Feels like Fall

Its one of those days that lets you know that fall is on its way. I like fall. I like to dig out my jeans and sweatshirts and eat chili and have s'mores and bonfires and football.... always football. I like that change of pace and the change in scenery. I told you I was a change kind of girl. That being said, I hate cold. I despise winter. So... before I start griping about how flipping cold it is all the time tickle your senses with my favorite reasons to love fall. Oh and I didn't take these pictures because its not THAT fallish yet.

I love apple cider. I like the unpasteurized stuff that has a little bite to it. Add some mulling spices and some rum and serve it hot and I'm in heaven. I also love apples. Anything crispy and a little bit tart. Every year I say I'm going to go to an orchard and pick some and I never do. This year I'm going to go to an orchard and pick some....

Chili and pumpkin dumb cake. Preferably chili served with rice and cheese followed by the pumpkin cake and served with beer. I have a killer chili recipe that I'm willing to share if you comment and ask. I got it out of Southern Living magazine several years ago and it is super fabulous and goes perfectly with football or bonfires.

Jeans and sweaters or sweatshirts. Scarves. Boots. Anything short of coats and mittens... that would be too cold. Remember I do not like cold, just chilly or crispy with a lot of sun. 

I have no idea who this girl his, but I like her outfit and she has pretty hair. Welcome to my blog girl.

And finally, I like knowing that while its a chilly and sunny 65 degrees today, its going to be 85 again in two days. I'm not ready to let go of summer quiet yet. Then again, I'm not hanging on too tight anymore either. Its Labor Day weekend. Its time.

What is your favorite thing about fall? Do you have a killer recipe that makes you slobber just thinking about it?

All things Birthday

Tomorrow is September the 4th, the day my baby turns 2. Its a big day for her and a big day for me. The crib came down and I didn't even feel close to tears. She talks to her baby dolls and tears things apart faster than I can pick them up. She is a flirt and a temper tantrum throwing little ball of silly. Two seems like such a big number when you're talking about the last of your babies. The oldest is ten. Its a big number too. So are seven and four. They all seem so HUGE now. We have already celebrated twice for the big day with cakes and presents and singing. We should be done, but tomorrow is September the 4th. Tomorrow is the day, and she deserves to have that day to celebrate so we will party in the best way toddlers know how.

We will go to the zoo.


We will eat disgusting pizza at Chuck E Cheese


We will use lots of hand sanitizer because that place screams staph infection !


Then, in true party style, we will leave exhausted and ready to nap. Its a big day at the Devito house!


Happy second birthday Miss Erin.

Its Karma baby

I am a bit of a Parrothead. I know most of the Jimmy Buffett songs by heart, and not just the ones on Songs You know By Heart. One of the songs that makes me smile the widest is One Particular Harbor. 
 Do you have a place where you have never lived but feel completely connected to in your gut? Its a place that holds jars and pockets full of memories that you couldn't replace or ever forget. Growing up, my grandparents always too all of us, my parents, brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles to Destin, Florida every year. We went for spring break to the same condominium, ate at the same restaurants, and did the same things over and over and over. As the years passed, we moved down the beach a few hundred yards. People stopped coming, friends started coming, my kids were born and started going. The place changed and grew up but it still had my heart. I've been to Europe and to the Dominican Republic and British Columbia and those places are fantastic, but the area between Destin and Grayton Beach is my "home". My parents have a place in Grayton Beach now and we're still there sometimes two or three times a year instead of just once. I'm drawn to that strip of the beach, to the water and the smells and the people and the memories.

 

Back in April when the Deepwater Horizon blew up in a blaze that will change the Gulf for what may be decades, whether we can see it or not, my heart broke. Luckily, the beach in the picture was effected by on a few tar balls and not saturated like the poor bayou. My mom was there last week and the waters were green and clear just like they look in the picture - at least on the day it wasn't raining. My kids love this beach like their own back yard and God bless their green little hearts they prayed about it and talked about it with their friends and were ready to go down and scrape up the tar balls with their shovels and pails. 

So, I pulled up cnn.com today and guess what.... another freaking oil platform fire! In the Gulf. Off the coast of Louisiana. Are you seeing the same trend that I see? Wasn't that saying, "Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me"? Thankfully all thirteen of the oil workers were taken to shore safely and according to the article everything was legal and legit, but we have another sheen of oil on top of the water to deal with and they are keeping "a close eye" on the platform as it burns and pours out black smoke. You know what I don't like? I don't like it that they refer to the oil on top of the water as sheen. It sounds nice and pretty, doesn't it? Like its sparkley irradescence is a wanted thing?

You see, I believe in this little thing called Karma. I really, really believe that you can only push things so far before they come back to bite you in the ass and we have long since passed that point. Old Mama Nature is pissed and its all our faults! We've cultivated, cooked, taken, refilled, smoked up, junked up and lubed up this planet for a long time now, and I'm starting to think that she is back and ready to kick some butt. I understand that as humans we have needs and some things are way too convenient for us to just forget about. I have four kids and drive a mini-van for cryin' out loud. Its not like I'm walking the green tight-rope, but come on! I know that we need oil and coal and all of that but to tell me that there aren't any viable options out there makes me think that someone isn't really telling the truth. Which leads me to tell you that yes, I am a conspiracy theorist. I think a lot of the reasons why we don't have more options for other kinds of energy is because some guy is rolling in greenbacks somewhere and he has a lot of power.

While I am a conspiracy theorist, and I have a LOT of weird theories, trust me - I am not an ecology major. I don't have proof. I don't have numbers or statistics or a wide knowledge base but I am smart enough to know two things.

1. Oil and water don't mix!

2. There are no other inhabitable planets in the area and I have four kids who need a place to live.

Change is Good!

Yes, you're in the right place. I changed my template to something a little more shazaam! I might do it again sometime. Just know that its still me. I have a lot of personalities and moods and I change my mind a lot so I get bored easily. I like to change things up and this is a LOT easier than painting my kitchen.  I know I'm breaking blogging rule number 1 by doing this. It confuses people but I promise its still me. I am still thetameone or Megan or Chickie Mama or whoever you think I am.

Fire and Mush

 This isn't a blog about how to cook over a campfire. I've never been camping and I don't really think I want to go because I'm not really a nature kind of girl. I told you before that tall grass brings on anxiety for me and I need to shower every day, and I have curly hair which does NOT do well without gel and a daily shower, etc. I can't do it. Plus, I don't know how to cook mush.

Instead, this is a little blurb about what lights your fire and turns you to mush. Some people call it passion but that word is way too over-used in my opinion. Its like mission statement. I think they are great things to have but now everyone talks about them and I don't want to do it, just to be different. I'll make up a different name for mission statements and then they will be OK again. So take your "passion" and add a little "Mission Statement" and you have your Fire and Mush. Its what burns you up and drives you crazy. Its what makes you cry and want to claw at the world. Its what turns your gears in your brain and kicks your creativity and planning neurons into overdrive.  

The Lorax is my all time favorite book. Miss 7 read it to me this morning before she left for school and hearing it from that sweet little seven year old girl's voice made my day. She smiled over at me the farther she went because she knew I was going to get all choked up when he said, "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. Its not." I sniffle and can barely get the words out every time I read it. I do the same thing with the Polar Express but The Lorax sets me on fire. Have you actually sat down and read a Dr. Seuss book since you've grown up? We've all heard One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish and The Cat in the Hat as kids but to actually READ them again as adults and hear what Mr. Geisel is saying is eye opening. This guy was a genius, not only in his creativity but in his foresight.  I mentioned the X'd out nipples - that came from The Star Belly Sneetches. In that book, Dr. Suess reminds us of the crazy things that people do to fit and how sometimes it takes some intermingling and actually getting to know people before we judge them. He was a civil rights kind of guy.  Or, what about Horton? That elephant had a little Who in his ear or something and he knew he had to take care of him because, "A person's a person, no matter how small."  He, wake up and take care of your neighbors, especially the kiddos!

This leads me to my fire and mush. The greenie in me loves the Lorax because he cares. He knew that chopping down all those Truffula trees was  bad news and he was dead on. He tried to stand up for the Swomee-Swans and the Humming-fish and told the Onceler that Thneeds were just about as ridiculous as a Snuggie.  See, people will buy anything, Thneeds and Snuggies alike, and they forget that the Bar-ba-loots and the Grickle-Grass needs to be there more than we need those ugly blankets with sleeves. We have trouble believing this. I have trouble remembering this every single day when I jump on Uncommon Goods' website or hit Target. I want stuff. I mean, hey, I take my own bag so I'm making up some of the difference, right? The answer is no. I have to remind myself to not buy things just because I don't need them and because its just one more thing I have to throw away eventually. As a side note, I have guilt issues with my trash. I feel terrible throwing tiny pieces of paper away. I'm working on that too. That's my fire. I'm a windmill, recycling, bring your own bag, raise your own eggs type of girl who is petrified of snakes and bugs and tall grass.

Now for the mush. I worked at an alternative school for a long time as a Math teacher. My favorite part of that job was NEVER the teaching part. That was a necessary evil.  I love to sit and talk and have intelligent conversations, and sometimes borderline inappropriate, but entertaining conversations with those kids. They broke my heart and made it stronger every single day. The schools mostly hated them, some of them had trash can parents, they were strung out, ADD, OCD, ODD, conduct disorders, who were often pregnant or drunk or both. They didn't eat anything but pizza rolls and Mountain Dew, they listened to screaming death metal or Tu Pac and I freaking loved them. Well, most of them anyway.  These kids were basically on their last leg of the race. It was succeed with us, or drop out, or go to boy's/girl's school. No one wanted to look into why they didn't do their work or care about school, or why they were cutting themselves, or why they were smoking pot every single night. They just wanted them to stop and pass the damn ISTEP test!



My kids faced this last night at the dinner table. I asked them about school. I got the typical, "Its was fine." for an answer until I asked about the kids in their class.  We talked about a pen pal project that was coming up when Ryan (10) told me that his sister could write to Austin in foster care. He told me that his mom sent him to foster care because he got in too much trouble. That's when I knew this was going to end badly.  I asked if he was in trouble at school and he told me no. Austin was always quiet and he cried a lot. After a short conversation it came down to Austin's mom hit him with a stick and broke his arm. That was the end of my dinner. I was crying at the dinner table and even just thinking about it now I have tears in my eyes again. I swear on all that is holy that if I ever find out who that mom is and bump into her, I'm going to break her own freaking arm!! Kenny was flipped out and told the kids that if they EVER had a friend with bruises or who told them things they were required to tell us or their teacher or someone ASAP. I haven't quit thinking about poor Austin in foster care and how his life is in shambles. He can pick up and make things different for himself but he's got a rough road ahead of him for a 10 year old little boy. Great - I'm crying. See, I'm mushy. I hate it when this happens but you give me a kid, almost any kid and they can make me cry.

So, what is your Fire and what is your mush? Those two were just two examples for me vacations and great books and things are fire too, but its a different kind of fire. These shape me. What shapes you?

Check out Nessa's blog

On Tuesdays I'm lucky enough to be able to jump over and blog for Ramblings of a Texas Housewife .  You should jump on over there and check out today's post and her other posts. She is a sweetheart and she has been so amazingly helpful and generous in getting my blog up and running.

Go on... scoot!!

Domestic Experimentation Day

You know those days when you wake up to chaos. This morning I woke up at 7:13 to a dead quiet house. Niiiice, right?. WRONG! The bus comes at 7:23 and the kids were still in bed snoring away. THAT is how my day started and I can tell you that its been a little intense ever since.  I took them to school and came home to the little Miss who was moved into a big girl bed last night. She was happy because without the bars, you can play, and get up and run around until almost midnight with no problem. You can climb the ladder and wake up your sister. You can flip the lights on and off. Its an amazing amount of freedom when you're almost two. Needless to say, after partying like a toddler rock star last night, she was tired. And grouchy. And whiny. And impossible to please.  Its nap time right now. I've got $30 that says she is downstairs playing toys and not in her bed. I'm going to go check.....

I eat my words. She's out cold! Whoot!! Time to pretend to be domestic.

Today's agenda begins with making salsa for Miss 1's birthday party on Wednesday.  I went out before the mercury shot right out the top of my thermometer this morning and picked some pablano peppers and tomatoes. I'd like to say that my greenie self made this completely organic and home grown salsa, but I bought the onion at the grocery and I'm probably going to throw in some canned stuff and some heavily sprayed cilantro because mine always dies.  Maybe I should try what this little town just to the north of me has been doing.

DISCLAIMER: This story might make you nauseous. Grab your barf bag.

The hubs is an asphalt and excavating superintendent. He meets all kinds of people and his crews have been doing a job in a little town I'll call Ewwville. Yes, that was another Dr. Seuss reference - Whoville, Ewwville. Sneeches and people with x'ed out nipples... Anyway....

He was in Ewwville talking to the head of the town. He's not really the mayor or the town council, but he kind of runs the place up there. Its a tiny little fly speck where they have some interesting people. It seems that during the conversation, Mr. Ewwville,  happened to let it out that their waste water treatment facility is using HUMAN WASTE *gags* to fertilize things. Now, I don't know about you, but chicken shit and pig shit is one thing, but Bob's shit is entirely another.

After this uber disgusting conversation about spreading the waste, Mr. Ewwville leads the hubs over to a pile of you know what, and guess what, he's growing veggies randomly all over some six foot high pile of sludge. Tomatoes, squash, melons, beans all covered in Ewwville waste. He picks the tomato and tosses it to Kenny and says, "Here, try it. Its the best tomato you'll ever eat." Hell no!!

See, here is the difference. I have some amazing veggies in my garden because I have super chickens who provide me with an endless supply of poop. They poop a lot for their size and they make green peppers grow like weeds. They eat chicken food, grass, bugs, veggies and water.  Mr. Ewwville's tomato was grown covered in Bob, Jane, Joe, Helen, and Bubba's poop. They eat God knows what, shoot heroin, take a mound of illegal and legal drugs, have hepatitis and who knows what else. Sorry buddy but the last thing I want to do is eat your tomato.  That is just WRONG!

 

My tomatoes.

I suppose its legal and all of that and probably considered organic and good for me but knowing that makes me gag. I'll stick to my nice fat veggies from the can and freezer sections of the Kroger store before I want to think about eating sludge squash.  I mean, if it can't even wash into a river without restrictions, how can we grow things in it that we want to eat? Am I way off base here?  OK, I was supposed to be making salsa wasn't I...

So, salsa, laundry, dust, make a mountain of things to sell in a garage sale so I can buy Christmas gifts for my kids who already have way too many things (anti-green), put primer on the doll house (also anti-green), figure out what to feed my family for dinner. Is hot dogs and organic tomatoes too far split? The list is long and its not going to complete itself so I should wrap this up. Here's the question, as if I really have to ask...

How do you feel about eating food grown on sludge?

A Thin Line between Love and Insanity

Photo courtesy of Google Images and swimandtri.com

I love swimming. I really do. I had that magnet on the back on the back of my silver mom-mobile up until Miss almost 2 flung it off to who knows where. I miss that magnet because it sums up two things that take up most of my time. A couple of years ago the backs of our t-shirts for winter swimming said, 

"If I have one day to live take me to a swim meet because they last forever." 

 Its true. They are super long and I usually enjoy every single second of the coaching, parenting and watching. This guy, Lewis Pugh, might be on that same wave-length just a little down stream. (pun intended). Check out this crazy man!

Diving into the Coldest Water on Earth

I said I love swimming. He says, "I want to swim until the last day of my life." Well, that's super admirable but let me clue you in on something there Lew; diving into water that is 29 degrees Fahrenheit, (FYI, oceans are salty so they don't freeze at 32 ) might just make that wish come true for you. The point of this extreme case of Polar Bear swimming was that you shouldn't be able to swim across the North Pole because its supposed to be frozen. Just ask Santa. 

See what I mean, its frozen, but not so much anymore. Now a days its a little more open water than it was when this picture was taken. (I'm kidding. I know it's not a real picture. Humor my inner child please.)  Its more like the last night on the Titanic. To prove just that, Lew dove in and swam that kilometer God bless his crazy little heart.

I love this guy! I love it that he bothered to put on a cap. He's willing to swim to prove a point about the environment. He may have taken all those mild greenie thoughts I have about chickens and growing my own tomatoes and stretched them just about as far as they could go. Try to imagine what that would be like. Take a bowl of water and put ice in it then soak your hand for 28 minutes or so. Oh, and that's not even close to as cold as it was for him! He couldn't feel his hands for 4 stinking months! 

So, the man is going to swim himself into the record books because he has also swam the Thames, the Indian Ocean, the English Channel, in some lake at the top of Mt. Everest, and a bunch of other place. Here I am drilling times and technique on not only my own kids but on the kids I coach when I should have been focusing on endurance and mental capacity! I wonder what kind of drills they have to prepare yourself for swimming in icy water. I should Google that.

There is a very thin line between love and insanity and this guy may have crossed it. I think he's amazing. I love why he did it, the fact that he survived and that he wants to swim until he dies. I'm not sure which side of the line he's on, and I'm not going to be jumping into the Arctic Ocean anytime before I die (I hate to be cold and cold weather!) but I'm all over coach the team that is willing. Gather them up Lewis and give me a call. Kudos to you crazy man!