“Simplify, simplify, simplify, I say!” ~ Dana

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It all started with my husband and I hating our lawn. It seems like no matter what we do to it, there are big brown spots that appear on a regular basis. We’ve increased the water time, fertilized, and yet, there they are. Big brown spots.

So since we are in this record draught here in Southern California, and since our water district offers a cash incentive to those who convert at least 1,000 square feet of turf into draught tolerant landscape, we have decided to eliminate our front lawn completely, and rework our backyard to reduce the amount of turf by about half. I won’t go into how it seems un-American in my head to not have a front lawn, but that is a different issue altogether.

In the back, we decided to put in five huge, raised planter boxes that I will use for a major vegetable garden. My husband half-joked, half-seriously-asked, “You know that if you plant all these vegetables, you’re going to have to actually work outside, right?” Hardee-har-har. But wait, he’s right. It’s not the work that is making me shudder right now, but the time that I will need to find to fit it all in. Like most of us in this modern world, I feel stretched for time as it is. Between raising two daughters under the age of four, keeping our house livable, planning and cooking our meals, I have to make a concerted effort to carve out time to write for this blog, to see friends, to visit family… and to be honest with you, I feel like I fail at the “fun stuff.” Big time. So how on earth am I going to fit in time to maintain and grow a successful garden?

This had led me to evaluate what I do on a day-to-day basis. Although it feels like there is nothing that I could cut out to give me more time, when I really paid attention to my days this past week, I’ve found a very simple answer: I am going to pretend like I don’t have a smartphone. I am amazed at the amount of time that I spend checking emails, which is ridiculous because all of my emails are from other blogs or from shopping websites. There has only been one email from an actual person in my inbox this whole week. I also check Facebook like a fiend. Damn it. I can’t believe I’m admitting that, but I do. And Instagram. Oh my gosh, I need an intervention.

I started carrying my phone constantly a couple of years ago, when my dad got really sick. My excuse was that my parents “might” need to call me, there “might” be an emergency, and I wanted to be readily available. (Mom, I know you’re reading this, and I’m not blaming this on you!!) And then it became just so easy to quickly check my newsfeed, to snap a few pictures of the girls, check-in at whatever fabulous place we were spending the afternoon, and suddenly, I was hooked.

And what I notice now, is that I’m checking it constantly, which only means that it takes me longer to complete the tasks that I do during the day. The constant quick checking, I’ve found, also makes me feel kind of frantic. I am hurrying to get my chores done, but I’m also hurrying to read a funny article that someone has posted. Then I see a quiz entitled “10 Questions that will reveal your inner Disney Princess.” It’s only 10 questions, right? I can easily zip through that. So I do. But all of these little quick reads or quizzes or other wastes of time really make me feel unfocused. My attention is on a bunch of extra things, which add nothing of value to my life. I miss the days of a quiet mind, and let’s be honest. I already know that my inner Disney Princess is Belle.

So I am going to channel my inner Henry David Thoreau and “simplify!” And I’m going to grow good vegetables. Instead of wasting my precious time reading crap on the Internet, maybe I’ll finish the books I’m reading faster. Maybe I’ll get to the literature that I’ve got on using essential oils in the home. I bet you I’ll even have time to make larger quantities of all-natural products to put up on our Etsy store.

But first I’m going to have to do some reading on vegetable gardening.

Roasting

I hate the summers Inland California. Hate is a strong word, I know, but I mean it with every fiber of my being. Sometime in early June, the thermometer hits 97 and it doesn’t dip below that number for the next four months. In other places, summer lasts 75-90 days. Here: 120.

Our summer is like winter in Wisconsin or Maine. The kids cannot go outside for days at a time. We usually have at least one round of over 100 degree temps that lasts for more than 14 days. California homes are not built for this. We have no basements and I was dumb enough to make Shea buy the house without a loft. “Why on earth would we need that open empty space?” I asked him.

Short. Sighted.

Don’t even get me started on the Edison bill. Tier 5? Tier 5 is a common occurrence during July and August. At dusk, when it’s cooled down to 90 and we turn the kids loose in the streets, the moms huddle up and compare bills. We have a house fan, which helps us keep our July and August bills under $400. My neighbors either pay upwards of $600 a month or set the thermostat at 82.

The winters usually calm me down, with a few weeks of frosty, heater required weather in December and January. Not this year. This year it never got cold. Which I think explains why, for the first time since we moved here, we are seeing mosquitos and fleas. And ants. The ants are everywhere, assaulting us from the front door and the garage and up from the slab through the middle of the house and back down the staircase.

Blech.

It was 89 degrees on Halloween, 85 degrees on Thanksgiving and 80 degrees on Christmas. We got a grand total of 4.9 inches of rain. Our average is 7.6 inches. We haven’t hit the average since 2010.

It’s enough to make me want to throw my shoe at any fool who still insists that climate change is a liberal media myth.

Did I mention that I hate to be hot? More than anything? It’s why we got married at the end of November. It’s why we’re moving to Oregon. I picked the town based on the average high temps in July (89) and December (45). That’s blissful compared to the average temps here in July (100, with some days at the end of the month averaging 103) and December (69).

We’re going up there next week to look for a house. Of course, they’re having a heat wave and the temps are going to be in the 100s all week.

Sigh.

To fend off Summer Seasonal Affective Disorder, I count it down.

From July 1 to October 1 is the 90 days of summer, of which we have 79 left.

School starts in 38 days.

Halloween is in 111 days.

Our projected moving date is in 119 days.

Thanksgiving—which this year falls on our tenth wedding anniversary—is in 138 days.

And attention shoppers, there are only 166 days left until Christmas.

Yeah, I went there.

I’m telling you, it’s the only way to stay sane when it’s 103 at noon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Celebrating Midsummer ~ Dana

Here in the United States, most of us only know about Midsummer from the Shakespearean play, Midsummer Night’s Dream, but Midsummer isn’t a holiday that is celebrated by the general population. Midsummer is another name for the Summer Solstice, which is the longest day and shortest night, of the calendar year, which takes place on June 21st. Flowers and fruits are in full bloom, the earth is warm, and there is a lot of fun just waiting to be had.

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Summer, in full bloom!

 

In our modern lives, when we can have as much light as we want for as long as we want it, thanks to electricity, we have lost a bit of the “magic” that this night held for our ancestors. Imagine how glorious the longest day of the year would be if all winter, we had darkness, real darkness, around 4:00pm. No street lights, no reading lights, limited candle light… we certainly would celebrate the return of the sun into our lives, wouldn’t we!

Traditionally, all throughout Europe, Midsummer was celebrated by lighting bonfires, which represented the burning sun. Festivals included singing, dancing around a maypole, flower wreaths in girls’ hair, and bountiful feasts of the summer harvest. It was also a time for love and romance, as the month of June is named after Juno, the Roman goddess of love. In England, as evidenced in Midsummer Night’s Dream, fairies might be sighted in the magical moonlight, wreaking havoc in the love lives of mere mortals. And in Sweden, where Midsummer is still a national holiday, young women are supposed to place seven different wildflowers under their pillows. At night, their future husbands will appear to them in a dream.

So how can we celebrate this lovely time today? The best way to honor the longest day of sunshine is to get out and enjoy it!! How about a nice long day at the beach, followed up by a (legal) bonfire as the sun dips below the water? Or a pool party with a fire pit? Or picnicking in a park, picking wildflowers? Working in your garden? Attending a June wedding? Midsummer is our first day of summer, so spend the day doing whatever summer means to you! We will be enjoying the Lavender Festival at the Highland Springs Resort, a local organic farm. Then we’ll head over to my mom’s house for swimming and a bar-be-que, complete with watermelon and homemade ice cream. When I get home, I will probably light a candle rather than a bonfire to celebrate the glory of the sun, but I know that we will be kicking off a summer full of long days running in the sprinklers, trips to the beach, and sun-kissed skin as we trundle off to bed.

Reblog: The Big 9-3 ~ Dana

Good Morning!

Last year I posted a blog about my sweet Grandma Betty, on her 92nd birthday.  Today is her 93rd!  Her story is worth retelling.  Today, my mom, Uncle Gary (of Rescue Task Force), the girls and I will take lunch to her at her home, have some cake, and celebrate her 93 years.  Here, again, is a tribute to this amazing lady whom I am so blessed to have in my life as my grandmother, cheerleader, and friend.

When I was growing up, I always thought that Grandma Betty and Grandpa Art were just the coolest people on Earth. And really, looking back, it’s pretty much true. Whenever they picked me up from school, I knew there would be awesome snacks and lots of playing in my afternoon. And by awesome snacks, I mean root beer floats, and by playing I mean ping-pong, smashball, or badminton in the back yard. One year they took me up to Calico Ghost Town over Memorial Day Weekend. When I was about twelve, they bought the grandkids bikes to keep at the house, so when I came over we could go for rides to the market or around the neighborhood. And we made countless trips in their motor home to Palm Springs, to Carson City, Nevada, to visit family, and to Newport Beach. They made 60 the new 40. Actually, they made 60 the new 30, since I’m almost 40 and can’t imagine doing all the things that they did!

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Betty grew up on a farm in Iowa, but relocated to California following her fiancé, who was stationed here during World War II. He was deployed before she arrived, but she stayed in Long Beach, working an overnight shift at McDonald Douglas Aircraft throughout the war. After the war, she married my grandfather, had two kids, and moved out to San Bernardino, California, where she has lived ever since.

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When her kids were little, she was a single mother, and sacrificed like you can’t believe just so her children would have food to eat. What has always stayed with her is her positive, spunky attitude, as my mom has often said that Grandma Betty made her childhood so good, she and her brother didn’t even realize that they were poor.

Today, this sweet little woman turns 93. And I am so grateful to have her in my life. I am so grateful that she has gotten to meet my girls. I love that they play in the same backyard that I did, with the same toys that I did, and they sit on the same patio, laughing and giggling with the same Grandma.

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Grandma Betty’s mother, my Nana, lived to be 105 before she died in 1997. So on Mother’s Day last year, I told Grandma Betty that she still has 13 years to go… to which she replied “Oh no! Not that! I’m ready now! Jesus take me home!” And that truly is the defining characteristic of Grandma Betty: her unfailing faith in and love for her Savior, Jesus Christ. She tells anyone who will listen how Jesus has blessed her and blesses her still. She prays without ceasing, and I know it is those prayers that have sustained me during some difficult times in my life. But it is truly us, her children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren who are blessed beyond measure to have this wonderful woman’s love in our lives.

Happy Birthday, Grandma Betty. We love you forever!

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Tra-La! It’s May! ~Dana

Whether you called it May Day, Beltane, Walpurgisnacht, Flores de Mayo, or simply another Thursday, yesterday was the first of May! When I was a child, I remember making May Day baskets at school to give to friends or neighbors when we got home. The tradition was to place the basket on the front porch, ring the doorbell, then run away. In other parts of the world, the first of May is a lovely spring celebration, complete with maypoles, folk music, dancing, and the crowing of a May Queen.  Why don’t I live in a place like that??

Whatever your beliefs, and wherever you are, we’d like to take this chance to wish you a happy May! It’s been such a tough winter for our friends and family back East and in Canada, and those of you in the Midwest and South are still struggling with some nasty weather. But we hope that sometime this weekend you’ll take time to honor this glorious season. Get out and go for a walk, soaking up some vitamin D. Plant some flowers, even if it’s just one pot with a little marigold. My girls and I planted sunflowers today against our back fence, and I look forward to sharing them with you when they’re in their full 10-foot-tall glory!  The sunflowers, not the girls.

And my favorite way of celebrating May is listening to the song, “Tra-La, It’s May!” from Learner and Lowe’s Camelot. Here’s a link to the video, in case you aren’t familiar. This song is especially fun. I’ll leave you with just a taste of the lyrics:

It’s May! It’s May! The lusty month of May,
That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray!
It’s here! It’s here! That shocking time of year,
When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear!

Happy May, everyone!

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My little May Queen, hamming it up.