"See Janie Say a Bad Word"

Rachel had an appointment in Bakersfield yesterday so I went along for the ride and to keep Janie company while Rachel was taking care of her appointment. I'm always up for a trip to Bakersfield. Yes, my life is really that dull.

While Rachel was inside taking care of one of her appointments Janie and I were in the waiting room, waiting. In the waiting room with us were two small hispanic boys, one looked as if he was about Janies age. They were talking and having a good time when I noticed that the little guy kept touching and stoking Janies hair. It's red and beautiful and it is hard to resist. His brother saw that I had noticed his brother's hair fetish and tells me "my brother likes hair". Okay. Maybe you had to be there, but it really was funny.

Well, we say goodbye to hair fetish boy and his brother and leave for another appointment. This time, since it was only going to take a few minutes, Janie and I decided to stay in the car.

This was our conversation:

Janie: I'm going to say a bad word

Grandma: No you aren't

Janie: Yes, I am. I'm going to say a bad word.

Grandma: You are not going to say a bad word.

Janie: Actually, Grandma, I am going to say a bad word.

So she proceeded to say her "bad word"

Janie: Oh my gosh. I told you!

She is not supposed to use that expression so she thinks it is a bad word. I really hope that that is the only "bad word" that ever crosses her lips. So now I have vowed not to say my bad word (at least in front of Janie)........Oh crap I just knocked over my glass. It's okay, Janie's not here.

Old and Harmless

Apparently although I am "old",I am harmless. This is according to my 9year old grandson. This is how I came to this particular knowledge.

I pick Tylor up from the bus stop, this is about a half an hour after Steve picks up Trenton when he gets off of the middle school bus. As I was waiting for the bus to come I noticed a young boy sitting on a bunch of rocks not far from where I parked my car. He looked to be about 12 or 13, somewhere around there and just looked sad. I kept watching, hoping that someone was coming to pick him up.

Ty's bus came and he climbed in the car and usually I am one of the first cars out of the parking lot. This time, however, I waited until everyone was gone and pulled up next to the the boy and asked if someone was coming for him. He gave a me some sort of vague answer so I asked him if he wanted a ride home. He very eagerly accepted.I took him home. Thank goodness he didn't have to walk because it was quite the drive. It was way to far for him to walk and Ty could hardly wait to tell Grandpa about his little adventure.

Well, I felt a little like a good Samaritan but I was even more relieved that this kid got home okay. As Ty and I were driving home from our little adventure I mentioned to Ty that I was a little surprised that this boy accepted a ride home with a perfect stranger.

Now here is the reason that I related this story. Tylor looks at me and says, "Grandma, I am not trying to be offensive, but.....you are old and kids just think that old people are harmless".

Farmgirl At Fifty

Okay, fine. farmgirl at 50 plus. Oh, all right, if you really want to be nitpicky then, farmgirl at 60 minus. I hope that makes all you sticklers for accuracy happy.

Anyway, I have recently tapped into my inner farmgirl. It all started when my daughter gave me a copy of a magazine called MaryJanesFarm. Mary Jane lives in Moscow, Idaho; the same town that my daughter lives in. According to my new friend, Mary Jane, anyone can be a farmgirl. Who knew?

In all honesty I am a "pick and choose the chores I like" kind of farmgirl. I LOVE my hens, they are pretty and they are well behaved and my three older hens lay me an egg each everyday. The other ones are still young and aren't laying yet so I excuse them, however I do encourage them everyday when I go to feed them. Someday I know I will be rewarded for my motherly concern and encouragement.

I love going out and finding the eggs in the same little corner of the coop every time. It's like Easter everyday except the eggs aren't bright and colorful and I usually have to pick feathers off and wash chicken poop off of them. It took me a while before I could bring myself to eat the nice fresh eggs that I gathered everyday. I"d scramble them up for Steve but the thought of actually eating them made me a little queasy. I mean, really, I like my eggs from the grocery store after they have traveled for days and have sat in the storage room in the back of the store. They are already clean and in a carton. There was something a little unsettling about eating a warm egg that just moments ago had chicken poop on it. I got over it!!

I got over my aversion to eating fresh eggs but still cannot bring myself to clean the chicken coop. Instead of letting my sweet hens live in a messy house I talk Steve into cleaning it for me. Men are so cute, you can talk them into just about anything; "Honey, do you think you can go out and clean the chicken coop, I'm in the middle of making those yummy chocolate chip cookies that you love, I'll take care of it next time (sure!)".

I know I will never be a true farmgirl until I don my hip waders and grab my rake and clean the coop myself (it might be awhile before I'm bona fide).

The other aspect of my inner farmgirl includes picking raspberries off of my very own raspberry bushes. Now those really are my babies. I go out every afternoon in search of raspberries that are just waiting for my novice hands to pick. I pick about a handful every time, but I refuse to eat them. I wash them and put them in a ziplock bag and someday I will have enough to make a whole jar of jam...I'm optimistic!

I also have crooked neck squash and zucchini and two whole tomatoes growing.

I am very pleased with myself, but plan on expanding my garden next year. Maybe I'll try my hand at those dreaded carrots!

Laser Light Fun

I'm thinking that perhaps I need to get a life, or at the very least find a new hobby. I am finding an enormous amount of fun in some crazy ways.
Yesterday, along with two of my grandsons, I also had the three girls for a little while. The kids and I were sitting and watching Ghost Hunters International when Tylor pulled out his laser light. Janie was just wandering around the room when Ty started pointing the light so that Janie could see it. Janie wasted no time trying to pick up the light. We giggled about that and then giggles soon turned into humongous belly laughs. Oh my goodness, I can't remember when I laughed so hard. Janie was chasing that light like a little puppy. At one point she bent down to pick it up when Ty moved it under her a little more. She bend so far, reaching under herself that she fell over. No, she didn't hurt herself, but watching her do that was hilarious!
She was also jumping, as only a two year old can try to jump, trying to get the light from the wall.
If I was a better writer and could describe this the way it really was you would be laughing now instead of thinking that I am the worst grandma in the world for laughing at her precious little two year old granddaughter. Honest, it was funny. And since our sweet Dot (our children's little dog) is no longer here we had to find someone else gullible enough to chase a light. This was America's Funniest Videos worthy.

The Good Life?

I was sitting in the front seat of a motorhome, not an RV, the kind with all the comforts of home but the kind of motorhome that other more serious RVer's look at with their snooty noses up in the air. Anyway, here we were motoring down Highway 58 towards our summer vacation in Shaver Lake. Enjoying the drive, I put down my crossword puzzle book that I had been working on and lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes.

I wasn't really thinking of anything in particular when a brilliant idea popped into my head. I don't get them that often, brilliant ideas that is, so this one made me bolt upright in my seat and I thought to myself "what a brilliant idea".

Before I let you in on my brilliant idea let me give you a little background. We go to Shaver Lake every summer and spend a week with some extended family waterskiing, riding jet skis and sitting around the shore visiting. Every year I complain that I don't really want to go. I have lots of reasons that I don't want to go but none of them are very good......so I go.

I don't really believe in camping so every year we have stayed in a lovely rental house with clean bathrooms and a kitchen and everything, well, except for one year when camping with all the dirt would have been preferable to the house we rented. Anyway, this year in an effort to save a little money (in our dreams!) we decided to borrow the father-in-laws RV. I know you might be thinking an RV, that's not really camping. Well, excuse me but if it's not permanent and involves climbing a latter to get to your bed (your bed with the ceiling 6 inches from your head) it is definitely camping!

One more thing you may need to know about me is that I have a cowardly need to please everyone.

This year is going to be different. At this moment I don't feel the need to please anyone but me. Everyone on this vacation is going to have to be responsible for pleasing themselves...I quit. No more Mr. nice guy for me.

Okay, here's the brilliant idea that came to me while driving down the highway. I am going to spend this vacation pretending that I am a character in a novel. So while I am going about my business this week if I happen to encounter some sort of problem or I'm just really bugged about something or by someone I am simply going to ask myself, what would Janet Evanovitch have Stephanie Plumb do. Well, perhaps Stephanie might be a bit much for my family to handle so maybe I'll ask myself how would Jane Austin's character respond to the situation and that's the way I will respond. I will not think about the consequence of my actions and I will take no responsibility for what I say or do this week. I will let the repercussion chips fall where they may.

I feel so free....I'll let you know how this works out for me when I get home.

I Need Help (or so says my blogitor)

I got a note from my blogitor this morning when I opened up my computer and got on to my blog. Now, I understand that some of you are on your own and have no blogitor to correct your mistakes or make suggestions to improve your blog. I would be very sorry for you if I didn't actually need a blogitor. I know I don't pay her enough because she does an excellent job for me. Well in all truthfulness, I don't pay her anything, but then she's my daughter so I don't have to, I just have to love her and I do, so there. So, I think I will post this without spellcheck or anything and see how good she really is at her job. Thank you, blogitor for all you do for me in making my blog a little more readable and if you will continue to correct, I will continue to make many more mistakes.

Disclaimer

This is my disclaimer for my last post. First of all, please realize that I am a blogging novice, a newbie, if you will. Well, I accidentally hit publish when I meant to hit preview. So, no spellcheck, sorry! And about the color of the print, ewwhh. Anyhow, sorry. I'll try not to let it happen again.

Wipeout

Do you have the Wipeout mentality? As I have said before, I am much more of an observer than a player, at least in some instances. One of these instances would absolutely be Wipeout, a hilarious game show on ABC. If you have seen the show, you will know that the people they have on as contestants are NUTS! Who the heck in their right mind would subject themselves to what amounts to be self torture.

Take this fellow, for instance, it may look like he's taking a nice little ride at some benign little waterpark. But don't let this fool you. This guy is planted face first on this moving contraption. At this moment he is probably at the hospital getting his nose put back where it belongs. Now, I have to confess that I laughed myself silly watching this guy fall on his face over and over again. I love watching these crazy people do things to themselves that in all probability will end with them in the operating room, or a body cast.

My favorite "blind date" couple of the night was Ariel and King Neptune. They didn't win, but filled my two hours with glee! I have to admit, though, that this couple (at least the male counterpart) was a tiny bit creepy. Ariel was a high school senior and although I'm not sure how old King Neptune was, he was too old!

I am just grateful that this world is filled with people who will subject themselves to endless humiliation for my entertainment!

Human Testing

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My granddaughter, Eliza, the future "animal doctor" had an ingenious (if not potentially deadly) idea this morning. Eliza was telling me that she liked rainy days at school. When I asked why she liked them she responded that it was because they got to watch movies. I asked her what movie she watched on the last rainy day and she told me it was one about animals. "What kind of animals", I ask. "Poisonous frogs", she tells me. "How do you know if they are poisonous or not", I inquire. "I don't know", says she. Well, I offer to look it up on the internet if we have time before I take her to school. She declines my offer with a "better" one of her own. "We can find a frog and watch it spit on someone and if they die we will know if it was poisonous or not".

Now, I'm not too sure if that's really a good idea but you must admit that it would probably be effective. For now I think I will just search the internet, not as dramatic as Eliza's way but it will get us results.

The Four Way Stop Hand Wave

One of my biggest driving pet peeves is that four way stop sign hand wave. You know the one. At least two of you get to the stop sign nearly the same time, but you were paying attention, you know who's turn it is to go. You got there last so you wait. But no one goes. So you wait . Still one one moves.....until that driver waves you through the intersection like he has "the power". Well, who is he ,anyway, to tell you when to go when you already know that it's his turn, not yours?



Worse yet, though, is that driver who gets to the intersection after you do. It's your turn, you know it is. But you are a safe driver you wait a second just to make sure no cars are screeching through the intersection. Still, he gives you that hand wave that says I have the power to make you go even though you already know it's your turn.



Next time I get that hand wave I'm not going anywhere. I am going to open my book and get those cookies and soda out of my grocery bag and wait for everyone else to decide who's turn it is.

Janie Loves Ice Cream

One of the really great things about being a grandma is that you can get away with a lot of stuff. Your children will forgive you for doing what you know you shouldn't do when they see how cute their children are doing that thing that you shouldn't really let them do. My new mantra is, "Well, no one got hurt".

There Really Is Such a Thing As Perfect Children

You know, it is true, there really is such a thing as perfect children. The perfectly behaved children never happen to be your own. The perfect children are almost always belong to someone else. In this case the perfect children are my grandchildren.
We have had two of our grandsons staying with us while their parents were out of town and with the exception of a few brotherly spats they got along well and did what was asked of them. They were a joy to be around.
BUT....there are a few things that I forgot that children in your care need. For instance, did you know that children expect to be fed at least 3 times a day? More likely they want to be fed all day. It's kind of like having two of those pot bellied pigs living in your house. The good thing, though, is that boys will eat almost anything, and of course, everything in their line of sight. But, not only in their line of sight, they can sniff things out like you can't believe. My selfishly hidden treats are not safe when the boys are in the house.
Here's the other thing. You have to make sure they take showers. I have nothing against showering, I do it regularly myself. But, I'm not sure I like being responsible for making sure someone else does it too.
And did you know that if you use every single lego in the house you can build a tower that reaches the ceiling? Okay, that is fun. But, apparently I was expected to keep it up as part of my decor. Those of you who know me will not be surprised when you learn that I stood it for about 30 minutes (that's a long time for me) and then I had to disassemble it. So when the boys come back into the house and see that it's gone they are naturally very disappointed. What do I do? I blame it on Grandpa, who didn't really know that it was suppose to stay up and who I haven't actually seen in the last several hours. I think he's been hiding.
Well, the frosting on the cake. Emma, Eliza and Jane came for dinner after church. Oh yes, and so did their parents. Well, guess who was the first person that Janie ran to when she came in the door. Yup, me!
And the cherry on the frosting on the cake, next month I get to go and visit our other perfect grandchildren
I am so glad that it doesn't take a perfect grandma to have perfect grandhchildren.

Rethinking the Census

Okay, I filled out and mailed the second census form that came to our house. Enough said.

Wait and See, Otherwise Known as Jury Duty

LOVE , love, love jury duty, usually. When I got my invitation in the mail to attend a gathering, I was so excited. Also attending this event would be many types of people from the far away lands of exotic Kern County.

I've told you before how much I love to snoop, watch and listen. What better place to do that than a jury waiting room (well, there is the airport, a doctors waiting room and a zillion other places where the funny and weird gather)?

I arrive early, check in and wait with childlike anticipation. I find a seat and start my watching. Imagine my disappointment when I realize that I am surrounded by a sea of normality. I change my seat, still no luck. So I sit for awhile waiting and hoping to spot someone worthy of watching and/or eavesdropping on. Still no one catches my attention.

I change seats one more time-time is on my side since I will, in all probability, be sitting in this very room until 4:00 this afternoon.

Okay, I think I've hit paydirt. Sitting at the table directly across from me is my sister-in-law. Well, not literally, but if I closed my eyes, unable to see the rotund 300 pound lady it could be my sister-in-law. She has not stopped talking, she has barely taken a breath. She even seems to be sweating from the exertion of having this one way conversation with the two women at her table.

Darn, I hate it when that little guilt devil starts poking you with his pitchfork! I'm feeling a little bad; her audience seems to have deserted her and she looked my way and smiled with a look that said, "wanna be my friend?" I smile, I smile at everyone: it's this automatic thing that my face does when someone looks at me. Then I turn my face back to the boring book I brought with me (that's a whole other story).

My lonely "sister-in-law" goes in search of a new audience. Oh, but wait, here come her old friends. They were just out at the vending machines getting food so they could fortify themselves for the next round of conversation.

No More Pessimism For Me

I don't know if my family would agree with me, but I have always seen myself as an optimist (that is if you overlook the times I run around yelling ,the sky is falling). Lately, however, my world views have expanded and pessimism began to creep in. I am probably just spending too much time watching the news.

Well, no more for me. I still plan on staying informed with things that are going on in the world and especially our country, but I will no longer be pessimistic about our countries future.

While sitting in church this morning I read a quote from Harold B. Lee, a prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The quote was printed in nice bold letters on the back of our program. This is what it said:



"Men may fail in his country, earthquakes may come, seas may
heave beyond their bounds, there may be great drought,
disaster, and hardship, but this nation founded on principles
laid down my men whom God raised up, will never fail. This is
the cradle of humanity, where life on this earth began in the
Garden of Eden. This is the place of the new Jerusalem. This is
the place that the Lord said is favored above all other nations
in all the world. This is the place where the Savior will come to
His temple. This is the favored land in all the world. Yes, I
repeat, men may fail, but this nation won't fail. I have faith in
America; you and I must have faith in America, if we understand
the gospel of Jesus Christ. We are living in a day when we must pay
heed to these challenges. I plead with you not to preach pessimism.
Preach that this is the greatest country in all the world. This is the
favored land. This is the land of our forefathers. It is the nation
that will stand despite whatever trials or crises it may have to pass
through".

So, I'm changing my ways and converting to optimism. I think life will be a whole lot more pleasant.

The Census

I'm going to be 60 years old this year. Oh my gosh, did I just say that out loud? Oh well, now that I have actually admitted it I may as well own it. With my older and wiser age I feel like I have finally come into my own. I'm feeling just a little rebellious, I don't want to do things a certain way just because people say I should. The source of my rebellion at the moment is the 2010 census.

I am not opposed to the census in theory but I will not be filling out the census form that came in our mail this week, as a matter of fact, it's already in the garbage can. What do "they" want to know about me that they don't already know, anyway? First of all, last year we were not important enough to get anything in the mail to fill out, so what changed about us this year? This year, however, we did get a form to fill out but they will not be getting any information via the mail from me. What does the government need to know, anyway, that they don't already know about me from all that intelligence they gather from those satellites that orbit over my house? I know I must sound a little paranoid and I only sort of mean it, really!

A source of my rebellion against the census is the census takers themselves. I have nothing against them personally, I am sure they are hardworking people! An information gatherer (I'm sure they have a real title) makes $15.50 an hour, plus mileage and who knows what other perks are attached. I know that many of you will say that $15.50 is fair pay for a person who has to tromp through the backwoods of wherever and go to some scary houses with scary people and it may be. I am still going to hold out until one of those census takers comes to my house to gather my information. I do feel a little bit bad because I know that it is not their fault that I am feeling disappointed by our government and this is the only way I can think of to express it. But, what the heck, they asked for the job, right?

So, come on ahead census taker, come to my house and stand on my porch and ask me all the question you want. I may or may not answer depending on what dumb things our government officials have said in the news that day.

Some of my Idaho and Washington family. Well, all except the cows, but they are cute, aren't they? The live at the University of Idaho, on the farm. Erin and I got to take a tour, fun!

Billy's Back

I was a happy TV viewer last night, Billy is back. Billy's full name is Billy the Exterminator. Billy is a man's man (well, if you have any type of unwanted varmint invading your personal space...and I don't mean an old boyfriend).

Billy and his brother, Ricky are from Louisiana and are exterminators for the family business, animal hitmen if you will. Every Wednesday night they tackle a new and exciting extermination, from bats to snakes and everything in between.

Last night they went on a call to a funeral home where they were having a little bitty problem with an extremely large and venomous rattlesnake. During a storm the night before the snake had slithered in under the door of the crematorium and was hiding in a corner. Now that would frighten any of us mere mortals to death, I was actually holding my breath and recoiling on my couch. But Billy and his slightly less brave brother handled the situation without too much screaming.

The conversation went a little like this: "Dude, that was a big one, Dude he almost bit me, Dude, that was a little scary". But, Dude, they did it. my heroes.

I know that many would call Billy, his big-haired mama, and the rest of his family rednecks. Well, I can't really deny that they are, but, boy, do I love taking a peek at their weird lives. Anyone who will travel for hours to trap and relocate a nasty little creature is welcome in my living room, via the television set, any day of the week.

So, if you happen upon unwanted varmints in your home or thereabouts call Billy, he won't let you down. He even gives the Verminators a run for their money.

Persona Non Grata

I went from being a favored grandma to persona non-grata in just one evening. My, but those little beings under the age of two (or perhaps under the age of 60) can be so fickle.

Steve and I watched three of our little granddaughters all day yesterday and into the evening. I had so much fun and I think the girls did too. Janie, who is the youngest and who has always been just a little leery of me , loved me yesterday. I was the one she wanted to be with and to hold her and yes, even to change her diaper.

I thought we had turned a new page in our short relationship (short because she isn't even two yet). So when Janie walked into church this morning with her parents and sisters I was sure she was going to reach her little arms out to me and cry for Grandma. She didn't reach her arms out, so when I did I had no doubt that she would want me, but all I heard was NO!!!!!!

Although my hopes were dashed I am not feeling totally rejected. I have four other little granddaugthers and three grandsons who seem to like me pretty much. And, thinking back a few years, Emma (who is now 9 years old) didn't like me much until she was about 4 or 5 years old. So, I'm okay. I'm pretty sure Janie will come around too, especially when she grasps the idea of bribery.

Voyeurism: A (my) Way of Life

Okay, this is a first for me. I am a blogger, how about that. I couldn't do this on my own because I am a little technically challenged, so one of my smart daughters helped me (thank goodness my girls don't take after their mother). So, the name of my blog, Life with a View, was decided upon because I'm a bit of a snoop. I love people and even more than my love for people is my love to have a look into their lives. I'm not sure when I started on my secret life of creeping into the lives the other people and getting that outside look. Don't get me wrong, I’m not a stalker and I've never done anything illegal (at least not to my knowledge). I probably should have been a realtor, and then I could have gone into strangers' houses and looked to my heart's content. I do have a little bit of an in in the voyeurism department. My husband is a painter and sometimes I help him. The only time I like to help him is when he has an inside to paint and then I can go and wander all I want, that is, of course, if the people are not home. People you don't know and some you do know frown on you just wandering around their homes oohing and aahing and, yes, criticizing their choice of furniture or, heaven forbid, wallpaper. I also happen to live up high on a mountain and right by my front door is a pair of binoculars, but we will delve further into that another time. So, my intention with this blog is to share what "I spy" up here on my mountain top and in life in general.