Is it bad that I'm addicted to Craigslist? I really don't have money to buy anything right now; trying to save up for the wedding and all. I'm not currently selling anything. Organic Guy is, and I've helped him with posting everything; there isn't anything else to post, and no need to check on the postings, I KNOW they're okay. But I still find myself checking Craigslist at least once a day, and just randomly troll through different things. One time I might look at RV's, another at boats, sometimes apartments/houses for rent (although I LOVE my house), real estate for sale (but only over a certain dollar figure, because I'm totally a voyuer on that one), motorcycles, and at least once a week, I search for "organic" (that's sorta my job, but not really....).
So, am I just weird, or does anyone else do this?
Friday, March 28, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Just Too Soon
Okay, I mentioned that I'm little. Or at least small-ish. It's time to be honest, here's the full disclosure. I'm 5 feet tall. Yep, that's five-foot-nothing. When I was in elementary school, I was always the kid in the front row, all the way on the right. You other vertically challenged folk know what I mean. I'm SHORT. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I have a 10 year old Organic Kid. She looks like me. A lot. Same eyes, smile, bone structure in her face. When we put our heads together, it's hard to tell where her hair ends and mine starts. BUT....her legs are all her dad's. He's 6'6". Yeah, you read that right. A foot and a half taller than me. And no, I'm not going to explain HOW other than to say I like yoga. I've always known that Organic Kid would be taller than me. I just WAS NOT prepared for this to happen while she was still in elementary school! And I just got a rude reminder. Her school was having a "wear your team colors!" day for the ACC basketball tourney (I know, I know, but this is what happens when you live on Tobacco Road). Unfortunately, we don't have any ACC gear at the Nest. I'm a Nebraska graduate (GO BIG RED!! HUSKER POWER!!). Organic Guy attended a few different universities, before graduating from Appalachian State (the Michigan-Beating Giant Killers! Can you say 3-peat??). So, no gear for NC State, or the Tar Heels, or for the love of all that is holy, NO DUKE!!!! So, we decided to improvise. Here is Organic Kid in her lovely "team gear."
She looks great, doesn't she. From a distance, you could almost believe this is an NC State Wolfpack shirt. And it fits so well! But...here's what bugs me:
Who do you suppose this shirt belongs to, the one that fits her so well? Let's see, it says "real women" not "real girls" or "real kids" or even "really really tall kids." It's a Huskers shirt (see the N logo?). Organic Kid has already expressed a desire to attend NC State (but she's 10, and that may change, like, 50 times in the next 8 years, so I can roll with that). Yes, without question, it's my shirt. Granted, I did give permission for her to wear it. But sheesh, you'd think it would be big and baggy on her or something. So, now, I've lost control of my shirts, next week, it'll likely be my shoes (she already has expressed a preference for my Harley Davidson motorcycle boot, if you please!), and next summer, I suppose I'll lose control of my light cotton skirts. Sigh. Like I said, I knew this would happen. But, I still wish she could be my little girl for just a bit longer....
I have a 10 year old Organic Kid. She looks like me. A lot. Same eyes, smile, bone structure in her face. When we put our heads together, it's hard to tell where her hair ends and mine starts. BUT....her legs are all her dad's. He's 6'6". Yeah, you read that right. A foot and a half taller than me. And no, I'm not going to explain HOW other than to say I like yoga. I've always known that Organic Kid would be taller than me. I just WAS NOT prepared for this to happen while she was still in elementary school! And I just got a rude reminder. Her school was having a "wear your team colors!" day for the ACC basketball tourney (I know, I know, but this is what happens when you live on Tobacco Road). Unfortunately, we don't have any ACC gear at the Nest. I'm a Nebraska graduate (GO BIG RED!! HUSKER POWER!!). Organic Guy attended a few different universities, before graduating from Appalachian State (the Michigan-Beating Giant Killers! Can you say 3-peat??). So, no gear for NC State, or the Tar Heels, or for the love of all that is holy, NO DUKE!!!! So, we decided to improvise. Here is Organic Kid in her lovely "team gear."
She looks great, doesn't she. From a distance, you could almost believe this is an NC State Wolfpack shirt. And it fits so well! But...here's what bugs me:
Who do you suppose this shirt belongs to, the one that fits her so well? Let's see, it says "real women" not "real girls" or "real kids" or even "really really tall kids." It's a Huskers shirt (see the N logo?). Organic Kid has already expressed a desire to attend NC State (but she's 10, and that may change, like, 50 times in the next 8 years, so I can roll with that). Yes, without question, it's my shirt. Granted, I did give permission for her to wear it. But sheesh, you'd think it would be big and baggy on her or something. So, now, I've lost control of my shirts, next week, it'll likely be my shoes (she already has expressed a preference for my Harley Davidson motorcycle boot, if you please!), and next summer, I suppose I'll lose control of my light cotton skirts. Sigh. Like I said, I knew this would happen. But, I still wish she could be my little girl for just a bit longer....
Friday, March 21, 2008
Cleaning and Countertops
I came to the conclusion last night that I am in desparate need of a compost bin. I don't care if it's a countertop one, or a under counter, or something in the yard. I'm just really tired of throwing away things that I don't have to throw away.
Last night, for example, I had ends of garlic, onion cores and skins, a dab of leftover rice, just the general food-stuff that doesn't get used and/or eaten. Rachael Ray's "trash bowl" if you please. I looked at the pile of leavings, and realized I'd have to throw it all away. I don't have a disposal (which wouldn't work for everything, anyway), and I don't have a dishwasher, so I'm pretty fanatical about scraping dishes before washing. And I could be composting all these scraps for my flowers and plants and the like. But I'm not. Because I've been lazy about getting a bin. This world has enough problems with people consuming too much and throwing stuff away. And here I am contributing to the problem. Some part of the organic community I turned out to be, eh? Okay...goal for the weekend...find a good countertop composter, and start using the darned thing! Anyone have any recommendations?
Last night, for example, I had ends of garlic, onion cores and skins, a dab of leftover rice, just the general food-stuff that doesn't get used and/or eaten. Rachael Ray's "trash bowl" if you please. I looked at the pile of leavings, and realized I'd have to throw it all away. I don't have a disposal (which wouldn't work for everything, anyway), and I don't have a dishwasher, so I'm pretty fanatical about scraping dishes before washing. And I could be composting all these scraps for my flowers and plants and the like. But I'm not. Because I've been lazy about getting a bin. This world has enough problems with people consuming too much and throwing stuff away. And here I am contributing to the problem. Some part of the organic community I turned out to be, eh? Okay...goal for the weekend...find a good countertop composter, and start using the darned thing! Anyone have any recommendations?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
SNNNNZZZZZ
I hate insomnia! I was up late last night, finishing up a project. I know I probably could have put it off until today, and gotten it done early. But other folks were waiting for me to finish, and I just can't leave stuff unfinished when it affects someone else. But, really, that isn't the point. Because it really wasn't that late that I finished. About 12:15 AM. After which time, I toddled off to brush my teeth and collapse into bed.
Organic Guy was deeply asleep. Deeply, snore-ily asleep. And he sleeps warm! I mean, like I have a space-heater in bed next to me warm. So, he's there happily sleeping, sounding like a buzz saw (poor guy, he has terrible allergies, and I think every tree in a 50-mile radius is currently pollinating), and generating the heat of a small sun. I lay down, thinking I'm exhausted, and as long as I'm not right up next to him, it should be okay. And it was, for a while. I dozed off, then woke up at 1 AM. Completely woke up, you know, feeling like I should be in the shower and getting ready for work awake. And I TRIED to get back to sleep, using every trick I could think of, thinking of every part of my body from toes to head, and imagining them heavier and more and more relaxed, until I fell asleep. Kind of a self-hypnosis. That just made me feel more awake...all that thinking. I counted sheep. I imagined curling up in a spot of sunshine on my comfy cozy couch like a cat. Nothing. I finally got up and tried to figure out what would help. HA! The Wednesday newspaper...that's dull, I've already read it. Nope. Still wide awake. Hmm...how about one of Organic Kid's books. Some of her favorite books are soooo badly written, it should be easy to fall asleep. Again, nope. Bored with the book, but not sleepy. Finally, if a fit of desperation, I found one of my old college textbooks. I had to dig thru a couple of boxes in the spare bedroom, but I was willing to do anything at that point! And a book on the suburbanization of Chicago was the key. Finally, at 3 AM-ish, snnzzzzz. Asleep, at last.
This morning, I am thanking every Goddess and God in every pantheon known to man for my wonderful little French Press I keep at the office, and for the stellar Organic Guatemala Huehuetenango from Royal Bean just up the road. Aaaahhhhhh, coffee bliss!
Organic Guy was deeply asleep. Deeply, snore-ily asleep. And he sleeps warm! I mean, like I have a space-heater in bed next to me warm. So, he's there happily sleeping, sounding like a buzz saw (poor guy, he has terrible allergies, and I think every tree in a 50-mile radius is currently pollinating), and generating the heat of a small sun. I lay down, thinking I'm exhausted, and as long as I'm not right up next to him, it should be okay. And it was, for a while. I dozed off, then woke up at 1 AM. Completely woke up, you know, feeling like I should be in the shower and getting ready for work awake. And I TRIED to get back to sleep, using every trick I could think of, thinking of every part of my body from toes to head, and imagining them heavier and more and more relaxed, until I fell asleep. Kind of a self-hypnosis. That just made me feel more awake...all that thinking. I counted sheep. I imagined curling up in a spot of sunshine on my comfy cozy couch like a cat. Nothing. I finally got up and tried to figure out what would help. HA! The Wednesday newspaper...that's dull, I've already read it. Nope. Still wide awake. Hmm...how about one of Organic Kid's books. Some of her favorite books are soooo badly written, it should be easy to fall asleep. Again, nope. Bored with the book, but not sleepy. Finally, if a fit of desperation, I found one of my old college textbooks. I had to dig thru a couple of boxes in the spare bedroom, but I was willing to do anything at that point! And a book on the suburbanization of Chicago was the key. Finally, at 3 AM-ish, snnzzzzz. Asleep, at last.
This morning, I am thanking every Goddess and God in every pantheon known to man for my wonderful little French Press I keep at the office, and for the stellar Organic Guatemala Huehuetenango from Royal Bean just up the road. Aaaahhhhhh, coffee bliss!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The first test
So, this is a new attempt at blogging. And I'm betting you're wondering what the h*ll a wombat nest is! Well, for many years now, I've been called Wombat. Because they're smallish, burrowing creatures. And I'm smallish. And I've been accused of being a blanket bogart, and curling up in all the covers and not letting anyone else share. So. Wombat Nest. That's my and my home.
And that's all this blog will be about. Me, home, whatever occurs to me as I'm gazing at my navel. Go figure. Isn't that what pretty much all blogs are?
And that's all this blog will be about. Me, home, whatever occurs to me as I'm gazing at my navel. Go figure. Isn't that what pretty much all blogs are?
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