Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Archive for the ‘environment’ Category

I Need You Mom. No I Don’t. Yes I do.

Rose. Age 21. Daughter number 3, sixth child.

Fell off a moped during the final afternoon of labor day  beach vacation.

Broke both right forearm bones.

Road Rash” up and down her legs.

Drove her back to Baltimore to Union Memorial Hospital and the best upper extremity surgeons on the East Coast.

Now she has some hardware in her arm. A plate, pins and screws pulling the broken pieces all together. It’s been a long couple of weeks.

Before her surgery, she cried. I spoke softly to her and said the prayers from her childhood to comfort her.

After her surgery I slept by her. Gave her the pain medications, help her with all her needs, took her to the doctor and made repeated calls to him when she had questions.

I wiped her tears as she saw the track surgical scar run down her arm and the new shape of the back of her hand.

I handled the insurance company, her school medical leave letters and hooked her up with a decent physical therapist.

Now it’s 3 weeks post-op and the girl is back to normal.

Offended if I ask her if she wants me to cut a tag off the back of her shirt.

The cuddle-muffin who lay in my bed night after night is angry that I appeared at her PT appointment.

Miss Independent is back and I am left wondering if that momentary bond we shared when she was in pain and scared ever really happened.

Norway. Now What. Gmom’s Thought’s From Baltimore

For those following my blog.

Husband is home.

Mission accomplished.

I may be able to loan him out to FEMA. He is good.

It’s quiet in Baltimore tonight. Warm and sweet. Cujo and I are doing our usual patrolling of the grounds. Heat lightning is firing every few minutes.

Unless you live under a rock you have heard about the atrocity that happened in Norway on Friday. A lunatic planting bombs in Oslo then went on a killing spree at a youth camp.

Security is not tight in a country unused to such violence and better known for awarding the Nobel Peace Prize and mediating in conflicts, including the Middle East and Sri Lanka.

Breaks gmom’s heart.

Man dresses up like a police officer to gain access to the summer camp than mows down the kids with an automatic weapon.

In Boro Park, New York a few weeks ago, 8-year-old Leiby Kletsky walking home from day camp was picked up by a man who murdered and dismembered him. He put the boy’s body part’s in a red suitcase and kept the child’s feet in his freezer for himself.

In the search for Leiby, 3000 people hit the streets. A store’s surveillance camera caught the boy going with the man in to his car leading the police to resolution of the case. The boy was an orthodox Jew, the man he went with wore a yarmulke and looked liked an orthodox Jew.

Here in Baltimore recently there were 3 cases of men banging on residents doors saying, “Baltimore City Police,open up.” And the people did. People were tied up, men were shot, homes ransacked.

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to a woman.

(Now we have Casey Anthony on the street)

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to someone in a uniform.

It’s a different world.

What do we tell our children now?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Down The Rabbit Hole

For all  of you following my blog husband is still away overseas.

Here is what has changed at  home while the man who holds the string of your kite is gone.

Number one: You might accidentally kill one or  2 of your children.

Normally, in the night Bart comes in, he drives ones of the biofuel trucks and comes in at 3 or 4 a.m. I’ll half wake up and hear him kick off his shoes, shuffle into the shower, scrounge around the kitchen and go to bed.

But without husband here, I immediately reach for the gun.

I go up the stairs gun poised, ready to defend against any intruder. It never dawns on me that Cujo is upstairs happily bopping around.

Bart turns and sees me. Without a word he takes the gun out of my hands, removes the clip and tells me to go back to bed before I hurt myself.

Okay,sorry.

Number 2: You might let your guard dog sleep on your husband’s $200 Brooks Brother’s robe, maybe even on the bed.Everyone needs to be special sometimes.

Number 3: You might stop taking showers  often. I mean what’s the point? This goes for changing into nighties as well.

Number 4: You may suddenly realize that a plate of french fries makes a perfectly good dinner, even better while eaten in front of the TV.

Number 5: You may realize that you don’t have to water the “effing lawn everyday, or pick up your dog’s  poop. I mean who made these rules anyway? Poop is organic..it’s like compost.

Number 6: Turns out you don’t have to go and check on your neighbor just because it’s 103F outside. Just a big “ole, hope you’re still alive Edna!  Yelled out an open window does just fine.

Number 7: You have the opportunity to go though all husband’s secret guy stuff. Unfortunately this has yielded nothing! Nothing!

I hope this give you some good ideas for the next time your superhero flies off.

This is gmom.

Down the rabbit hole.

peace out.

Apple (Lappal) Cake

Something about apples…

They are so…American.

In light of that sentiment and the news of the day.

Shall we tally ho and forth and so on with this ultra-comfort food.

Pass me another piece!!!!!

A Teenage Gourmet published this recipe for apple cake.

I made it today with little granddaughter Starlite, who calls it lappal cake.

It is as delicious as it looks and super easy.

Here is the link to Sammi’s blog where you can get the recipe.

http://ateenagegourmet.wordpress.com/2011/05/01/heckuva-apple-cake-for-mom/

Absolutely, totally worth it.

I made the cake as Sammi suggested with granny smith apples.

I used the full sugar and oil, and no orange zest.

I was working with Starlite’s help so I kept things simple, and moving fast.

Awesome, awesome cake.

Thanks Sammi you rocked this one!

I made the cake in 2 pans so Starlie could take home one to Mommy!

Apple cake served with ice cream.

Here is a bite for you!

Yummy! Thanks Sammi!

This is gmom,

Have a safe weekend.

Peace out.

Don’t Make Me Call Donald Trump!

If the white house news reports and the subsequent  inconsistencies regarding the raid on Osama Bin Laden‘s compound haven’t caught your attention then maybe you’ve just been too busy with your own life to follow it.

I’m going to link you here to The Roycroft Report which is not fully comprehensive but does offer a nice even handed overview from a swell guy.    http://jroycroft.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/obama-cant-get-the-bin-laden-story-straight/

Here’s my take.

People who have nothing to hide, hide nothing.

Did anyone wonder why it took a “carnival barker” like Donald Trump to make enough noise to finally get the president to choke up a birth certificate?

I laughed at Trump. I am not laughing anymore.

I’m thinking maybe Trump who, oh yeah, lives a whole lot more comfortable then gmom, might know something I don’t.

““““““““““““““““““““““““

So we don’t get to see pictures of the raid on Osama Bin Laden’s compound in Pakistan  cause it might be inflammatory to Muslim extremists.

What about us?

All the raid news information is coming straight from the white house. They are the sole source.

They have the pictures and the sound reel and still can’t get the story straight?

This does not make sense.

Where is Donald Trump when you need him.

Does it take a carnival barker to get us the answers we have a right to?

May God keep you safe.

This is gmom,

peace out.

We Played Frisbee

We all went to a local park today.

Kids tossed a frisbee around.

“C’mon Mom play, we’ll teach you…c’mon..”

They wonged the useless disc in wild arcs that most often dived hard in the grass.

I walked the perimeter of the park with Hoo  thinking of the friends so recently lost.

My mind is racing with thoughts and notions.

I’m going to quit my job, I’m going to live on the beach,I have to get out of town…I just have to.

The frisbee  hits at my feet.

I pick it up and easily throw it back-hand.

It flies fast.  Flat. Far. Straight.  Way beyond where the kids are playing.

“Hey Mom! Where did you learn to throw a frisbee like that???”

My mind flashes to a sunny faced boy winging a frisbee,

and I have to  smile.

He taught me this,

With frisbee the lesson is,

Just let it go.

Simple Living. Where The Eye And Heart Can Rest.

http://36×37.wordpress.com/

I love this blogger who is a bona-fide writer.

She recently blogged about Randy from Pittsburgh who creates street art.

His focus is revitalizing the neighborhoods with his vibrant colorful art.

He creates gardens and landscapes as well.

Quite the awesome dude.

Thanks to Maura for throwing a light on Randy and introducing him to peeps like me through her blog.

Years ago I was a Randy wannabee.

The only difference between Randy and I? I have no artistic sensibility.

But I didn’t let that stop me.

My canvas was our family bathroom. A spare 4 by 8 foot utilitarian white, waiting for me.

I went with cow spot.

I painted huge black splotches.

Cow hide covered the ceiling and walls. I bought a couple of farm prints and hung those.

Cow hand towels hugged the towel bar. I even had a cow shower curtain.

Everyone commented on the cow bathroom. I was artistically fulfilled.

When it came time to sell this house the realtor advised us to paint the cow bathroom white. “What??” I cried “Absolutely not, everyone loves the cow bathroom.  It adds value to the house!”

From his expression I could see he did not agree. Paint over the cow bathroom???

I sulked the day it was done. Goodbye cow bathroom. But the funny thing was. When it was done the bathroom looked so much bigger.  So much calmer. Peaceful even. I hung white towels and bleached  the counters and the room was transformed from a joke to something of an oasis.

Ever since, when I get the urge to go wild with color and theme,  I say to myself, less is more.

Edit, edit, edit.

In how few elements can I do this.  In how few words can I communicate a thought.

The most important word is 4 letters.

The most important emotion can be expressed in a touch.

When you break life down in to its base elements you can see what is really there.

What the truth is.

One yellow sun.

One gray moon.

One blue earth.

This is gmom and Hoo,

living simply,

And simply living.

Peace out.

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