Thursday, June 25, 2009

Big, Scary Man

This morning, I was working in the kitchen making lunch for Luke and my friend's little boy, Coy. Soon, I was startled by a hard pounding on our back door that leads to the deck. I froze. Of course, Luke and Coy go to the door and stare at the big, burly man who was staring back at them. I whispered, but was demanding at the same time, "Luke, Coy, GET OVER HERE NOW!"
Why does this stuff always happen to me? While living in Lincoln, I had a gal ring my doorbell at midnight and asked for Herb. Herb who? She was obviously not "all there." Bill was gone doing his annual fireworks job.
Then, a couple of years ago, our neighbors here in town had a transient living in their garage (I know, weird). One fall morning, I walked into the kitchen in my robe to get a cup of coffee and who was standing there at the door? You bet, that man. Of course! Why wouldn't he be standing there?
Anyways, today, a tall man wearing a black sleeveless shirt with his long white hair pulled back into a pony tale rapped on the door...and wouldn't leave. The kids just stared at him. I panicked. He finally turned away to leave, walked back to our shed and continued to stare at the shed. Then, Luke and Coy go to the back window and start pounding on the door, waving at the man. The man waves at the kids, gives a creepy smile and walks back to the house and continues to pound on the door.
I immediately freaked out, called Bill, who in turn called the police. Keep in mind that Bill has the sheriff's personal cell phone number because they work together a lot during the school year. The sheriff was here in a matter of minutes and of course, I look like a fool because the guy is gone. I do feel comforted, however because the sheriff said to me, "Don't you worry. Wherever he is, I'll find him." What a relief.
Bill called back to make sure everything was OK and told me, "You know, our neighbor said that his dad may be over to see what it would take to put a new foundation on the shed."
Great, Bill. Something you could've told me BEFORE I freaked out, called the cops and look like a total fool.
Turns out, it was our neighbor's dad. Regardless, he shouldn't have been knocking on the door, as far as I'm concerned.
How creepy.
Later, while we were eating lunch, I decided to use the situation as a lesson for Luke. I began to teach him how we don't answer the doors for strangers. Then, Luke said, "Are you talked about that guy that had really pointy teeth?" I guess I was.

Monday, June 22, 2009

I Feel Swedish

Last Friday evening, we traveled over to Stromsburg for the annual Swedish Festival. We've been living in Polk county for 3 years now, and this was our first festival. We were Swede Festival newbies, if you will.
Something about the whole experience gave me a burning desire to be Swedish. I mean, a downright pure Swede. I am a mutt, if you will. A little German (this explains my self-diagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder), a little English (which explains why I can talk in a British accent so fluently), and a little Cherokee Indian (this explains why I have auburn-colored hair). Many of you are wondering if the Cherokee thing is true and to all of you I ask this question..."How could I lie about something like that?"
Anyway, we had a great time at the festival. My intention was to document all of our "stops", but as I look back through the pictures, I think I left out a few detours.

Here is a little synopsis of our trip:
Pit-Stop 1: The Squ.are Cup for smoothies. Nice and refreshing on a hot day!

Pit-Stop 2: Train ride for Luke and echoes of Bill grumbling under his breath that it cost him $4 for Luke to ride.

Pit-Stop 3: Rus.ty the Clo.wn and Luke's first sword balloon. Luke was very into Rusty, but only from about 10 feet away (if only knew that Rusty was one of his His Kids teachers at church! HA!)

Pit-Stop 4: Dinner. Grilled chicken, baked beans and coleslaw. Yummo. No picture for this one. It must have something to do with being a mom trying to get everyone fed.

Pit-Stop 5: Swedish dancers. So cute and the accompanied accordion music topped it off!

Pit-Stop 6: Dessert. How can you not order a funnel cake when you attend festivals?

And now, you can sum it up by humming the following song in your head (to the tune of "12 Days of Christ.mas".

On the Friday night of Swedish Festival, old Stromsburg gave to me:
12 Swedish Dancers
11 sips of smoothie
10 minutes of accordion
9 funny clown tricks
8 tickets for train rides
7 bites of funnel cake
6 pieces of chicken
5 trips to the porta-potty
4 dollars left
3 scary carnival rides
2 joyful parents
And a van with some tired kids

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Here I Come to Save the Day!

OK, OK, OK...I am back. I really don't know what my problem has been the last couple of weeks. It seems as if every time I sit down to blog, someone's crying, the laundry is calling or I just get plain old distracted.

Do you ever tell yourself, "Once such-and-such is over, I will be able to relax"? Is there really ever a time when you get to relax? It's just the same old busyness, just a different kind of busyness. I was so looking forward to summer because things would slow down. Actually, life has been completely opposite.
We tend to spend a lot more time outdoors. I coach a softball teams that has games three nights out of the week. I'm really busy with Premier shows in June. The list could go on and on! I do enjoy it, though, as it is a much-needed change of pace.

Anyway, I must tell you about my freak-out session I had earlier this evening. Let me set the tone for the story: We have a huge yard. As a matter of fact, our house sits on three lots. I definitely love having all of the space, but at times it is just too much of a yard for us to keep up with. We have a wonderful spot for a nice-size garden, but it's almost too big and weeds just grow like gang-busters out there (not to mention the lovely snakes that love the weeds). The fruit trees are handy, but very high maintenance, and the play area is hard to mow around.

Our family has been gone a few days visiting Bill's mom, so we knew we would be coming home to a lawn that would desperately need to be mowed. So, like always, I got out the push mower and Bill the rider. While pushing, I saw three snakes and a huge toad (I am terrified of reptiles and amphibians of any kind). It was a jungle out there. I could have worn my loin cloth and beat my chest while bellowing and fit in just perfect.

Then, I couldn't get the push mower around the new swing set. Frustration set in. I felt overwhelmed. Deep down, I knew my basis for getting upset. Bill is beginning his annual fireworks job on Sunday. He has done this every year for nearly 5 years. While it is good money, the warehouse is in Ashland and instead of driving back and forth, he stays with a friend's in-laws who happen to live within a few miles of the warehouse. I am thankful for the extra money that Bill earns, but it is 20 days of life without him for me.

How am I supposed to do it all? How am I supposed to keep up the house, take care of the kids, and do the lawn? I'll get through it. I always do.
It's nothing that a little chocolate and ice cream can't mend.
Ho all had better check in on me from time to time over the next few weeks. My sanity is at stake here. And, as for blogging, I hope to move onto brighter topics because I am getting over it...really, I am.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Still here

I am still here, but I have been undeniably busy. I will make my triumphant return soon.