes and
opportunities, where your independence paves
the road for your survival. It is trying being
both a cynic and a dreamer, no?


Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla

Gardening Fools
Phone Message: Help! I found a list my husband made: clean asparagus patch, clear out creek bank, clean iris beds at church.

This message was left by the wife of one of my favorite gardening buds at church, who also happens to be a spiritual giant and a stubborn man. Unfortunately, his hip problems restrict his activities, which means he can't do the heavy gardening on his To-Do list. So I told her that I would clean up the beds on Tuesday after Bible Study. One problem solved..or so we thought.

He saw me in the garden, went home and changed into his gardening clothes, and knelt down on the ground with a groan as he started grubbing the old leaves out. Of course, he rejected any suggestions that he supervise and I labor. So I worked like a maniac trying to finish fast so he would stop working.

The beds look nice. And I plan to be in the garden at his age.

Front Porch Guests
During the last week, we've had some unusual guests come to our front door: a huge crawdad, a black salamander and, tonight, spring peepers. We enjoyed their company but didn't invite them in.

Ron called me back to his room last night after he went to bed. He gave me a big hug and said, "Mommy, I love you." I can't remember the last time this kid, who is taller than me and shaving, called me Mommy. For a long time, I wasn't sure we could pour enough love into these needy boys to fill that hole in their hearts caused by bouncing between an abusive birth home and foster homes. Every day I am encouraged.

No Change
I just found out that I didn't get the job at the non-profit. They hired someone with employment experience in the non-profit world. While I had mixed feelings about going back to work, I'm so darn competitive that I'm disappointed! On the other hand, the CEO may be interested in hiring me for some consulting work, we don't have to figure out what to do with the boys over the summer, and I will have time to garden this spring.

Different Perspectives
Ron started Hapkido, a martial arts class, a month ago and got his first stripe tonight. The instructor questioned him about school and home before he presented him his stripe. "Is your room clean?" "Yes! Sir!" my son answered him in the proper Hapkido manner, "I cleaned it two weeks ago."

After talking about it for several years, we finally have a corn burner, an A-Maize-A-Blaze. Someone had fun with the product naming. Instead of a freestanding burner in the new room, we went with the fireplace insert. It's very efficient and there is a rich fire glow in the room at all times. I'm still getting used to this black thing stuck in my beautiful fireplace though. The product literature said that the "klinker" - fused ash - could be used in the garden to add potassium. I'm going to check some more before I spread it on my gardens.

Changes Brewing
A friend asked me to comment on "how you're feeling re potential return to work. I know it would probably have me all stirred up, and wondered where your head's at about it. Trepidation? Resignation? Anticipation? Some mixture of these?"

Definitely mixed feelings. I worked for a large insurance company for 31 years, started as a clerk in claims and ended as an officer in marketing. I mostly enjoyed it -- the variety, the opportunities to learn, the friends I made and, of course, the income-- but it ended poorly over two years ago. The situation had become so toxic that it affected my physical and emotional health. Then three days before the company was acquired and a hiring and firing freeze was enacted, I was "terminated without cause."

Thanks to faith, family and friends, I entered a new and renewing season of my life. Being a full-time mother (what mother isn't?) to two teenagers can be stressful, but it is a healthy stress which a sense of humor helps put into perspective. I've had time to volunteer (results of one effort) at church. I took Master Gardening classes and have volunteered for the horticulture educator of NE Indiana. I've done several consulting jobs to keep my marketing skills honed. I've accepted several speaking engagements. I took piano lessons for the first time in my life. I expanded my garden and tackled some large landscaping projects. I've done work on the house. I was a charter member in one book club and then helped start another book club at church. I'm a regular at "Mothers In Touch" and attend a morning Bible Study. And I've had time to have lunch or coffee with friends. My life is rich.

Then one day my husband and I were discussing the problems with the boys' HMO doctor and our desire to get them on another policy. This led to talk about return to work. Steve is a full-time student and works at the Writing Center, so I resisted the idea of him cutting back on his school hours to work while I stayed at home. We left it at that, though, and took no action. Two days later, a former co-worker called about a job opening at a local non-profit on whose board she sits. I've had two interviews and will probably hear about it this week. It would use my marketing skills for a worthwhile cause and they even suggested that the job could be part-time (with benefits). I'm skeptical that the job could be done on a part-time basis, but I love the idea.

So I am left with mixed feelings. If it happens, we will adjust and I will enjoy the work. If it doesn't happen, we will try to get the HMO doctor changed or perhaps I can pursue similar jobs with other non-profits. Since this process started, I've seen two similar jobs in the paper.

My biggest concern is that this opportunity comes at the spring of the year. I will miss having the summer with the boys and I will miss the time in my flower beds.

Who Am I
I hate how this blog signs my entries with "Honey." It's suppose to say "Earth Girl" and I can't figure out how to change it. Oh well, the honey comes from "Honey Bee," a name I entered when I set up the blog. I am NOT the type of person who likes to be called Honey and I am NOT one to call others Honey.

I've also been thinking about changing my description on this blog. It defines me by roles and former roles - wife, mother, marketer. The gardener is a little better since it is one of my passions. At Christmas, I became intrigued with the phrase, "wild and sweet" from "I heard the bells on Christmas day..and wild and sweet their words repeat..." I wondered if the phrase, "Martha, wild and sweet" better defined me. What do you think?

We launched the church's website yesterday. This has been absorbing my time for quite a while, but I had a fantastic group of people working with me to make it happen. Go poke around. Let me know if you see anything that needs to be changed, added or clarified. We are starting the "tidy it up" phase as well as deciding what to put up next.

First Bouquet
I just picked my first bouquet from my garden - nine crocus in various shades of yellow. They first bloomed on Friday, but now it is snowing with a bitter wind blowing. I forced a crabapple branch (more accurately a limb) that the propane truck knocked off about a month ago. This six foot limb is bursting into bloom next to my bed. And I bought three white hyacinths at the store last week, so the house smells like spring.

In an hour or so, Ricky will be under anesthesia having his wisdom teeth pulled, or rather cut out. They haven't emerged yet, but are ready to burst through and wreck havoc with his orthodontia. I'm waiting to wake him since he can't eat or drink, and the longer he is up, the louder the cereal box will call to him. He lost TV and computer priveleges because of the homework situation (see below), but I took him to Hollywood Video last night to rent several DVDs for his recuperation. He must have selected 957 different movies until, finally, I grabbed three and walked to the register. He's in media heaven.