Nearing's Good Life

Again rainfall surrounded my county, the thunder teasing me, but not a drop of rain fell. CW, glad to be home, was munching hot peppers right off the plant out in the garden, Mr. Macho, talking to me about all he did at camp while simultaneously fanning his burning tongue.

In remarking on the Taking My Life Back theme, Sarah mentioned she also wanted the old me back. The one who hadn't been so emotionally battered by troubled children, the one who hadn't had to fight so hard for every service her kids needed; the less stressed, way more goofy one that used to not have to get all worked up over mistreatment, discourtesies and outright lies, stealing and the resounding bullcrap involved in the life that I chose when I added children to our family.

Let's keep the kids but let's get our original life back. Hmmm, well Sarah it won't be exactly like it used to be but let's head in that direction.

I pulled my Living the Good Life by Helen and Scott Nearing off the shelf. originally published in 1954, I have the 1971 reissue. That was my original dream, besides college and a career, I always wanted to live on acreage and garden/farm sustainably. I've managed to maintain some of that along the way but I got too busy for so many years that I couldn't can my produce that isn't growing now anyway thanks to the drought. Another excellent book from the early 70s that deeply influenced me was Gene Logsdon's Two Acre Eden. That's the book upstairs by my bed, the Nearings book is downstairs where I can snatch a few moments of reading.

Sometimes I read on the sofa while a kid is raging, knowing if I give it my full attention, the raging that is, it'll only escalate whereas if I ignore it, it often sputters out plus then I'm not so bored also.

Again working until dark, at least my soil looks good from 15 years of turning in manure, leaves, wood chips and compost. And I'm getting ahead of the crabgrass infestation since even it needs water to thrive, I've battled it for decades, reminiscing with Jesse again on the phone last night about one time I'd made him weed it out all day from a strawberry bed because he'd been suspended from school.

Jesse'd called me regarding a cryptic post where I was obviously angry about something, "What's going on there?" and I filled him in. Again I can't share a lot of details in a blog, we have to work through stuff first and get it resolved.

Jack turned 7 yesterday and he took Nando with him on a Big Adventure with Grandma and Pa in the north Georgia mountains. I'd bought him a new bike to replace the one that he's worn out only since Christmas going up and down our dirt road until he'd rattled nearly every moving part off in response.

Scotty and Tabby, both raging yesterday over Sabrina being gone all week. Sabrina came back from camp, easing Tabby's mind, but that doesn't take away the remnants of her emotionally stressful week where she'd feared her Memaw would never come home, no amount of reassurance works, she needed to experience the return of her beloved sister mama. Scotty smashed two holes in his bedroom wall, shooting my blood pressure into the stratosphere, I simply walked outside before I exploded verbally knowing how much Sabrina's own siblings will make her pay for the desertion.

By 9:05 last night my middle schoolers were snoring, the nine younger kids sleeping hard also, glad that their world has been made right again by the return of the older kids.

I feel asleep wondering if Daniel had gotten his Iphone, he doesn't call me late at night nor do I call him early in the morning so I guess I have to wait until he reads this and calls me...

And how long does Monica still have until she delivers...

The Weather Channel

I'd love to have granite kitchen countertops but my desire for that is outweighed heavily by my greater desire to not make payments on stuff. Daniel had called Verizon several times yesterday until he'd greatly reduced our bill by eliminating. consolidating services....whatever, but he made a huge dent in it.

I've worried the kids at home somewhat lately by my assertion of Taking My Life Back. I just want to be who I used to be, more concerned about the environment which now means having enough time in the day to recycle the trash better, I want way more garden time as it results in a better mindset for me as well as better eating. I've just spent 20 solid years adding to our family and now I want to use some of that time on concepts that I had to push aside for so long.

I watched the weather channel like a hawk late last night as a line of storms absolutely dissipated by the time it moved west to east, drenching Atlanta's pavements but giving us nothing. I'd swallowed a Benadryl as the poison ivy was making me crazy and then, naturally, had three phone calls to handle after 9 p.m.

This morning I get my middle schoolers back, I talked to their youth pastor late last night, all the kids are doing well. I don't think I even blogged our embarrassing event last year involving Fabian's rule-breaking. He's lucky he wasn't arrested and he'd provoked our youth pastor into hollering, "Are y'all trying to give your mama a heart attack?" He'll never be allowed back to that camp again.

Sometimes I have to stop myself from thinking about all the negative events of the past few years that nearly did me in, increasing my desire to remain outside working in my drought-stunted garden for the simple peace it always gives me, where everything seems to make sense, where no one rages at me for stuff that others did to them, or where they openly act out and crap up their lives with poor choices that all stem from their earliest childhood where not a single need of theirs was ever met.

How can I figuratively grab them by their shoulders and teach them to get a grip, to discontinue their emotional negativity and to find joy in a positive life and good choices? Somehow Martin and Sabrina, even Javy and Miriam seem to have that ability, how can I impart it to the others? Daniel and Yolie are such great role models, do they intimidate the other kids? Do I? I just need to keep encouraging every single small step forward that I see and not keep stressing about not seeing enough.

No rain

This drought sucks. Heard County's in worse shape than we are, their water is GONE.

And my Jesse in Texas called to tell me he had water in his living room since it has rained so much there.

Life sure ain't fair.

Big Mama Didn't Think

I'm so impressed with the heavy kitchen table and 4 chairs bought at a yard sale recently that I googled it to find comparable prices. Jeepers, brand new furniture is expensive. How do regular people afford it?

I'd paid $40 or $50 for the set and I'd asked the people why they didn't want it anymore, it was such a nice, high-end set.

"We don't need it, we've bought another one."

People do that? Buy another one to replace an excellent one? Would that be why the average family carries $10,000 in credit card debt? Are they too proud for used stuff? Am I a bottom-of-the-barrel girl with no taste and no matching furniture?

Maybe so, but I don't have consumer debt biting my butt and dragging me down.

Heck, that's what the kids are for.

Oh stop, you know I'm kidding. I nearly drove to camp yesterday just to visit my knuckle-headed middle schoolers that I really do miss. Yolie and Sarah were here babysitting for me, even they miss 'em. Sergi, a day late and a dollar short at all times, had asked on Day Three, "Why is it so quiet lately? Where is everyone?"

"Boy, they went to camp last Monday," I'd laughed at him, as he's spent the last 20 years here wondering what was going on. This man built bombs in the Navy for four years, makes me wonder....

I'd driven to a meeting in town, but had been told the wrong office, cooled my heels for 15 minutes waiting until my hyperactive self told the receptionist "I gotta go, call my cell if she shows up." I'm sure she was happy to see me leave, all that pacing and fidgeting can be distracting.

Received an apology call while I was buying groceries, balancing my cell and piling up sacks of beans and gallons of milk on the check out line.

I'd bought an avocado from Mexico. What kind of local shopper am I? What a yoyo and I didn't realize until I got home and Yolie pointed it out. I hadn't even checked nor had I even thought to check. Totally careless of me plus I'd bought a mango...they don't grow here or anywhere close, compounding my own ignorance of the day. Vanessa said she'd mop the kitchen floor for one and I fell for it, made an excuse to break my own rule. She did mop but I still feel guilty for ruining the environment. No excuses Big Mama, play your own game right.

And for that matter, where does my soymilk come from? Where were those soybeans grown? What about the brown rice? Pinto beans? Black beans, red beans, lentils and whole wheat pasta? My head is spinning.

I'd emailed an article to Daniel, Sarah, Yolie and Marcela about one of our joint heroes, Sarah informing me that her husband had also read the entire article aloud to her later that day. Here's the follow-up to it.

Jonathan had one of his defiant meltdowns, I know he misses Jose and Javy, I realize that, but this boy can go into hateful mode faster than I can get turned around good. It lasted for about 30 minutes, halfway down our driveway as he wanted to run away and show me, we were both soaked in sweat with nothing to show for it.

Baby Yolie and Abuela (Big Jose's grandma from El Salvador) wearing a frilly white apron over her housedress and American Nikes, had decided to walk over to my house in 90 plus degree weather. Coming up the driveway Jonathan eyes bugged out at the sight of the two of them and immediately calmed down, mainly out of embarrassment and shock that a 74 year old woman was booking along like that.

Escalating later in the evening I refused to be drawn in by his mini-rage, I went outside to pull weeds out of the cement-hard ground until dark. Irked at the total absence of rain for months, my Navajo blackberries have somehow rewarded me with their large, very sweet berries. A heavy wood chip mulch, courtesy of Sonny's graduation from Big Mama Scrounging Ability Course 101, has saved my garden from total disaster. Thank God Sonny'd stopped that wood chip truck and asked them to dump it at our place. And he'd drug home mountains of leaves last winter.

The meeting that I'd been misdirected to earlier had been about my Alex, who's resided in a psychiatric hospital for four years. They've come up with a very good Plan J, having exhausted Plans A-K, and Alex called me last night also. We had a great talk, she was very lucid and I told her I'd come get her to visit us when Monica has her baby any day now. We hung up, Alex excited and motivated to comply there, I'm heartened to have had such a good talk with her as lately our relationship has been strained, both of us stressed by problems caused by neither of us.

And Vanessa successfully completed two summer school classes. Unbelievably school starts back in just six weeks.

Yep

I dare the world to read this entire article that Sarah found and not change one's eating habits. It should be required reading.

Poison Ivy and Haircuts

While Texas is flooding, we 're in a drought, the likes of which only come every 50 years or so, claimed our local weatherman, but then he remembered a time in the 80s, as do I, when it was also this serious. As a farmer/gardener I am frustrated.

I still felt gastronomically challenged from our all-you-can-eat venture the other night, it's hot, who even wants to eat every single day? Duh, my kids do and since nine little kids at home seems like nothing, 11 year old Tony said he'd make angel hair spaghetti pasta and let me go outside and watch the dirt fry and weeds sizzle.

Sarah'd posted again and she'd been on a roll about all-you-can-eat places anyway; like trans fats, cigarette smoking and regular lights bulbs, they ouughta be done away with, if people supersize their portions anyway, why add fuel to the fire with a buffet that makes one eat til they barf? I know personally that I'd overeat as I'd want to get my money's worth. I saw a sign when I was taking the kids to camp, "All You Can Eat Pork Buffet" for $6.99. Jeepers, is it connected to the cardiac unit? You want an IV with that? People still eat pork? Oh, puke, I'd sooner eat a turd and I'm not kidding.

Sarah and I really do read out loud to each other, call constantly to tell the new stuff we've learned, we hardly live a couple hundred yards apart, we could probably just holler, but there's too many trees in the way to see the other person's reaction and besides we'd probably annoy her husband what with Sarah hanging her head out the windows all the time and me bellowing over the kid's raucousness.

The only thing really growing in spite of the drought is the poison ivy that I'd tackled the other night with gloves on and dadgum if it still didn't get me. So I took my itchy ole self to town and got my black roots dyed once again while Miss Angie gave Lily the coolest haircut on earth.

Right around the first day of each season I treat myself to a hairdo job, making an appointment for the first day of fall but knowing Sarah might deliver that day, Angie's flexible, working out of her house, I can change it if I'm then yelling, "Push, Sarah!" while asking her if she's read Vegetarian Times yet which will remind her about another article that she meant to tell me about, even while she's in labor...that's how we act around each other.

She's babysat for me yesterday and filled my inbox with articles that I'd read early this morning.

Missing the Middle Schoolers

For Fabian's home visit I've been glued to his side, even making him attend Monica's baby shower on Sunday, making sure he's supervised at all times. Vanessa and Miriam have also kept him on a very short leash, which he doesn't mind, he truly loves his sisters. He's done quite well, giving me hope of course but my cynicism and experience have taught me that anyone can hold it together for a few days...it's the long haul that's difficult.

With Allen at camp, JoJo is restless, I've been unable to sleep most of the night, finally giving up the effort around four, and now at 5, JoJo has joined me downstairs, but he curled up and went back to sleep. Honey, I wish.

Paloma and Tabby had brought sleeping mats to my room, we all camped out up there last night, they easily went to sleep while I kept changing channels on the TV, too uninterested in every single show, too tired to go back downstairs and get my book.

Grandma had watched the nine little kids last night so I could take the older kids to the dollar theater, Blades of Glory, OK y'all that was PG-13, maybe they oughta revise the ratings? Jeepers.

Rumbles of thunder since 2 pm yesterday, the weather channel showing rain everywhere but on my side of the county. Negative ions in the air making me incredibly restless.

Sarah brings her laptop here each day and all her work for her clients so that Ray can play with Tabby and Nando. Our computers are both in the same room yet we still email articles to each other, she sent me this one and what jumps out at me is the public's fascination with the food backstory. I totally agree.

I'd let Fabian choose a place to eat out last night, something we so very rarely ever do. He chose a Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet and I hardly ate at all. Yuck, what kind of oil was used? Why does all the food glisten so strangely? Is this local produce? Why is there no brown rice? Was the fruit grown in Chile? Go home, Cindy, eat what you know.

I'd kept my mouth shut but golly Americans have crappy eating habits. I watched other people pile their greasy food high on their hard plastic plates and I had to wonder how they digested all that slop with zero fiber and questionable ingredients.

I'd cooked the little kid's favorite before I left, plain pasta with grated cheese and hot pepper sauce. Wash it down with milk to get protein, the kids were scarfing it down, two plates for some of them, I wished I'd eaten at their table as I felt queasy from inhaling MSG and other additives in the restaurant air.

I truly don't mind not eating out like other women my age. It's no sacrifice for me to stay home and cook for my family, it's my pleasure compared to eating cardboard and chemicals in public eating establishments.

I've recently found a soy protein that adds 25 grams of protein to my unsweetened yogurt smoothies that I've been craving every day. Store bought smoothies are mainly crushed ice and Sarah, my personal foodie, had pointed out the obvious that I hadn't thought about, use frozen fruit instead, another reason to eat at home and reduce my carbon footprint.

I don't mind staying home all the time, not getting my nails done, not shopping...maybe all that truly annoys me are the holes in the walls from angry fists or the ingratitude when I'm wiped out and they are still demandingly acting out.

With the kids home for the summer, I've been sending my mom or Sarah to the grocery store for me as there are only so many hours in the day and it's hard to get away. My kids are so emotionally demanding, glad that school is out, wanting to absorb as much home-time as possible, we swim everyday and they ride bikes and play hard.

It it eerily quiet without my middle schoolers...I miss them. I really do, overall they are a neat bunch of kids although Jose has been a handful lately.

(By the time I finished typing this post, getting lost in the carbon footprint link, distracted and reading their links, Vanessa has gotten up to bake a cake for summer school...nobody can sleep apparently when the other kids are gone. Edgar's left for work and Miriam's fixing to go in a minute to do the breakfast shift at McD.)

Sarah's Beets

Sarah just blogged this morning.

Monica's Baby Shower

Monica's church, 30 minutes away from here, threw a baby shower for her yesterday afternoon and somehow I managed to get there after our church and hardly late at all.

Monica's due in about three weeks. Gina's pictured holding Cindy Mae. And by the time I'd returned home it was hotter 'n snot and everyone was bellyaching to swim.

By late evening I was out back in my dried and fried garden, praying for rain and wondering why only the patches of poison ivy were thriving. OK time for garden gloves and a bad attitude, I attacked what I could get to, yanking it up until I heard a blood-curdling scream, immediately followed by cries of "MOM!" from about a dozen kids.

Sonny got to the scene of the CW-Lily full-speed bike collision first, untangled them and carried Lily in the house where I determined it wasn't serious enough to head for the urgent care center where they'd greeted me last weekend with, "Cindy, we were just talking about you and how we hadn't seen you for months." I'd driven Sabrina in for a knee x-ray after she'd done flips and cheers in her room, cracking it hard against her new bed. It took a dozen attempts to determine there was no hairline fracture.

For this many children, we are blessedly free of too many accidents.

This morning I'm driving 8 kids to middle school church camp.

Pictured below was a decent sized pot I'd bought for a couple of dollars at a yard sale, planting in it the minute I got home. I'd seen a $30.00 store sticker on the bottom of it. I'd also bought two John Deere pillows and a John Deere lamp; total $7 which is a lot of money for me to spend at a yard sale, but I knew Sonny'd love it and indeed he did.

Fabian, here through tomorrow, is still doing good, glad to be home, sticking close to everyone. Edgar took him out to eat and to run errands like buying milk for us with the last $20 bill I had left over from yard sales.

I sent a link at the crack of dawn to Dr. G only to receive a Braves remark back immediately. Dadgum I thought I was the only one in the county up this early.

Yesterday I'd scrambled all over the county at yard sales, Paloma finding the most clothes for school, but the kids added three more nice bikes to their collection and I bought Sarah a small cast iron skillet and a small cast iron pan, I suppose it'd be perfect for making a cup of rice, kasha or barley. Alas, I have to measure by the sacks of it, not cups of it.

And what is up with the Braves? They sound like my family, everyone pressured and squabbling contentiously with each other. Bobby, you're still my hero though. Say what you want son, this is a unique number you're soon gonna hit. No Xanax to calm your butt down.

My garden is fried under the sun, even Fabian noticed the parched ground. "Has it even rained at all this summer here?" Only my peppers may make a show, preferring slightly drier conditions.

Fabian'd also asked me, "Why'd you cut a hole out of one of the blogs you sent me at camp?"

Well, actually, him being a guy, I figured he wouldn't even notice it, but it was when Viper Girl had run away and I didn't want him to worry about her. He's very close to Vanessa and he would have acted out tremendously if he'd known. He looked at me like I was the troubled one for censoring his blog readings.

But what's really troubling me is the information in Gussow's book that I'm rereading. Before WWII Montana produced 70% of it's own food and by 1985 Montana imported 66% of its food from elsewhere. This is true of all states.

I was on a verbal roll, Sonny was using a pickax to reshape the path area out in the big back garden, listening to me carry on about the benefits of local food, how I've let the demands of 39 kids keep me out of the garden too much when, in reality, it should have motivated me to work even harder to feed them better.

I'm going to spend my next 50 years doing so, growing enough to have sacks of it for them to take to their houses, cans and jars of produce, cuttings I've propagated to share with them...a huge attention paid to nutrition which has fascinated me since my home ec class at Thorpe Junior High School that has long been torn down to make room for progress that eats away at our souls by paving every square inch of dirt.


Last year that one small garden area in front of Sonny's doublewide that I'd planted was hugely productive, as were my other gardens scattered over our acres. Edible landscaping is such an option for people in neighborhoods, kids love this idea, my own eagle-eyed, well-practiced young'uns were scampering up and down every path last night searching for blackberries, blueberries and strawberries that are underproducing this year thanks to no rain. Vanessa's friend Hannah, joined us out there where we all stayed until dark.

Jesse was texting me from Texas, I like the alliteration there, goofiness directed at Sonny and I, making me smile and wish that Sonny's big brother still lived in Georgia.

Now at nearly 21 and 25, both are applying to colleges, Sonny here at our technical one and Jesse at a college on his naval base. Both boys labeled special ed by their negative experiences in foster care, both boys overcoming it and excelling, trying to light the way for their younger siblings, frustrated at situations now, and not having my elderly ability to see further down the road and remain optimistic.

Amy in Florida emailed me a quote that had jumped out at her from The Secret, saying it reminded her of me, and looking at Sonny and Jesse, I gottta agree.

"The greatest gift you can give another is the expectation of their success."

Jesse's wife, Lena, had recently paid me a huge compliment, remarking that I'd raised really strong kids. You gotta be strong to succeed. I gotta be patient and steadfast, relaying my positive expectations while realizing that it takes time, many trials and challenges to get there, it'll be part of my kid's stories, the struggles that is, but I have a huge, unbudging faith in God's will for their lives plus their own awesome abilities to achieve their dreams. Sonny and Jesse are great examples of this, I'm incredibly proud of both guys.

Jesse'd had a softball injury, now recuperated.



Lord have mercy I miss this son of mine.

Growth

JoJo has lately been constantly questioning me. Each one starts with, "Mom, when you were a kid..." as he attempts to untangle his past and understand his life, putting it in context and comparing it to the only norm he's ever known. He came here at 3 and 1/2 with his six older siblings and remembers nothing but life with me.

I was a Methodist PK, a preacher's kid, and we moved every four years or so. As an adult now in the Church of God denomination, I greatly appreciate our pastor staying for years and years, building relationships, having a stake and a connection to the community.

My niece pictured here with both sets of grandparents at her recent graduation (even though my dad is standing with her other grandma, and my mom is standing next to her other grandpa) is also a study in contrasts to my goofy family.

Lauren has lived in the same townhouse all her life, as have several of my kids down our dirt road here, and the presence of Lauren's grandparents in her life has helped somewhat to ease the pain of losing her mom to cancer years ago.

My kids have their grandparents here in our house, a generational bridge that helps them emotionally as they can claim nearby grandparents, something our culture is less able to do nowadays, and the web of aunts and uncles here is thick enough to cover them constantly. Nieces, nephews, cousins and siblings-in-law adds to the mix in a positive manner, cementing their stability and security.

Carolina was here last night with her five kids plus her husband's grandmother from El Salvador, a charming woman we all call Abuela. Fabian, home now for a visit, was entranced with Carolina's Estrella and Yolie's Cindy Mae, two of the youngest family members for us.

Fabian's very glad to be home, he's an attached, but very angry and violent, young man. Yolie watched him playing in the pool, "Mom he's HUGE now, glad he's calm."

Yeah, honey, me too.

Fabian hasn't been doing too well lately in his program, he almost didn't get to come home but he certainly needed some family time. I'm wary of having him here if he can't maintain, but often I have no choice. Miriam is taking him with her today river rafting, he's very close to her and Vanessa as they've always been his emotional barometers, Miriam the calm one and Vanessa the edgier version.

Sonny and Edgar went bowling last night, Mayra, Sabrina and Baby Yolie all bopped off to a Middle School Madness event, and Miriam took Tony with her on errands...my kids gravitate to the company of each other more often than not, still seeking that elusive sense of totally belonging somewhere, knowing that relatives here understand their internal uneasiness and deep, profound fears that they could all lose it again.

Edgar had stood in the driveway, "Let me go pick them up," from the middle school event but I knew it was strictly supervised and a parent was required to pick them up. "But I'm their brother (uncle to Baby Yolie)," he'd protested, kinda shocked because that's usually more than enough around here. Family is everything.

It's my continuous full-time job and exercise to keep reassuring them that is forever, that all our trials, tribulations, problems and events bring us closer together and help us see the Big Picture. As they look back on their time growing up here within our family, they start to comprehend that this is so, we have survived it all, we're all the stronger for it, and the emotional binds that tie us all together continue to deepen and remain positive, our attachments grow as does our family.

Y'all can go to Iraq, move near Atlanta, run away and rebel against me but I'm still standing, I'm still your mama. That's non-negotiable, non-changing...it's for eternity and I ain't kidding. Fabian, looking down on me as I fixed supper, surprising himself that he's grown taller, much heavier and very muscular, realizing I'm not as big as I've always seemed to him, but knowing I can rare back at roar with the best of 'em.

An Organic Life

This is not the desk where I post my blogs, this is the desk area up in my room where I file our monumental paperwork in crates for easy access and retrieval as it always seems that I need to prove something, find a receipt, or more likely a psychological evaluation.

Why do people get up so early? Why can't I close my eyes and return to sleep? Why do I feel compelled to barrel downstairs and start my day at 5 each morning? When the roosters crowed I immediately started thinking about the fact that I'd left the irrigation system on all night. Since it is drip, it wasn't much water, seeping deep down into the wood chip mulch, but that's all that it took, my mind was racing so I quit fighting the desire to sleep and I went downstairs for coffee and outside in the dark to turn the water off. Inhaling deeply, the rich aroma of damp earth, moist woodchips and fragrant four-o'clocks knocked me over, made me smile and reminded me that life is good.

I can't wait for the sun to come up so I can see the progress made through the night by the drip emitters.

Dr. G is coming this morning, Dr. Mandy came yesterday and I shared our CRCT spreadsheet results compilation with her. She was as fascinated with its implications as was I, but now...what to do with what we know? We did decide to do further educational testing on Mayra particularly. I must get strategies in place for her asap, I've worked for years on her reading skills, yet can hardly get her to the minimum level for her age group.

The fact that I make my kids all sit and read for 30 minutes every day after school has finally paid off, something we've done for five years now, always slacking off around April as, by then, I'm too dern restless. Everyone's reading scores are pretty dadgum good for kids who've been so academically and emotionally deprived.

I'm re-reading Joan Dye Gusow's This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader. It's only been several years since I first put it down, but I'm just as fascinated this second time by her thoughts.

I worked quietly and all alone for an hour or so last night outside before the non-VBS kids drifted my way, offering to help with the watering, talking to me while they munched on strawberries that are so not up to par this year.

Fabian comes home today for five days, the wilderness camp would have taken away this trip also from him due to non-compliance, but the entire camp is moving from the mountains to south Georgia next week and all the kids were sent away in preparation. Makes me wonder how he'll be here with us. I've grown very weary from the constant self-sabotaging behavior of some of my kids, preferring of course to concentrate on those children who truly desire to overcome their obstacles.

I love hard work, I hate being frustrated with little to no results of my work. Duh.

Vanessa will finish her high school next year not quite ready to march with her graduating class. I've been talking with her guidance counselor about alternatives, on-line courses, etc...whatever it takes because she seems willing to do the work. Georgia has an appalling drop-out rate, the personal costs are astronomical, the costs to society grow as well, I'd rather we, as a family, not contribute to such negativity.

Today is the first day of summer officially although it's been so in my mind for months now, the drought makes it feel like it must be August by now. It was light until after 9:15 last night, I stood in the church parking lot talking with a couple who'd adopted a sib group of four beautiful kids nearly three years ago now.

Claudia and I had matched two of my waiting families with some tough kids from San Antonio, 13 years ago it was me and a sib group from there.

I have appointments today, that'll get in the way of any garden time, maybe tonight I'll get out back for a minute or so, hooking hoses up to the drip system on one bed, patiently watering the rest, praying for rain.

Sonny had wrangled the Bubbas into helping him limb up some trees that were shading the big garden, Yolie decided the pool would be a better place to be if we drug an extension cord and large fan up there and she was correct.

Chuck, her husband, and I had talked about building a shaded area up there. We talked about it years ago and this may be the year that we implement the project.

Ms Carr had taken Sabrina and Mayra out on an adventure at UGA the other day, capping it delightfully with Mexican candy at the Mexican grocery store that they've doled out over the last few days. We had a congressional election Tuesday, Sonny remarking that he was the only Mexican at work wearing his, "I voted!" sticker. I didn't bother going into the entire Immigration Reform discussion with it, isn't it obvious there?

Tony's summer school is over, Mayra is finished tomorrow while Vanessa goes for yet another week. Middle schoolers head off to camp next week, good thing I've found so many sleeping bags lately at yard sales, then it'll be time for Monica to have her baby.

But looky here - no drama, no punched in walls (since Sunday) or broken plates this week, barely anyone snapping at anyone, Mama got garden time, no snakes except for that fat one clinging to Grandpa's window screen, sending me screaming for Sonny, and the attic fan is dragging in some heavy, fragrant air from the gardens outside in the cool of the morning when I can delude myself that all is peaceful.

Real Food, Real People

I don't decide what I'll blog each morning, I just start typing. It's amazing what I don't get covered but if I type for 10 minutes a morning, it's kind of impossible to cover that day's events of so many people.

Storms came roiling in over Alabama, thrilling me with the potential rain, teasing me with thunder but this end of the county, out of all of Georgia, ended up with a bare wispy rainfall from 10 pm until 10:04 while the rest of Georgia picked up an inch of rain. We are more than 12 inches shy of what we usually get and it's only June.

I finished reading one of the best books I've ever read, Animal, Vegetable, Mineral: A Year of Food Life, reading the last pages very slowly as I didn't want it to end.

After dropping more than a dozen kids off for Vacation Bible School I went to the grocery store by myself, shocked at how cold their AC was turned to, and after finishing such a thought-provoking book, I just shook my head in dismay at the amount of non-food products that people eat, transported thousands of miles, laden with chemicals and absurd ingredients that do not support life.

I think I'll write a diet book...most diet books are best-sellers simply by being a 'diet' book, part of a billion dollar business of false promises and impossibilities. But it'd have to be a really short book as the bottom line is, 'Eat Right.'

Eat only whole foods, less than 20 grams of fat each day, more than 30 grams of fiber, 44 of protein and wash it all down with water. Chase 39 kids and 14 grandkids, tackle down huge boys who need to be restrained, and argue fitfully and self-righteously with teenage girls over stupid, hussy fashion choices. Duh, it's easy to be thin.

The lady in front of me was buying more potato chips than I've eaten in a year yet she remarked on the fact that I was buying 6 bottles of Bull and two of the Louisiana Hot Sauce. I didn't bother to tell her that I needed to go to two other stores as we were out of Tapatio and Valentinos as well, nor does this reflect my passion for the peppers that I grow and bottle up. My kids douse their foods and each kid seems to have a passionate preference for different types of hot sauces.

No wonder people are sluggish and unenergetic, I promise the world that would change if people ate real foods.

But what I meant to blog about, when the thought of fake, over-processed groceries crowded my pea brain, was the thought that when the kids are grown, I'll not become a cat lady since I won't then want to feed anyone else, but rather I'll just keep dividing my house plants, installing an irrigation system indoors, expanding greenhouse production, and gardening my brains out until I can hardly move from room to room for all the plants in the way.

This picture was taken in my room and in the right hand corner is a pile of blankets and futon mattresses that the kids have hauled to my room for sleep-overs. It's summer, bedtimes more casual, no pressures to get to school on time in collared shirts...Heaven on earth, spring and summer both fire me up with their enveloping warmth and the promise of abundant plant life...if it'd rain.

I'm the Boss

Yes, I allow bikes, scooters, skateboards and tractors to be driven in the house. My other grandsons, Tommy and Mauri, also came over later, I could use a dozen of these John Deere things, the boys sort of patiently waiting their turns, technically I bought it for Nando, but here's where they all learn to share.

Sabrina, Mayra and Vanessa are all working with Vacation Bible School, Avalanche Ranch, each evening this week. Nando and Tabby have joined the other elementary school age kids and are gone each night from 6 until 9, coming home last night with their arts and crafts projects. Next year they'll both attend school and so far, are both very excited about it.

My life is changing as well, I'll only have 9 kids in that age group, no babies or toddlers after many, many years of changing diapers. I'll have 8 in middle school though, now there's a group to manage...Jose is truly the only 'problem' child, the rest are fairly easy, just emotionally needy and academically challenged.

Joey gets out of jail soon, not to come to our house. I am still shaky and traumatized from the Hell he put us through. I'll remain his mother, but I will not ever live with him again.

I'm still finding and repairing his earlier damages and thefts, six months later, and I'm frustrated and upset each time I discover more.

It would not help him anyway, it would just enable him to not work steadily, nor pay bills. He'd cause chaos, be a horrible influence on the kids, tear up the house and make me crazy. He makes life a war zone, the counselor at jail pointed this out to me, he's acting crazy there also. At some point, for the safety and sanity of our family, I simply have to physically withdraw. It would do none of us any good otherwise.

Sergi is almost 26, he lives here, that's not the issue, he is calm, helpful, loving...a decent human being, the way folks are supposed to be. He can live here until he's 100 if he wants, so can Sonny, Edgar, Miriam or Deysi, or anyone else who does not pour out their inner wrath and mental issues upon me.

At age 18, when one thinks one can do as one pleases then one can go pay one's own bills and do what one wants in one's own apartment with my blessings. Have at it kids. But in my home with all my other kids, I'm the boss.

Joey wants to hang with thugs, so be it, but not here. I wanted more for him and someday when he wants it also I will help him attain his goals. The most positive thing I can say about him is that he, at least, does not blame me for his issues. He also loves his siblings and dearly wants for them to not be like him. We agree on this one point.

And again, maybe keeping kids safe through their childhood is the best I can offer for some of them. Some, who are in residential placements and are attacking the staff, at least they (and we) are safe. Fabian is having a tough time while in a DJJ placement. Well no kidding, imagine how hard it was to live with him without professional assistance?

There are some very damaged children and it was so not their fault. I've tried for years and years to help some of them, sought all sorts of professional resources and other living arrangements at times, often to little apparent avail, maybe some kids can't be helped? Maybe I won't see progress for many more years? I simply believe, in a couple of cases, there is nothing more that I can do at the moment.

I'm not a miracle worker, I'm just a mama and I have been pushed away, lied about, rejected and hated...so now I know how they initially must have felt. I comprehend their pain. But I just don't know what to do about it, how to stop grown kids from hurting themselves or doing further damage by poor choices.

Claudia's husband, Bart, put it in words here. It is so hard for us parents after so many years and so many attempts to just have it come to this. Yet I hear it over and over from other adoptive parents. Tough love and our apparent withdrawal from the chaotic lifestyle choices and confusion, the law-breaking and the inability to simply 'act right'...sometimes it is all we can do.

The Real McCoy

I was so angry yesterday that I'd totally forgotten about the beautiful maple antique bedroom set I'd bought for Sabrina, who so deserves it, at a yard sale. I'd also found one of those very large plant pots that go for $129 at garden centers. I'd wanted one for a very long time and, of course, stumbled upon one at a yard sale going for $20, the lady threw in some jewelry that Mayra and Sabrina were eyeing and we all left happy...giddy even.

Nando scored as well with a skateboard and a razor scooter ($2) but his big take of the day was a John Deere tractor mobile.

Sarah had lately been telling us about a cast iron griddle that she puts on her stove and grills zucchini. Of course we found one at a yard sale immediately...I've shopped at yard sales all my life and never seen one until this Saturday. I do remember exactly where I was some 20 years ago when an elderly lady sold me all her old cast iron skillets, telling me that her arthritis made her too weak to lift them anymore. I can remember that but not what I ate an hour ago, selective memory I suppose.

That's the secret to The Secret. The Law of Attraction which says you attract what you think about the most...your dominant thoughts becoming obvious...I attribute it to God hearing our prayers...and Lord Have Mercy, I've seen it in my life over and over.

My friend Becky just told me a remarkable story about wanting to move to town to one particular street in one neighborhood. In her words, "But I made up my mind and I started looking for houses in Five Points. I also began to think, say out loud, believe, and most importantly FEEL like I was already living in Five Points! I drove past the one and only street I wanted to live on every day. Every time I went somewhere, I drove down Cloverhurst, my Five Points street. All this time, my husband refused to be a part of this and refused to leave our county. I would just smile and say, that's okay, but I AM MOVING to Cloverhurst. Long story short, after a month of looking for my dream house in Five Points, my husband's attitude changed dramatically, decided IT WAS LONELY LIVING OUT IN NOWHERE WITH NO NEIGHBORS, and he bought me my dream house on Cloverhurst! YAY! It was way more than I ever expected and it is a home that we BOTH can be happy, no, THRILLED with."

As cool as this is, it almost pales in comparison to her mom beating cancer or her daughter finding the dream job, designing furniture, at the best company simply because she expected to do so.

Years ago, at a yard sale, I found a piece of McCoy Pottery, chipped but decent and I'd bought it, happy as a clam. Yesterday I decided to repot an aloe plant that had quadrupled its size. I thought it'd be better suited to a large clay pot. Dadgum, imagine my excitement last night when I cleaned out the original pot only to discover that it too is a McCoy. JoJo is pictured holding it carefully above.

Expressing Some Bitterness

Sometimes it is difficult to like some of my kids. While I can emotionally and intellectually maintain the love, there's little likability. Lily, sweet to the core, drew this for me, sticking close by while others have acted crazy. I miss Daniel's constant sensibility, Yolie's understanding nature or Sarah's goodness. I miss sitting in church with people that behave.

I want to physically and emotionally distance myself; no volatility, just a cool demeanor that connotes 'give me some space, some time alone and some distance.' Give me a dadgum break.

I'm not disillusioned but I'm remarkably sick of the cwap as one of my speech challenged children says.

Someday I won't have to live this way, I'll be free of their issues but unless they make more of an effort to free themselves, they'll carry this utter BS into all their other relationships, resulting in very unhappy lives.

When we are undergoing emotional warfare I totally want to retreat, cut my losses, quit trying so hard. I want to withdraw from the conflicts, move on with my life, leaving their hatefulness in the ditch.

I want to holler, "Just because others did not chose to parent you, I find it unnecessarily rude of you to punish me for making the choice to be your parent. Don't make me be jealous of others who've made lesser decisions."

If that seems cold and harsh of me, imagine what 24-7 venom poured out on a person can do, I've absorbed it and apparently it's leaking out of me at times like that new diet drug that causes intestional leakage. Let's call it what it is, it is pooping on oneself. I need to get a grip.

I know that a lot of this ugliness around here stems from me 'deserting' them on Thursday, when I chose to go be with others who were hurting. It only amps up the emotional immaturity here, but if I gave in to it, it'd create more monstrous behaviors. It was good that I went, they need to deal with it.

I find myself physically recoiling lately from several of my kids. Their negativity, rudeness and oppositional behavior makes me want to flee, not spend one single minute in their presence. So they amp up their hatefulness, trying to sleep or act up in church, toss jewelry in the air and pass notes like they don't need knowledge? I end up absolutely disgusted with their immaturity and the inability to appreciate life's many blessings that they've been given. The second chance that most former foster children will never get, and they want to waste it? If you can't be nice to me then just stay away from me. I need peace and some tranquility.

This morning after Jose's rage, I missed Sunday School but made it to church. I literally had to force myself to sit with my family. I wanted to sit with normal people who treat others with dignity and respect, not snarls and ugly attitudes nor rudeness and disrespect.

But I don't walk by feelings, I walk by faith and I have no doubt that I'm doing what I'm supposed to do here with my family that acts as if they hate me for doing it at times.

Another adoptive mom, blogged about the stress involved in raising children. I know what stress did to me last year, I'm living with much less of it now with Joey and Fabian not here destroying everything and threatening the rest of the family. I'm also living with 12 inches less of my intestines thanks to stress and the resulting surgery.

We had a great sermon from I Samuel about the overwhelming giants in our lives and I'll gird myself up to keep facing the cwap here, remembering that this is only a blip in the universe, a short period in my life, it won't always be this way.

Elderly?

A reading nook in my room that I've never used, furnished and composed totally from yard sales, like I could read upstairs while the kids were unattended downstairs? Not that they wouldn't mind all the time, but rather it'd be the nonstop interruptions as they'd all traipse upstairs seeking reassurance that I'm where I'm supposed to be. After my 14 hour absence on Thursday, they've been amping up the constant touches and touchdowns.

Sonny just came home at 6 this morning from an all-night church league softball tournament, good thing he's not working today, but he had worked all day yesterday before playing all night.

Monica, Dewayne and Kortney are taking Tabby to Chuckie Cheese today, she danced up and down the pathways of my garden last night, singing loudly in excitement for this upcoming trip to town, while I picked and ate raspberries. Jose'd asked me with total seriousness, as if I'm the village idiot, "Mom, why'd you plant poison ivy with the black-eyed Susans?"

I wanted to mouth off but didn't.

And who plants black-eyed Susans? They reseed all over the place, surprising me each year with their pretty selves.

Cool blog post here, I read it twice yesterday and this article today, for a family that runs between 25-30 people living here, I've impressed my self with our small outlay of garbage, decent electricity bills, and our ability to 'use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without' philosophy. Sarah and I yap constantly about ways to reduce our carbon footprint, eat locally, and it is with excitement as we do so.

We're the size of 7 or 8 typical families but we're all in one house so I divide our bills in my head that way when I'm working outside.

Grandpa found me out in the big garden last night, taking offense that I'd described him as 'elderly' in yesterday's post. He's nearly 80, I'm not sure where he wants the cutoff line from teenager drawn, not at all ruffled that I'd mentioned white trash ancestors. Honey, it is what it is.

Returning...

And now everyone, growling, discombobulated and irritated that I'd left them yesterday...now they'll try and make me pay for it. Last night, Round One, JoJo and Scotty went down screaming over the Nintendo, and Tony had a door-slamming, wall-hitting fit-pitch.

This morning, teetering between hugging me, telling me that life, as they know it, is boring when I'm gone...if you loved me, you wouldn't have left me....it's like the house is empty when you're not here, Mama.

Niggling in the back of their mind all day, will Mama ever come home? Regression was the word Sarah used in one of our many phone conversations yesterday.

Today I'll feel like all I'm doing is putting out the fires that smoldered yesterday.

OK kids, I left and I returned, that's the natural order of events, surely that should build up your confidence in me?

Nope, not on our planet.

My Roots

I live within an hours drive of where all my great grandparents were born, and their parents and grandparents as well, all the way back through the 1800s, on both sides of my parent's families, everyone was born either in western SC or eastern Georgia, dirt poor and farming or sharecropping out of necessity. Dad told me about the shacks he remembered; no screens, no electricity and a bunch of drunken uncles. Good ole white trash.

My grandmother, one of 13 kids and my grandfather one of 7 from Plum Branch, SC...my dad, now 77, was telling me stories yesterday as we drove round trip for 8 hours through the roads that crisscrossed the fields we were from. Heck, I remember my great grandparents, all born in the late 1800s. I remember their gardens, their pride in escaping the grinding, pervasive poverty of the Deep South and everyone's lack of a formal education.

When I moved back here in the 1970s my grandfather hollered at me in dsibelief over the phone, "Why are you going back to the a#$hole center of the Universe?" Thinking he was all that because he'd moved so far north his own self to the southeastern corner of Virginia.

I think this area of the country is breathtakingly beautiful; green and sultry, perfumed air, woods and fields. I'll never live anywhere else.

My great great grandfather was a part-time sheriff in the early 1900s; mean and prejudiced, the county in SC bordering one in Georgia.

Wonder what he'd think of my three black grandchildren or my Mexican family now, all kin to his lily white, hardscrabble, pompous self?

John's Funeral

It's almost unheard of for me to not zip out my thoughts each morning, but when one sets the alarm (also an unusual occurrence) for 4 a.m. and is slugging down coffee, headed for South Carolina by 4:30, and carrying two elderly passengers (my parents) who seem to holler out gas prices every time they see a fill-up station, one just doesn't get the computer cranked up in time.

Sonny bailed out at the last minute on his plans to accompany us, but Jack's always ready for an adventure, popping out of bed excitedly ready for the day trip.

John's funeral was at 10 a.m., a good couple of hundred miles away, and the Ellis family means a lot to us. My sister had married into them some 20 years ago, although she's been gone for 11, Kevin has still remained very connected to us, Thank God.

At Ellen's funeral, one of my few memories as I was convulsed with grief, was when I couldn't even catch my breath and one of Kevin's sister's was patting my shoulders...I think it was Elaine, but I'm not sure, it could have been Adele or Yvonne. I was so stunned and shattered that day, but yanked out of my dense cloud of sadness 10 days later when CW was born. Kevin has now had the unimaginable task of burying his wife that day, and two brothers since then.

There is nothing like a very strong faith to carry one through life's trials because honey, they're gonna come at everyone.

John was my son-in-law Preston's age, way too young to die, the ALS giving him no other end result though. He left a loving family and a gorgeous wife who will always miss him. Adele said it best here.

The last time I saw John, several years ago, at a Braves game and he was wearing a Chipper Jones jersey, then not one of my favorite players due to highly publicized affair, earning him an ugly moniker, Ho Jones, by unforgiving Redneck Braves fans. Kevin's parents had included Yolie and I in their family's outing that included most of Kevin's siblings. I don't get out very much and that afternoon is among my treasured memories.

Adele mentioned that John would have wanted everyone to have fun, and as such, it was wonderful to see my niece Lauren and all Kevin's family yesterday even though the heaviness of John's passing was evident in everyone's faces. He was a hugely loved man, a guy who loved life and loved his family. It made me think a lot of Ellen yesterday, leaving the church I couldn't even look back at Lauren who'd cantored and was up front of the church, devastation on her face, I just wanted to run up there and hold her but this was a Catholic funeral, decorum necessary, and even in a Church of God funeral I wouldn't have stepped out of line, duh.

Yesterday in South Carolina I was Ellen's sister or Lauren's aunt, not Big Mama, which is usually inescapable. Disconcerting somewhat for me, I was white, not Mexican, for a day.

Goodbyes are so painful, I know our promise of the reunions in Heaven. John and his brother, Chris, who's already gone and Ellen must have had a blast this week.

Kevin's mom had mentioned that when she catches up on my blog all the events are backwards, resolved before their descriptions, I hope someday to turn this inside out into a book that reads better, tightly edited instead of my pain splattered at times in the words.

His sister-in-law, Tracy, catching me by surprise in a hallway, as my mind was back in Georgia worrying and fretting over the kids I'd left with Sarah and Yolie, there with her two cute as buttons sons, here's the blog I'd told you about. I read a dozen or so crime blogs, many personal finance blogs and quite a few environmental ones, that's my early morning times when it's still too dark to work outside and I'm guzzling coffee.

Kevin is one of 8 kids, Adele's husband is one of 10, my other sister-in-law Mary is also one of 10 kids so common in Catholic families in the 1950s when I was born. When I lived in Virginia, I remember my other large families, sure don't see that anymore except in my imaginary friends on the internet, all comprised of adoption.

No cell again...

Dadgum, two hours on the phone with Verizon techs, two trips to the mall store (by Miriam), a replacement phone and still nada. They're sending a tech out here to check the network in our area tomorrow but that doesn't help me now. Mine, Miriam's and Edgar's phones don't work, Vanessa and Daniel's do...Vanessa on phone restrictions for running away so I'm using her phone until mine is fixed. I outrank anyway.

And Linda B figured it out in a heartbeat who the bald head attorney is. Girl, you got a memory.

Resisting The Urge to Smack Someone

Had to go to court early this morning with Deysi. We were in and out within an hour, prompting me to squall, " I scrubbed my feet clean for this?"

Someone I've been irked with for 15 years was also there, my former divorce attorney who didn't do so well by me, later married yet another wife who made a very disparaging remark about Mexicans in front of me. When it was time for us to leave, I resisted the very strong urge to pop him upside his bald head.

Deysi entered a "not guilty" plea, next court is in August. I sat there watching what appeared to be a courtroom full of UGA students on DUI and underage drinking charges, each one with a parent and an attorney. We were in the next county over where I still knew three lawyers, the court reporter and a deputy, the result of 30 years of living here.

Between my kids full of impulse control issues, aggression and those who think they're invincible, I seem to have spent a lot of time in court over the past couple of years, emotionally supporting them, letting the chips fall where they may, me not paying their attorney fees. How would they then learn their lessons if I 'protected' them from the consequences?

By me not thunking that man with the prejudiced spouse, I believe I showed admirable restraint, I think I growled quietly, Deysi knew why when he walked in. Being 31, my kid for a long time, she remembered. The rest of my kids don't even know I've been married twice.

Swiss Chard

Julie had asked awhile back to see some garden pictures but my garden is pathetic, dry as a bone.

The kids wanted tuna and rice tonight smothered in pickles, makes my skin crawl, but I'm cooking it for them. I'll steam and eat this entire pile of Swiss Chard.

At lunch I'd found at least that much Bronze Arrow leaf lettuce and some of last night's lentils and brown rice, hardly a teaspoon left ocer as the kids treated it like dip. Huge piles on their plates with grated cheese and jalapenos, they then ate it all with tortilla chips.

Praying Hard for Rain

Call me overly cautious, whatever, but this picture was taken before we put on their swim vests. I have a rule, if you're inside the pool fence and can't swim, you wear a vest, resulting in white backs and tummies, silly tans, but who cares? This isn't a fashion event put together for you by Coppertone.

I'd had them swim early yesterday in my own giddy anticipation of a rain prediction that never materialized. My body, finely tuned to barometric pressure, uneasy all afternoon, waiting for the emotional release that rain would bring, theoretically drowning out my drought worries, but oops, no such luck. Same weather scenario today, I'll be jumpy, watching the skies and trying to erase The Grapes of Wrath dustbowl from my mind, willing the skies to cry on my gardens.

I keep replanting that which doesn't sprout in dryness.

Jose was iffy all day long, aggravating, not getting along with anyone; kids barreling through the house to find me and complain about his anarchy in following any rules. No kidding y'all?

JoJo went down screaming in the night's best rage contest, pissed off at my intention to eliminate him from the nonexistent competition - putting him in timeout as all his limbs waved disjointedly like an angry ape because I would not let him physically retaliate an imaginary slight to his fragile psyche.

One of my non-house dogs walking in the living room to lick my hand as I type this morning, if anyone'd ever shut a door the dogs might even mind their own rules, but bad behavior must be contagious, if not infectious. "Get OUT," I'd reminded the 70 pound canine, watching her obey me just reminds me that she must have better sense than most of the inhabitants of my planet.

Sonny's going with his Sunday School class today to Six Flags, the summer school enrollees green with envy, the rest of the children already playing Nintendo or computer games before the sun is very high in the sky.

I'm going outside to beg plants to grow from rock hard dry ground, baked to the bone in our intense Georgia heat, the sun blazing down frying my mulch, sizzling the plants and shriveling production to nothing at the moment.

Oh well, mama said there'd be days like this. I'll just haul more wood chips to protect their little plant feet, keep 'em cool and retain the three drops of rain they've seen in June.

Before anyone could try and ruin my good mood after church yesterday, I clipped my hair up, grabbed some shorts with great pockets, that I'd gotten out of a bag from Miss Nancy, and flew out to the big back garden where I am literally months behind. What Georgia yo-yo, besides me, hadn't already planted watermelon? I blame the kids and their demands on my time for my horticultural shortcomings.

I planted an heirloom variety, Moon and Stars plus some Black Eel Zucchini and Hale's Best Cantaloupes, but if we don't soon get some rain, I've wasted some great seeds. Our growing season is so long though that this time delay won't matter.

I sweated like a pig in the blazing sun and sweltering humidity, but it makes me think, regroup and become ready to face another week that doesn't hold too many challenges.

I watched the kids swim for their usual couple of hours, and I went back outside after supper to get even dirtier, yanking out more chocolate mint with its very invasive roots, perfuming the air as I worked. Realizing I'd never get this last bed built where a compost pile once stood, I grabbed some old cinder blocks, outlined it, watered it and threw the seeds in the last foot of pure brown gold, knowing good and well that a nest of snakes had burrowed right beside it. I kept one eye on the obvious snake hole while I mulched a foot deep trying to maintain moisture. The same hole that a copperhead had crawled out of a month ago. Yuck.

That bed aint' purty but is sure is fertile, I'd a used an old inside out tire if that was all I had just to get it done.

I don't count calories but here's an interesting data from an article, Coffee's perk -- It's healthy
Coffee calories
Most leading specialty coffee roasters have arrived at similar calorie counts for their various drinks. The figures listed below are for 12-ounce servings.

10 Regular cup of coffee, no cream or sugar

110 Regular cup of coffee, plus cream and sugar

120 Cappuccino

200 Latte

310 Mocha with whipped cream

370 Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino

And who knew I wouldn't link this damnation of meat? Again it is a contamination matter yet I can stand out in my garden, eating unwashed tomatoes right off the vine with my dirty hands and be healthy. If I had one wish for everyone's better health, it'd be for all human beings to have 4 or 5 organic tomato plants right out their back door.

John

For such a strong woman of faith, I have a hard time with death.

Hardly a dozen years ago there was a sibling group of 4; my brothers and I plus my sister, Ellen, who was married to a man, Kevin, who had 7 siblings.

A dozen adults siblings between the two families until Ellen died of breast cancer and Kevin lost his brother Chris in a car accident. Last night I learned that his brother, John, had lost his earthly battle with ALS. Somehow, in my wonder state of denial, I'd kept praying for him to pull through, to beat an impossibility.

Now my strong, sweet niece Lauren has lost her mother, Ellen, and two uncles from a very close knit family. I'd just linked Adele's blog post yesterday here, she's their sister, now trying to comfort her two teenage children.

Remembering how hard my own parents took the death of my sister, my heartfelt prayers now go to John's parents, his wife, and his brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews.

I know that John is in a better place now, free of pain and disease, I know that without a doubt. I don't wrestle with that concept for one second. Often when there's a spectacular display in the sky I think of Ellen, how she's not physically burdened anymore, but I'm hung on on how much I still miss her, 11 long years later. I know I'll be with her again in eternity.

So maybe I don't struggle with the concept of death as much as I think I do. For the ones who are left grieving, I feel as if I rarely have any comforting words, I feel heavy and thoughtless, helpless and wordless. I want to be the mama and take away their pain but I can't do so.

I talked with Kevin last night, he knows I know his emotional pain from this loss, even though my words were clumsy and useless.

I Can't Do What Anymore?

Yard Sales allowed me to get 2 new solid wood kitchen tables, 10 chairs, a heavy dresser with a heavier mirror, an antique lamp for my room, 4 Chicken Soul Teen books, 2 large planters, 4 sleeping bags, 2 covered Pyrex bowls, 2 unused super-nice bookbags, and three toy trucks for hardly a hundred dollars. An entire neighborhood was having a sale and that's the only place we went today.

I also came home with two sacks of clothes a teacher had saved for us and another teacher told me to call her as she'd been saving boy's clothes for me. Now that's the way to shop.

Back home we took the splintered pieces of another table that Joey and Fabian had shattered last summer during a fight, a stinky old mattress and a torn up, missing it's drawers dresser to the dump only to learn that our county has become so uppity as to outlaw dumpster diving as a sport. Jeepers.

Sarah, here with Cindy Mae, blogged beautifully, making me crave arugula...

I'm a Nerd, Not An Ass

Adele reminded me this morning of what I always want to remember.

Amy in Florida had sent me The Optimist's Creed, something I hadn't looked at since I'd once seen in a book, duh Cindy, the internet has everything. I printed several copies out, taped onto bathroom mirrors. Miriam told me she'd read it while doing her hair, that she liked it.

Yeah, me too, honey.

I took the kids to the dollar theater yesterday to see Are We Done Yet? It was OK, tough for me to hold still much. Yesterday's rager stayed home with Vanesaa as a consequence for the bedroom graffiti that he'd totally cleaned off all four walls. Vanessa wanted to stay home and watch TV in peace anyway.

I did a nerdy database chart of everyone's CRCT scores, highlighting those areas in which they'd exceeded standards, as well as when they'd not reached them. Exceeded overruled, most kids are straight-on average, a couple of surprises were evident. Sabrina's scores were similar to Martin's yet her grades reflect her wonderful work ethic.

Dr. G always helps me formulate in my racing mind some techniques and goals with the kids. This next school year I am down to the youngest 18 kids in public school with four others in alternative settings and four in higher education yet Jesse, in the Navy, will make the fifth one taking college courses. Lord have mercy, that makes me proud.

Yesterday, on their day off, Edgar and Miriam took their two youngest birth brothers across the state to Six Flags. That didn't really cause any catfights here with the remaining kids as I've long made it clear that life isn't fair. Different kids get to do different things at different times. That's life, get used to it.

Sonny'd been irked at me for several days. Last week at the ballfield he was being too clingy to his girlfriend who'd wanted to watch a game in progress with me, rather than watch him practice. Well duh. He'd gotten mad at both of us. Cooling off two days later, he apologized, then showed me a GEICO snafu that totally wasn't his fault. Learning how to keep receipts, file personal papers and maintain records now, he was easily able to prove he was right. Happy with his own efforts, that's so much progress for us, I complimented him over and over. He's pictured below.

Daniel had called me with an outrageous water bill story ,I'll be curious to hear the result. He's been raising sand about it, we call it a 'pulling a grandma' in a nod to my mother's ability to get things done the right way. I'd had several miscommunication, mis-billings...stupid stuff that sucked my time up this week trying to get them resolved. Time wasters and good mood dissolvers, but I'd shook it all off and repotted several large houseplants.

I'm off to yard sales this morning hunting for more clay pots, bikes for the kids and Sabrina's accompanying me for 'treasures.'

I'm a WHAT?

To read more about a disturbed young'un who neither knows about the Punctuation Police nor our local sherriff's department go here.

I'm a $%^&

How low have I sunk for an adult conversation?

I ran into Tina yesterday at the orthodontist, thrilled that we could sit and talk rather than chat standing up at Wal-Mart, we probably got a good 30 minutes in before Martin was already finished and making a new appointment. As soon as it was printed out I sprinted back to the waiting room, "Tina! Make yours on the same day, same time," as she was then immediately writing the date on her hand.

Sarah got an Edgar-Demando telephone dose as I'd not taken my cell phone, but rather Vanessa's instead. He'd called the house, questioning Sarah, sure I'd finally taken off to the non-existent Dew Drop Inn Lounge, never to return and parent again.

Jeepers, son, what does it take to convince you of my commitment?

Last night, he'd come back home, "Ride with me to Verizon, I need you to hold my hand." Figurative of course, I'd put his name on the account as well, but Daniel usually tends to everything. Of course I went with him, returning with a box of Krispy Kreme since the hot light was on, I'm not a total food purist, I have this weakness.

I kid you not, his day off today, he's sprawled on the couch with me as I try and type in the two square feet left on which to perch, running his mouth by 6:30 this morning.

Dr. G is coming this morning, good thing too as Jonathan had a raging fit last night, scrawling misspelled cuss words on his walls about what a %itch I am because I'd originally sent him to his room for hitting Nando. Mean Ole Mama. The only woman in the world willing to deal with him and his troubled siblings....all way too disturbed to appreciate it.

Joey's Update

While I was meeting here with DJJ and signing some papers, I received a call from Joey's counselor at the jail. He had been given a 90 day sentence, no Paris Hilton sentence reduction for him. No siree bob, that boy earned himself another month for bad behavior.

OK, guards with guns and he still won't behave? No wonder I felt as if I'd been barking at blue moons all last year, he isn't about to listen to anyone.

At the end of June he'll be driven from two counties away to a bus station, he claims he's going to go live with some friends.

I'll keep praying for him to get it together.

Early Morning Quietude

I am very slowly reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle...slow because my time is limited and because there's so much fascinating information. This book is going to rank as an all-time favorite for both Sarah and I.

Yesterday my mind was truly boggled by the figure 54.8 gallons of soda swallowed per person per year in the U.S. The thought make me wanna puke, all that sugar and those nasty chemicals washing through one's body, no wonder people claim fatigue. Type II diabetes on the rise as a result also.

I've rarely had a soda in my life, been cold turkey for several decades. What if I hadn't done so? Then I'd have put 2915 gallons through my body by now. I can easily assume that I drink at least half a gallon of water a day...that's a conservative estimate as I guzzle it constantly. That's over 11,000 gallons over 53 (I'm rounding up) years although as an infant or toddler that wouldn't be so, but there's been days in my adulthood when I've easily drank a gallon a day. I work hard and sweat with the best.

I've said before that my kids rebel against me, when they're grown, by eating at McDonalds. But Big Joe, alarmed at the weight he'd put on, has quit doing do, losing 40 pounds immediately. Duh, Joe.

A billion year ago, when I only had one child, we'd watch the garden grow since we didn't have a TV. Yesterday I had a moment to do so again, sitting there admiring the Swiss Chard and praying for rain. I garden better when I can listen to my hens clucking, it's comforting and peaceful to me. I soaked it up like nobody's business, happy as a clam, grateful for the opportunity, happy to be so obsessed with something so rewarding.

The Bubbas were volunteering to bring me wood chips from the meadow, where we have them dumped for free, and I was puttering around, thoughtfully digging down to observe the various stages of decomposition, white webs indicating activity and even in this crappy drought, 92 degrees, there were still earthworms in slightly damp soil.

In the afternoon the kids were swimming until Baby Yolie called to ask me to take her mom to the doctor. Sarah immediately and correctly diagnosed Carolina's mastitis.

I'd dropped the kids off at church for youth group and taken Little Miss Grown Grandbaby, now 12, to Publix with me to fill her mom's prescription and pick up groceries, this time even Tommy clamored to join us now that he's been dethroned by Estrella.

My imaginary friend in Idaho has now joined me in Grandmaland, both of us raising large difficult families, seeing why, understanding our place in the ring of life in these babies, finally feeling the internal reward we'd been seeking throughout decades of frustration. This is her first grandchild pictured here. Is she beautiful or what?

Yolie remarked that I'd put a lot of CJ pictures up lately. Well duh, Vanessa shedding her Viper Girl skin once again, finds solace in the grandchildren who neither judge her nor threaten her emotional self-esteem, loving her unconditionally but placing no demands on her. After summer school yesterday she'd retreated to Yolie's house, ostensibly to 'help' but also for her own needs.

I found myself cooking the 20 pounds of potatoes at 10 pm instead of earlier for supper after our schedule went haywire, Sabrina and I were the only ones awake by then.

Being old, 4:54 a.m. my roosters reminded me that sleep is elusive, might as well get up, say good-bye to Edgar and roust Miriam from her very enviable ability to sleep since she needs to go to work as well on the breakfast shift where she doesn't eat (McDonalds)

When I was a kid in the 1950s, my parents never bought coca-colas for us therefore I never acquired the taste for them, interestingly my kids also drink milk, water and tea instead of sodas as a first choice, even my grown kids. That's satisfying for me.

My nerdy calculations don't factor in the pot of strong, black coffee I drink each morning. Bean Soup for breakfast so to speak.

Hard to even see Yolie as she's buried most of the time under two children, CJ now adjusting to his baby sister who has, of course, captivated our family. Ray touched her leg yesterday and told Sarah, "She's squishy!"

I got Jose over to a different mental health agency that has helped us in so many ways over the years. I met with yet another therapist, the turnover being huge, and I really liked this lady. So did Jose which is very important.

We didn't swim until nightfall yesterday, a quick storm didn't give us much rain, but I'm happy with anything we can get.

We've been super busy with summer school, jobs and our life. Edgar had brought my laptop back to my room around 11 last night, both of us up before 5 this morning, Miriam a few minutes later, and my kids are all up before 7 each day. I love summertime, without the pressure of school and deadlines, the kids were all eating yogurt before bed, soaking wet and happy from the pool. We really do have more good moments than bad or else I'd be having a hard time getting up each day.

Sergi's packing up last night's spaghetti to take to work... boy, you're fortunate to even find a bite, but heckfire I'd cooked 11 pounds of pasta for my truly bottomless, hollow-legged young'uns.

My ding-a-ling, JoJo, just overhead Sabrina telling Paloma that Vanessa, Tony and Mayra almost got bus-left, that mama'd nearly had to drive them to school.

"School? It's summer!" JoJo shouted in disbelief.

What an oblivious nutbird. He hasn't noticed them leaving for the past several days?

I just read that John Ramsey is dating Beth Holloway, they got together united by their struggles and their grief over their children...in that case I oughta date Taurean Blacque.

That'd really send Edgar's imaginary GPS system into overdrive.