Thursday Thirteen

Here are some possible new jobs for me, should I decide to go back into the work force and give up on freelance writing as a career.

1. Private investigator. In Virginia, you must be licensed. Apparently this requires 60 hours of training. The Department of Criminal Justice oversees this. Here's an article about it from ehow.com. I like the idea of being a fat Stephanie Plum or Kinsey Millhone. I don't want to cut up bodies like Kay Scarpetta, though.

2. Energy auditor. Since green is the next big thing, I thought I'd look into being somebody who goes in your house and says "hey, use weatherstripping and change out your light bulbs" and you give me $100 for that advice. There are several sites on the Internet that advertise certification for this, and they range in price from $195 to $8,999. According to this site, you need to have a B.A. in engineering and certification from a proper authority. Yikes.

3. Pumpkin grower and seller. Pumpkins are big things in the fall, what with Halloween and pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. I've got some acreage. This seems promising if I can convince my husband to plow up some new ground. Maybe I could grow the world's largest pumpkin. Or at least the county's. Nothing like sweat equity. They need to be planted soon, though. Must start doing the convincing if this is to be a reality.

4. You want fries with that? I was looking at blueridgehelpwanted.com and most of the ads were for service people at fast food industries. I noted a lot of ads for Arby's. They sell roast beef as well as fries. I admire folks who work behind the counter at these places because frankly I don't think I can do it.

5. Join the Army. The other abundant advertising on some of the job sites are for the Armed Forces. Uncle Sam wants ME to sign up. I am afraid of guns plus I am too old, so I don't think so. I'm also fat and out of shape. Definitely not army material.

6. The U.S. Census Bureau. Right now in my area apparently they're hiring for field survey workers. That is not the 2010 census, the site says. I guess it's prep work for that. Anyway, according to an article in The Roanoke Times the other day, people get bitten by dogs and threatened with shotguns whilst performing this work. Sounds very exciting, doesn't it?

7. Web master. I think this has promise. I need to learn HTML and figure out design and shoot, there you go. Just have to put my mind to it, right? Well, no. You might want to have a computer science degree. I have a degree in English. Hmm. Not much going for me there, is it.

8. Distributor. Seems like if I can find a product people want and get the distributorship for it, then I could become the person around here who sells it. I guess this could be like Avon or Longaberger baskets, too. I haven't the faintest idea how to go about this but if you type in "how to be a distributor" lots of stuff comes up so I guess I'd better go read it.

9. Nonprofits. I have a strong interest in this, but haven't seen many job openings. I think working for a grant foundation or historical preservation agency would interest me. No one is hiring right now but maybe later, when that stimulus money starts to work.

10. Government. I would love to work for my county government, but they have a hiring freeze on until the 2010-2011 budget. Unless someone leaves and they replace them I have no way of getting on there. Most of the neighboring localities have the same hiring freeze thing going on. Maybe when the stimulus money actually starts to work.

11. Healthcare. The help-wanted ads offer many choices for nurses, nursing assistants, and bed pan people. Alas, I am not someone for whom health care has ever held much call. I faint at the sight of blood and vomit when someone else does. Maybe something in the administration offices?

12. Genealogist. I would love to do this for people. I love the research and I know my way around the courthouse. I already have most of the published history books and know how to find the ones I don't have. I have done this for one or two people but I haven't yet figured out how to leverage this into some kind of steady career. Not only that, our county is loaded with history and with other people with a similar interest who are already doing this. We're the Seedbed of the Republic, after all. So do I put up a sign, business cards in the courthouse? Hmm.

13. ???? . I'm not going to list a 13th idea, because I'm interested in seeing what other folks might suggest. So what else is out there for an English major with an introverted personality? Any really off-the-wall, quirky ideas?

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is my 98th one.

Books: Close Kin

Close Kin
By Clare B. Dunkle
Copyright 2004
216 pages

This is a young adult book, the second in the Hollow Kingdom Trilogy. My review of the first book is here.

Emily is the Queen's sister, and it is time for her to wed. Her suitor Seylin, a young elf-goblin, makes his intentions known but she doesn't quite understand that he is asking for her hand in marriage.

Seylin, who is more elf than goblin, decides to leave in search of elves. The goblins think the elves died out a long time ago, thanks to goblin raids, etc. Goblins like elf brides, though.

Emily trots after him, hoping to find him, once she realizes her error.

It sounds rather convoluted and I suppose it is in a short review but this is rather charming. The goblins are mostly ugly and by their moral code they are not bad (though by our moral code they might well be, what with stealing elf and humans to be their brides in their cave home, never to see the light of day again).

I would not recommend starting with this book; the first book seems essential to understanding this world. It had been six months since I read the first book and I had difficulty recalling what was going on in the first several pages of Close Kin. I also would not recommend this for children under 10; there are one or two themes that seem too adult for younger ages.

Overall, a great young adult book and a nice fantasy for older readers.

3 stars

The Graduate (no, not the movie)

Thursday night the family gathered at Ashley Plantation for an evening of celebration.

Our nephew, Emory was headed for college!

His parents and two other sets of parents had rented a room and they threw a party for their sons. The boys had known each other I think since kindergarten. They are very close.

After a teary prayer, we all wolfed out buffet style. I had BBQ.

One of the parents showed a video of the three boys, following them from babyhood to adult hood. Many "awwww" moments, as you can imagine.

Friday night, LBHS had its graduation ceremonies at the Roanoke Civic Center in the coliseum.

My husband was on duty but managed some personal time so he could attend. I had to meet him there.

Parking at the Civic Center is awful. I thought I was early but the traffic and parking was so bad that I was almost late.

Anyway, we found seats with the rest of the family and waited for the graduates to appear.



I snapped the first shots of Emory as he walked out onto the coliseum floor.

The event lasted just over an hour; I had thought it would take longer to graduate 260 kids but apparently not.

Here is Emory receiving his diploma:



Unfortunately because of the space and the lighting, etc., etc., and the fact that I apparently could not take pictures properly that night, my shots of the ceremony are not good. Most of them were so blurred they were unusable. I was using the Nikon D-40 but perhaps should have taken the Canon.

I should stop here and not continue, but I have to say that this was the rowdiest, most undignified graduation ceremony I have ever attended. Let me tell you, as a reporter, I have attended many, many graduation ceremonies and none matched this one.

The administration said nothing about making a lot of noise or holding applause, and so, of course, there was a LOT of noise.

On either side of us people had air horns, which they blasted with great regularity. While many parents were there dressed in their Sunday best, there were other people there in blue jeans. Folks besides us hooted, clapped, yelled and just generally conducted themselves as if they were at a lady mud wrestling match.

At times it was so loud you couldn't even hear the names announced. That was another thing. They didn't give full names. It was "Herb Smith" not Herbert Walter Smith or whatever. And the programs they handed out were done on gray paper with red ink. They are not at all legible to my eyes, and I know that older folks just looked at them and grimaced.

Decorum was sadly lacking. My husband became more and more irritated as the event went on. Afterwards he fumed about the lack of respect showed to the graduates as well as to the older folks attending the ceremony.

At any event, the boy is now a man and he is heading off to University of South Carolina this fall. He will be a trauma surgeon. I am very very proud of him and I love this boy so much it makes my chest hurt. I doubt he knows that but maybe someday he will think back on his old aunt and remember her with fondness.

I know I will always think of him with love.

Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed

Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed
By Philip Hallie
Copyright 1979
303 pages

This nonfiction book examines how it was that during World War II, a small Protestant village in France called Le Chambon defied authorities and worked diligently and openly, in full view of the Vichy government, to save thousands of Jewish children and adults from their doom.

This is a study of ethics couched in a real-life event. The author studies the lives of the main players, particularly Pastor Andre Trocme and his wife and followers, for they were mostly responsible for the good deeds performed during that terrible time.

I could not help but admire the courage of these townsfolks as they followed what they perceived as their calling from God - to love all, regardless, and to save lives, regardless. These were true pacifists, not stoic "I'm against war" pacifists who then move on to something else but truly children of Jesus who followed the New Testament as it they interpreted it. That meant no bloodshed, but instead turning the other cheek and loving and living a moral and ethical life in all aspects.

The text was difficult at times and the author sometimes bogged down in details. As a reader I often felt I was following along with the author as he attempted to understand what drove these people to act as few others did.

Thursday Thirteen: Graduation

The nephew, who graduates from Lord Botetourt High School Friday night. He is going to college to learn to be a trauma surgeon.


1. Dear Graduate, your future is NOW.

2. Move forward and grab life by the tonsils. Since you want to be a trauma surgeon, you should be able to do that! Do not hide behind yesterday's A in history or last week's touchdown in football. Those glories are behind you. Remember them fondly but strive for new grades and new scores.

3. Your education has given you a great foundation, even if you did despise a few of your teachers. Reading, writing and arithmetic really are the building blocks of the world.

4. Your family loves you and will stand behind you always. Your manners are terrific, your smile contagious, and an arm around your uncle makes everyone's chest swell with pride at your thoughtfulness.

5. When you stumble, and you will, stand up, dust off your britches, and get back in there. There's no harm in stepping back to regroup so long as you do move forward.

6. Money can solve a lot of problems, but if in the end all you have are dollar bills, you really don't have much. Take time to cultivate relationships with your friends and family. A dollar bill will never wipe fevered sweat from your brow; someone who loves you always will.

7. Own a dog. Everyone needs a little unconditional love. They also are a great responsibility and a humble reminder of the simple things.

8. Thank your parents for all they have done. They raised you to speak well and to be polite and because of this you will move easily in all arenas of the world.

9. Find your spirituality wherever you need to. whether you follow an established religion or dance naked to your version of a higher power, please remember that the universe is greater than you and there are forces beyond measure working in the world.

10. Read the newspaper. Current events do affect you, whether you realize it or not. Politics play a larger role in everyone's lives than they admit or know. From the taxes you pay to the laws you must obey, the events of the day shape and mold you. Don't ignore them.

11. Have fun. Life is not all work. Make time for reading, watching TV and playing. Schedule it in if you have to.

12. Travel. Nothing broadens the mind and opens eyes like visiting another culture and seeing how other people live. Remember that you have been sheltered in the bosom of your family for 18 years; you have seen little of the hardships and heartaches that most of the world experience. Seeing new vistas and speaking to different people will open your heart in ways that words and pictures cannot.

13. Exercise and take care of your body. You'll need your stamina and your physical abilities for a long time to come, so don't let them go slack. Eat right, even when you're so busy it seems you have no time for dinner. You're the only one who can take care of you so start doing it right now.

Lastly, remember that your aunt and uncle love you with all their hearts. Call us if you need anything. We're always here.

Aunt Anita



Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is my 98th one.

For Rent

Dreaming of the simple life? Rent this 3 bedroom, two-bath farm house on two acres and make it a reality!

Great room, kitchen, loft, ceramic tile
and laminated hard wood flooring, washer/dryer hookup.

We remodeled the interior in 2007.

Room for garden. Quiet country road. Pastureland, wooded front, no neighbors in view.

No smoking, no inside pets, outside pets cost extra. $800/mo +utilities, $800 deposit, ref., credit check req. Available July 5.

Email me at afirebaugh@gmail.com if interested.

Another Bar Bites the Dust

So yesterday afternoon I stepped outside and noticed a disturbance near my roses.

I found another bar of Irish Spring soap opened.

This bar did not get squashed beneath the lawn mower so I was able to clearly see teeth marks. Whatever is eating this soap ate almost a qarter of the bar and nibbled on it at least twice.

I simply cannot imagine what critter is eating this soap.

There are five bars of soap left unopened so far. Will they also be opened and eaten, I wonder?

Waiting on the Hoveround

Today is my birthday. (That's me on another birthday, a very long time ago.)

Here I am, nicely middle-aged, still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

I am now 10 years younger than my mother was when she died.

Most likely I am more than halfway done. I seriously doubt I live to be 92 although I do have some longitivy in the family that makes this a possibility.

What would I like to do with the rest of my life? This seems a good day to try to answer this question.

1. Write a novel, sell it. Follow up with another, another, another.

2. Make my husband very happy.

3. Add on a sunroom.

4. Finish my masters degree at Hollins University.

5. Take a four week vacation to travel across the United States, from Virginia to California.

6. Attend the weddings of various nephews and my niece.

7. Become a great-great-aunt, several times over.

8. Research my family tree and turn it into a big book.

9. Join the Daughters of the American Revolution (I'm eligible, I just haven't ever figured out the paperwork).

10. Make a difference in somebody's life.

Meet Fred. Or Fredricka. Whatever.

Hey there!

I'm Fred. I live under Anita's shed.



She doesn't know what to make of me as I wander around her backyard. She thinks that the fences around the garden and the grapevines will stop me from eating her goodies, but I know better! One good whiff of a tomato and I'm in there, baby!

When I see her pop out the door with her camera, I scramble like a kid with a bee after her. Run run run! I gotta get outta there.

But I do stop to pose before I scurry down the hole.

They Eat Soap, Too!

A while back, I posted photos of a mother deer and her fawn and noted that I thought she'd been eating my roses.

Lenora over at A Journal of Days left me a comment suggesting that Irish Spring Soap would run the critters away. She said to just leave it out in its box.

I hustled to the Dollar General in Fincastle and purchased a pack of said soap. I placed it around my flowers as instructed.

Not long ago I noticed that one of the boxes was opened and the soap was missing. My husband was outside raking the grass.

"What do you suppose got in the soap?" I asked, curious.

"A deer. The soap is over there," he said, pointing to a spot about 25 feet away. "I ran over it with the mower."

I retrieved the soap, noting that something had taken a nibble out of part of it.

Somewhere there is a fresh and clean deer with the invigorating scent of Irish Spring on her breath.

For the Birds

Gully Washer

1. Yesterday afternoon around 4 p.m. or so, the thunder rolled, the lightning flash, the sky dumped hail and rain, and the wind howled around the house so hard and fast that trees were nearly bent double.


2. It rained in sheets. I braved the lightning and opened the back door to take shots of the rain going sideways.

3.

4. The power and might of a storm is difficult to catch on camera. Unless you can get the jag of a lightning bolt, it is hard to do justice to the ferocity of Mother Nature.


5.

6. The water ran off my hill and down my driveway, sending most of the gravel off the drive. The pasture beside me flooded and became a small river.

7. When it was over, the sun burst forth. So I went I outside to check damage.

8.

9. My neighbor's walnut tree did not survive. I don't know if it blew over or if lightning struck it.

10.

11. This tree was behind my shed, not 100 feet from my house. It is now gone, nothing left but a 12-feet tall stump. I think lightning hit this tree but wouldn't swear to it.

12. The birds sang after the rain, though, like a rainbow of sound.

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is my 97th one.

The Escapee

Generally the cows stay where they are supposed to, inside the fence. They are not inclined to wander and have no need to, anyway. They have lots of water and grass, hay in the winter, and occasionally we feed them bread or donuts. What a life!

Occasionally, though, a young one will decide he wants the greener grass on the other side of the fence.

This morning I glanced out the front window just as a young steer weighing about 350 pounds moved past. He was following the fence in an effort to find his way back to his mother.

Our house sits in a U-shaped lot that has a fence running down both sides of the driveway, sort of like this: c=== . Once an animal gets in that pipeline of driveway, the choice is through the fence, into the road, or in the yard.

I don't care if a calf is in the yard but I do care if they get in the road. For one thing, I could get charged with a misdemeanor for letting the animal stray. For another, a car could hit it.

I raced out the front door and shouted "whooo calf!" at the little steer. He stopped, looked around, and then started toward me.

For a brief moment I thought I might be able to call him over to the other side of the house where the gate is located. But the steer had that look about him, the stance and the eyeballs that said, "One wrong move and I am outta here!"

Apparently I made that move, for he bolted, heading down the fence line toward the driveway and its pipeline to the road.

I ran back into the house and into the garage. I climbed in my car and hit the garage opener.

In the time it took me to do that, the calf was halfway to the road (and we have a very long driveway).

Of course if I moved forward slowly I would push the calf on toward the road myself, which I did not want to do. He was headed that way without my help anyway.

I called my husband on the cell phone, because of course any time a calf gets out and I need help there is absolutely no one around. He was at work and his parents were out of town for the day. "Get me some help!" I told him.

It is difficult to round up a calf by yourself. You have better luck with a whole herd, really. But one scared little calf that just wants Mama can be a handful. He said he'd make some calls.

I sat watching the calf as it moved toward the road. It was getting closer. I had to do something; I couldn't let the thing into the street.

I hit the gas and sped past the little bugger when it moved to the higher side of the driveway against the fence. Then I hit the brakes and turned the wheel so that the car would stop practically sideways.

That way the car would act as a gate while I ran my little escapee back up the way he came.

This I did, shouting, waving my arms, screeching and huffing and puffing (because it was all up hill) the entire time.

Finally he seemed far enough away that I thought I could get the car turned around and chase him the rest of the way up with the vehicle. No such luck. He came barrelling back down the driveway and I turned around and did the whole scenario again.

I thought briefly about standing in the road and asking one of the drivers of the cars whizzing by if they'd give me a hand. Ten years ago I might have done that but not in this day and age. I was afraid I'd get shot or run over.

Finally the calf headed back toward the house, and I turned the car around. As I followed him back up the driveway, beeping my horn at him if he stopped or seemed to want to turn around, I noticed a vehicle coming up behind me.

Our neighbor, who lives about a half block from my driveway (or would if we actually had blocks, which we don't), had heard my shouts and come to investigate. Bless his heart! Bob is a retired police officer who helps one of our neighbors on her farm all the time.

Once the calf was safely in the yard again, I stopped and went back to talk to Bob. He said he would run the calf back around the fence, so I raced through the yard to open the gate.

The calf nearly beat me there, but finally I let the gate swing open and my miscreant waltzed through and headed straight for his mother.

I was sweating. The front of my sneakers were soaked from the wet grass. The bottoms of my jeans were wet, too. I wasn't really dressed for company!

I thanked Bob profusely for his help and we chatted briefly before I went inside to call my husband and tell him the calf was back where he belonged.

And that is why my morning at my computer, which I had expected to start at 9 a.m., isn't starting until nearly noon.

Tuesday Morning

A little after 8 o'clock, I stepped outside to work in my garden.

The sickly sweet smell of a blooming paradise tree greeted my nose as I ventured into the warm morning. Birds sang gaily from their perches and a rabbit, startled by my appearance, vanished around the side of the house.

In the garden, hoe in hand, I whacked at weeds. The hum of machinery made a pleasant background noise. My husband was baling hay; the farms around us were cutting, raking, baling. Hard work all around.

The pleasant morning was broken by a crash. I looked up and leaned on my hoe and closed my eyes.

The timber man has returned. Not on our property, but right next door. The crash was one of the majesties of the forest, falling to her death.

The screech of a chainsaw crashed like a banshee through the morning sounds. My spine shivered.

I wondered briefly if by some miracle the neighbors might be using selective timbering, a type of sustainable forestry that leaves the stronger trees and keeps the forest relatively intact.

Knowing who the neighbors are, I seriously doubt it. These are folks who told me once that they moved down here to make money, to take advantage of these poor southern folks who are land rich and stupid enough to love the land more than the almighty dollar.

So I can't imagine that they are timbering for anything but profit, and that means a clear cut.

I watched a large woodpecker wing her way by me, flying hard and fast, and I wondered if she was fleeing the noise and racket behind her. Maybe she was leaving a nest behind, with little chicks chirping in anguish.

I thought of the deer and the little fawn I photographed the other day, and the bear and turkey that wander through frequently. They all call the forest home, and it will be lost to them.

The United States will fall and be forgotten by God, I think, not because we allow homosexuals to marry or women to have babies or stem cells to be turned into medicine, but because we worship money. We value nothing, not even ourselves, more than the dollar bill.

Jesus did not get tough on the money lenders for nothing, and yet this nation does nothing but worship cash. So it will be no surprise to me when God turns her back on this country and takes her graces elsewhere.

I love the land around me. People do not realize that these forests are not that old. No virgin timber here - prior to the U.S. government's purchase of property that is now National Forest, that land was brutalized and raped for everything she had. The land was scarred and barren of trees. Deep pits of iron mines gouged out the earth.

The land has been allowed to return to her natural state, scars showing. I've been to places in the woods where foundations still exist, where you can see the quarries and pits. Nature finds her way back, and I find comfort in that, even if it what I see falling around me will not recover in my lifetime, or maybe even the next.

Everywhere I turn I see evidence of greed. In the news, in the way our tax dollars are divvied up, or not, in the way the credit card companies charge their mountains of interest. I am not immune, I am human like the rest, and to be human is to be greedy, selfish, self-serving. To be human is to be unable to relate to someone just like you, simply because you do not know them.

To be human is to be alone and to do it all for self. Who cares about the greater good?

Will we ever find a better way?

15 Books

(I swiped this meme from Facebook.)

Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.

1984 by George Orwell

Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank

The Women's Room, by Marilyn French

Anne of Green Gables, by L. M. Montgomery

Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte

Bambi, by Felix Salten

The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkein

A Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood

Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman (okay, so that's a poem. It's a long poem.)

Satan Says, by Sharon Olds

Rabbit Run, by John Updike

Green Mansions, by William Henry Hudson

The Great Valley, by Mary Johnston

MacBeth, by William Shakespeare

Island of the Blue Dolphins, by Scott O'Dell

Surprise!

My husband turns 50 on June 2, which is Tuesday.

He is working at the firehouse this cycle, which means he is on a 24-hour shift on Saturday, Monday and Wednesday.

He did not want a family and friend party. He asked for nothing special.

I don't think he is very happy about turning 50. The other day he went to Golden Corral while he was on duty and he received a senior citizen's discount. This disturbed him greatly. He even brought me home the receipt to show me!

And when he received his invitation to join AARP I thought I saw little flames come out of his ears.

I wanted to do something special for him, so I called the station one day and spoke to one of his firemen. I told him I wanted to bring a cake by, and he decided they would have a really nice dinner and I was invited.

Getting this set up took more effort than I would have imagined. At the end I wasn't even sure it would go off because my husband was assigned to work this shift as Acting Battalion Chief, which meant he would not even be at Fire Station #3!

However, as Acting Battalion Chief he could decide where he wanted to eat, and his crew told him to come and eat with them. Whew.

I arrived with the cake and ice cream before Acting Battalion Chief Firebaugh got there, so we hid the cake.



My husband told me he wasn't surprised and he knew that I had been cooking up something. Silly me to think I could pull something over on him.





Firemen eat very well when they want! We had grilled chicken breasts, kabobs and cooked pineapple. Yum!




He seemed to like the cake.

But then one of the firemen took a knife to it and cut the ladder off the top of it.



Apparently "real" fire engines don't have ladders on top of them, or something. There is a better picture of it at The Green House, which is the fire station's blog.

His men gave him a gift card to Lowe's, which was very nice of them.

My present for him has not yet arrived but I gave him a picture of it.

I am giving him a New Yorker style leather fire captain's helmet. These are handmade and can be used at work because they meet the right specifications.

All of my husband's gear is city-issued and I wanted him to have one of these. He has coveted one for many years but would not spend the $500 for it.

He seemed pleased.

Here are few pictures of them wrapping things up!







My husband started working with the fire department in February 1983. He is now one of the senior officers and is Captain of Fire House #3. I am very proud of him!

Happy Birthday, my love!

A Busy Day

Today is a busy day, not to mention an early one.

At 6 a.m. I was outside with a water hose and a Miracle Grow feeder. I wanted to get that done so it could dry off a bit before I started weeding.

After spending time at the computer, I will soon be heading back outside for chores. My roses need attention, the weeds need pulled. I think I'm going to transfer the marigolds out of the whisky barrel so those unknown mum-things won't choke them out.

Busy busy busy!

Tonight I am doing something special for my husband, who turns 50 on June 2. I'll write about that tomorrow! (No, not THAT!)

The Joy of Friends

I don't often write about my friends, mostly because I try to respect everyone's privacy. But today I think I will talk about some of these lovely women!

Yesterday I lunched with my friend B., who told me about her plans for a new home.

Building is so much fun! Imagine the great time she'll have packing away the house she's lived in for the last 22 years. She'll find stuff she won't remember owning.

Last week The Blue Ridge Gal came out for a visit and we walked the farm. I took her out across the hill and we saw a turkey fly off as we disturbed her. Diane saw the shadow of a deer as it slipped from the field into the woods.

And of course there were cows and cow piles ("Don't cut your foot!" I warned her, which made her laugh).

We took lots of pictures of the farm; it was a good clear day, one of the few we've had this month. Mostly this May it has rained.

Diane is a new friend and I enjoyed spending time with her. Blogging buddies are great!

My friend Jules has been very helpful with my career adventures. She's given me lots of advice and loaned me books on marketing, interviewing, etc. etc. Most importantly she has helped me with my resume, which has been a blessing because I haven't had to have a resume in a very long time.

Jules is a web site guru and she recently expanded into retail sales with indulgetea.com. Check out her store or if you want to learn more about tea, visit learn-about-tea.com.

Yesterday afternoon I spent a few minutes with Cathy, a friend and former coworker, when I ran into her at the library. It was a good gossip session, and I was glad to have some time to just shoot the breeze.

Two weeks ago, my friend Leslie and I went to a book fair, you might remember. We had a wonderful time.

Other ladies who have been supportive of me this past month include Inga, Lisa, Dreama, Anna and Nicole. My aunt, Carolyn, has also been good about listening to me knock ideas around this month.

I am sure I am probably leaving someone out but it is not intentional!

I am so blessed to have these and other ladies in my life. I can't tell you how grateful I am that these gals are around!

Too Cute!

Yesterday I happened to spy a doe and her new fawn in the field in front of the house.







When I came home this afternoon, a deer had eaten all of my roses.

I really think it was the mom, because for the last several years she has eaten them to a nub each time she's had her little one! I know because I have caught her in the act.

Growing Things

Tis the season for growing lovelies!



My roses have aphids but otherwise are doing fine. The rain keeps washing away the bug spray so I guess aphids are something I'll live with this year.



My zinnias are coming up. They are a little spottier than I'd hoped.



Last fall I rescued some plants from Home Depot that they called "mums" only they did not look like any mum I had ever seen.

I thought they would die over the winter but they have taken over this planter. I did not realize they would get so big. I planted a few marigolds in there for color while I watched the "mums" to see what they would do.

So far it looks like all they are going to do is grow leaves. They may be brilliant in the fall, though.

Whatever they do, they won't stay in that planter another year, though I might leave them there this summer.



This is a marigold. I planted a couple rows of them around my flower beds this year. I usually buy annuals but I thought I'd try seeds this time.



This is one of three geraniums that I rescued from the clearance bin at Walmart. They had been marked down to 40 cents.

So goes the growing.