This poor old blog. I actually really miss it. I'm not sure where to start so I'm just going to upload some pictures and go from there and try to do a little catch up.
Okay, so here was one of our many summer highlights. This was our second annual "Farm Camp". We had cousins visiting from Connecticut, some from Salt Lake, and second cousins from down the street. We started by taking our duck Kiko on a walk around the block, dressed up in the Independence Day Get-Up from Gwendolyn (may she rest in peace). I had this little guy trained up to follow me really well, then he went out back and got hormones and started annoying the female ducks.
We then proceeded to get individual photos with the duck. Notice how his lengthy Indian Runner Neck is swayed to the ground (get me out of here?) so it looks like sweet little mutts holding a dead duck.
Not Pictured: Homemade Cheese by The Mister of the House, Psychedelic Fruit Leather, Front Porch Fairy Garden, Under-Rabbit Worm Farm, Homemade Rabbit treats, and stuff and stuff.
The eternal laws of porch loving requires me to sustain a resin goose as the keeper of my gate. It gives me common ground with the grannies. Here's Gwendolyn's view recently:
Wouldn't you know that I finally got rid of my winter wreath upon donning Gwendolyn in her Easter threads. I jinxed the valley into getting a six inch dump of snow on Easter Weekend. Sorry everybody!
There is our recent baby step into better health. Fresh delivery of milk from a local dairy whose cows are hormone-free! Since we only drink about 2 gallons a week, we could afford this luxury.
The milk costs about double what it does in the store. That means you'll find Mrs. Olsen gently placing quarter-filled cups back in the fridge. It also means my daughter, who is on the verge of teendom in 4 short years, won't get any hormone help in the moody, crabby, or mustache department.
Hmmm...maybe it's time to get rid of my winter wreath. Ya think? Yesterday we looked pinch perfect (not the same as looking perfect for a pinch). We were seeing green in more than just textiles. Try lawns as well (wahoo). And bathrooms.
Vanilla Wafer came home from school and explained to mom & dad all about leprechauns, rainbows, gold, and treats. So we asked for a recap with the video camera, and got an extra "treat" when baby brother heard the "word for the every day of his life".
Remember the movie UP. I'm Charles Muntz and it's such a....[pause]delight to have you over for dinner.
Lastly, in a movie only a Grandmother could finish, here's our St. Patty's day in 2010.
Over Christmas I sold some movies to a friend's of a friend's mom. Cute lady. In her 50's. Something like 9 kids and already a Grandma. As we made our transaction she giggled that: I have that same goose on my porch. We must be women with the same taste!
I didn't want to say, don't I seem a little young though? or Actually, I'm just obeying the eternal law of manifesting your love of porches through a resin goose and I hate-love it. Oh, and her name is Gwendolyn and she's getting some custom-made goods pretty soon. Tee hee hee.
I didn't want to say that. So I just smiled. I'm in denial I guess. Today, I dressed up the offspring to look like the porch goose and took a couple of pictures. Look at Buddha Baby's weird grown-up smile! Isn't he cute?
Dang Valentine's outfits are only included in the upgraded wardrobe plan from Granny Shop. I'm not that desperate at least. We will bide our time with a scarf and cap thankyouverymuch.
When I confessed to the world that I owned a cheap resin goose, that she had been mended a few times despite my hollow protestations of cheesiness (and set back on the porch), and that she had different outfits to match holidays, seasons, and inklings....well, you said you would make her a new outfit. I even asked if you were for real. Paula, would you really make Gwendolyn a new outfit?, I asked. That would be so cool! I then exclaimed. Just so you know, Gwendolyn the Goose has a Santa outfit, so she's covered for the Holidays. She's been diligent to watch over well-wishers, holiday deliverers, and even punk toddlers that fake cry to get attention. She's been good to us, and was happy for the extra facial hair during last week's below zero madness. I told her that you accidentally taught your toddler swear words while sewing 3 homemade bridesmaids dresses that were shiny with satin and a layer of tulle.
I explained that it was because of a deadline and were stressed, but that you really had mad sewing skills. So as long as your little buddy doesn't learn any new swear words during this upcoming creativity dive, she's much obliged.
Gwendolyn is one stacked lady! Here's her measurements:
Floor to the top of her head: 19 inches
Base of her neck (where her santa suit hits): 12 inches
When I was 21, I left the desert west (my home) and wore a dress for 18 months straight for the Lord. I was a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in hot, jungly, muggly Florida. When I read "Florida" was to be my intended Zion, the only image I had in my mind was Southern California (the western equivalent right?). I imagined beach bums, bleached joggers, health nuts, and short shorts. What I soon learned was that Florida, at least northern Florida, was not reminiscent of any Beach Boys tunes. It was technically "The South". As in Live Oak Trees with their own gravitational pull with their pretend branches in reality tree trunks glued sideways into its totem. Spanish Moss drips from their limbs like the syrupy southern accents oozing off the tongues of Southern Belles, Baptists, Evangelists, Racists, Pentecostals, and barbecue-ers.
Oh and I loved it.
While I wanted to go "foreign" as they say (meaning: send me to an exotic country that will force me to learn another language and build in 15 language credits when I come back to college) I soon reveled in another planet with plantation homes, invitations for fried chicken and church revivals, prayers in parking lots and speaking in tongues. And much of this revolved around porches. Rockers on porches, plants in pretty pots, sweeping views of Live Oak, and outdoor rooms screened in complete with beds for summer sleep-outs safe from biting bugs but in tune with the crickets.
Mrs. Olsen loves porches. Like this one:
My current porch is nothing like this. Darnit. But I will admit, in my own small efforts, I like to add a little piece of furniture to make my lame non-wrap-around porch feel like a room.
This little piece with wings was reclaimed by the newlywed Mrs. Olsen. Childless and optimistic, she scraped five layers of paint off of it, put on a mosaic top, and painted it the official wedding reception color of the 90's: forest green.
Since some of the tile is green, I could have pulled it off alright were it not for those cheesy oversized wood knobs. I didn't even have forest green at my 90's wedding, but evidently it rubbed off on me. At least I don't have forest green carpet.
As luck would have it, it matches my porch railing to my home. Coincidentally, my home was built one year before I was married. Come and sit for a spell.
Somehow a porch, even when you don't sit for a spell, makes the front door more friendly and appealing.
Here we come, straight for the door. Gotta hurry. No time for chat. Gotta get back ho...ho...hold the phone!
Yes that's a goose. And now my invitation: please love me.
I'm thirty-four people. And yes, I bought this resin goose from an old ladies catalog. I was alone late at night at a computer, and I had just had a baby. My hormones were whack, and I wanted to celebrate the holidays without having to lug around an oversized rubbermaid for every holiday.
Somehow, nothing says porch love like a goose. Above is Gwendolyn in her Halloween attire. Below is how you can behold her current glory.
This I know: resin geese with clothes are for grannies.
And yet, as a testament to my eternal love of porches, my unmet desires for slower living, lazy chatting, and outdoor living, Gwendolyn remains...despite a broken leg twice (and mended), chipped tummy, and cracking paint.
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