Because good friends tell each other if they have spinach in their teeth

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What can I say? We lived in the country, you had to invent your own fun

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Back off! I have a price gun and I'm not afraid to use it

I have myself a little job.

Hehe.

Yup, a little job that provides me with a chance to connect with the people in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood, in my neighborhoooooood!

It's at the Ye Olde Bargain Basement. It's a quaint little store that has oodles of ...well, bargains and I work with a colourful cast of women who have been working there since the town was established. Ok, not that long, but they have been working there for a long time and they all know each other really well. They have a little family unit going and I am the new member. The "baby" so to speak.

It's a great little hobby, as I call it. I get to stack the shelves and it fulfills all those anal, control freak tendencies that come from cleaning your house throughout the day only to find that you need to start cleaning the house again. I think that has something to do with living with other people.

Anyway, I get my fix by straightening the shelves and unloading new product.

And here is where it gets really fascinating: where I put the product...it stays. It stays! It stays in that spot. It's amazing. I have yet to find the beauty products in the shoe section. No one moves the product on me. It's my own little piece of heaven on earth. What I clean up stays cleaned up. What bliss! What joy!

(Do you see why getting out the house once a week will be a good investment for my mental health?)

It is all about the mulch

See this pile?

This is a beautiful thing. This is from my community compost pile.

Did you catch that? My community compost pile. And this is only the wood chips, my friends. There are 4 other mounds of composted raw materials that are now dirt and another hill of grass clippings.

Have I mentioned that I love small town living? Small town let's-work-together-so-everyone-can-have-amazing-gardens living.

I love my little town.

Is there a jail for unwritten etiquette lawbreakers?

I broke code among women yesterday.

You know, the unwritten beauty,weight, tell your female comrade when she has something in her teeth code.

I broke it. Unwittingly, of course. But, still I broke it.

I saw someone at church who I hadn't seen since June. We usually attend a later church service and this week we attended the earlier one. She was there and I was so glad to see her. She looked radiant, round and ready for the maternity clothes stage of the game.

I gave her a big hug and asked her how she was feeling.

"Oh, much better," she assured me.

"Sounds like you're over the worst of it."

"Oh, I am."

"That's great. How many months are you again? Four or five?"

The colour left her face.

Uh-oh.

"I'm not pregnant."

The colour left my face.

Some serious unwritten women protocol had just been breached.

Uh-oh.

Everything I do (I do it for you)

"Mom, why are you making those snacks?"

"Because," I answered my soon-to-be-seven-year-old, "I want Daddy's day off to be super special. And he likes these."

I mentally added that these would also silence any cries of 'I'm hungry' on our 2 hour car trip and would save us money in the long run.

But then I got thinking, those are also reasons that I am doing this for him. He works hard, my man does. And on his day off when we are spending it the way he likes to spend it most--in the mountains--he deserves to not hear any whines or cries...or have to spend any money on sugary snacks from Mac's.

And suddenly the song Everything I Do (I do it for You) by Bryan Adams came into my head. You know, the one from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Come on, it wasn't that long ago.

Anyway, I thought about the lyrics, "I'd fight for you, I'd die for you." Yep, that's my man. "You know it's true...everything I do...I do it for you."

Yes, I do know it, Bryan Adams...or maybe Robert "Mutt" Lange...whoever wrote it. I do know it's true. Especially when I clean the toilets or make the bed each morning.

Fast forward half an hour and a lost pair of shoes later, I yell...(cough, I mean)...gently sing-song my children into the car and buckle them in all nice and snugly.

I come back into the house and look at my man.

"I need a hug."

I go to my safe place in his big, strong arms and lay my head against his chest until I relax and all the madness of trying to get ready for an enjoyable day leaves my body. I decide to have a good attitude. For him. He needs a relaxing day off, not a nagging wife.

Everything I do (I do it for you).

Ten minutes later we settle into the van and my man and I promise each other that today we leave our life and all the bills, undone jobs and laundry at the house and we're not going to whine (me) or complain (him). We are going to enjoy each other.

Heading out of town my husband decides to fill the van up with gas. We go to pull in but there's a biker dude parked in the side that we need for our gas tank. So my husband pulls around.

It's advertised as a Full Service station so I offer my husband a snack while I get to the business of eating my lunch--spaghetti with black bean salsa. (Hey, I can only prep ahead so much and some times you gotta eat on the run).

The advertised service man is slow to come.

We notice that the biker dude with his BMW bike and beautiful blonde girlfriend are waiting for the service attendant, as well. I exchange a quick look with him as I open my spaghetti. He looks cool with his black leather jacket around his neck in that James Dean, rock-n-roll sort of way.

I swirl my spaghetti with my fork, thinking, "He really has that James Dean cool guy look down."

I take a bite and my eyes meet his steely, steady gaze.

No word of a lie.

It.

Is.

Bryan.

Adams.

Bryan. Adams.

And I have spaghetti hanging out of my mouth.

Out.Of. My. Mouth.

Spaghetti that I made so that my husband wouldn't have to spend his hard earned money on a lunch that we had to spend time wasting ordering because I hadn't prepared enough to cook ahead.

Spaghetti that I made, may I remind you, to save him time and money.

Because everything I do ....well, you know!

Be warned, Grandma...high expectations here

A and I were eating lunch and she was getting goofy.

"You need to calm down," I said.

"Will you tell that to my children too?" A asks.

"Yes, of course. I'm going to be an awesome Grandma."

"Awesome?"

"Yes."

A thinks for a bit. "Ok, but you're going to need to eyes that shoot lasers because that's awesome."

I've got a few years to work on that, should be doable.

Honeyed words

My son said, "Mama"

The beginning of many, many wonderful statements.

"Mommy! Come here."

"Mo-om, I'm hungry!"

"Mooooooooom" (followed by me chewing on my heart as I run to see if there's blood)

"Mom." Said with rolling eyes and effort as he will pick up his coat off the floor.

"Mmmoomm" The call that requests my presence when feeling sad.

"Mommmmm," said with pleading eyes for the skateboard that I don't want him to go on unless he wears a full body pillow suit that will protect him from hurting himself.

He says it over and over right now. Each time as though it were a fresh discovery.

His eyes lit up and mine do, too.

Mom.

It's my favourite word. And apparently, right now, it's his too.

Stuck in the middle

I'm learning to mind my own business.

It's not easy though. I like to fix things. Fix people.

So, instead I sit and listen. I put the brakes on when it crosses the line from a woman verbally thinking out loud to dumping manure on my spirit for the depth of hurt emotion they have.

I've gotten good at saying, "Hmmm..." and "Have you told them that?"

I wonder if this is preparation for when my children are in their teen years?

Here's what I've learned from keeping my nose out of it: I pray a whole lot more.

Sounds like something I should have been doing all along.

Planting, Weeding, and digging in the dirt

Yeah! I have almost planted my whole garden!!!

We received a package of seeds from Grandma, so my girls are anxious to start planting what we're calling Grandma's garden.

Weeding--right now I am camped out in the book of Ephesians in the Bible and I am loving how God is pruning my life with this book. Thanks Jesus. The truth sets me free

Digging in the dirt and unearthing all of the dreams that have gotten dusty...you know, all the simple ones that make life worth living. Watch for our Summer List coming soon.