The Nesting...

Is starting early this time around. I have been spending too much time reading the "extreme minimalism" posts of my current favorite blog, http://unclutterer.com/ , and just a little time digging through closets and making piles of stuff to take to the thrift store (or at least to the garage.) But I do feel these spurts and they could add up if we have a few more cloudyish days like today.
For example, among my small decluttering projects of the day...pulling all the towels out of our linen cabinet (it does not qualify as a closet) and asking the question...how many towels does a house need? I guess if you're Martha Stewart you need a roomfull for your fifty close friends who show up for an impromptu pool party. But I'll be the first to admit that I don't even know fifty people, and I don't have a pool. I actually hit the web to seek out the answer to this question. Unfortunately, I couldn't find Martha's answer; but I did find one site that claims you need a minimum of two bath towels, two washcloths, two guest towels, and two fingertip towels per person, plus an extra set per bathroom or something like that. They also had important information about monogramming.
I finally decided the proper number of towels is the number that fills two shelves in the closet and piled the rest in the garage, to either pass along or save to wipe up spills. Then the question arose...how many of these such "dog towels" does a garage need? I have not researched that yet.
Just so you know, our linen cabinet now holds nine bath towels, two beach towels, five washcloths (does not include baby washcloths), and three hand towels, none of them properly monogrammed. What the heck is a guest towel or a fingertip towel, anyway? Who cares?

I just spent the week with some kooky people. They seem normal enough, they look like regular joes (most of them anyway), and you wouldn't guess it from looking at them, but these folks have a very strange habit of running one hundred miles. In a row, like in one day...actually, a day and a night.
Sometimes, when I have to be at work for more than six hours, I have this weird feeling...I'm still here. Life goes on, and I'm still doing this thing that I've been doing for hours. I love sleeping for stretches of ten or more hours, but that's the only thing I want to do for such a long period.
What blows my mind is...I'm sitting here on the couch counting the minutes until bedtime while my hubby, who ran 100 miles with a 15,000' elevation gain over the weekend, is fiddling around in the kitchen, making homemade ravioli! What blows my mind is...he's walking around like a normal person, he isn't limping or moaning or complaining. His biggest complaint (well, besides the unmentionable chafing that one is likely to experience) is that his lips are chapped.
Here are some pictures for you to look at from our trip to Tahoe...more on that later, if I get the chance...
http://picasaweb.google.com/tntpics1/2008_0721Tahoe

New obsessions

Have you noticed that overweight people are always drinking Diet Coke or not eating any carbs between binges? In the same manner, I am always dropping loads of junk off at the thrift store only to fill the empty space with more junk from another thrift store, always trying to reduce the clutter, but somehow attracting more clutter. Why is it that when you see a house with the American flag hanging in the window as a curtain, there is always a pile of old tables, empty pots and plastic toys on the front stoop? Am I junky? Should I go ahead and hang that flag, or should I clean off the porch? Why do I have a vintage red phone--yes, a rotary phone--whose ringer doesn't work? Why am I so attached to certain kitchen utensils (gadgets) that I use once a year? These questions led me to add this new link to my favorites: http://unclutterer.com/
That's one obsession. Another one I have already mentioned: that is my clothesline. I can't do anything this afternoon until I go to Bimart and get MORE clothesline and MORE clothespins!

Early July Update

We had a fun 4th. First, we spent the morning pruning, shovelling, weeding and filling our yard debris bin. Then our friend Sara came over and made us a delicious salad for lunch. Later, we headed to Betsy & Mark's house for a barbecue. Trevor lived the dream, swimming naked in the (kiddie) pool with four scantily clad ladies. Two hours after Trevor's official bedtime, we went and watched the fireworks from the OSU botany farm. They lasted all of 10 minutes. Trevor enjoyed the first few that the kids were setting off before the official show started, but he would not budge from my lap and after the first shrieking loud one, he announced "I all done." He also said "I want to sit in the car," but I pretty much ignored his discomfort and forced him to stay. He didn't seem too traumatized. I don't know what people mean by overtired, because if you just push it three hours past bedtime, it does the trick. It took him about 3 seconds to go to sleep...maybe I'll start keeping him up til 11 every night!
Just in time for the summer heat, I finally got our clothesline hung up in the backyard, and I love it! I love hanging the clothes out, I love that I'm not running the dryer, I love the stiff feeling they get, and the fresh outdoor smell.
Our yard and our house are being overtaken by box elder beatles. I heard that the only solution is to move.

Garden Dreams

I am so thankful for the garden on days like this:
We have just returned home from an eight day trip. There is nothing in the fridge but a dubious jar of tomato sauce and a whole bunch of condiments. The cupboard is bare save for a some dried grains and flour. The last thing I want to do is go to a grocery store. So I pull up a couple carrots, harvest some sugar snap peas, and send Trevor outside to snack on raspberries, strawberries and blueberries while I cook up the goods in a pot of quinoa. Only Todd can reach the precious cherries that have ripened in our absence.
Mind you, our garden is far from extravagant. My vision in spring is immense. We have Japanese eggplant, four kinds of basil, rows and rows of carrots, onions, leeks, seven different kinds of greens, not to mention lettuces, a succession of broccoli, squashes, cucumbers, yard long beans, pole beans, fat heirloom tomatoes, tomatillos, cilantro, sweet and hot peppers, potatoes, you name it...I have long pored over the seed catalogs picking just the varieties we need. Hmmm, something seems to happen when it comes time to plant. Seed packets are forgotten under piles of bills. Babies require nursing. Vegetable starts wither in their pots. Weeds choke the garlic and the leeks are forgotten.
Still, we manage to plant a few things (always tomatoes, and spinach that bolts before I can summon a taste for it.) The peas topple over the inadequate structure we've cobbled together, smothering the carrots and lettuces. The raspberries invade the beds and I don't have the heart (or can't find the gloves) to rip them out. I never stake the tomatoes and they lay rotting on the ground. We leave town. It's not hot enough, it's too hot, it's raining, it's not raining. Trevor pulls up rows of onions and eats all the green blueberries.
But, still, with a maximum of dreaming and a bare minimum of effort (why didn't I plant cucumbers, dang it?), somehow there is a harvest of something. And this undeserved bounty starts the cycle over again...if I try just a wee bit harder next year, the garden of my dreams will bloom exponentially.

We had a fun and sun-filled trip to Jackson Hole, stopping along the way to visit friends Scott, Emily and the one-year old Miles in Logan, Utah. We did some camping, some swimming, a little bit of sightseeing, a lot of driving, and almost killed Trevor in the Wallowas by cooking in triple digits. Driving through Idaho on 84, we hit a huge dust storm with sustained winds of 25 mph and 65 mph gusts. A tailwind like that really helps the gas mileage.



Our first stop was to visit the Holtmillers in Logan in their beautiful house. I have never seen such an agreeable, mellow baby. I can't figure out where those traits came from, because neither parent exhibits them to any degree (tee-hee!) Logan is very nice but you can't buy beer on Sunday. They happen to have the best, hugest aquatic center I've ever seen (okay, so I've only seen three) with an amazing panoramic view of the Wasatch mountains (I think.) On the way northeast to Jax, we stopped at the northernmost tip of Bear Lake and played on the beach for hours. The picture to the left is not Bear Lake, but a scene from much later in the trip, and I can't remember the name of that particular reservoir right now, but it was very pleasant as well.
Jackson, while Todd was cooped up in meetings (when he wasn't running up Snowking mountain), Trevor and I strolled around taking in the touristy sights. Trevor especially enjoyed the bison ("Him have wheels. Him big.") and the various bear sculptures about town. We also caught part of a rodeo. Our other fun pastime was swimming in the motel pool.
As for the long drive back, I have to say "thank you Elmo."