Bret Michaels for President?

No, he's not running for office next year, not as far as I've heard anyway, but this man is my own, personal American hero.

Of course, he and his band, Poison, crooning Every Rose Has Its Thorn to the 16 year-old girl that I was when they first came on the scene, drew my attention...and held it for a bit...but Poison was never my favorite band.  Def Leppard and Depeche Mode have remained my two favorites after all of these years.  Fast forward past the whole Rock of Love thing, that frankly never impressed me beyond the fact Bret's eyes were still as blue, to about 20 years later and my first (yes, for one reason or another I had to wait that long) Def Leppard concert.  Poison and Cheap Trick opened for them that hot, August night in Atlanta and I was 16 again for a few hours.
 
I was very happy to see Cheap Trick and Poison, so many of their songs were my favorites at the time that they were released, but really, I was about to lose my mind thinking I had to make it through two opening acts before I could finally lay my eyes on Joe Elliot and his band mates for the first time.  I was antsy, antsy, antsy for the months that I had the tickets, quivering like a 60's Beetles fan entering the arena.  It was a BIG day for this silly, old-fart of a wife and homeschool mom.  Boy was I surprised that, though the Def Leppard concert was one of the greatest experiences of my life, it was Bret who made one of the biggest impacts on my life.

It was fun! He was energetic and vivacious, a born entertainer yet so obviously a down-to-earth guy even after years of celebrity.  It was when he got to the song Something To Believe In, however, that his true self became apparent.  He dedicated the song to our military men and women overseas and said that every time he performs it, it's recorded and sent to them.  He then pointed out an entire section of audience that was seated near my husband and me whom we hadn't even noticed, that was made up of soldiers who had just returned home.  Some were missing arms, others were on crutches, some in civilian clothes, others in BDUs.  I have never been so moved.

It's shameful to admit, just horrible, but I lost my sense of patriotism not long after marrying a US Navy man.  It was the way he was treated by the newly appointed administration and the hierarchy that exists within companies that did it.  He was treated as an object, humiliated, used, and basically run into the ground during the years that he was a submariner.  Submarine life is hard, especially on a small sub that runs special ops.  I could understand that.  What I couldn't handle was my husband coming home after weeks of being out and learning that he hadn't slept in three days.  I hated that he was expected to die for his country, but his country couldn't pay him enough to live on.  I hated that I was one of a half dozen spouses who ever stood dockside to meet my husband when the boat would pull in, but was told by the leader of the boat's wives' group that it was my responsibility as a wife to support my husband by attending all of the wives' meetings and functions.  After growing up in a private school and hating every minute of that form of institutionalism, I was just rebellious enough to make sure I made it through the six years of my husband's sea duty having never attended a single wives' meeting.

By the time his second enlistment ended, I was done with it all.  I loved my country, but I was done serving it as a military wife.  The week he was to be released, the World Trade Center towers came down.  My patriotism was screaming through my veins. For half a day, we didn't know if he was still free to go or if he would be required to extend his enlistment.  We were ready either way, to stay and serve or to be released and find a way to serve this country.  When we found out he was able to go, since he had already been processed out, we packed up our van, the two children I had given birth to in a Navy hospital, painted flags and "U.S.A." all over the windows of our van like college football fans, and started a month-long, cross-country road trip from the Pacific Northwest to Montana and Deadwood, SD, through the fields of the Midwest and finally on to the South.  It was liberating and healing, like we were reclaiming every inch of our country from the pieces of crap who were trying to destroy it and gaining back some of the faith we had lost after years of service.

It wasn't until Bret Micheals' open support for our service people did my sense of patriotism come slamming back home.  He had me vibrating with feelings of gratitude for those people and for my country that is still so great.  We left the concert loving that man and his kind spirit, his all-American honesty, and we agreed that he was the best part of the evening.

We watched Celebrity Apprentice the season he was on and his honest nature was emphasized during those weeks.  It was shocking and difficult to watch his close call with death.  We rooted for him, hoping he would pull through.  When he did, we shared a sense of relief with the rest of his fans.

When it was announced a few weeks ago, that he was coming to a local venue on his solo tour, my husband and I toyed with the idea of going.  Life got busy and we didn't think about it much.  Friday night, the night of the concert, we thought that we had a date night planned when my sons had a party to go to.  We were going to go have dinner in town, then pick the boys up afterward.  Well, as it turned out, they had the date wrong and the party was scheduled for another night.  We decided to go to the movies as a family.  While I was getting ready, I remembered that the concert was that night.  My family encouraged me to go, saying they could drop me off at the concert, go see the same movie, but in the town in which the concert was to be held, and pick me up afterward.  Tickemaster was no longer selling tickets and when I called the venue, they said their system was down and they had no idea if they even had any tickets left.  We decided to drive there, since it is only about 45 minutes from our house and see if there were any tickets.
 
Two hours later, while my husband and children enjoyed a movie nearby, I was sitting, biting my tongue to keep my eyes dry, while Bret Michaels made a video of us, the audience, while singing Something To Believe In, to send to the troops overseas.  As it turns out, that night was the one year anniversary of his brain hemorrhage and he was there to celebrate his life.  I am so grateful for such a man and the renewed love for country he inspires.

Taming the Wild Rose

When we first moved to our little farm, the front yard was nothing but weedy, dry grass and cement sidewalks. There was so much work to do on the house itself that we couldn't afford to spend money on landscaping.  I did all I could do to spruce up the yard...I tromped into the woods and pulled out four wild rose bushes and planted them in a row along the street.  After a little pruning, we had four nice little shrubs in the yard and a lot of cement.  A nice surprise was the abundance of tiny rose hips that each wild rose on the property gave us that year and every year since.  They are one of the highest sources of vitamin c, so make a healthy antioxidant tea when crushed and steeped.

We have been here for almost six years.  Every year I have added more perennials and shade plants, fruit shrubs and trees, and lots of nursery rose bushes.  As the beds became more established, I would transplant one of the wild roses to another bare place on the property to let it fill the space while other plantings would become established. 

I am down to one wild rose in the front yard this year. 

The beds are so full now that transplanting that remaining wild rose tops my gardening To-do list.

The largest wild rose I transplanted to near the patio/farmyard gate and have been training it to grow in an arch over the sidewalk for the last three years.  It's finally there, but takes a lot of pruning to keep it from dangling down and scratching us when we try to go through the gate. 

It isn't called a "wild" rose for nothing, in fact, the foliage of the mountains has only recently turned green, but I have already pruned that rose bush twice this spring.

Another, I had planted within an obelisk in the herb garden when I was getting the structure of the farmyard and beds established.  An overabundance of water Iris has made a nice border for that bed, but the wild rose in the center always grows so out of control that we have trouble walking down the sidewalk without it catching us with its tiny, sharp thorns.  I was trying to walk down that sidewalk the other morning and rather than ducking to get under the long boughs of prickly wild rose, I decided to do something about it once and for all.  I trimmed it into a tree shape, dug it up along with the obelisk, removed the obelisk by taking it apart around the shrub, and transplanted the shrub in a large pot. 

I then took an old shovel handle (I knew I was right not to throw that away and would find a use for it some day) and used it as a large stake to bind the rose canes to.  It worked like a charm and I was left with an attractive wild rose tree which I moved to my yoga patio. 

It will require almost weekly pruning to keep my wild rose tree in shape and because I have pruned it before its one flowering period of the year, I will not get to watch it bloom, but I am very happy with my salvaged, salvaged, and re-salvaged wild rose bush. 

The best part is that my little rose tree was free and has always filled a need in the garden. 

I learned early on that you cannot kill a wild rose, but now I've learned that you can tame one.

Another Use For Eggs

Okay, this isn't really a blog post, but this is such a good idea, I wanted to share it.  I don't think I'll buy peat pellets ever again. 
http://www.loveandoliveoil.com/2010/04/how-does-your-garden-grow.html

Where Have I Been?!

Wow!  I can't believe I haven't blogged for six days, it feels like I've only missed a couple.  I have no idea why or what I have been doing.  It's all a blur.  Alien abduction?  Just busy, busy, busy, I guess.  It has been a good week and it feels like we've turned some kind of corner.

The garden is ready for planting and already has cool weather vegetable seeds scattered.  I also spent most of Thursday building a new chicken run for the girls.  We are ready if I can just figure out how to keep that little Bantam in the run.  She's a little Houdini and I just know if she hasn't already scratched up and eaten our seeds, that as soon as they sprout she will eat them.

I have decided once and for all, at the urging of my chiropractor, to give up on natural rosacea remedies and go ahead and see a dermatologist.  He showed me pictures of what my face will look like if I wait to see if "this" and "that" will work.  I am just at the beginning stages so am going to try to catch it.  I'm allergic to both kinds of antibiotics I've been on, though, so am really nervous to try another.  We'll see.

Tax season is over.  Hubby's a tax software developer, so this is a huge deal for our little family.  Now we can finally take off for a few days.  I am so homesick for Florida.  Last year at this time I was desperate to get home while oil was spilling into the Gulf.  I was so sure my home state was going to be ruined for the remainder of my lifetime.  We couldn't get down because my husband was recovering from surgery and had used up all of his vacation days for the surgery.  Can't wait to pack up the van, load my little family in with pillows and blankets and drive until I see the silhouette of Spanish Moss dangling from hundred year old oaks, Altoids and Def Leppard to keep me awake.  I don't dare listen to my love song to Florida, Ghost Story, by Sting, for fear that Hubby will come home to find us already on our way.

Spring is really here.  Everything's green and fluffy.  We cleaned up around the concord grape trellis and are ready to train the vines on the new wire we have strung.  Maybe this year I will finally get out the wine making kit that my dad passed down to me, to see if I can figure out how to use it.  It will be a race to get to the ripened grapes before the deer do.  I didn't make it last year.  I also didn't get to use many leaves for stuffing before the Japanese Beetles got to them.  I'm going to have to find a more aggressive way to fend them off.  We have used the little bags that carry attractant, but it never seems to help much.  I also read that the attractant causes more problems the following year because they lay eggs near the bag and more beetles emerge in the summer. 

Went to Paula Deen's Kitchen last weekend.  I'm not a big fan of hers, though I have to admit she's a fabulous cook, just can't tolerate watching her for more than a few minutes on her show.  Her restaurant was wonderful.  We are so happy to have it close to our home.  There aren't many dining choices in an area as small as ours and it was much nicer than I had imagined it would be.  I'm going to blog about our experience on Edible Tapestry.

Okay, there's a difference between blogging and rambling.  I think I'm rambling at this point.  It's now 2 a.m and I'm so sleepy I can't see straight.  Time to hit the hay and see what the rest of the week brings.  My favorite Ernest Hemingway quote is, "Write drunk, edit sober."  I think when I read my sleepy ramblings when the sun comes up I will fully understand what he meant. 

Mother Nature Doesn't Always Know

I'm always nervous when I see my hens and ducks pecking and eating anything green in the garden this time of year.  I worry that they won't know if something is toxic to them or not.  Then I decide that they must instinctively know what they can eat and can't eat.

I walked past my beautifully draped, Grecian pot of what I call "sedum" because that's what it looks like to me, and realized my ducks, who had been out of their house for the past few days, had pecked it to death.  My first thought was, "Well, at least I got a picture of it the other day before they ate it." 

Then, I wondered if it was okay for them to eat.  We had just discussed, my boys and I, how the ducks don't realize that they are domestic and much heavier than their wild cousins and ancestors, so when they go to take off in flight, they seem confused when they realize they are grounded.  Their instincts aren't quite accurate.

Not long ago, my neighbor called, desperately needing ground ginger for her very sick little herd of goats who had eaten something they shouldn't have.  My first question was, "Don't they know what they should and shouldn't eat?"  I guess not.  She was able after a few days to nurse them back to health but wasn't sure what it was they had eaten and won't know the next time either, I suppose.

Nature is funny that way.  I remember twice, at two different natural spring parks in Florida witnessing squirrels leap from tree to tree like I'd seen thousands of times, and miss.  One landed flat on his stomach a good thirty feet below, looked stunned for a second, and then ran back up the same tree, I guess to try again.  It was hilarious to see a wild creature goof up like we clumsy humans do all the time.  The other missed the tree he was leaping toward and landed in the water next to me.  And yes, he did look just like I'd imagine a drowned rat would look.

Another thing that baffles me is when my female duck lays an egg, then walks all over it.  The chickens are extremely overprotective of theirs, taking turns brooding on the day's production, even cackling when one of us collects them to bring in the house.  Not Mrs. Bickerson.  I did a little research to see if a domestic Pekin would sit on her eggs and care for them until they hatch if we left them.  I learned that in the wild a female duck will make a nest near a water source in the soft mud and take turns sitting on them with the male.  We let the ducks out of their house overnight to see what they would do.  Day one, I actually watched her lay an egg for the first time.  I've never seen it happen.  I just happened to wake up in the morning and look out the bedroom window that looks onto the farmyard.  She was pacing from one corner of a raised vegetable bed to the other.  She would hunker down in each corner then move to other.  Finally, she just dropped it between the two spots which cracked me up.  We left it there to see if she would choose that as her nesting spot.  The poor little egg lay abandoned for the day, no one taking the time to keep it warm until the next morning she laid another right beside it.  I was feeling hopeful but on day three...there was an egg smack dab in the middle of the path that we all use to get from the sidewalk to the hen house.  It was near the pond, so maybe her instincts were working, but that doesn't account for the two neglected eggs in the garden bed.

So I guess Mother Nature doesn't always know.  At no other point is this more apparent to me as when on various trips through Great Smoky Mountains National Park, our summer playground, we have seen a crowd of people hovered around a mother bear and her cubs.  Sometimes Mother Nature's children are just plain stupid.

Mmmm! Min-tea Fresh!

I completely forgot to check while scouting around the little farm last week to see if the mint was coming up.  The mint is one of the first things we noticed about the property when we were looking to buy it.  It was growing like crazy around one of the patios and sidewalks in the backyard and between cracks in a rock wall.
 
It comes up very early and stays until the first deep freeze.  I dry it all through the season so I have plenty to get us through the winter.  It goes in all of my Greek cooking and we make tea with it.  The boys have asthma and menthol is great for their lungs both inhaled and ingested.

This morning I noticed it when I looked out the window.  Then my son came in from messing around in the farmyard and asked if he could pick some mint.  He brought in a whole basket full of long, green sprigs.

 
While he made himself a cup of hot tea, I made a gallon of black/green/mint iced tea. 

It reached 85 yesterday and after a mountain top hike we are all still feeling a bit dehydrated.  Nothing a tall glass (or jar in my case; love drinking from a quart-sized mason) of iced mint tea can't fix.

Recipes I use that call for mint:

Gyros, Pita, and Tzaziki Sauce

Mint Julep

Greek Beef Stew over Minted Orzo

I'm not the person I was a year ago, I'm finally who I've always been.

"Finding yourself" is a strange thing, especially at age 38.  When you've been lost for almost 40 years, then you finally figure out who you are and accept that person as "right" and "alright", you basically re-parent yourself from the crib.  Finding myself after all this time of searching has required me to go back and reevaluate my life from that far back.  I literally had to pinpoint pivotal moments, good and bad, in my life that have shaped who I am today.  I've had to go back to places in my life at different stages when I didn't feel alright or was told that I was not okay the way I was, and tell that me in that time the message I wish I'd heard at those moments.  It's been like editing a novel.  I know because I have two unfinished novels and this is exactly why they aren't finished and will most likely never be published.  I go back from line one, chapter one and "fix" everything over and over.  During the past year, I have done the same with the story of my life, gone back and mentally and emotionally ironed out the wrinkles. 

I didn't plan on any of this happening.  So many things occurred at once until, like an overfilled balloon, I basically burst and knew it was all over.  I was done.  Answers fell into place.  I could finally see what were problems and what were other people's problems that they imposed upon me.  My whole life I'd had to listen to their noise.  I was never good enough.  I could never do anything right.  I realized when these people, who should have accepted me for who I am, started doing the same thing to my son, that it would never end, but it had to end.  I had given my life to my children and have worked on building confidence in them from day one.  I wasn't going to let people who thought it was okay to do that to a child, do it to mine.  When I finally stood up for myself in standing up for him, they distanced themselves from me.  When this happened, I was surprised to find that I very quickly began to feel relief.  I realized that my own uncertainties and confidence problems stemmed from the constant criticism and fear of criticism that I had always received from these individuals.  With the quiet, finally came peace.  I realized that it was their voices that I was hearing when I doubted myself and if they were no longer "voicing" their opinions their voices were going away and so were my low self-esteem issues.  I had been liberated.

During this last year, I've thought that some day I may regret the time that is being lost and I should attempt to recreate bonds with these individuals.  I have even tried a little.  All I got was more noise.  My life has been so blissfully quiet, quiet enough for me to actually think, that I knew right away that I did not want or need this noise back in my life.  I may have changed, and I know for certain that I have without all of the noise, but the noisemakers will always need to make noise.  I am not wasting time wishing for relationships that will never be.  I always waited and hoped for these relationships to blossom into something beautiful, but there was always just noise.  So, whatever happens, happens.  I can't deal with what they think is "normal" relationship behavior.  I don't need it.  Now that it's finally quiet I see how toxic it was to my sensitive soul. 

Every day is like a new day.  I actually think about how to care for myself each day and for the first time I listen to my inner voice tell me what it needs.  It was always there, but it seems like whatever it needed was criticized or poked fun at, and I was told I needed to "lighten up" or "don't take things so seriously" if I didn't like it or protested.  Ahh...it's so quiet, finally.  My only fear now is if any of the "noisemakers" stumble upon one of my blogs.  I know for certain that everything I've written would be picked apart, line by line.  I never know why it's that way.  My husband and dear friends tell me it's typical bully behavior, knock someone down to make yourself look bigger.  I guess so and I know I can't change it, so for now, whether the noisemakers come back around again or whether I let them come around, I am just enjoying being the person I always was but hadn't yet met.  Amazing!! 

I have also begun to realize that, though I need to be true to myself and am allowed to put an end to what I see as injustices that affect myself or my children, I can work on what level I allow these incidents to impact my attitude.  I do have control over my environment and no longer worry so much about "rocking the boat".  I don't have to sit and smile politely.  I did that and it all blew up anyway.  Sit quietly and smile politely and it's held against you.  Voice your protest and you are criticized.  Can't win.  If the noise starts back up will I be able to handle it with grace?  I'm not sure.  Will my confidence be shattered the next time someone criticizes me?  Never again.  I finally know that another person's perception of me is not what makes me.

"It is when all our somethings are collapsing that we may finally turn to nothing, and find there everything we need." —Martha Beck

"You must dare to disassociate yourself from those who would delay your journey... Leave, depart, if not physically, then mentally. Go your own way, quietly, undramatically, and venture toward trueness at last."--Vernon Howard

"Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken." Amy Lee

"Take a minute to breath and notice where you feel loneliness. Let it come to the surface and honor it. These are the places where you are living half way instead of all the way. Notice whether you can go more into your self or more into the outside world. DO IT. Go all the way as YOU, it's the half way that feels lonely."-- Ane Axford