On Carnivorous Plants and Mountain Man:

Mountain Man has a bit of the mad scientist about him. And he likes to experiment with ‘my’ carnivorous plants. He of course likes the Venus Flytrap the best. Instant gratification and all that. The leaf snapping shut on the offered bug. Mountain Man calls this renewable stomachs, I say disposable digestive system. But either way we like watching the processes.

Well the other day he went and fed the Venus Flytrap a slug. This was a bit too heavy for the plant and seeing the Venus Flytrap’s distress he propped it up with a few twigs. The plant dripped slug juice for a couple of days after that, then the leaf turned black. (Not to worry, the leaves are suppose to turn black after a couple of feedings.) And we cut the blackened leaf off like good Venus caretakers.

I am partial to the Butterwort myself. It looks all innocent with it’s little lavender colored flower luring in bugs. But the stem and leaves have a sticky coating that catches bugs and digests them. It is flowerless at the moment in the picture. I also like the cool pale green color of it’s leaves.

The other one we have in that terrarium that you can’t see well in the picture is a Sundew. It has paddle shaped leaves with little hairs on them that have a bead of sticky stuff at the end of each hair. Looking a bit like cactus needles with dew on the end of it’s needles. You know the rest. Bug, stick, digest, discard. Oh, and the white thing in there is the back of a thermometer, we like to keep an eye on their comfort.

Mountain Man is better at catching the bugs alive then I am. But freshly killed or live we feed them to our plants. This is in addition to the bugs that get caught on their own by the plants themselves.

It took me a while to talk Mountain Man into adding these plants to our household. And now Mountain Man doesn’t miss a chance to play with the little dears. It was my ‘house full of bugs’ cry that finally won him over. We heat with wood in a wood stove so bugs come into our house year round with the wood. Not that our house is full of bugs. But we do find them on occasion year round. And you can’t spray the wood for bugs and then burn it, toxins and all that.

Now I am having fun watching both the carnivorous plants and Mountain Man playing with them. I wonder what he will be feeding them next week?

On Weight Gain and Loss:

I appeal to you dear readers. I need to get back on the weight loss trail. And I am going to use you for my accountability if you don‘t mind.

Back in the day. You know, high school. I was 135/140 pounds. I gained with each pregnancy and lost it after that. I had my ups and downs due to illness and such. But the last weigh gain was after my son died and I self medicated with food (mostly chocolate) and I hit 250.

I was loosing and down to 200 when I found the breast cancer. (Thank you new nipple piercing at that time.) And had to stop loosing because they don’t like to have to keep adjusting the meds and I didn‘t have the energy anyway. After that I got back on the weight loss trail again and was down to 160.

I hurt my knees a while back and had to stop doing the exercise bike that had netted me those weight loss pounds. So even though I was trying to just use my vegetarian health food diet I gained back 25 pounds and I’m back up to 185. I don’t do fad diets. What I really do need is to have a better exercise program. So I am starting a Yoga/Tai Chi program today. That along with walking and just having a active lifestyle. I’ll add more as I get stronger and as needs be.

I do need to loose this excess weight for my knees if nothing else. So every once in a while I’ll post my progress and let you know how I’m doing. Probably weekly for a while then monthly until I hit my goal. I’ll try not to bore you with my weight loss saga. I keep it down to a little notation at the bottom of my blogs for the most part.

Maybe this way with all of you looking on, I’ll have the incentive and get the pounds back off. By the way my goal is to go down to 130 pounds and the reward Mountain Man is offering me is a new corset when I get there. No, It’s not like that. He asked me if I wanted a prize in the end and what I would like. I can have a new corset any time I’d like. I’m just too frugal to waste the money for a new something I don’t intend to be in this time next year.

Thanks in advance for the help. A size 18, Lady Euphoria

(Starting today. 185 lb., 30 min. yoga, 1/ 2 mile walk, 50 steps on stair stepper so far. And I‘m sore.)

On Trying to Keep Up:

I have been furiously making the lace for the handkerchiefs. I have the two purple ones done. Well the lace is made but I haven’t tucked the tails or sewed the lace on yet. And I am starting the pink as soon as I’m done here.

Yes, I did take off some time to do a few other things. Like this morning I made three sets of wooden knitting needles. I get wooden dowels and cut them down to length. I bought some wooden end caps too. I sharpen the one end in the pencil sharpener and then sand it all down with extra fine sandpaper. I use an emery board to sand down the other ends to fit the end caps and glue them on. Three sets of knitting needles for less then a dollar a pair. You can’t go wrong with savings like that.

It has also been hard to get the lace done with all the bandages on my blisters from working in the labyrinth and that still isn’t done yet either. Maybe a flame thrower would get the job done faster. Know where I could get one cheep?

I watched the movie ‘Shall We Dance’ while I was making lace this morning. I so want to learn to tango properly. Mountain Man and I dance in the kitchen every once in a while when the mood strikes. But I do have to say he has three left feet where dancing is concerned. I have no hope of winning a tango competition with him. He does do other things very well so I let this one slide. So much for the saying, ‘Dancers make the best partners in bed.’

Anyway, I hope to finish the pink lace by tomorrow some time. Then after I sew the lace on and press them, off they will go to Lady Pink. And I can get back to making the lace for the collar on the men’s shirt turned Victorian blouse.

Well back to work for me.

On Memories in Boxes:

Today I was cleaning out the closet. I have no attic or basement so the closets are large and full of storage. Over, under, and around my many pieces of clothing are boxes and bags of stuff in storage. Plastic bins and cardboard boxes with the treasures of a lifetime. I only take on this task when I’m feeling mentally strong enough. There is what is left of my son’s life in there. (For those of you who don’t know ‘Shining Son’ died in a car accident some years back when he was twenty five years old.)

The ‘Princess Daughter’ has stuff in those boxes too. Memories of their childhood. A small rock from Shining Son’s first walk outside as a toddler. Princess Daughter’s first black patent leather party shoes. Pictures they drew for me when they were small. It’s not a lot of stuff as stuff like that goes, just precious to me. I saved the stuff to give back to them when they had their own children if that day came. Time will tell if Princess Daughter will settle down. But Shining Son will never have that chance.

In those boxes are poems and notes written to me from Mountain Man when our relationship was younger. Being married almost eighteen years now the poems are not as forthcoming. This is a second marriage for both of us. We have reached a comfortable groove in most things. I’ll keep the notes and poetry.

Boxes of papers. Journals and things once thought important. Instructions cut from a magazine for making some silly craft project. Articles on health or home improvement. All head for the recycling bin now that I have the internet at my fingertips. I need the space more. The journals I put back. They are full of mundane days of living before Shining Son died. Like in ‘Our Town’ the regular days are easier to look back at some how. Memories are the only place I get to visit my son now. Memories and dreams.

Pictures. Boxes of pictures. From a time when they were not as easily gotten in this cell phone ready age. Back then you had to bring along a camera and take a limited amount of pictures. Once the film was used up it was then taken to be developed. Then you waited for a few days to have that done. And once they were finished and back in your hands you strived to put them in book but usually just stuck them in an old shoe box within weeks of looking at them. There marches the high and low lights of my life. Birthdays, fender benders, holidays, injuries and stitches, vacation, storm damage. All reduced to slips of paper in boxes.

Memories of my life. I have fewer of them left in my head as I get older. And chemo brain has ravaged more then I’d like to think about of my memory. Still old memories get pushed out of the way for computer program instructions, shopping lists and doctor appointments. Making these boxes all the more important to me.

The some total of my collective life gone over in one closet cleaning day as I go through the boxes of memories.

On My Wisteria Wishes:

My wisteria is a thing of beauty. A water fall of purple cascading down to the ground. And the heady aroma that fills the yard so strong in the sun it can almost choke off your breath. I love my wisteria maybe because it lasts only for two weeks a year. I never quite get enough.

The flowers I like best are spring flowers. Purple Iris, Violet, Wisteria and Lilac. Not that I don’t like other flowers, because I do. I like clematis and honeysuckle, dragon flower, coneflower, spirea and mock orange. All of which I have in my yard along with others. The daylilies and hustas, wild rose, daffodils in abundance, the flowers on the horthorne tree. Azalea and rhododendron bushes, evening primrose, and more all grace my yard. But I like wisteria the best of all.

I have them planted at the corners of the house. Arbors hold them up. The one is the arbor over the walk way that you go under to get to the house. The other is out side of my bedroom door. It covers a little sitting porch I have there. I have two white wicker chairs in there. I open up the bedroom door and listen to my music as I sit in the shade making lace or knitting.

The wisteria hangs down and bumble bees slowly buzz from flower head to flower head sipping nectar and collecting pollen. A breeze rustles my skirts and cools my face. Fresh homemade lemonade sits in a glass and pitcher with covers on them to keep the bees from feasting there too. It could be a scene from days gone by with the exception of the music. (Delerium, Karma) I take the day to dream under the wisteria.

I dream of a world without hate and malice. Where children frolic unmolested and animals cause no harm to garden or person. Where people find pleasure in any task they take up to do and music is always on the air. And there are flowers like my wisteria enough to fill the warmer days of the year in abundance. Enough for everyone to enjoy.

I dream of a world that doesn’t hold prejudice and misunderstandings. Where bullies and the criminally insane can be helped to turn their lives around. A place without fear. A place of love and wisteria.

On Holiday:

Today is a holiday, as in a day off from work and an excuse to get away from home, or at least do something different at home. We went to the cemetery yesterday and put out the flags there and around the house. The cemetery is a little too crowded for me today.

We chose the stay at home option. I made a picnic meal and we eat it outside under a tree in the yard. Mountain Man didn’t do the barbecue. Not for one turkey burger.

The dogs think that this is one of the oddest things they have seen in a while, this our eating outside. We did eat at a folding table with chairs. I have learned over the years that if the dog are with us the food does not sit on a blanket on the ground. And anything that hit’s the ground is fair game for them.

We had the regulars of potato salad and baked beans. I had a veggie burger and Mountain Man his turkey burger. All the fixin’s for the burgers. There was salad both veggie and fruit. Fruit juice on ice. A nice light meal for the two of us.

The bugs came to feast as we ate. The flags fluttered in the breeze. The dogs wiggled and whined.

Of course this was just a respite. Mountain Man had been working in the garden since sun up and I had been cleaning the house, doing laundry and sewing a new summer skirt with a bustle.

He is now building a stone wall and I’m writing to you while the dishes soak in the sink. Yup, another holiday at the old homestead. And we seem to be working harder then ever. Some things never change.

Maybe I can find some water balloons for a little later?

On Memorial Day. An open letter to the troops:

Today I look beyond my own small world and take in the day that nearly everyone in the USA is celebrating this week end. Memorial Day is a day to honor the fallen dead in defense of our country and what it stands for.

We (my husband Mountain Man and I) just got back home from the cemetery. We were putting a flag and marker on my husband’s father’s grave. Mountain Man’s father was in WW2.

There are more and more of them each day, those souls that have given their lives for a dream of a better world and to give others still in the world an amount of safety.

I myself have never served in the armed forces. My husband did and so have others I have known. It is not an easy task to undertake. And to die for what one believes in goes beyond the call of duty in my estimation.

The world would be a much different place without the peoples of the armed forces keeping things in check. Life is a balancing act to be sure. But these people walk a much thinner line then I do. And I respect them for that.

Hale the conquering hero and may they all come home safe and sound. But remember too the gallant dead. For that is what this day is for. A Day of Memorial to those that have died in service to our country and ourselves. May they forever rest in peace.