Rusty, and wiggly

 

I used to paint on old pieces of found wood, and sell the signs at the nursery.  I loved doing it, and it was a fun creative outlet.  But hand lettering is a skill that needs to be worked with, and practised on with some regularity or else you get all rusty, and wiggly. 

I’ve let it slip in the last few years, and my aged wood supply kind of went up in smoke once I learned where it was sourced from.  Seems the lovely patina, and chunks of “dirt/nostalgia” were actually cow manure, and other lovely ingredients.  Not the kind of thing that you want to be painting on your kitchen table.  So I got rid of all of my wood stash, and gave it up painting for awhile.

Living in the city makes it difficult to source old weathered wood, but I am resourceful….and that’s why they make hardware stores.  But $10 for a 4 foot piece of wood?  My Dad has so much wood upcountry that they use it for firewood, talk about make me cry.  Some thing got lost in the long distance communication, and I ended up with 6 inch wide by 4 foot long beautifully weathered board, wayyyyy to big to paint on for now. I am saving them for later.

I eventually  broke down and bought a smaller piece of wood, and took it home.  Soooooo smooth, so clean, ah a girl could get used to this.  But at that price, I had better make do with anything they bring me from the woodpile.  Meanwhile I distract myself by doing a crackle finish, and using my favourite turquoise color in the background.  Time later to work on getting rid of the rusty and the wiggly.

And the paws?   Oh the paws, look how cute.  Darling, and relaxed, Boo Boo’s front paws….love him dearly. The fur on his paws is just as smooth as the planed wood. 

If you are a pampered cat, life’s a beach.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

I’ll be shaking it from now on

 

I had nothing to do with any of this.

 

First, this post is about a spider, [a honking big spider]. Secondly, there will be no spidy pics for you to get squeamish over, and by the end you will understand what the title means.  Thirdly, I think that I am working on my arachnophobia, because I didn’t scream when this happened. Wow, that’s quite the accomplishment for me. Seriously.  I am the woman that made her sister suck up a huge spider with the vacuum when she was 9, because I was determined that it would somehow crawl out and get me.  They can do those things you know.  So to fully understand this story, just insert your current phobia in place of any spider words, and you will fully understand what I am talking about.

It started the other night when Bootsie came in filthy dirty, the kitties like to hang out in some “filthy under the shrubs” place and smoke stolen kitty cigars. Then they saunter back home with smudgy paws, and track dirt all over the carpet.

He needed a bath, and I used our towels in the bathroom, which I had to launder, and dry that night.  They were still warm when I hung them.

 

Can’t a cat hang out with his friends

and smoke cigars once in awhile?

 

The next morning when I stepped out of my shower, and grabbed a towel, something skittered across me, and then flew into the tub.  Thank goodness it went into the tub!

A honking big spidy, I mean at least 2 1/2 inches across, and it had been hiding in my clean towel all night.   Uggggghhhhh shiver.

See, you are shivering already, I can see you.

So my husband’s not home, and I can’t pick this creature up for love or money, it’s running around the tub, and there is no way I am going to flush that baby down the drain after writing that other blog post.  What to do? What if it escapes from the tub, I will never sleep again. Seriously, would you if it was a mouse/bug/rat/snake?

 

Can you believe she’s scared of spiders?

 

I call my walking buddy, no go. She’s not coming down to help, she’s on her way out the door.  I called another friend for whom I shall be forever grateful, and she came down in her bathrobe, [see it helps to have friends in the building]. After I open the patio door, clear a wide path through the garden, and open the gate,  she released it into the wild.  Hereby known as the area just outside of our patio.  “Run free big honking spidy, run free.”  I, of course am saying this from a very far away, and safe vantage point, up on the kitchen chair.

And I swear there was the theme song from Born Free playing in the background.

This is certainly the time when you don’t want to remember that 70’s poster, “If you love something set it free, if it comes back it’s yours…..  NO, no, you do not belong in here.  Don’t cue the theme song from Born Free….NOOOOOOO!

Well I survived, and so did the spidy, of course I am going to have to bleach that tea towel she used, or maybe I should burn it?  And my husband certainly didn’t understand this story until I substituted the word snake, for spider.   That made him shiver, teh hee. As for my towels, I will be shaking them out each morning from now on.

Wouldn’t you?

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Technologically remote

 

 

We live with 3 remotes for our TV viewing, one for the TV, and one each for the DVD player, and VCR.  I really don’t know how to use any of them, and I still can’t program the VCR that we have.  So when the ominous TV commercials started to air, telling us that “ALL OF CANADA is switching from Analog to digital by the end of August, the world is ending as you know it” well that is a little far fetched….but you get my idea I was rather concerned.

Rabbit ears for non digital clickers.

 

Apparently the world is not ending after all, it’s just that the cable company is sending all cable households a digital box, “you will get many more channels then before.”  And wait, here’s the kicker, they are sending out a universal remote. Goodbye to all your other clickers, no more fumbling, no more searching, no more pulling out the manual just to change the channel. Life will be so much better.

Or so we thought.  Good thing we didn’t get rid of all the clickers.

Fact is, after much searching, reading, button pushing, and signal loss, we realize that this clicker is rather redundant and can’t really do much of anything.  It can’t program the VCR, [well neither can I], it can’t play DVD’s, [well neither can I]. And judging by the 2 1/2 hour + wait for a call back from our techies at the cable company, many other people were finding it’s limitations, well, limiting.

My frustrated husband who placed the call in the evening, only minutes before he wanted to tape his favourite TV show, realized that he should have gotten up at dawn to get in line. “Take a number, we are busy, don’t call us, we’ll call you, the automated voice intones.”

So here we sit, waiting for a call back, with Four, yes 4 clickers, and I still can’t program the VCR to tape a show.  Well at least the new remote can’t program the VCR any better then I can. 

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

This cat is a peeping Tom

 

 

 

This cat lives with me.

This cat is on a diet.  This cat isn’t loosing any weight. Now we know why.

This cat likes to go to the other neighbours and eat all of their cat

food.  And peep into their bedrooms. 

Notice I said peep, not pee.

[Thank goodness for small favours.]

 

 This cat doesn’t live with me.  This cat lives next door.  This cat is not on a diet. This cat likes to come to my home and eat all of my cat food.  This cat likes to peep into my bedrooms.  Notice I said, peep, and not pee. Thank goodness for small favours.

 

This cat lives next door, this cat would like to live in my home.  This cat comes into my home and eats all of my cat food.  This cat likes to peep in all of my bedrooms, and sleep in my closet while I am out.

This cat does not pee in my home, this cat pees in Boo’s litter box.  Notice I said pees not peeps.

At least he uses the litter box. Small favours…….

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

My new fav quote……

 

 

Yes, well um……hmmmmm.  It seems to be true. 

Have a wonderful Sunday.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Gather up summer, and hold on

 

The changes are undeniable, and obvious.  Cooler temperatures in the morning, a slight dampness on the deck chairs. 

A different light, all day long, and well into the evening.

Summer is winding down, it’s in the leaves of the perennials, looking their age.  It’s in the sky when the sun comes up later each morning, it’s in the fading annuals, that valiantly still try to bloom onward.

Gather up summer, embrace these moments, hold on as long as you can.  Each day is too short, too sweet, too precious to waste.  Make your memories, take your photos, and store away this blissful weather in your mind.

Go to the beach, the lake, the cottage, look at the sky, memorize it. Tattoo summer’s beauty on your heart, and store it for when the winter seems too long to bear another day. 

And when that winter day comes, when it seems the weather will never change, remember that you gathered summer, and embraced it. 

And it lit you from within.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Counting cats, curiosity, and clashes

 

 

If a black cat walks by in the dark, does anyone see it?

 

This is a shot of both Bootsie, and Allie, can you see him back there?.

 

It’s late at night I am wandering outside in the dark looking for Bootsie. I am tired, and all I would like is for his highness to come inside, so I can lock the doors down, and go to bed.  The tapping of the spoon on the tin of cat food is conjuring up black cat clones that follow me meowing, and rubbing against my legs, the problem is none of them are Bootsie.

In the inky darkness black cat, after black cat responds to the clanging of the cat food tin.  Circling around my bare feet, purring, and I peer into their faces to do a visual inspection.

One, two, three …..four.

One, no, that’s not him, it’s next door Allie,  two, no that’s Tommy, I can tell by the walk.  Three?  Could that be him? Ahhhh no, it’s Jetson the shy one.

Bootsie?  Boooooootsie, where are you cat number 4, I hiss, softly clanging the tin of cat food, and mentally cursing the dim lighting outside of our condo.  What are the odds that of all the condos in the front of our building, there would live four beautifully black, and nearly identical cats?  There is a definite hierarchy here, with Allie being the top cat, Bootsie is second, then come Tommy, and Jetson. And when they don’t get along, every one knows.  The good thing, if one of them does something bad, no one else can tell them apart like the owners can.

Of all of the cats, Boots is the one who refuses to respond until I quietly shush Allie away, and distract him, so Boo can dart inside to be rewarded with that tantalizingly smelly canned cat food

Trust me when a black cat walks by in the dark, it’s really hard to tell it was there.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Wasted weevils, and sloshed slugs

 

It’s not easy to see weevils, and slugs practically eat your garden alive in front of your  eyes.  But if you have made the decision to be more green, and use only organic pesticides there are alternatives you can use.

Don’t waste your expensive, locally made, sustainable, micro brewed beer on those slimy slugs.  It’s the yeast they want.  Just mix 1 teaspoon of yeast, and 1 teaspoon of sugar, in 1 cup of water, place in upturned lids of jars,  and watch the slug fest happen.  Sit back and drink your specialty beer, sitting in your lawn chair, besides you will appreciate it much more then those swilling snails.

Nematodes, are extremely helpful to control black weevils. Microscopic living creatures, they are usually applied during the cooler months of spring, they can still be used in mid to late September if the temps are cool enough.  Check with your local nursery.  Mixed with water the creepy swimming [you can’t see anything, don’t go all squeamish on me here,] creatures are poured over the soil in the infested areas and steadily go to work.  They will burrow into the larvae of the weevils and destroy them.

I found that only one simple application cured my weevil problem for a few seasons, which is good, because they are not that cheap.

Ants are not supposed to like mint, still not sure how well that one works, since they liked to carry the crushed leaves away on my patio.  But Borax and icing sugar mixed together and put into places where only ants, not your children, or pets can find it works well.

Touring the garden with a flashlight, and a pail of salty water at night, is more then a good way to get splashed, it also lets you pick off insects and drop them into the water to perish.

See gardening can be fun, so happy hunting.

Or if you are like me, then UMMmmmmmmmm happy  Zen.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Free to be…a bug

 

 

How did I go from being a diligent bug zapper to a Zen bug lover, I’m not sure?

It’s all about bugs, slugs, spiders, ants, weevils, and all the other creepy crawlers. The really, bad guys that eat your hostas, leaving them lacy and ugly.

Problem is, I can no longer care if they are good guys, or bad guys, I either leave them alone, or relocate them to another garden.

I just can’t bring myself to kill them anymore.  Each one has a life, it may not be any more complex then “eat Jen’s hosta.”   EAAAAAATTT! 

Or it may be that their goal is to catch all of the bad guys, like the spidy that lives behind the wall fountain by our patio door. Did I mention it’s a great big hairy, scary, spider.

It all started with him. [And no, there will be no pictures of great big scary spiders on this blog, it’s a spider free blog, don’t worry.]

Gar feeds him the crane flies that show up in late August, “he’s a growing boy.” 

Huge, honking big guy. One that I had to pass by each time I wanted access to my garden. 

I am not a fan of spiders, but gradually I am teaching myself not to scream a ghastly ear splitting screech every time I run into one.  I instead prefer to jump, and run, high tailing it for the safety of a closed patio door.

Yes, I’m some gardener.

I don’t mind the slugs, and those cutesy, wootsie little snails, they get picked up with a tissue if they are slugs, and thrown into the compost bin.  Where I suppose I hope they can eat until their heart’s content.

Our patio is peppered with black ants, who have a truce with us, and are smart enough not to break it, they don’t come inside the patio, we don’t squish them.   Hey it works.

You should see me outside the deck, doing the 6 foot tall, gangling two step, in order to not squish any of them.  It’s well worth the giggle. Add in a water hose, and “oh boy” we are having a hoe down tonight, the neighbours love it.

“There goes Jen, watering the ants again” they say.

So Zen …. it’s OK with me, nothing in life is perfect, and I guess my leaves are a little lacier then others, but I’m OK with that.

If however you don’t like to garden like that, my next post will have a few organic ideas on pest prevention.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Still dancing in the darkening night

 

It was two years ago that I declared, “I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love,” of course I love Gar, who couldn’t.

But this declaration of love was for my new 50 mm, 1.1.4 lens.  And I am happy to say that even two years later I still love this lens.  You can read my Dancing in the Dark post here if you would like.

 

 

The other night I was on the patio, snapping shots, and it was dark.  Not just the “honey turn another light on inside” dark, but feel your way around the sun has definitely set, kind of dark.

 

 

And these are some of the handheld, no tripod shots that I got from that amazing lens.  It simply draws in any available light, and uses it to the full advantage.  It’s adding a new dimension to the golden hour.

Ain’t love grand?

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Dear Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

You, and you only know all of my most important secrets…. 

You Dear Diary, get the best of my thoughts, and are privy to all of my dreams. And while I love my blog, sometimes a girl has things that she should only share with her diary.

You are made of paper, and I love you so much, but I also like my privacy.  And when I saw this article on how to record your memories in a free online Penzu Diary, I was hooked.  It has a double locking feature with two passwords, and it’s all about privacy. I found it in the latest copy of Windows Magazine, and I am ever glad to see this.

 

 

Here’s the link Dear Diary, http://penzu.com/

I just signed up for the free version, but I am really thinking that the paid subscription is toooo cool.  I can email my thoughts to you Dear Diary, and have them show up as a diary entry.  I can turn on the Looking Glass, and see entries from a year before, [of course I will have to wait a while for that].  But who knows what exciting things might happen by then, or where I will be.

I can upload pictures onto my entries, and even share my diary if I like. Can you imagine the possibilities? 

Endless Dear Diary, endless.

Moms can write to their children, and share it years later, couples can write to each other, friends can share wonderful memories….

 

 

I’m really new to this online diary thing, but I am planning on customizing my online journal and making it feel just like a real paper and pen book.  Sharing all my most personal and inner most thoughts while knowing that it’s all secure, and private.

So Dear Diary, this is goodbye for now, I will see you online at Penzu.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

That golden hour

 

It’s referred to as the “golden hour” the last hour before sunset, and the first hour after sunrise, when there is a bronzing glow cast on everything.

Beautiful diffused light that makes photographers swoon, and everything more magical.

Since we are still walking whenever possible, I do manage to get quite a few shots taken in the golden hour. It’s my incentive to get out there and just do it, everyone needs something that motivates them.  After a busy day, there have been many evenings that I would rather couch surf then walk.

Only problem is, that golden hour is coming closer and closer to our dinner time each day.  So I have to get more organized in order to make it out the door before it’s too late. The camera calls like a siren, and the golden light is so appealing, it’s hard to believe that one day summer will be over…and soon.

So meanwhile I make the most of each walk, my ever patient walking friend waits while I click away, loathe to miss any photo op.  The ducks, the crows, the roses, the leaves….click, click, click.  This is one summer I wish to remember in greater clarity, and my camera helps me do that.

The golden hour, a glowing gift from nature.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

A big bang, and a BOOM!

 

Ah, the long weekend, yes a time to sleep in, relax, and just hang around.  Well that’s what our neighbourhood thought at least.  Our first wakeup call was at a brutal 5:00 am on the holiday morning.

We were all jarred out of a sound sleep by a booming blast that sounded like a stick of dynamite blowing up outside of our bedroom window, which it was. 

The sky was filled with a cacophony of cawing, and clucking, and screeching noises from the masses of sea gulls, and crows that had been flying around since the sun rose at a unearthly hour.

We later found out that yes, they actually used dynamite on top of the transformers topping the power lines, in order to discourage the birds from landing on them and blowing them up. Trouble was, the birds didn’t learn quickly.

Our, “life by the sea,” has masses of noisy gulls constantly circling, and it’s not very romantic to clean up the bird’s droppings that polka dot our patio constantly. 

I was ever so unhappily washing down our deck later when I heard another enormous boom, crack!  And just as I looked up I saw a huge cloud of transparent vapours, and a glowing fireball between swinging wires. Another poor bird down, another lesson not learnt.

Suddenly it started to rain.  Or so I thought.

No a passing seagull had hit it’s mark.

Me.

Ah, yes, life by the sea.  Perfection.

 

Jen  @ Muddy Boot Dreams

One legged seagulls

 

 

I am not a big fan of the beach from about May to September, too many people, too many exercise bunnies taking over the sidewalk, and too much sun.  So for me to go down to the beach the other night with my walking buddy was quite a feat.  We even paid the exorbitant sum they demand for parking.  But we got our moneys worth.

As we were walking around enjoying our gelato, and slightly shivering, for it’s always cooler down there, we enjoyed the sights.  There was a busker playing some sort of instrument that looked like a upside down hubcap, but sounded more like a piano.  The sun was gently setting in the clouds, and casting a unusual glow on everything, and the water was calm.

And then we saw the one legged seagulls.  At least that’s what I told my friend they were.  As I pointed out the “extremely rare, and unusual” [LOL],  one legged seagull standing on the rocks, I noticed another one nearby on the train tracks.  I pointed that one out to her also.  “Oh poor things I said….poor, poor babies, look they have to hang out together so they have two legs to hold them up.”

Just kidding, the seagulls were not one legged, they were merely standing on one leg.  That’s what they do occasionally. But it was too good to pass up. Besides, why do seagulls only raise the one leg?  Because if they raise the other they will fall down.  Ha ha.

We had a great evening, and we didn’t even get a parking ticket.  That’s a feat for White Rock, and their over zealous parking lot attendants.

None of the seagulls were one legged, they were just standing like that.

 

I have a new link on my side bar, it’s a sponsored link called Gardening Tips, it goes to the Readers digest.ca site, it’s pretty interesting if you would like to take a look.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams