More Childhood Entertainment

In response to my post about Schoolhouse Rock, I was reminded by an anonymous commentator of another childhood memory (even harder to remember now that I'm officially 33...*sigh*), one that was likely unique to our family and overactive imaginations.

Once again let's go back to the days of Saturday morning cartoons...when for most kids, the entertainment only began with the actual cartoon broadcast. With my family, it was just not so...we could be entertained by a packing peanut (seriously - take a pen and put some eyeballs on it, and you have an instant caterpillar). In the wee Saturday mornings at Grandma and Grandpa's, we were entertained from the very moment the TV was turned on, no matter how early. You see, not everyone has a cousin who aspired to be a meterologist, as Jodie most definately did. Every Saturday of cartoon watching, Chad (my other cousin) and I were treated to a weather forecast while we waited for the cartoons to start.

Yep, this is the color screen which I believe is actually used to calibrate cameras. But to us, it was weather. Jodie was quite the weather girl, sometimes even using a yardstick as a pointer. As I remember, the weather usually broke down something like this:

It wasn't always the same...of course the weather changes. And Jodie was VERY official, with comments like, "Today in the nation's midsection, they will be experiencing high levels of sunshine. However, in Alaska, they will be having strong snow storms followed by hail. In California...tornados." We were fascinated, and begged for repeated forecasts. And when Trent and Tye joined the fray, they also demanded a forecast. Only Jodie could give an accurate one, though.

Our weather forecast was usually concluded with the National Anthem, followed of course by cartoons and a happy afternoon of playing outside. And though we thoroughly enjoyed them all, nothing beat The Forecast.

To this day, I can't see a color bar screen without thinking of the weather. Jodie truly missed her calling.

Why I Exercise at Home

This is why, even if I lived close to a gym, I wouldn't join. I had a similar experience with a treadmill at the Joplin Family Y once...

Blast From the Past

Remember watching Saturday morning cartoons? You know...back when we had three channels, and cartoons were for Saturday morning only - before Cartoon Network, and the myriad of other Disney, Nick, and whatever 24-7 cartoon channels there are now. Anyone who was a kid in those days MUST remember the animated educational shorts covering grammar, history, and government - School House Rock. I used to love those! And wonder of wonders, they are ALL on YouTube!


Check them out for a rocket back into childhood. Marden and I stayed up late one night watching all of them.


Here's my very favorite, "Interjections."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QsEMSVdedc



Or another fav - "A Noun is a Person, Place, or Thing";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOoGJmZdfMc&feature=related



And I would've never remembered my planets without "Interplanet Janet";
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfPEvKsme-c


And here's Marden's favorite (about pronouns), "Rufus Xavier Saspararilla"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOaty7FpwMI&feature=related


And one of the great American History ones:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofYmhlclqr4&feature=related


There are too many good ones to list! Just go check 'em out for a good dose of nostalgia...some are more annoying than I remember, but most are pretty great. Cheesy and dated, but great.


Mom, after helping you grade papers...I think your kids could use a dose. :)

The Coop in the Sky Has 10 More Residents

Today dawned a beautiful, sunny, warm day...a fine day for Team Meatie to fulfull their destiny. Without saying too much in sympathy with the squeamish, it really wasn't that bad. It was quick, hopefully painless (for the chickies), and went relatively fast for a newbie...approximately 30 minutes per chicken from start, to plucking, to finish.

Au Revior Meaties...I will not miss moving your poopy pen, feeding your ravenous single-minded selves, or constantly keeping you out of the rain, warm in the cold, and tending to your every need. But I rest easy knowing I did all these things well, and that you had good lives.

And I look forward to supper...

Mad Kitty

So the last post was kinda heavy, so I'm following up with this pic of Sam...post-bath. He's not happy, as he never is after a bath. And it takes him DAYS to recover before he starts acting sociable again, and before he gets back to his full poofiness. Heh...it never gets old...

Invasive Non-Native Species

While this term is usually reserved for critters and plants, today I am relating it to people. We just found out that the cattle ranch up for sale over the ridge facing our house has sold - to some real estate developers who have already chopped it up into plots and cleared many many many trees. Every day I now hear the rattle and rumblings of big equipment, and it makes me sad. Unfortunately, we live in an area for sale, and an area which has really become popular with retirees. All of it seems to be for sale...farmers and ranchers can't afford to stay in business anymore, and thanks to ETHANOL, which has driven up the cost of corn so high that feed is absolutely ridiculous, the death knell is sounding for a lot of farms. In this area near the lakes, that translates to being bought, chopped up, and sold at horrendous prices to all these retired imports from Chicago, Wisconsin, Florida, and California. Areas where land prices are jacked up anyway, so what seems absolutely ridiculous for us is pocket change for them. I guess Florida got too crowded and expensive, so now they're going to crowd and carve up Arkansas. If the Ozarks have to be carved up and crowded, it would be easier to swallow if it were at least people from the genaral area with the same ways and attitudes.

These are the folks I'm referring to in the title. Invasive Non-Native Species are usually unwanted and detrimental to the native species. Now, I don't meant to fault anyone for wanting to spend their retirement years in a nice quiet place, but it goes way beyond just settling down somewhere to blend in with the local population. These Invasive Non-Natives, (or INNS, as I now call them) seem to comprimise at least 60%-70% (in my estimate) of the local population, so running into one is a pretty high percentage. I've noticed definate undesirable trends with the INNS. First, they seem to see real locals - people who grew up in Arkansas, and even Missouri (yikes - that's me), or I've further found out - anybody in the general southern regions, as backward, ignorant, redneck slobs who are just DARN LUCKY that people from the northern civilized areas are moving in to save us from ourselves. I overheard one talking the other day...saying something about had northerners not started moving down here, for goodness sake we'd still be driving around on dirt roads living in cabins, "don'tcha know"...and "those ignorant locals don't know how thankful they should be."

I just about said something...maybe I should have, but I don't know what it would've been. But this attitude amongst the INNS seems very common, so yes...I'm generalizing and stereotyping. This isn't to say there aren't nice imports...I don't count them into the category of INNS. However, the majority have left a really bad taste in my mouth, and when is enough enough? They want to move away from their native north, but then want to make things here just like up there. Recently I was asked by a native local where I was from originally. When I said "Southwest Missouri", he said, "whew! That's kind of a breath of fresh air...I'm so sick of yankees coming in here telling us how to do things I could scream." Not only was I glad I didn't fit the "yankee category", I can see how he's reached that attitude. I also heard recently that a former Chicago-ite got together a petition to ban livestock near his home because he was bothered somehow. Never mind that the livestock was there before he built his retirement dream home. That's like moving to the desert and then complaining that there are too many cactus..

But, it's really a catch-22. Hubby's family owns a large, very pretty farm not far away, minus the lakes. Very few INNS are moving into the area...there's just not much to do. Unfortunately for us...there's not much for us to do either. Local economy is really struggling, not helped at all by all industry having now pulled up stakes. I expect that had the lakes here not been built, this area would be just as depressed. No INNS, but nothing else either.

I guess I'm wanting that perfect utopia. To have our little farm without worrying what's going up across the road...to go fishing without looking up at the bank to see that they are cramming yet ANOTHER house onto the bank (likely built by an INN with money), and also mowing down the bank trees so house residents will have their nice uninterrupted view of the water. To be able to have cows, chickens, pigs, and whatever else we want without worrying that someone is going to petition for a ban against livestock near their home. I'm not sure there is such a place...

And we're totaly hypocrits. Our 20 acres was once part of a cattle farm.

Anyway, it's not just going on here...it's pretty much everywhere, just more accelerated in some areas. I heard a few days ago about a pig farmer near North Little Rock. He'd been farming pigs for years, but lately big sub-divisions went up around his farm...and you guessed what happened. Those snooty suburbanites (and there are a LOT in Little Rock) wanted to move out "to the country", but didn't like the country smells that were there first. So they did what any American now with an entitlement issue does - they sued.

However, they lost. Pig farmer was there first...and he DOUBLED his herd. Heh. You go pig farmer.

No that I'm a big fan of pig farmers...mom and dad have the opposite problem. They had a neighbor put in a pig farm amongst neighbors who'd been there for years. Now there's a lovely fragrance when the wind is from the right direction. That is completely different...that's just being incredibly rude to your neighbors. It all comes down to who was there first and the general attitude.

And that's my social commentary for today.

On to other brighter news. Yes, I am happy to report another dry day here, and the little cold snap seems to be over. Let's hope it's over until Fall. We're still seeing a lot of effects from all the rain, though. Dams have been running at full power plus, with water coming out of the flood gates. Norfork Lake is still the color of chocolate pudding. Every time I head into town and cross the lake, I think of Bill Cosby saying, "Eat the puddin." I haven't made it over to Bull Shoals, but I'm betting that lake is also brown. And really high. Which translates to constant water generation from both dams, which further translates to TERRIBLE TROUT FISHING for me. I guess that's preferrable to a broken dam, but still. Well, things are looking brighter...poor Daryl is worried about his new dock at the State Park, though. However, I'm pretty confident that it'll be ok. Think positive Daryl!

Walkin' in Memphis

Yeah yeah...cheesy title. But that's what I was doing yesterday...actually, it should be titled, "Walkin' in Memphis and Spendin' Some Money." I'm back now after a little break from the Homestead. Sometimes you just need a break, and sometimes the opportunity presents itself. Last week I was getting a little overwhelmed with the garden beds, and then I had a chicken disaster. Yep. I'm down from 14 Eggers to 12.

One night last week I went to check the garage, and just walked out to see how the chicks were. OOOOHH NOOOO....one of the little doors was open. OPEN??? I SWEAR I closed it...but apparently the spring catch didn't "catch", so I started counting chickens. I got up to 12...crap. Upon inspection of the yard about 40 feet away, I found a pair of little chicken feet...a Buff Orpington was no more. I was also missing a Barred Rock, but no signs of it. No feathers...no nothing but feet...which means usually one thing - DOG. And I just happen to own two already confirmed chicken-killers.

Note to brothers - I need NO snide comments concerning Lucy and how any kind of Chicken Karma has come back to haunt me...so zip it...I don't need your lip.

Well, I was pretty darn upset...I lost the one Buff Orp chick at 2 days old, but that wasn't NEARLY as tough as losing two 7-week olds to a predator. I mean...the work, the worry, the hassle of getting them to this age...it's not that I'm especially attached to the chickens...they haven't exactly reached "pet status", but they do count on me not only for food and water, but to keep them safe, and I blew it. Dogs will be dogs, but not checking that the latch wasn't latched securely lays blame squarely on me.

I'm pretty much over it now. I did get extra in case of an incident like this (I really thought it would be a coon, a hawk, or something like that), so for the time being I'm not replacing the lost chickens with new chicks. Mostly because new chicks = three weeks of nearly constant vigilance, and the house smelling like a barn again. But I've increased my vigilance to avoid this happening again in the near future.

So for my mini-break, I went to visit my old parkie friends Kristyn, Randall, and Kendra over at Lake Charles, and on Friday I went on the Big Memphis Plant Hunt with Kristyn, Corinne, and Corinne's really cool friend Melody. We went to a fundraiser for the Memphis Botanical Garden, several nurseries, and topped it off at the Bonsai Nursery. It was awesome. It was amazing. It was a near-religious experience punctuated by Marden's uttering of the words that make every woman's knees go weak - "use the plastic."

Luckily for our bank account I'm not like most women my age, or that plastic would have been rendered "Maxed Beyond Recognition" within short order. But I surscribe rigidly to putting no more on the card than we can pay off when the bill comes. Darn responsibility. If not for "responsibility", in addition to limited cargo space, we'd be in trouble.

Despite "responsibility", I did make quite a haul. Everything from hard-to-find heirloom tomato plants to crepe myrtles (I bought 6, but two for mom), a fire bush (last one in the whole nursery), various herbs, rare hostas, some perennial flowers (including a really nice clematis), and some annual daisies. Anyone who knows me the least little bit knows I'm a SUCKER for daisies. I got two bunches of the ones pictured at right...the white African Daisy.

The Bonsai Nursery was really the kicker. WOW. There are no words for some of these trees...check this one out! None of these were for sale, but those that were in this size range were topping $4,000. Nope...that's the right amount of zeros. $4K smackers. However, if I were a bazillionaire and had the know-how, I'd have a few. As it is, I think I'm going to have to be content with the "practice tree" that Corinne gave me for free which is on it's last legs (er roots), that I can practice bonsai techniques on. Like I have nothing else to do...but I've wanted to get into bonsai for at least ten years when I bought some bonsai books at a garage sale. Ok, let's face it...really since The Karate Kid. If I can just successfully re-pot this ficus and keep it alive for a little while, MAYBE I'll feel brave enough to drop $25...POSSIBLY up to $45...on a nursery bonsai.

So I'm going to sign off tonight with a couple pics, one of Team Meaty enjoying one more week, and one of Team Piggie (Whitey and Petunia) snoozing in the shade. And a bonus picture of Farmer Marden on Buford the blue Ford tractor.

Walmart

Today I made the weekly foray into town for provisions, which usually means a stop at Walmart. I pulled into the parking lot to see that apparently everyone in town plus the residents from every neighboring county had the same idea. At times like this in the past, I've decided to go on a different day or to go elsewhere. However, my pantry was bare, and I didn't have any coupons for the other grocery stores, which usually means spending significantly more money. In addition...Walmart is on my side of town, and for some reason EVERYBODY decided to get out and drive around Mountain Home today. I didn't want to battle the traffic...even if I do have to pay .08 cents more for a can of beans. I wonder if there was a parade I missed? Was the President in town? A dog show? In any case, I just wanted to get my stuff and get home, so I descend into the open maw of double doors, only to realize that they are... remodeling.

What? Why is it necessary to remodel Walmart? I just found where things are, and this was already the most jacked-up Walmart I've ever seen. But I muster my courage and soldier on. While trying to find a certain hook-latch contraption for the chicken coop, I could hear the old people, and they are not happy. I can completely understand. While I find it exceptionally annoying that they're moving everything around, I have grown begrudgingly accustomed to these inconveniences. But, I can only imagine what it's like for a person who grew up in the era of small stores, friendly sales people, and not having to tramp all over tarnation to get a simple light bulb. When going shopping was an enjoyable outing, not a task I usually lump in with "scrubbing the toilet."

I was browsing the area where I thought these latches might be, when I heard a loud and gravelly, "GOOD GOD-ALMIGHTY HERE I CAME ALL THE WAY OVER HERE FOR A COTTON-PICKIN' FLOOR HEATER AND THEY'VE GONE AND MOVED EVERYTHING AROUND!!!", coming from behind me. I turned to see a very red-faced old man shuffling up the aisle cussing a blue streak and glaring. I got out of there. Perhaps I should have helped him find the floor heaters, but for all I know they are now kept where the Pharmacy was, and he looked like he had it out for anyone under the age of 65. And I did find my latch...where the plumbing supplies used to be. As I made my way over to groceries, I heard many more of these exclamations. It's amazing that Walmart has us so over a barrel that they can tick us off this much, yet we're still shopping there.

After getting my groceries in record time, I head for the cashiers and picked the shortest line. I either have a knack for picking unfriendly cashiers, or they are just mostly unfriendly. Again, I can understand. Walmart cashier is probably not first on most people's list for a job.

I knew I'd just ruined my cashier's day when I plopped down my resuable shopping bags. Now, I purchased these bags at Walmart...they sell them so fast they can't keep them in stock, yet I NEVER see anyone else using them! I think they're great...not only do I avoid the Mt. McKinley stacks of white plastic in my pantry (you can only use so many for wastbasket liners), but the resuable ones hold 5x more AND they sit up in your car! Not only do my canned beans stay put instead of rolling into every corner of my car, but I can now get everything in the house in 1-2 comfortable trips instead of 50 with the plastic cutting into your hand. But who's using them besides me? I can't believe everyone's not using them...I mean besides the environmental benefits, they are just way more practical. The only drawback is carrying them into the store...but since they fold up nicely, they are definately less of a pain than a purse. I guess another drawback are the looks you get; "Look at you with your holier-than-thou reusable shopping bags...obviously a liberal Democrat (which I am most definately not) AND an environmental wacko who's too good to use regular shopping bags..."

Which is funny, because in a lot of places, especially toward the coasts, I hear there is a lot of peer pressure to use reusable bags. Here, you're an oddball.

But back to the cashier - this lady wasn't happy. Apparently, they're not quite as easy to fill as having a ready-to-go plastic bag on the turntable thing. She gave me a look, sighed, took a bag, sighed, and started filling it. Then I proceeded to make her even unhappier. You can get a LOT of stuff in those bags...last trip to Walmart I had an Asian cashier who stuffed those suckers full, and seemed to get the fact that I was using these bags to AVOID the plastic ones. Today's sourpuss cashier was only filling them half full. She then tried putting stuff in a plastic sack, and I said (smiling), "Think you can get more in there?" And she gave me another look, sighed, and proceeded to fill the reusable bag. Toward the end of my purchases, she again filled two plastic sacks. After I paid and had my cart full and she'd started on the next customer, I removed the items from the plastic sacks and found spots in the reusable sacks, and replaced the plastic sacks onto her turntable. I got another glare. I smiled and proceeded to the parking lot...where I got more odd and questioning looks on the way to the car. I'm getting used to it...I just smile and nod.

Moral of the story? I dunno...go to Walmart at midnight.

Into the Wild

Mr. Hooter and I watched a very good movie the other night, called "Into the Wild", which has been on my mind ever since we watched it. It's based on the book "Into the Wild", which is based on the journals of Chris McCandless of how in the early 90's he abruptly left his affluent life after college, as well as family, to hit the road backpacking across the country to eventually reach Alaska to live in harmony with nature.

I remember this story from my high school days, when the discovery of his body in an old bus in a wilderness area of Alaska after an apparent death by starvation propelled his tale into the limelight. I was always fascinated by it...I don't really know why, as it seems clear that Chris was very idealistic and met his end by not being very smart. At the time, as well as now, his story is romanticized and he's become a cult figure and inspiration for many people taking off to backpack across the country, a lot of times making the crusade to the bus where his body was found, which is still there. If he hadn't written a journal, he'd just been forgotten as another crazy hippie. It's really a tragic story, but Chris had guts, and he had quite an interesting life in his last couple of years. I think that's why so many people, including myself, find the story really strikes a chord. I think whether we want to admit it or not, we all have the desire to break away from the mundane, from "society", and from the expected norm.

Or maybe that makes me, as one former co-worker put it..."quirky." Ever since I read the book "My Side of the Mountain" in grade school I've had the overwhelming desire to leave it all and go live in the woods, despite the fact that the more rational side of me knows that, like Chris, I'd find that kind of life isn't all sunshine and flowers. I felt the same way after watching a documentary a couple years ago about ski bums. Wow...I could do that...why not? I could really see myself in Colorado (pre Mr. Hooter of course) being a ski bum in winter, trout bum in summer, working odd jobs here and there to get the funds for both. Even hubby suggests every so often we go be ski/trout bums...but it's totally in jest. We don't have the guts. Besides...the pigs couldn't fit in the car, and Lucy only has three legs so she can't ski.

I guess I'm destined to live life pulled in two directions. On one side, the pull to go against the norms of society toward freedom, and on the other the desire to "nest", which is a malady that seems to resonate in my particular gender. The desire to carve out a nitch that's all my own, and that's permanent. Maybe I've got the best of both worlds, living out of the city surrounded by nature and my critters trying to do the homesteading thing. Either way, even though I can't (or won't) go traipsing off into the sunset with a backpack, I can still keep an adventurous spirit and never quit wondering "what if"...

This was probably my favorite part of the movie...Chris makes an illegal trip kayaking down the Colorado River. Apparently, you have to have a permit...which can take YEARS to get...all to kayak down a river. Though I suppose there are reasons, I found that as ridiculous and as oppressive as movie-Chris did...reminds me of the Socialism being currently crammed down our throats. But...that's another topic for another day...

Manna from Heaven

As if in answer to my last post lamenting our dismal raised bed situation, our prayers have been answered! I do doubt God had anything to do with our windfall, but maybe He at least put in a good word with the garden gnomes. In any case, Providence of some kind has definately shown down on us.

So in my last post, I was lamenting the fact that our raised garden beds just weren't gonna cut it. I'd decided that what we HAD to have if were going to do the raised bed thing and do it right was some rough-cut cedar lumber...probably the sturdiest rot resistant stuff we could get that wouldn't cost a fortune. We checked into railroad ties, but the cresote that constantly leaches out of those are supposed to be bad news for your tender veggies. So we decided cedar was the route to go. I looked online at raised beds...most of which do seem to be made of cedar. I found all sorts of places to order raised bed kits...the cheapest of which was about $150 for a 4' x 8'x12" bed. *GACK*

None of that...we'll do it ourselves. After Marden checked the prices at local sawmills, we figured on a minimum of $25 per 4' x 8'x12" bed. Doesn't sound like a fortune, but it can add up quick. I'm not even sure of how many beds we're going to put in, but originally I had figured on at least 8 beds to get in most of what I wanted to plant...even omitting a few things. Now I've never been accused of being a math whiz, but I believe that's $200. Again, not a fortune, but we are in desperate need of a riding lawnmower, and Mr. Hooter has not yet gotten his promised promotion (nor promotion pay). And it also gets to the point where you have to wonder if $$$ spent on a garden is worth it in the end - the point is to save money on produce. But if you spend major bucks on getting your garden together, where is the savings? $200 will buy a lot of tomatos. As will the $100 we spent already on a load of dirt.

So back to my long-winded story...Mr. Hooter is calling around to sawmills trying to find the cheapest cedar possible, when a guy he works with pops in and says, "Hey...you looking for cedar boards? I'll give you some for free!" I'm sure this man, Mr. Murphy, had a halo and wings. While that fact may be debatable, what is not is that he ended up not having just a piddly pile, BUT about FOUR truckloads of all the rough-cut cedar I could possibly find uses for...did I mention for FREE??? We're talking good heavy stuff originally purchased for furniture-making by this guy's dad. He just wanted rid of it. And as I was picking through the brown recluse-riddled stacks (the largest suckers I've ever seen, by the way), getting filthy dirty and choking on years of dust, I was downright giddy. I would never have guessed a truckload of dirty lumber would ever have made me so happy, but talk about getting EXACTLY what you need at EXACTLY the right time - it's uncanny!

Now I need to try this again...lawnmower....lawnmower....lawnmower...