Bart the Buck

So, I found him in the trash can, Oh Bart the Buck

He reminds me of my hometown, and the deer camp, Oh Bart the Buck.

He's useful in so many ways.. like helping out with smores and basic kitchen chores..

He's a friendly, playmate for swinging outdoors..

Her new best friend, in whom she adores..

He won't stop at any cost,

to be a helper,  even with the chalk..

even in the car, we shant get lost..

Oh I'm so glad I found you, Bart the Buck..

When you need a friend, I'm your buddy...

The world will not end, Oh Bart the Bucky.

Are you feeling lucky?

Can I have this dance, my Bucky? Oh, Bart the Buck.

'

If there's some learnin' that needs doing..

Some playin' that needs a tune..

I learnt all I know from deer camp..

I even howl at the moon..

Just give me a little 'ttention

And a little chore to do..

Cuz I'm just a helpful little creature
Bart the Buck is here for you............



linking up to Moms the word.

open Parmesan cheese containers..

There are certain "indicators" that life is disorganized.  One of them is the parmesan cheese test, developed by a well known organizing psychologist, Dr. Ima Hedgehog.

So, it is very easy to administer this test and quantify the results.  You don't need to fill out little circles or stick your tongue out randomly to demanding professionals.  This test can be done in the convenience of your own home, at your leisure.

So, all you need to do is take everything out of your refrigerator.  Some (boring) people call this "cleaning the fridge".  This is a serious psychological evaluation.  Stop trying to discredit it!

So, after everything is out of the fridge, take a look around.  What do you see? Do you see a container of parmesan cheese?  good.  That means you are a normal American who likes an occasional spaghetti dinner with some parmesan. Give yourself an A.  You are organized.  Finishing cleaning the fridge and go to bed.  What is left in life to conquer?

Do you see more than one open container of parmesan cheese? Uh-oh.. things got a little messy this week.  Someone went ahead and started a new container before the first one was gone.  You get a B.  Now, if you had an assigned location for parmesan cheese, your family and guests wouldn't have gone foraging around for more.

Do you see three containers of parmesan cheese? Well, what have you been doing?  How long has it been since you cleaned the fridge? probably 3 weeks or more.  You are getting a C.

Do you see four containers of (open) parmesan? Do you have a secret life?   Opening a pizzeria? You clearly do not have a menu plan and eat the same thing every night.  Your kids probably live on pasta. D.

What about five open parmesan cheese containers? I'm not sure what to think. . They are still making this stuff.  Do you have a hoarding complex? See a professional. F

So, what has prompted me, Dr. Ima Hedgehog, to develop such a thorough psychological organizational evaluative tools?

Very simple.  The FIVE open containers of parmesan cheese that my daughter found while cleaning the refrigerator of one of her clients.  I can't divulge who her client is but I think she has a traveling addiction , five children, and loves to tell crazy stories.  She loves to write about organizing without a whole lot of thought about whether or not she is actually feeling organized at the moment.

This client suffers from delusion and lacks no amount of self adulation.  Nevertheless, she means well, so we did not charge her for the evaluation.  She has opted to go without therapy, claiming that blogging is her therapy.  whatever.  There's not a whole lot I can do for people like that. 

Back in the saddle..

O.K. I am really home this time, and I plan to stay home.  I may end up going somewhere small this summer, but I really really really need to clean this place up!!  Have you ever been so overwhelmed with the house that you don't even know where to start?

That is kind of how it was this morning.  I knew I had to start somewhere--anywhere, but how can I make progress in such a large house? and so much going on?

So, when I feel that way, I try to start small--in a corner.  In my case, small is my bedroom and bathroom.  If I could just sort the dirty clothes from the clean.  If I could just put away my cosmetics/ toiletries from my suitcase.  If I could just put the shoes in the shoe pile, rather than all over the house.

So, I put in my IPOD and just blitzed the bedroom and bathroom for an hour.  Put away clean clothes.  Sort dirty clothes.  Hang up. Toss out. Wipe off. Put away.  Make bed. check, check, check.

And it ALWAYS feels overwhelming.
And it ALWAYS feels great when I do it.

And this is what keeps me from being a professional procrastinator.  I have retrained my brain to reach for the endorphins at the end of the hard-work tunnel--even before I officially arrive at the other end.

I have managed to reach the rewards at the end of hard work often enough that I can load up and charge on a sort of endorphin credit, if you will--knowing that the job WILL get done because that's the way it is going to be, and I will like every minute of it.

Which reminds me of a story.  Yes, another story.

Did I tell you this one yet?  I hope not.  But if I have, here it is again.

So, we're in Brussels, waiting to board the plane for Chicago.  And the gate keeps switching, the passengers were dragging their suitcases from here to there, and someone randomly asks what was going on or when we were going to get on or something like that.

So, I answered them.

"This is what is going to happen.  We are going to get our seats called, we're going to board the plane, we're going to get on, read the inflight magazine, get a snack, watch a movie, have a nap, have another meal, watch another movie, and eight hours later we'll be in Chicago, and we're going to like every minute of it!"

Well, this lady just laughed and laughed and asked me how many children I work with.  She was not at all surprised when she found out I had a large group of my own children and randomly parent anyone else's child who needs it at the moment.

Later on in the flight, I found my friend.  I asked her if she had completed her checklist of things to do on the plane yet.
I told her,
"I really don't like a flight that's under eight hours.  It's hard to get everything on my list done in less time.."

She just giggled every time I opened my mouth.

and I think her flight was enjoyable, if it wasn't I didn't give her permission to not "like every minute of it"!!

So I'm looking into the trash can and..

It's never the big events that get put on the blog, you know.  Sure, I went to Egypt and almost got "bought" by a 14 year old for about 50,000 camels, but that never gets on the blog.  Sure, I went to Vesuvius and the bus driver sings opera "Falicula" all the way down the mountain.  Sure, I met some terrorists in the airport, and do they make it? no.  I think not. (Well, I was profiling on the last comment, but still...)

What do I write about here anyway? trash.  It's all about trash today.

We had just finished the last counseling class at Moody today and I was about to throw out my cup of pop in the trash can, and I noticed something.

horns.

well, not horns.. antlers.  So, sure enough, I reach my hand in there and grab the antlers.

Now this is where what I do marks a division between what normal people do and what I do.

Would a normal person notice antlers in the trash? Would a normal person reach in and pull them out?

I'll leave you pondering those questions while I explain the next thing that happened.

Those antlers were attached to a small (16") ceramic deer.

So, as you can imagine, I have a beady-eyed 12 point buck staring at me right now.  The computer helpdesk fella just stopped in his tracks and wondered if I had brought a pet into the computer lab with me.

I have a friend who has a seizure dog with her at all times.  I feel left out, so I carry a small 12 point buck with me.  It makes me less homesick.  Not that I'm actually homesick.  But if I were homesick, a small deer would be just the thing to console me, wouldn't it?

Or the sound of a chainsaw.  I love the roar of a good chainsaw.  That also makes me homesick for the U.P.  Sights and smells of home--a waft of freshly cut birch and the vision of woodchips flying in fountain formation.  Doesn't get any better than that.

So, back to the deer.

As I was hovering over the trashcan, a man walks out of his office and notices me with it.  He told me he was cleaning out his desk and he had that deer for 25 years.  This was his last day at work.  Man, the stories that deer could tell!  I don't think I've had anything for 5 years, except my husband and kids.  O.K. my parents.  But nothing like a ceramic deer.

So, now the deer is going on a new adventure.  First things first.  I need to get this deer out of the building and bring him home to Rockford.  He'll be sitting amongst the Chinese lanterns that Joanna ordered for her birthday party this weekend.  I'll be putting post-it notes on his antlers.  I'll be drying small dish cloths on his back.  I'll be giving him a new lease of life.  And in the process, entertaining every naive person who reads this blog. 

Another day in the life..

"I'm going to have to interrupt this very important travel-blog with some real life happenings.  I was going to be totally disciplined about getting trip stuff up, but funny things happen.  And if I don't "write in the moment", I forget the crazy details, and then.. it reads like a newspaper headline--choppy, stiff, formal, blah.  You have newspapers if that's what you want to read, eh?

So, let's set the scene.

I'm in my car driving home.  I had just been to Chicago to pick up my husband from Moody and I dropped him off at work.  I was on the very end of my journey and there's this crossing of two roads, about a half a mile from my house.  For those of you who know my area, it's the crossing of Meridian and Kelly--cornfields on all sides.  There are no buildings, no stop lights, just a basic stop sign.

So, while I'm stopped at the basic stop sign, I notice two old guys, hobbling along carrying suitcases.  Well, they weren't that old, but like 50-60ish.. and they looked hot and exhausted.  I figured their car broke down and they needed a ride somewhere.

So, I stopped the car,

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're headed to Sioux City, Iowa"

"Did your car break down?  Are you planning to walk all the way there?"

"No, we're trying to catch a ride.  We're hungry, thirsty, broke... anything you can give us will help."


"Do you have any weapons on you?  Anything at all?"

No weapons.  A small pocket knife.  I handed them a jug of water.  One of them drank it down speedily.  I handed them $4.00 cash.  (It's all I had in my wallet)  I looked around the car for some food.

No food.  And then I prayed.

"Why don't you guys come to my house and I'll give you lunch.  And I'll drive you to your next stop."

And then I got to thinking.  I have two men in my car and I'm bringing them to my house.  What are my kids going to think?

Hiya kids!  Mommy is home.  I know I've been gone all day, but can we invite these two homeless guys in and feed them lunch??  They are safe.

So, that is pretty much what we did.  I didn't tell them that I had like.. a million kids.  And if they had any intention of doing anything sneaky, a new kid (bigger than the one who just came out) kept coming and coming out.  Finally, one of them asked,

"So, how many kids do you have?"

At that point, I really wanted to say "12"--just incase they wanted to pull something.

But I was honest and said, "only 5"..

To which one of them said, "Five?!!"

And when you are a tired old man, I guess five seems like a lot.  When the are 15 and already 6'1", I guess that seems intimidating, eh?

So, I never did feel unsafe in any way--which is, of course, what you are wondering.  I did watch them like a hawk, but the Lord gave me a peace the entire time.  I know we live in a crazy day and age where horrible things happen to good people all the time.  I am not naive, but the Lord was in this.  And it is a sad day when you can not respond to the promptings of the Lord because of fear.

So, I gave them some lunch and asked them to give me their personal stories.

Don is 51 and grew up in Escanaba, MI (an hour from where I grew up).  He has worked the carnival circuit all his life--a wandering kind of life.  He has children--all by different women.  He claims to be born again, but he seems to have very little understanding other than the basics.  I asked him if his mother was alive and he said she was.  To which I asked, "What does she think of your nomadic lifestyle? and how often do you call her?"  (Don's mother, you can thank me later, OK?)

Mike has a sadder story.  He had a farm in Iowa and was doing very well financially.  One day the market went down and he lost everything and his wife.  He took to drinking and depression.  He ended up in Rockford to try to live with his daughter.  His daughter's husband beat him up and kicked him out. Now he was homeless and helpless.  Wounded in body and spirit.  He showed me the deformities on his hands where his daughter's husband had injured him.

Both guys met at the Rockford Rescue Mission and agreed to hitch-hike together to Iowa and find work there.  Don hitch-hikes all the time.  Mike looked scared to death of the whole idea.  These guys hardly know each other and yet they are embarking on this dangerous journey together.

From there, I explained to Mike about the saving grace of the Lord Jesus.  And gave him a Bible, $10.00 more, two water bottles each, and seven peanut butter sandwiches.

So, we loaded everybody back into the car (including big teenage son) and drove them to where they said they wanted to go.  When I got the spot, I said, "If you promise to read the book of John before you go to bed tonight, I'll bring to to Byron"

to which (Don) responded, "how far will you take us if I agree to read the entire New Testament?"  LOL.

(for those of you who are following this geographically, they were not permitted to hitch-hike along the main highway, so they had to take the back roads)

I just dropped them off in Byron.  Mike was so respectful that he refused to call me anything other than "Mrs. Webber"--even though I am probably younger than his daughter.  And I asked him to call when they got settled.



So, when Will got home from work, he said, "And this all happened.. today?!!????"  yup.
Another day in the life.

Another day in my hedgehog, who-knows-what-is-going- to-happen next life!

Roma

I'm finally getting to putting up some posts from our Mediterranean honeymoon trip.  Our first stop was Rome, or Roma, as they call it.  

Although our cruise was all over the Med, it started in Rome, so we arrived here a day prior to the trip and were able to see one major site.  I really wanted to see the Colosseum.

 We went on an English tour and tried to learn as much as we could in the short few hours that we were there.

 It is estimated that over a million people died in this building during its heyday.  I honestly felt like I was standing on holy ground.

 When people say that the debauchery of our country rivals that of ancient Rome, I am not sure we are there yet.

 People were killed in this auditorium for the mere purpose of giving others pleasure of seeing a gruesome battle.

 And if that did not satisfy their needs, there were plenty of orgies and other forms of wickedness going on below the main events.  I can only imagine what it would be like to be a true believer during this time of history.  Probably the safest place for avoiding sin would be in the mouth of lion--not that I am advocating bringing back such atrocities.

 More photos from Julius Caesar's Forum area.

 A "gladiator" who was a large part of the colosseum events.

History speaks, do we listen? 

I should be organizing, but..

Here I am sitting in my living room, wanting desperately to enjoy life and feeling the pull of the basement clutter coming to choke me around the neck.  Seriously, stuff makes me nervous.  So, I did a half-mast organizing job on the upstairs, though and that is about all I am going to do.

So, what's a half-mast job look like?  It looks pretty good, but it is not at all kosher.  Basically, you dump the contents of whatever is bothering you out on the floor and reduce it two piles.  Pile number one is everything you want to keep in this space.  Pile number two is everything else.  Everything else is a combination of stuff to save, trash, and UFOs.  Pile number two is a great big indecisive pile.

Then pile number two goes into a paper bag into another room.  Pile two is a project for another day.

Yeah. impressive. I know.

And then you go outside and have a water balloon fight and promptly forget about the piles, both good and bad.  Because this is summer, and I need a life, already.

See? Isn't that awesome?  I need to write a book or something an somehow copyright my awesomeness.

And why am I writing about organizing INSTEAD of writing about my trip?  I promised a trip post or two.  My bad.  Have you ever left town and kept your five children at home (without another adult there?) ??  yeah.

So, of course, the house was still standing.  But beyond that...  

So, there's nothing like a couple of piles of grunge and clutter to inspire a massive organizing blitz.  Except that it's about the heat and the humidity that has descended on our environs.

Do you remember last year when I was complaining (almost non-stop) about the heat and humidity??  So, know how much I love it, eh?

But, we are about to embark on the busiest summer in a long time.  In fact, our beloved summer Orchestra (NICYO) is probably not going to included in our busy schedule this year.. :((

And.. despite the fact that I rarely even write about organizing, let alone do it anymore, I am going to be doing some part-time professional organizing soon.  I didn't apply for the job; they just found me.  I don't even tell people that I do this because... like.. who has time to work??  But they made me an offer I can not refuse.  I can work as few or as many hours as I want on any kind of schedule I want.  How can you beat that?

Also, I love a good party.  And that is good, because we are going to all of them this year.  All of our friends, our friends' kids and our kids' friends are having parties for some reason or another: Graduations,  birthdays, or weddings are the top parties.  We only have three this weekend.

And Hud is taking driver's ed now.  So, we'll be launching our third driver.  Thankfully, he got all B's or above in his classes or he'd still be riding his bike. And I am not kidding.  And "Hudrielli" as he currently calls himself, is taking cello this summer again, probably a summer camp also.

And then I have this friend in Wisconsin who wants ALL of our kids to come and spend two weeks with her to have them be a video that she is making.  On what? I don't know.  But, of course, they want to do that.  Don't blame me if they become famous or something.  I just serve lunch around here.

Of  course I want to teach pilates again.  Teaching pilates is one of the only things that gets my tush to the gym and other locations like Hamilton Sundstrand and Inner Elements and maybe at some church in Rockford--working with homeschooling mommies.  (I have a special burden for my fellow homeschooling mommies because everything in the universe works against your fitness goals when you are in this stage of life!)

Joanna is planning her 17th on the 17th birthday party, which will actually be on the 19th.  She's hoping to attend a Christian photography camp in Portland in August, AND go to Wisconsin for two weeks AND corn detassle, etc.  And it wouldn't bother me if she actually figured out what she would like to do after high school??

Jamie is working full time at Hamilton Sundstrand as a co-op.  Other than attending a Bible conference called "Vessels of Honor", he doesn't really have a life.  That sounds bad.  O.K.  He has a life, but I'm not sure what he is doing other than working, hanging out with the family and going to the gym.  I suppose that is enough.

Nathanael is planning to corn detassle and go to Wisconsin, but his summer is looking pretty relaxed so far.  He did help me plant some of my garden this year, which I am so thankful for.  While we were gone on our vacation, I kept wondering how on earth I was going to put in a garden.  So, I am thankful for the free tomato plants and a worker to put them in!

Emily has a one track mind.  All she wants to do is go to Magic Waters--a nearby waterpark.  And I'll be honest, I love that place too! Yeah for the wave pool!

So, now that I've gotten all of that off my chest, I think I'll relax and go organize something. LOL.