appropriate Mass behavior

On Sunday evening Will was supposed to serve his first Novus Ordo Mass. However, he had been asked a few days before if he could compete in the Red Jacket Regatta in Rockland, a small boat sailing race for youth. Tim drove down to pick him up early so he could get to Mass on time, but when he arrived, due to the lack of wind, Will was all the way across the harbor. While the sacristan was understanding of the circumstances, I hope that next week's Mass will go a little more smoothly. For in addition to Will's absence, Mary asked if we could sit in the back pew and that was a huge mistake. 

I won't go into all the details, because that would be gossip just for the sake of being nasty, but the family sitting in front of us made our family, with the smaller children drawing pictures on their bulletins and Julia Ellen drawing in my tiny notebook through Mass looked angelic in comparison. But I'll just say that there were large quantities of toys, wailing, chatting by the grownups, and Playdough was almost ground into the carpet. The woman who was sitting beside them leaned over at the end of Mass and said, "Are these your children?" "Well, it is a few of them (Timmy went with Tim to pick up Will)." "They are so well behaved and so nice looking." At this point there was a little whispering from behind me because the children knew that I would stop at the store on the way home. I waited a moment until the priest exited the church and then explained,"If they get a compliment then they get doughnuts." 

Now, I've always been one of those middle-of-the-road moms when it comes to little children and Mass, I've brought religious coloring books, bags of Cheerios, sippy cups of water, holy cards to organize in a little picture album to keep them occupied and quiet. I've rarely seen any horror shows depicted on the internet of kids bringing McDonald's Happy Meals into the cry room, screaming fits that go on through the entire homily, or Nintendo games played during the Consecration. But as I told Mary after informing her that it was all her fault for begging me to sit in the back, we will be sitting up front in the future. After 14 years of taking unruly children out of church, spending most Sunday mornings in the cry room, training babies to be quiet for the sake of those around them, I refuse to subject myself to someone else's poor parenting during Mass.  
 

learned my lesson

I've been working on an antique looking lap quilt for some time, the piecing went together quickly, but only because I didn't trim the excess fabric after I added the next row. When I started quilting, the straight lines looked great, but the free motion daisy design just kept looking awful, I had little control over the stitch length, the quilt kept refusing to move. I changed the needle, re-threaded the machine, took it in to the dealer to be cleaned and oiled, attempted to put wax paper/Pam spray on the back for more glide... nothing worked. Will and I spent over a week picking every stupid flower out, because by the time I gave up I had tried to quilt 20 flowers. They looked awful. After letting the quilt sit for a week or so, I gave it another go today. This time I quilted little leaves and spirals in the black open spaces and was successful for the most part. 

Then it hit me, my own laziness in not trimming led to all that extra work. The poor machine was quilting through, not 3 layers, but in some blocks, 5-6 layers of fabric. No wonder it was struggling and skipping stitches and refusing to move over the seams. I can't take it apart, but I will never, never sew another seam on a paper pieced block without trimming to 1/4 " again!

author read aloud

On Tuesday morning sailing was cancelled due to a forecast of thunderstorms that didn't materialize until 4:30pm. However, I had found an interesting activity for us in Stockton Springs at the library to make up for the disappointment. Chris Van Dusen, children's author and illustrator of the Mr. Magee books came to give a fabulous presentation and read aloud of 3 of his books, including one of our favorites, The Circus Ship. 

This story is based on the real 1836 sinking of a circus ship, The Royal Tar, off the coast of Vinalhaven, but with a much happier ending. The children had a wonderful time helping point out the hidden animals, Charlie and Timmy finding the trickiest ones, and have looked at the book again and again in the days since.

People who live in big cities always cite their cultural opportunities, but even in the wilds of Maine we have plays, art galleries, library concerts, and famous authors willing to share.

sick, sick, and car sick

This past two weeks have been a little draining. The week before Will went to Boy Scout camp he had  3 days of fever, diarrhea, and a dripping nose. Luckily he recovered enough by Sunday to enjoy a week of camping, canoeing, and orienteering. Julia Ellen came down with the same odd combination of symptoms this Saturday and we decided that Tim would stay home from Mass with the two little ones, there being only room for 4 children in his new car. The van was still at the shop, getting a new transmission installed. After we arrived at the church 30 minutes early, I let Charlie and Maggie go over to the playground while I called Tim on my cell phone.

"The bad news is that Charlie gets car sick in your car."

"Oh my gosh, not my brand new car!"

I couldn't let him suffer too long, "The good news is that Charlie did not get car sick IN your car. We pulled over at Hollywood Casino and he barfed in the bushes."

However, I had to call Tim back a bit later. Within 15 seconds of climbing on the playground equipment he was stung on the cheek by a wasp and started screaming. I piled everyone back in the car, stopped at McDonald's for some ice to put on his face and gave up on anyone in our family attending Mass this week.  

forced time out

Things have been falling apart at our house this past week. My internet connection was down for 3 days and since Will is at Boy Scout camp, I had no idea how to fix my modem problem (thank you to the nice man on the phone from India who kept repeating, "I apologize for your frustration," when they couldn't find my account. "But I have your satellite dish on my roof and we have had service for a year!")  My van has been in the shop since Tuesday afternoon when the transmission suddenly died. It won't be ready until Monday. And most distressing of all is that I was diagnosed with bursitis and arthritis in my sore hip. I've only run a few times since my last race and start physical therapy on Monday. I took off almost 20 years of running, mostly to have babies, and now I feel like I threw away the gift of that time. If I don't get better, I don't see how I can continue, it isn't fun to run with constant pain. 

But after having my short pity party, I realize how truly blessed I am. My connection to the world was resolved with just tightening a loose connection on my modem. My van is fixable and we can afford to make that repair. My hip seems to be improving a bit and, even if I could never run again, I can always take up swimming to stay in shape. My husband loves me, my children are all well (except for Julia Ellen's minor fever), and I have food in the pantry. There are many people who are caring for sick loved ones, millions of people don't have a job, and many more are worried about how to pay the bills. Today there are almost a hundred families in Colorado standing by a hospital bed or mourning the loss of their loved one. The only thing I can give is to offer up my pain for them, for the survivors to be given peace and have the strength to recover physically and emotionally from this massacre and for the souls of those who have been killed.    

stocking up on school supplies

It is the middle of summer, time for trips to the lake, dropping off kids at camp, swimming lessons, certainly not time to think about backpacks and notebooks, but now is the time to act if I don't want to spend a fortune on school supplies. Our local big box office supply store is Staples and they are running some great loss leaders on all the things I need this fall. When I combine that with my teacher discount card and a 15% off back to school card I bought for $10, the floor of my schoolroom is filling up with bags of gear. The big kid's school apparently does not come out with lists until the first day, by the time all the sales are over, but I can guess what items they will need and buy now. I already bought all their uniform needs at the school consignment sale last month, so all I need left are some cool lunchboxes (Maggie doesn't want to borrow her little sister's pink Hello Kitty one) and a year's worth of mechanical pencils.

curling up with a good mystery

I'd like to think that the folks who work in the Bangor Library's children's department think of our family with fondness. After all, we are likely the family with the most consistent attendance as well as sheer volume of books checked out, but more than that, we return our books within the two week checkout window. Wednesday, when we were standing at the counter I was told that one of my selections was actually on hold by someone else, but it was accidentally put on the shelf. He said that I needed to return it within two weeks, but I assured him that I would do so by Friday at the latest. The murder mystery, Death of a Kingfisher, was one by my favorite authors, M.C. Beaton, and sure enough, I had it finished within several hours of returning home that evening. If you like non-gory mysteries with a share of humor then you will like the Hamish MacBeth series that spans over 20 books and goes back at least that many years. Featuring a local copper in rural Scotland, this series is just the thing to curl up with on a rainy afternoon with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies. 

The other new mystery series I enjoy also has a new title out, Aunt Dimity & the Village Witch, by Nancy Atherton. The heroine is an active mother of twin boys living in a village in England, which has an unusually large number of murders and mysteries considering its diminutive size. The author does make a point of promoting the moral equivalency of paganism and homosexuality, but the overall story is well written and just I ignore those bits.

So, these two novels will go back in the book drop bin this morning after dropping off Charlie on his last day of science day camp.He has been having such a grand time building things, making new friends, and taking things apart that he has said, "Thank you Mommy for signing me up for science camp," every afternoon after I have picked him up. Maggie has also been at camp again this week and was even on the TV news a few days ago (look for the pink hat). I wouldn't have known a thing about it, but the librarian mentioned it and pulled it up on her computer so we could watch her dance and sing, practicing for the big show next weekend.

product endorsement

Up here in Maine we have two seasons: snow season and bug season. The first flying critters out to eat you are black flies, which leave bloody welts on the neck and head. They usually last until about Father's Day, when the deer flies and mosquitoes appear. Deer flies are nasty critters who circle the head in an attempt to drive a person insane and then land on the back of the arm for a nasty bite. The only respite from all these bugs is the first frost in early October. While Maine summers are lovely and much enjoyed, there is one thing to be said for the colder months: there aren't any bugs.  

 A few weeks ago I was at the local hardware store and noticed a product near the register specifically to address this problem called Deer Fly Strips. Made by a local, this super sticky strip of what looks like packing tape has pheromones sprayed on it to attract the pests to come a little closer. Once their wings or feet touch the glue, they are stuck. In just a few hours of wearing my hat in the garden and on the front porch, I had collected 7 deer flies on the back of my hat, all frantically buzzing in an attempt to become free. Since all they wanted to do was take a chunk out of my skin, I felt no pity for the creatures. Perhaps I sound a little callous, but St. Francis never lived in Maine and saw his 3 year old's neck covered in welts from "Brother bug". I've gone back to the house to collect my hat to work in the garden and look forward to wearing it for a trail hike planned later this week. It is a little gruesome seeing out baseball hats in a a row with carcasses stuck all over,but it sure does make going outside in Maine during the summer a lot more pleasant.  

reason # 567

Yesterday I stopped by the fish market to pick up a haddock and scallop casserole for supper followed by the grocery store for dessert. My total at Hannaford came to $17.76.

"How appropriate," I said. 
The cashier, a young woman said, "Huh?"
"The total bill, how appropriate that it is 1776." She still looked at me like I had 2 heads. 
"You know, the Declaration of Independence, the 4th of July," I explained.
"Oh, I never knew the year or anything," was her reply. 
And then it just slipped out, "You went to public school, didn't you?"
"Yeah, Hampden Academy."
"And that is why I homeschool my kids," I replied before I gathered up my bags and walked out. 

Too harsh, I'm sure. But I'll move hell and high water before I send my kids to a school where graduates don't know the date of the birthday of our nation.  
 

Walter Hunt 3K

Up here in Maine, the 4th of July means parades, picnics, trips to the lake, fireworks in the backyard (now that they are legal, thank you Gov. LePage) or in town, and the annual race between Brewer and Bangor just before the parade. I took Mary, Maggie, and Charlie to compete and with my hip still a little sore (I figured out that it was from changing chairs in front of my sewing machine making my body do some weird contortion to step on the foot pedal, a true quilting injury) I wasn't expecting much performance-wise. I ran the first mile in 5:58, finishing in 12:02, 17 seconds faster than last year, but another middle-age lady passed me in the last 10 seconds, so I didn't win my age bracket. The kids didn't do so hot, Charlie even got sick during the last portion of the race. We did get to see the entire parade while walking back to the car. The rest of the afternoon will be spent resting followed by corn and watermelon for dinner and at dusk fireworks in the front yard. 

Bangor Daily News article about race, my finish is at 2:24 on the video. 

gardening fail

To say that I'm disappointed by Fedco seeds is an understatement. I thought I was being efficient by purchasing all my garden plants from the same place, but while I was happy with the quality of their trees, raspberries, potatoes, onions, and asparagus I bought this spring, about half the seeds I bought were defective. Only a few of the flower seeds I started in little pots sprouted and none of their broccoli, sunflower, or corn came up, even after planting new seed after it was evident the first sowing didn't sprout. Many of the pumpkin seeds didn't sprout either and it being the beginning of July, it is too late to buy seed from another source and start again. 

Luckily we do have plenty of carrots, broccoli (Burpee), onions, potatoes, tomatoes, green beans, cucumbers, and lettuce. Instead of being able to eat sweet corn 10 minutes after picking and being able to put bags and bags of pureed pumpkin in my freezer, I'll have to buy both vegetables from the farmer's market. Next winter I will buy some more raspberry plants and fruit trees from Fedco, I'll go back to buying my seed from Johnny's Select Seeds, a Maine company with a sterling reputation.  

you think it is hot?

Try running 10 miles in it. 

I swear, you would think that it never got above 50 degrees in Maine in the summer by listening to people's conversations today. The line in front of Gifford's ice cream shop (some great ice cream, made right here in Skowhegan, Maine) had at least 10 people standing in line all day. 

But little old me, with a hurt hip all week, rose at 5am to drive to Bucksport to run my 2nd Tour de Lac, the 3rd oldest road race in the state. I prepared for the race by overdosing on Motrin and rubbing 5 layers of Icy-Hot on said hip. Luckily there were 5 water stops along the course since I took one gulp at each and dumped the rest right on my head. I almost quit at mile 3, but found my groove and then started slowing down around mile 6, but the last 2 miles I was dragging. Final time: 1:19:31, a 7:58/mile pace. I have never been so glad to finish a race, but the best part was that the outdoor pool opened up early just for us and we could swim in our race clothes (I brought a change of clothes, but no bathing suit) before the awards were announced. The cool water just sucked every degree of heat right out of my muscles, it was just lovely. I won a jar of homemade blackberry jelly for winning my age bracket. 

Next race is the pre-4th of July parade race on Wednesday in Bangor. The 2 mile course has thousands of spectators lining the route, but with no pool to plunge into afterwards, it could be a very sweaty walk back to the car. If Giffords is open on the 4th, I will take the kids there for ice cream afterwards, no matter how long the line.      

quilting up a storm

 After crying this morning in the car after hearing the Supreme Court ruling and listening to Rush Limbaugh's analysis, I decided to take a break and think about something else today. After all, it is my youngest son's birthday today and Mary and I had a blue cake to bake. 

I also wanted to progress onto the next portion of my latest quilting project, Shiloh, a pattern found in Scrap Quilts by Julie Larsen. Here is a photo taken from the book: 

Her very easy method of making pineapple blocks with squares sewn diagonally in the corners instead of triangles made the top go together very quickly. Here is my top finished, the black flannel backing is currently making its way through the dryer. I bought 7 yards of backing, almost double the yardage stated in the directions because flannel shrinks so much. It does make for a much warmer quilt, something that I'm going to appreciate come December. I wish I had made the dark triangles connecting the black squares darker for more contrast, but I guess I can always make another. I haven't decided exactly how to quilt it, but after seeing the dramatic results in heavily free-motion quilting, I think I'm now a convert to the technique.  Speaking of my next project, since I have free time each morning to sew before the children awake, if any sister-in-laws would like a quilt under their tree this year, they better speak up now. (hint, hint)    

 

our pink princess

Julia Ellen's favorite color is pink. She just looooves anything pink, from dresses to a photo of a pink Jeep she spotted in a book. Her favorite footwear right now are pink Hello Kitty rubber boots with white polka dots, which are practical since they keep her feet dry and the slugs away from her feet during the very wet Maine spring and summer we have been having. But she hit the pinnacle of her fervor when we went to Target to pick out some new bathing suits and found a bright pink Hello Kitty suit with a little ruffle round the bottom. She was so proud of her new suit that she wore it playing outside for 2 days before we had a chance to go to the pool. Yesterday she ran with it inside to the front desk and threw it up on the counter in front of Jordan, her favorite staff member whom she flirts with mercilessly, so he could admire it. 

 Sometimes she walks around saying, "I want a pink Jeep, I want a pink car, I want a pink bike." Usually we just go along, but I just had to laugh out loud when we were at the park the other evening and she found a sit on toy, the kind that scoops dirt with hand levers. When it was time to leave she was overly tired and sobbing, before wailing, "I want one. I want a pink steam shovel." 

are homeschooled kids the only ones who still read?

I was listening to Howie Carr the other day, the Boston talk radio host, discuss how hard it is this summer for teens to find summer jobs. One comment he made really stuck with me, "It would be different if these kids were otherwise reading books, but they don't anymore. My girls don't read except for school." I don't know if this is true or not, perhaps it is like saying "All teens are bad drivers," but perhaps it is closer to the truth than it was 20 years ago. 

My children love to go to the library, if I don't let them pick out a stack to take home at least once a week then they mope and complain and I constantly see other homeschool families there (it is pretty obvious when they have kids over the age of 6 with them during the day). Now that the big kids are older I let them have more of a say over what they check out, but I keep a strict eye on the younger ones. Maggie just yesterday pouted when I took off several Goosebumps books and some inner city teen junk novel that was on her pile at the counter. 

It is interesting to see what sorts of things they come up with, occasionally it really lets me see a bit deeper into their psyche. I noticed Mary's bag of books on her bed and snuck a peek inside. It is obvious that she is a bit nervous about entering Catholic school this fall. Her choices include: Exploring Math with books kids love, Writing With Style, Reading Roundups, Spelling K-8, Word Smart, Math Puzzles and Brainteasers Grades 6-8, and Improve Your Spelling and Vocabulary. Her academic weaknesses are spelling and writing, after numerous years of struggle and crying she is just finishing up the 4th grade spelling book and I have had to help her extensively with her book reports every quarter since 2nd grade. She loves to read and she does pretty well in math if she carefully thinks through the problems, so I don't see why she thinks she needs to further study these subjects over the summer. Seeing these books on Mary's bed is a wonderful testament to homeschooling, in that she can see for herself weaknesses in her academic skills and is attempting to overcome them on her own.

feminist war on women

 "I have to admit that when I meet a woman who I know is a graduate of, say, Princeton -- one who has read The Second Sex and therefore ought to know better -- but is still a full-time wife, I feel betrayed. I'm not much of a moralist -- I have absolutely no right to be -- but in the interest of doing what's right both for me personally and for women generally, I have been strict with myself about earning my keep. For the longest time I would not date anyone who would now be called a one-percenter because money and power are such a potent combination, and if I am going to be bossed around, I don't want that to be the reason. When it's come up, I have chosen not to get married. Over and over again, I have opted for my integrity and independence over what was easy or obvious. And I am happy. I don't want everyone to live like me, but I do expect educated and able-bodied women to be holding their own in the world of work." Elizabeth Wurtzel

 This screed from The Atlantic magazine has been discussed much in the blogosphere lately, but as I have been on a Jane Austen spin-off kick lately, it struck me how perfectly perceptive the early 19th century English author was in portraying specific personalities. Ms. Wurtzel wants to define feminists as women who work and are financially self sufficient, not allowing them the choice to stay at home. She is the perfect Miss Bingley, jealous of Elizabeth Bennet's beauty and attention from Mr. Darcy, a 1%er if there ever was one. Since she has no chance of attracting the affections of such a man, Ms. Wurtzel and Miss Bingley both do all they can to disparage those they feel have stolen their rightful place of consequence in the world.   

"All young ladies are accomplished. They sing, they draw, they dance, speak French and German, cover screens and I know not what." (Mr.Bingley)
"But not half a dozen would satisfy my notion of an accomplished woman." (Mr. Darcy)
"Oh, certainly. No woman can be really esteemed accomplished who does not also possess a certain something in her air, in her manner of walking, in the tone of her voice, her address and expressions." (Miss Bingley) (I apologize for a non faithful quote, my copy of P&P seems to be at the other house)

 The best commenter after the article, of which I pasted a portion: 

I think what strikes me as the most ridiculous part of this author's position is that a female is telling other females that they are ruining the feminist movement by choosing to be full time mothers despite being educated and able-bodied. It used to be that men condescended to women who weren't in the business world, now this female author is doing the same thing. Once upon a time, women who worked brought shame to their gender. Now women who don't work bring shame to their gender? Who, again, is waging a war on women? Seems like this author is - more than anyone I've heard from in years. lawdawg97

 The other point that struck me was that if Ms. Wurtzel had her way and all educated women worked and were more like her, then there would be so many hate-filled writers out there that she would likely not be able to get her work published and be out of a job. I feel sorry for Ms. Wurtzel. She doesn't sound like a happy person who is needed and loved and it comes out in her air, in the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.  

fly away little birdies

A week or two ago the little boys pointed out a bird's nest on our farm. A barn swallow mama took advantage of the fact that one of the very last things to finish on our house is the porch ceiling and flew under the eaves to raise her young in our garage. 

We have been watching the baby's growth via binoculars, which is interesting, but Tim was grossed out by the sheer volume of bird poop 5 birds make on our garage floor. He scrubbed it out with the hose, but after only 24 hours the floor was a mess again. 

The only solutions were to take down the nest, killing the babies, or just wait it out until they learn to fly and leave the nest. Since he is such a softy the birds stayed and will likely be gone before the ceiling is installed in about 2 weeks, blocking their egress. 

The other critter problem didn't end well. When I went over to the garage apartment last week to take some boxes upstairs I found water dripping from the second floor. Turns out after 2 trips from the plumber and 1 from the builder than we had mice living between the floors during the winter and they had eaten a hole in the hot water line. The pipes and the drywall will be replaced soon, but something permanent will have to be done about invading critters. It is almost humorous to be discussing how best to discourage/kill the mice in our buildings at the same time we tempt Butter and Cream, Mary's pet mice, with special treats for their enjoyment. 

Looking at aerial photos from the early 1900's and today it is worth noting that 100 years ago 85% of our area was cleared for farms and today only 15% is still open space.  Between our little animal control issues and trying to keep the edges of the fields free of tree seedlings, I understand the old farmers who say that living in the country is a battle to keep what we have created from turning back to its natural state.  

overbooked?

This past week Tim was on vacation up at the farm, doing what he loves best, mowing grass and moving stuff around with his big John Deere tractor. He and Will left yesterday to drop Will off at his Boy Scout ordeal weekend. The yard looks pristine with everything trimmed, the wood stacked just so all ready for winter, and the trampoline set up after a year hiatus. When my husband is here things tend to run with a military precision, but once his truck is out of sight, meals are a little more haphazard, the dishwasher doesn't get run until it is full, and the laundry doesn't get folded right away. After all, I'm running the household ship by myself and it is my summer vacation.

We didn't have many things on our agenda this past week, but that is going to change next week and the following week as our summer activities really crank into gear. Somehow I have signed up all the children for swimming lessons, 4 for piano lessons, 3 for riding lessons, 3 are going away to camp, Maggie is going to theater day camp for 3 weeks, and Charlie is going to day science camp for a week. And I don't even know if sailing is going to happen this year. I guess this is practice for this fall when I will have to get everyone out of bed and drive the big kids to school every day, homeschool the boys, keep the house tidy, organize every one's activities and appointments, and pick them up in the afternoon before making dinner and supervising homework and baths. I sure do hope that the next few months won't be all chauffeuring and life guarding duty, after all, it is my summer vacation too. 

swift feet

Between the 5 members of our family who ran in the Garelick Milk Run 1 mile we cleaned up with two gift certificates totaling $40 and a cooler full of dairy products. I wanted to beat last year's time and did so by 15 seconds for a time of 6:04. Charlie came in 2nd in the 12 and under age bracket with a time of 7:26( 10 seconds faster than last year), Maggie was the next family member with a time of 7:54 and Timmy ran his first mile race (in Crocs no less) with an impressive time for a 5 year old of 8:04. Mary ran with her friend and didn't really attempt a decent time, finishing in 9:15.

I've been going to the track workouts on Wednesday evenings, Charlie and Maggie have participated and been invited to return, perhaps that was what gave us all an extra boost on Saturday. Next race is the Tour de Lac, a 10 miler in Bucksport in 2 weeks. I'm hoping to repeat last year's performance with 1:15, but the weather has to cooperate, a lovely cool 55F morning would be perfect.

a few stones strewn in my path

Since many of my vegetable seeds are in the ground, the fruit trees thriving, and the onions growing taller, I was at a loss of something to do outside. Apparently keeping the place from looking like we are hosting a yard sale with all the bikes, toys, and other assorted debris that appears each and every day isn't enough. I can't mow the grass because something broke on the riding mower and it is out of commission until our neighbor fixes it. So, with nothing better to do, I tackled my ongoing project to make the farm look like a home and no longer a construction site. Officially it still is since the porch has no classic pale blue ceiling or light fixtures yet, but we are closing in on the completion of the house. Last fall I dumped several truckloads of wood chips on the area in front of the front porch to kill the grass where I eventually wanted a flower bed. Since the porch is fairly low and doesn't have a railing, the plants there must be short so as to not impede the view. 

Last Saturday I hit a local nursery, buying some shade loving perennials, wildflowers such as white bleeding heart, columbine, and bloodroot, and a small Amur maple tree. Since then, between massive rainstorms, I have been digging out bucket after bucket of rocks and hauling them to the treeline. I have felt much in common this week with the early settlers of our town who cleared the woods and hauled so many rocks that they created stone walls at the edge of all our fields. 

Yesterday I finished digging and hopefully today after a trip to get some blue hydrangeas I will get the last plants put in the ground. I already have some future planting ideas, but this will do for now until I find myself again with "nothing to do."