The Queen's Bathroom

So, it seems it is time to tell a story about our mothers. Of course it should be touching and warm, not. Here is the story of my mother and the Queen's bathroom.

In my late 20's I worked for a large, international hotel chain. I was very very good at selling hotel rooms. Because I sold a lot of rooms, I was treated to many free trips. I went to St. Martin, Puerto Rico, Saint Thomas, New York, Puerto Vallarta, and the list goes on and on. The jewel in my travels was a trip to London. The trips were almost always for two and I was single, so I invited my mom.

We left from DFW, had a lay over at O'Hare and then on to Heathrow. What a flight. We arrived for our four day stay with jet lag and no clue what the food was going to be like. We really should have done more research on what to eat. We stayed at a new hotel on Chelsea harbor in a beautiful suite.

We visited museums, Victoria and Albert comes to mind. We went to Bath and Stonehenge. We followed a lovely lady through the streets of London. She carried a yellow polka dotted umbrella and showed us where the Texas Embassy is located. Everyone should take a street tour like that one.

The biggest, most important thing we were able to visit was Buckingham Palace. We were able to tour the palace because it was being used to help pay for the repair of Windsor Castle, which had been damaged by fire.

We were in this long long line (que) and I dearly needed to potty. Asking for a bathroom in England will get you some really strange looks. When I finally was able to make myself understood to one of the tour workers, she passed me off to someone at a side door and explained to the other proper, nice lady that I needed a W.C. They both looked equally shocked at my need, but took me to the Queen's bathroom. It was really a nice little bathroom. The second lady stood gaurd over me and delivered me back to the que and my dear mother. She was clearly glad to be rid of this crude, American, worse Texan with the bad manners to have bodily functions. I found this all to be hilariously funny, which the proper ladies found even more distasteful.

My mother is a sweet, mostly proper, little woman. She raised seven children and none of us are in jail. Most of us have college degrees. All of us respect her and hide the fact that we may want a tattoo from her. She would never ever do anything illegal or immoral. Her mother, my grandma Rhodella, raised her better. So her next question caught me totally off guard. She asked, "Did you steal some toilet paper?" Absolutely not. She raised me better than that.

Well, okay, maybe she has a wild side.


What is the craziest thing you mother ever did or expected you to do?

Things Didn't Quite Work Out

I am back home.

My one-year-old nephew, Jack, has pneumonia. We took off this morning worried because he was going for a chest x-ray. We made frequent phone calls checking on him and it seemed like he was going to be okay. However, at about 3:00, just about the time we made it to my friend's house just north of Houston, we got the call. The little guy had to be admitted. We turned around. I took Mamala to the hospital and stayed for a short visit. Mamala is spending the night with sister and Jack. He should be okay, but it is no fun to have such a little guy all hooked up to an iv and pulse ox machine. Sister says he is doing much better than he was earlier today.

So no quilt show this year. Maybe next.

Going on a Quilting Trip

I am planning my escape to a land where there are no monkeys, the pillows stay on the bed, and the socks are not on the ceiling fan. I am going to Houston to visit my good friend Kathy. Mamala and I will be leaving tomorrow morning. We will spend all day at the International Quilt Show. I hope to get a lot done on that quilt up there in the picture. Just think, three days of of uninterrupted quilting, quilt shopping, and adult conversation. Oh the joy of it. I am so happy my head might explode.

I'll be back on Friday in time for trick or treating. Why don't you visit some of the blogs I dig while I'm gone. The list is right over there on the sidebar.

The Scarves Are In The Mail

I put the fringe on my scarf and boxed it up with six my mom made. They have been sent on to Kathryn of Plant What Ever Brings You Joy for the Scarf Initiative. Thanks Katheryn for organizing and carrying out this fantastic project. It was an honor to participate. Mine is pink and lime green. Mamala's are made from warm, fuzzy, red fleece. I hope they help keep seven little girls warm this winter. I am the oldest of seven children so the seven scarves just seems appropriate.

The Rain is Here

The rain is here. So I am stuck inside.

I think I will clean up the mom wall. This is where I put papers from school, art work, gardening articles, and apparently a picture of Mamala with her girls. There really should be a better way to keep up with my kids stuff, but I have yet to figure it out. Any suggestions?

More Monkey News and the Truth About My Socks.

I was woke up this morning by a very obviously upset Manly Man yelling, "What did you do?' I got up and found that Baby Monkey's face, neck, and shoulder were covered in blue ink. He had "bit" an ink cartridge during the night. Now tell me why you would get up in the middle of the night, take a pen apart, and bite the ink cartridge? WHY?WHY?WHY?WHY?

Yesterday, I found the giant sheet of bubble wrap in the bathtub. It was wet. Someone had taken a bath with it. Sister#2 says this makes sense as they may have been using it as a floatation devise. I asked her to raise them. She declined.

Later, my mother calls. She is in a big box store with Middle Monkey and one of the girl cousins. I think this is odd as it is the middle of the day. Apparently, she went to eat lunch with the two of them at school and somehow the little creatures talked her into taking them with her when she left. My mother, the woman who never fell for anything and never, I mean never ever, allowed us to miss school unless we were on our death bead, this woman signed those kids out of school early. Did hell freeze over?

Now I have a confession. I have three pairs of fuzzy socks. I love my fuzzy socks. I hate it when my feet are cold. I have been known to wear these fuzzy socks with gardening clogs while taking my boys to school. You should see how fast they can get out of the truck when I do. If socks are going to be outlawed, I am going to become a fuzzy sock wearing criminal. You won't take me alive. I will die with my socks on. There are three days left in the sock poll. So far Ourfriendben is losing quite badly. You could give him and hand and leave me to my life of crime or you could make an honest woman out of me and save the fuzzy socks.

International Compost Awareness Week

As many of you know, I am dedicated to composting. I love compost. I like it when things rot. This week is International Compost Awareness Week. Here is the link for information and the Composting Council website.

In the past I have made cold compost, which breaks down in its' own sweet time and container composted when I lived in an apartment. Now I have three different composting situations going on. There is the worm bin. The worms are feed vegetable food scraps, egg shells, coffee grounds, and tea bags. The bin is a bottomless wooden box sitting on the ground by the rabbit hutch. The worms and worm compost are covered with a layer of my shredded bills. I love feeding my worms our bills.

I also have a regular compost pile. This is were I wage my war trying to create hot compost. I have not been able to heat up this pile over 105 since I started this blog. Therefore, it must be the blogs fault. As of right now, it is 100 degrees. I want it to be 120. That compost pile gets weeds, pasta, rice, moldy bread, bunny poo, and vegetable oils. I know, I know, don't but anything greasy in your compost pile. Well, I'm not buying it. The oil breaks down just like the rest of the stuff. In fact, after I poor oil into the center of the pile it heats up a little for a couple of days. That is a clear sign of microbial activity. So vegetable oil composts. The only other options we would have with oils are poor it down the drain (bad idea) or send it to the landfill (horrible idea). I feel it needs to be returned to the earth.

The third composting project I have going on is to pull weeks and lay them on the ground that has not been planted. This smothers weeds in the fallow areas and enriches the soil. After about two weeks, the pulled weeds have done there job and the areas is ready to be planted. This saves a lot of time and work. I just remove the weed mulch and the ground is pretty much prepared for me. Just a little cultivating and a little bit of nitrogen and it is good to go.

I have to add that Meme is now saving her vegetable scraps for me. She had two gallon bags full of stuff for me yesterday. Go MEME. Remember when I stole her garbage. She mentioned starting her own pile. I am so proud my Meme is growing into a gardener/environmentalist. Mamala also saves scraps for my worms. The worms are thankful. Favorite Sister and Sister #2 both have the container composting set up. They are doing well. Sister #2 actually was able to harvest about a half gallon of compost after just a few weeks. The trick to that is to freeze the scraps before putting them in the container. This damages the cell walls of the food scraps and the stuff breaks down faster after if thaws.

I should explain that the title of Favorite Sister can be applied to any sister who has done something for me. It changes as the wind blows. Favorite Sister made me my pretty header up there. If Sister #2 or Baby Sister do something nice for me, they will get to be Favorite Sister and the current Favorite Sister will become Sister #3 until she does something nice for me. Now don't think I am being selfish. We all do this. When we are together you will hear things like, "If you bring me a coke, you will be my favorite sister" or this, "If you change my baby's diaper, you will be my favorite sister. " We are all pretty fickle. Fortunately, I have a bunch of great sisters.

Winter Weather One More Time

I know, I know, I cried wolf on Monday and we got nothin. But today, they are saying we are going to freeze and may get snow tonight. It is wet so there will be ice. Right now it is just a cold cold wet rain.

I know my northern and Canadian friends think I am being a big fat baby. Ya'll don't understand. We are unable to handle freezing water in this part of Texas. We can't drive. Our electricity goes out. We don't all have fire places. We have lost our mittens.

The driving is really a problem. We can barely handle cold water. You should have seen us trying to get to the quilt shop in the cold rain today. Some idiot decided to drive 17 miles an hour down the highway. We almost got creamed in the rear by an 18 wheeler because of this moron. Mamala had road rage. She said "Damn" a lot. If we actually get ice on the road we all will slide all over the place. Into ditches, into each other, into our garage doors. It's pretty much a pick-up-truck drivin rodeo.

We can't stand up on ice either. There will be booty bruises. It is kind of fun to stand at the back window and watch my neighbors fall down.

I'm staying home.

If I had a super power, it would be the ability to control the weather.

What would your super power be?

This Will Explain A Lot

She gave an Oscar Party and made me put on a dress.

She wanted it to be fun. I think a picture tells a thousand words.

Love you Mamala