Meet Simon. The oldest cat on the ranch. He’s fat. And spoiled. And sweet.
Category: Life in general
Categories
The Little Guy
I was sitting on the edge of our lawn, watching the kids play.
It was a gorgeous day. The sun was leaning to the West, playing peek-a-boo through the trees. All the Big things in life seemed, for a moment, to be at peace.
The toe of my shoe kicked a rock in our gravel driveway, and suddenly I caught my breath.
Our driveway is at least a mile long – it is made up of millions of rocks, none of which I’ve ever taken time to consider as an individual. Those rocks serve a purpose for me, but only if they are together, laid evenly over dirt.
Under the lone rock was a tiny bug. Minuscule, really. Had I not taken a moment to focus my eyes, I would never have seen it. My toe, so small in the grand scheme of things, moved an entire mountain, from the bug’s perspective.
It got me thinking about how, sometimes in the hustle and bustle of daily life, I don’t take time to truly focus on the people I interact with. If I paid a little more attention, maybe I would notice the little things going on in their lives, the things that may seem like the smallest of pebbles to me, but are, in fact, gigantic mountains to them.
How hard it is to move a mountain when it is looming above. How easy it is to kick a pebble with the toe of my shoe.
Today, I saw a disheveled man sitting on the curb outside of a convenience store. Despite the heat, he wore a heavy coat and next to him sat a frayed duffel bag filled to the brim. I can only assume that everything he owned was sitting there with him. He was staring at the ground, looking forlorn.
I walked over to him and handed him my lunch, with a five dollar bill tucked inside.
I moved his mountain.
Categories
Land of the Free
Today, here in the self-proclaimed Land of the Free, California’s Supreme Court upheld Proposition 8, a ban on same-sex marriage that barely passed into law on November 4, 2008. I am so incredibly sad – my words die on my lips. So I am re-publishing the post I wrote on November 5th.
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Excuse Me While I Rant
Disclaimer: As I write this I am angry, disappointed and confused. I am struggling to make sense of my emotions. Nothing I say is meant to offend or condemn anyone else.
In the wake of the great change that awaits this nation upon the election of Barack Obama, I am left feeling happy for the nation, and sad for my great state of California.
As I type this, Proposition 8 has a 52% affirmative vote. We wait for the final 4.6% of our votes to be counted, but the chances of it failing are slim at this point. In light of the 20% gap between the yes and no votes on Proposition 22 back in March of 2000, I am happy to see that we have covered so much ground in the last 8 1/2 years.
But, as a Christian, I am left with doubts about my religion. About the bible I have read and loved. For the first time in my life, I am ashamed to say I am a Christian.
We are taught to use our bible and our faith as a moral compass through the forest of life. But as I walk, how can I ignore the signs around me, telling me that I am no longer heading North? The compass tells me I am walking the path of righteousness, and yet. The sun and the stars, the moss on the trees, my very own heart, mind and gut tell me the compass is wrong.
How can I continue to support a religion that preaches to love thy neighbor, judge not, and accept free will, and in the very same breath works hard to oppress people they don’t even know, in the name of God? Regardless of what the bible says about homosexuality, this is NOT the Christian United States of America, and people have FREE WILL for a reason. Just as I am FREE to be a Christian, so should other people be FREE of the shackles of my beliefs. How does one person’s choice to love and marry another effect my life, my marriage, my religious beliefs?
I was one of those kids in history class who just knew she would have been one of the brave people to stand up for civil rights in the 1950’s, regardless of how her family, neighbors or church felt. Heather’s brother Kyle pointed out that most of us probably felt that way.
There are places in this country where they still believe people of color are less than. They quote bible scriptures that affirm their beliefs in their minds. I have heard it with my own ears, seen it with my own eyes. These past few weeks I have heard and seen bible verses thrown at other people as a weapon – people who are just trying to live their lives in the best way that they can, just like everyone else – and tell them that they will take away their rights based on those scriptures.
I am appalled. I am sad. I am terribly, terribly confused. I stand at a great precipice in the course of my life, and I must choose my compass wisely.
Categories
Dust and Dirt
As I mentioned before, Jeremy and I love projects.
You also may have noticed that I’m a bit anal retentive and a semi-compulsive hand washer. Pardon me for not linking to previous posts to prove my point, that would take me all freaking day. (Also? Try saying that 5 times, fast).
It’s interesting how all of those fun personal facts about my life come together, seeing as the projects we take on almost always involve a lot of dirt, dust, insects, and the occasional petrified rat carcass.
Jessica of Bern This asked if I could share some pictures of projects we’ve taken on and Oh!Boy! are you all in for a treat! Just remember, you have Jessica to blame thank for what follows in the coming weeks.
I’ll start with the projects we’re currently working on. Wheee!
Last summer we laid a foundation for a 585 square foot addition to our house.
At the time we thought it was a quick, 6 month long project but… not so much. We toiled away on it here and there, slowly getting things done while life and work and ranch animals and everything else under the sun got in the way.
Just this week we moved into the “final” phase of construction, with the second coat of stucco on the exterior… 
<— front
<— back
and drywall hung in the interior.
You can’t tell, but I took this picture while standing in a huge gaping hole in the wall of my existing house.
<—- dust!
I said good-bye to my special little nook, but, eh, small price to pay.
In the next few weeks we’ll get the addition textured and painted, and install the flooring. Then we’ll move Blythe into her new bedroom, and move Alison into Blythe’s old bedroom so we can demo the rest of the wall and finish making our house whole again.
We hope to be done by Christmas. HA!
In the meantime, I will try not to go crazy from all of the dust being tracked through my home.
Also, as if this post were not already long and boring enough, I’d love to show you the interior of the crack house rental I posted about last week. You all didn’t think we’d manage to clean that place up, did you?
Behold, the talent of my husband:
No more rotting floor! No more falling down walls and ceiling! We’ve still got a long way to go, but if we spend a few more date nights working on it, we’ll get it done.
As long as I’ve got an ample supply of soap. And alcohol!
Categories
Slumlords
Jeremy and I like projects. We actually fell in love while remodeling a condemned crack house, eleven years ago.
Who says romance is dead?
This year, we bought three foreclosed properties and have been working on them in our “spare time”, where “spare time” = who the hell has spare time? It’s more like we work on them when we’re supposed to be sleeping, or having a “date night”, where “date night” = working on condemned crack houses is romantic!
Two of them are now tenant occupied, thanks to my hard working husband, and the third is now in the line of fire. Guess what? There’s a reason we saved it for last.
I now present to you, our newest crack house project:
See the floor? Let’s take a closer look, shall we?
That would appear to be a hole. In the kitchen floor. Yes, hmmmm. It seems they built the floor right on the DIRT, and now it’s completely rotten, giving off a lovely damp, earthy smell.
Know what else we’ve discovered? They put some walls up to create new rooms but forgot to nail the walls to anything. So they were just held on with some tape and paint at the joint between the walls and the ceiling.
Yes, people, we do love our projects. We’re the proudest slumlords you’ll ever meet.