My Kids Don’t Live Here

Someone in our neighborhood pulled a “Claire” (Modern Family reference) and posted large and in charge signs about our choice of driving speed. Here they are:

Give Our Kids a Brake

Give ME a brake.

Yes it is. And I cannot possibly go any more slowly.

Yes it is. And I cannot possibly go any more slowly.

My kids do not live here. I do not have kids. But if I did, I would sure as SHIT- make sure they knew if they EVER played in traffic I would gently slap their hand and take away their iPad.

“No more cyber baking for YOU, missy!”

My God, what have we done with our world and its inhabitants?

If my child were too young to comprehend that the road is a dangerous place, I would put it on an adorable backpack leash and let it get really excited about its bogus freedom. Everyone wins in this situation.

But now, we have these neighbors who MUST let their babies crawl or tweens bike ride on the road by themselves, where there is TRAFFIC! This is the only explanation.

I picture driving up to the offensive signs in my POS Malibu, opening the door and knocking them over. I wouldn’t even do it at night (like they did when they posted them). I want people to witness my outrage.

Just to clarify, the signs are not targeted at me. I drive the speed limit because I was born a goody two shoes, but Jack has been known to charge through the neighborhood at 5AM like a maniac on the odd occasion. Jack was born a shit disturber. However, if your kids are roaming around at that hour, something is deeply wrong.

After the weekend, there is a noticeable bright orange dot of spray paint on one of the signs. By the looks of it, some kid was trying to be a shit disturber (like Jack) and chickened out. If you’re going to vandalize property in this neighborhood, at least finish the job. Don’t be afraid to write something witty either; just get in there and graffiti.

My kids don’t exist, but if they did, they wouldn’t be quitters.

Advertisements

Crazy Garden Lady

I can’t believe this is happening to me.

As a background, I grew up on a farm and all I knew was homegrown vegetables and my mom’s various gardens and flower beds which, over the years grew in size and quantity. Even now when their kids are grown up, you can venture out to the farm on any given summer day and you will find my mom tending to her vast garden. She still plants the same amount as when all of us were living there. Often I hear her say she could “feed an army” with all that she grows. In fact, she could and even after giving away the goods from half her garden, she still has two deep freezes, two fridges, a water well and a cold room full of vegetables! I have made a silent vow to never follow in her footsteps because I remember being worked to the bone; planting, picking, tailing, cutting, stringing beans, shelling peas, hilling potatoes, cross pollinating tomatoes; and the list goes on.

It’s a regular occurrence for me to call or text my lovely sister to ask advice. The other day, I called her at work because I was in Walmart and wanted to know where I could find “those little round dirt things you plant seeds in.” She knew exactly what I was talking about because we are sisters and all the misunderstandings when we were young have turned us into perfectly in sync, mind reading adults.

Obviously I am an amateur to the outside world because the Customer Service Rep looked at me blankly and then said,“Oh, you mean peat pallets? They are just over here.”

(Yes, peat pallets! Love those things!)

“I’m sorry, we must be out.”

“OUT?” (Instant hulk-like, little kid temper tantrum rage).

I grabbed my composure and moved on to another store. Luckily, they had the round dirt things and not just ordinary ones. The round things were surrounded by a glorious mini greenhouse! Genius; who comes up with these things?! I promptly bought the greenhouse along with seeds for two types of tomatoes and a variety of petunias.

I tackled the job of sowing my seeds yesterday. I had 24 round dirt things which seemed like not enough. I got my phone out to ask for more advice.

“How many tomato plants do you usually plant?”

“Four, and one cherry tomato. I get quite a few tomatoes off them.”

“Oh. I was thinking more like 12”.

“That would be a lot. You would be like Mom then.”

Noooo! I don’t want to be Crazy Garden Lady! It’s better than cats but all the neighbor kids will still point and laugh. This brings me back to my original point: I can’t believe this is happening to me. I thought about it for a moment and decided being Crazy Garden Lady might be the end of the world and 12 tomato plants was way too much. . . 

I have started 12 tomato plants. Like mother, like daughter.