Where's mama going with that hoe?

It was kind of cool and rainy this morning, which meant my garden MIGHT get a chance at life.  I went out to weed, thin the corn, mulch what I could get clear.  There's some sort of weed in my garden...I don't know WHAT it is, but if it was a plant we could eat, the Extension Service would be at my door, begging for my secret.  Lily came out to join me once she woke up.  She wanted to help weed, of course, but wanted to be RIGHT where I was.  I thought she might enjoy picking which corn plant was the biggest in each grouping, to help thin the row.  I showed her what I was doing.  I stumbled into a poor choice of words. "These are the baby corn plants that I'm throwing out."  stupid, stupid, stupid.  To her, I was choosing the least viable twin to abort.  "You're going to just frow them OUT?  Dere's nuffing wrong wis dem?  You're just frowing dem out?  Dey're not weeds?"  um...So I showed her where she could transplant the little rejects, the little angel corns.  What passes for cruelty in a vegetarian household.

Kudos to my Imaginary Friend, Amy for her Gardener's Soap. I was all kinds of filthy when I came inside and her soap scrubbed me back to White Woman in no time.  It's full of little seeds and oh, so scrubby.  Like having a dour German with a scrub brush right there in the shower with you.    As a side note--Ben brought that soap into the room last night and said, "Mom.  LOOK at this soap.  It's full of bugs."

"Honey, those are seeds, not bugs."

"Mom, this is a bug leg!"

"They are SEEDS.  Geez."

"Bug leg.  Right here."

"Oh, good lord, " I take the soap, "see, it's just seed...oh, that IS a bug leg.  but other than that, seeds."

Of course, there are pictures.  Of Lily in the garden, not me and the German in the shower.




she spotted Tiger Lilies and knew a photo op when she saw it...

So much for all that free time...

I was supposed to do all this catching up, wasn't I?  Crap.  Turns out, I tend to just go to bed.  Steve dowloaded the latest season of House for me to watch while he was in Korea and I haven't watched ANY of them.  By the time I've gotten everyone to bed, I can just barely read my email and then I'm out.

Okay, before I forget, I had Lily cuteness I wanted to write down...  We were in the car and she said, "Mommy?  Do girls have boyfriends?"  "Well, some of them do..."  "August (kid down the street) is my boyfriend."  "Yes, August is a boy and he's your friend!"  "Mommy. (said with ultimate patience) He's my boyfriend."  Ah.

We passed a bridal shop and Lily was admiring the fancy dresses.  There was a flower girl's dress which prompted a "Oh LOOK!  a little one!"  So I told her about flower girls and how Julianna had been a flower girl for Aunt Stacey and Uncle John (I felt it best not to bring up Uncle Brent and She Who Must Not Be Named).  "Can I do that?"  I told her that we were fresh out of upcoming weddings (can't tell her that the cute will wear off soon and no one will want her throwing flowers anymore).  Barely a moment passed before she told me "Corn, who lives in California--which is far, but not as far as Korea--her mom and dad are having a wedding and I'm going to be the flowergirl."  "Wow, that sounds fun."  "So can I go?"  "Hm?"  "Can I go?  To California."  "Uh, well, since Corn is pretend, I think you can pretend to go."  "NOOO!  She's REAALLL!" "Uh...er...okay...um, well then, we'll need to talk about it I guess."  Then she whispers "I'm just pretending I think it's real" and then back to full volume: "I want to go FOR REAL!"  Mommy is just not together enough to follow stuff that's this complicated.  Cut me some slack, Jack.  Corn's parents, by the way?  They are named Corn and Mr. Jerry.  No real surprise that they live in Californina.  Steve said, "Corn, Corn, and Mr. Jerry?  I think I saw them at the Filmore." and Lily said, in her long suffering, child of doofus parents way, "No Daddy, I do not have any film."

Dance Recital

Cute Overload.com can kiss my ass.  There is nothing cuter than 3 and 4 year old girls, in tutus, on stage.  I mean, we KNEW Lily was cute.  But who expected kids in whom we had no genetic stake to be so adorable?  Honestly, they should have had ambulances outside the theater as a precaution for the aneurisms one could get just from the sheer power of the cute.

I'd thought it was sheer genius that the girls in Lily's class didn't have to memorize anything b/c part of their dance was that a Big Ballerina would be dancing with them and they just had to imitate her.  Turns out that was the way most of the little kid dances went.  I'd thought it was to help the kids know what to do.  Now I'm pretty sure it was so that the audience would be assured that there HAD been some sort of dance planned.  That they didn't just costume a bunch of preschoolers and turn them loose on stage.  Not that there was a problem with that, because the inevitable girl who just stands and waves, the one that does her own dance to the music in her head, the one that explores the stage...they just make it cuter.  5 year olds in tap shoes waving flags to "She's a Grand Old Flag?"  Sounds cliched and sacchrine.  But no, no...Steve and I are ordinarily Statler and Waldorf, crusty, cranky, immune to cute.  Not today, Zurg.   I wanted to scoop them all up and kiss them and feed them cookies.

Lily was, of course, adorable.  In her dance, the girls all hold hands in a circle and come together and pull the circle open a few times.  Lily draaaggged them all in and whipped them all out.  Enthusiastic.  The little girl beside her stood stock still for the first minute.  Didn't move a muscle until the Big Ballerina came and moved her. 

I could see that Julianna really wished she was in on it.  I need to get her into something next fall.  Once I post those Fairy Festival pics, you'll see what I mean.  And now that Steve's in Korea for a week, I'll be just sitting here, pining and posting.

Showdogs and Showmoms

Oh, such a day.  Today was the first 4-H dog show for Julianna and Fredo.  Unfortunately, Fredo had been at the kennel from Thursday afternoon until 8:30 this morning.  He was not, as Cesar Millan would say, "calm submissive."  He was more..."spastic nerfbag."  Like, release a man from prison and send him straight to a cotillion.  "Woo-hoo!  It's Julianna!  Hey! Mulch!  Omigod!  Dogs!  I LOVE dogs! oh, oh!  mulch! Yipee!" 

When we arrived at the fairgrounds, the other girls (for they are all girls) were grooming their dogs.  One teenager with a cocker spaniel had the full grooming table with hair dryer stand.  She was hard-core.  Once she had the ears just so, she put these orange wrappers on them so that the dog looked like it had carrots for ears.  There was a Sussex Spaniel trotting around with a head scarf on to protect her ear job. She looked like a turn of the century polish immigrant (turn to the 20th.  Not from.) Everyone was grooming, stroking, polishing.  Julianna appeared to be hauling in a marlin. 

Her first event was "Fitting and Showing," for which she's been attending practice on Sundays.  She's learned the patterns of the ring and how to "stack" the dog and so forth.  Fredo has gotten better, but the ring is not in his blood.  I keep telling her that even if he was the best show dog on earth (cough), he's not going to take Westminster.  He's a mutt.  Furthermore, he's a spaz.  We'd thought there'd only be one other kid in the event, Bridget.  She's been coming to practices too and we don't like her or her mom.  Her dog's okay.  Mini dachshund, mostly useless.  When the kids are practicing, the mom natters on and on about all the lessons and things Bridget is in.  I doubt the child has a moment to herself.  She's awkward and annoying.  I'm sure I should feel pity, but...meh.  I don't like her.  Anyway, turns out the Sussex Spaniel in the headscarf is showing under two handlers, one of whom is a first time-junior, too.  The dog is clearly a show ring veteran and about 800 years old.

They entered the ring, first Bridget and Libby, then New Girl and Old Dog, then Julianna and Fredo.  If I didn't know it was killing her, I'd have found it hilarious.  ADHD dog hits the ring.  Like any parent with a "spirited" child, I"m sure it just shows how much smarter he is.  He has more interesting things to do that trot in a triangle pattern and look pretty.  Honestly, I'm just glad he didn't bite the judge or crap in the ring.  Julianna was just in tears by the end.  Absolutely sobbing.  Bridget offered, "When MY dog messes up, I don't get upset."  I glanced at her and snarled "Thanks, Nellie."   I probably should have been the grown up.  Julianna's third place ribbon was just soaked.
Julianna, trying in vain to "stack" Fredo:


To Julianna's credit, she still wanted to do the obedience event, and Fredo did much better.  He didn't manage a settle (no real shocker), but he did a good sit stay, which was enough to kick Libby's butt.  Take THAT!  Second place.
Here she is going into the obedience ring behind that win-ny pants spaniel:


We had to light out of there and head off to get Lily to her dress rehersal for tomorrow's dance recital.  She takes lessons at the Y, but apparently they have one of the best dance programs in the area, so the recital is a Big Deal.  Not at the 3 and 4 year old level of course.  We expect them to do little more than tiptoe around and pick their noses on stage.  But there are so many classes that there are two acts for the little kids and a full evening program for the teens.  And it's held at the old theater downtown. A shindig, it is.  And, as one might expect, it was screaming yellow chaos.

It has always seemed to me, that in such situations, the thing to do is be patient and kind and smile at everyone with a "boy this is nuts!" look and go for a "we're all in this together" vibe.  Not everyone shares this philosophy it seems.  Many of the moms were quite nasty.  There were "dance bears" to be had--cheap teddy bears dressed in crappy costumes.  Each was different, and thus some must be better than others.  The Filene's Basement sale grabbiness was appalling (as an aside, if you pronouce it as Fellini's Basement, you can amuse yourself.  But no one else, oddly).  Then, when Lily's group FINALLY wenton (an hour late), I wanted to get closer to videotape it.  I went to sit in an empty seat in the front row.  A girl said, "That's my mom's seat."  I smiled and said, "I just want to tape this bit.  My daughter is in it.  Then I'll scoot."  The mom then showed up and said, "that's my SEAT." in a tone one might use for "That's my HUSBAND."  I smiled and explained to her and she repeated, "That's my SEAT."  ooookay.  lordy.  As it happens, I think I taped with no tape in the recorder.  d'oh.  But loook:

Stupid cow was just jealous that I have the cutest girl there.  So neener neener.