Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Meant to be...yup.

Ain't she a beauty!
Do you want to hear something that I think is cool?  No.  Well I am gonna tell you anyways.  When we bought our house exactly one year ago, I knew that there was crap stuff that was going to get left in the 3 out buildings that are on the property.  Out buildings is simply a nice term for shack or chicken coop--although one of them was a large barn, so that was nice.  And when we got done signing our next 30 years away and shaking the hands of the previous owners, whom I should have given a swift kick in the rear end, we went back to our new home and began the process of digging though 100 years of back yard shack crap.  I mean there is easily a 18 wheeler load of junk in and UNDER these buildings.  Old boards, gardening pots, ancient shipping crates, coffee cans full of bolts, nuts, and nails, the list is endless.  Most of it is just what I said-junk.  Not to say that there haven't been a few good finds, but nothing worthy of a trip to the Antiques Road Show.  Most of it is just going to be a hassle to get rid of.

Well here's the story...In the basement, yes that disgusting, musty, soaking wet, horrible bane of my existence basement, there was a BIG old soapstone sink.  I just thought it was a ugly old wash/slop sink that we would have to somehow lug out from the dungeon.  So when I think that I can get someone else to do something for me I go for it.  Onto Craigslist went the ad.  I did a tiny (2 minutes) bit of research and found some other similar sinks that had sold for 300 bucks.  I put mine up for 200 because we live in the asshole of the universe and people generally don't like to drive here.  It sat for 3 weeks with only scammers replying.  That was until last night.  A nice guy who is building his new house with all "natural" materials is VERY interested in my sink.  He wants to know dimensions and if it actually holds water.  Ummm I don't know.  It's a sink...so I am going to venture a yes on that.  Into the basement we go to do some further research on this relic.  We notice that it has been painted and that they painted over a plaque on the front.  We scrape off the paint and underneath is the name of the company that manufactured the sink.  Alberene Stone.  I jump onto the computer to find out if we should be making a million and discovered that this sink was carved from a 5 mile vein of soapstone that runs through the Blue Ridge Mountains in Albermarle county, where Dov and I lived before we purchased the house!  Now I don't know about anyone else but I think that is just cool.  I mean it's like a little sign that even though this house has it's fair share of headaches it was always meant to be our headache.  Soapstone can come from many different places but the particular sink that we have is only cut from that vein in Virginia.  Well now I don't want to sell the damn thing but I truly DON'T have a place for it.  So Sunday it will find a new home here in NH in a all natural home.  Oh La La.  We need the money for wood anyways.

For wood...cause this is how we say F YOU to Suburban Propane baby.  Now when I go there to lay the smack down it will hurt a little more because of all my gnarly calluses.

Monday, August 29, 2011

RIP Grady White

Well after thinking that we got by unscathed by Irene's wrath I got a call this morning that my parents beloved boat was floating upside down on the mooring at Flyers Marina in P-Town.  I have collected some great shots of the old girl and I will share them here.  Although it was very infrequent that I would get to enjoy a day out at sea with her, she always made sure it was a memorable one and that we all got to land safely, even when the sea threw 6 footers at us.  So long mate.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Hurricane Irene??

Well New Hampshire might take it in the pooper when it comes to snow but Massachusetts takes it in the pooper when it comes to hurricanes.  As far as I am concerned Hurricane Irene was a big "whatever".  Judging from the pictures that are popping up on Facebook though, Massachusetts had a good show.  The most we had was some pretty hard rain and a few strong gusts of wind...Oh and a basement full of water but what else is new?.  I don't think I have EVER seen my basement dry...well except when we first looked at the house...figures. I was so disappointed that we loaded the kids in the truck and went LOOKING for trouble.  Just to find absolutely nothing.  Not even a tree down.

All Irene had to offer us here in Wilton was a wet basement, a new in-ground swimming pool, and a catalpa branch next to the swing set.   So I guess I can empty my tub and call it a night.  So here you have it.  The forecast for this evening.

Hurricane update-Wilton New Hampshire 6:13 pm EST- rain continues with sustained winds of 8-10 mph.  Gusts as high as 14 mph, driveway strewn with leaves and twigs.  No signs of FEMA or the National Guard in NH to help with the clean up. Barack Obama does not care about white people.

Our new POOL!!
Bell doesn't let a hurricane get in the way of her gardening.
Storm Damage...Better get Bill McLean  Tree service up here.
Indoor swimming pool aka the basement.  This photo looks eerily similar to another that has appeared on the Blog.

Dov can take off his high waters now right?  Please?  I mean what the hell are these things?  They certainly are not shorts but not pants either.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

She only thinks your tractors sexy if you can pull Hubs truck out of the ditch.

Well did we ever go out last night.  Countyfest did not let us down.  It was amazing, even with possibly the worst seats in the house.  We literally sat in the highest, furthest section in Gillette Stadium.  When the ticket scanner looks at you and says, "have a nice walk, you should be there in a half an hour"  you know your probably a cheap skate.  By the time we got to our seats though I wouldn't have wanted to sit anywhere else.  We not only had a great view of the stage (distant as it was) but also a gorgeous sunset to take in.  I was blissed out to say the least.  We settled in with our concert neighbors, a nice couple who enjoyed screaming, yelling, and drunk dancing as much as moi and we were off.  That was until some turdy college doofus decided that his pre-game might have been a little too hard and began his vomiting.  Of which I stood for all of about 10 seconds before I told the said idiots friends that if they didn't take their dear comrade to the bathroom I would give him a swift boot off the balcony...I mean there is only so much barfing and spitting I can take while I enjoy my warm 13.00 glass of Cabernet.  Right?
Here is some illegal video of the awesomeness that was Countyfest.

***Scroll to the bottom of the page and pause the playlist before starting the video***

From the parking lot to the last song there was not a bad moment to be had.  That all changed when Hubs decided he wanted to prolong our child free evening and go parking at the power lines in Milford.  Well lets just say that pitch blackness and high grass lead to a 5 foot ditch and a tow truck at 1:30 in the morning.  Not how I had planned on ending our lovely evening but I guess that is what you get for showing a little too much cleavage all night.  Hopefully we will be able to laugh about it in a few years when I get over being extremely pissed off.  Who am I kidding, we have been laughing ever since we got home today.  Poor guy, trying to be romantic and take his wife necking and ends up dumping us in a ravine...oh well, memorable to say the least.  Trying to not get arrested by the Milford police in the wee morning hours sure made me feel young again so I guess that was worth it.

A few shots of the day/evening.

Well Hello there.
Momma forgot the sunscreen.  Oh boy.  Better get drunk enough not to care.
Now if you look behind my hat at that last chunk of seats directly under the stadium lights...that was our seats.
Look at the clouds!  Could you ask for a more perfect friggin day?  I think not.
The long journey to the seats
I guess I was thoroughly enjoying Billy Currington.  Oh yessssss.  I feel the music baby.
He likes me!  He really really likes me!

As we got deeper into the sauce the pictures become increasingly worse as did the evening so I will leave it here.  It was all in all one of my favorite date nights EVERRRRR.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Who's getting fixed? You or me.

Here is a subject for ya.  How big do you want your family to be?  Good ole common sense says if you must, replace yourselves and call it a day.  Or maybe your common sense says, "bring babies into this crazy world?...no thanks".   Some people may even say, "as many as the good Lord will provide" (gag).  I mean come on, there has to be some sort of limit.  Unless you have a crazy amount of money or an insane amount of help (neither of which I have).  But here is the dilemma.  How do you get comfortable being DONE?  You know, finished, grateful, and satisfied that you have rented out your womb for the last time.  I, for one, am enthusiastically finished most of the time.  Like 98% of the time...but there is always that 2% somewhere in the deepest most psychotic parts of my brain, that like to play games with me late at night after one too many glasses of wine. 
This conversation came up on girls weekend and I found out that I am not the only one that struggles with this.  In the throws of a REALLY long and hard day with the kids there will sometimes be honest discussions about somebody getting "fixed".  Then the realization will hit that we are both fairly young...I mean Hubs is not even 30 yet!  How could we possibly make a decision as monumental as that when we are still in our prime!  It is just lunacy to say the least.  Your brain tells you one thing (THE RIGHT THING) and your stupid body wants to make trouble.  SERIOUS TROUBLE.
After the complications with my second pregnancy and the fear that was put in me, I swore up and down that I would never EVER go through it again.  I mean months of therapy, endless crying, and NO sleeping for nights on end had really made me a firm believer that pregnancy was for the birds, or maybe people that enjoyed being tortured with the unknown.  Questionable prenatal testing results.  Wonky ultrasound findings...I mean how do you really tell if a twelve week old fetus has a small nasal bone?  Aren't they all small?  The baby is like 12 centimeters long!  It all led to me being DONE.  FINITO.  ALL SET with doing it ever again.  But that damn "time heals everything" really is a bitch. 
No I am not getting pregnant again.  At least not anytime soon.  I just really wish that my brain would tell that psychotic piece of itself that it needs lithium.  Or less wine.  But we all know that isn't going to happen.  I need that wine to deal with our replacements.

I think this might be the solution...blow this picture up REALLY big.  Put it right next to the bed and every single time psychotic brain comes out to play...LOOK AT IT!  Do I really want to look like that again?  Come on people...THAT is not a flattering look.  But it is a accurate depiction of a landlord to a rental uterus that was left a disaster.  It is going to take that poor landlord YEARS to fix that place up.  Sad part is they had no security deposit.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

4 vs 1.5 and some random stuff.

A couple little thoughts...

This is the first time in about 5 years that we are NOT in the middle of moving.  I can not explain what a relief that is.  There is nothing worse then moving.  It is bad enough when you just have to move your own junk but add into that a husband and two kids and you have a recipe for at least one nervous breakdown a day...if not more.  Luckily for us, the last two moves we used a moving company and I can not rave enough about the benefits both mentally and physically.  Yes it is expensive and if we had to pay for it...well we would not have had them but boy if we ever, god forbid, have to move again I think I would contemplate raking up some credit card debt just to not have to pack and lug my own junk.  Yes I said pack.  I honest to god did not care if some sweaty weirdo was packing my delicates...really, that's how much I hate packing.

People lie when they say the 2's are the worst.  Then they try to tell you that 3 is hard but it will get better...LIE.  So far in the last few weeks I can see that 4 is not going to be my cup of tea either.  We have a new found sense of independence and we flex our back talking skills on a constant basis.   It is a funny thing that back talk.  I can vividly remember my parents telling me not to back talk them when I was a kid and thinking to myself...what the hell is back talk?.  Some times I would even state that question out loud.  Well that my friends is back talk.  Worthy of a back hand.

My daughter is still not 2 so still pretty cute.  The most she says is UH OH and PUPPY.  I find it hard not to favor 1.5 over 4 right now.  4 is still capable of melting my heart, don't get me wrong, but the moments of defiance and the recent loss of all hearing abilities is really trying to say the least.  I am sure 1.5 is headed directly in the path of 4...maybe even worse, since she thinks that it is HILARIOUS when 4 is having a stand off with Mom.  She just laughs and says UH OH.  Yes and another thing, for anyone out there about to say "wait till they are teenagers"  BITE ME!  I need a light at the end of the tunnel and that statement almost always makes me want to kill myself.

Sometimes 4 wants me to treat him like he is 1.5 and that makes me sad because when I hold him he really is a big boy.  I can actually see how he will look as a teenager now.  He is losing that little kid/baby face and he has definite features and attitude that enable you to picture him as a grown up and that is a weird feeling.  I can vividly remember when I would lie in bed pregnant with 4 and try to picture what he would look like when he was born.  Time really does fly people.

4 can no longer smile normally for a photo and 1.5 will not sit still.

Lastly don't buy nice things or do any home improvements when you have young children or pets.  They destroy everything.  As I typed this 1.5 took a no-spill sippy cup full of grape juice and water and somehow got it to spill it's contents all over my fairly new couch and white rug. As I cleaned this I noticed a huge tear in the otoman from the dog.  Kids/pets 2 Mom 0 and it is only 9 am.

Quick vid of 1.5 and her puppy.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Birthday Bash 2011

Noah and Connors birthday bash is now a distant memory.  A birthday party that I hope they will recall as one of their best.  The memories might become vague as the years pass but they certainly won't forget the highlights, hunting for bears with their "shotguns", and getting a lawn tractor ride from Grammy and uncle Steven.  But who knows, maybe it will be the pool or the lawn games they played that will stick in their minds, all I know is they will be hard pressed to have a funner kiddo birthday. 

The party was also a good chance for Dov and I to work on the yard a bit more and I think that the house looked nice.  With a yard the size of ours it is a wonder that either of us made it out of bed the morning of the party.  From the mowing to the weeding, not to forget the stacking of wood and cleaning of the garage all the way down to  making sure the chickens lovely odor was as contained as humanly possible.   It is safe to say we were both pretty spent. 

Now... the party in photos.
The Jaffe residence

Don't judge the horse head on my fence post...it will become clear why that hasn't kicked rocks yet in a minute.
Cousin Connor taking a ride into the pool with a little help from Noah

Noah's turn

Wooohooo....Bella wants IN!
One of the horses came by to say Happy Birthday!  See I can't get rid of the horse head!  The neighbors might get mad.
The boys going off to hunt for bear
Anybody want some cake?  Yes, I am well aware that the frosting looks like turds.  It is what I heard all day.

The birthday boys
The boys playing a kid friendly lawn dart game...check out the concentration.
This was serious work and poor Bell was messing up their game.

She just wanted to feel included. 

It just didn't work out.

So we decided that the safest activity would be to take out the lawn mower and hook up  the kids wagon for some rides...hey we live in New Hampshire...we do that kind of thing.

Then we decided to open up some gifts...notice Noah's faux hawk.  Ya I did that.

The moms and the boys
Noah got the best seat in the house.  Thanks Grammy Constance!  Great job.

Noah loved Clifford...

But Tahoe did too.

Autie Sue and me

The garage scene.
It all ended with a fire and a uncle asleep in the woods.

The end.