Author Archives: Cabol

Mar 11 2008

X Months

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At our family meeting this weekend, I asked Anya for her monthly list of achievements. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and pondered deeply. After a few moments passed with nothing but a slurpy sucking sound disturbing the silence, Anya wiggled a little, clapped her feet together, and then blew a raspberry at me.

Now, if I acted that way at my performance evaluations at work, I would probably get fired or put on probation or at the very least told not to spray everyone with saliva. But, since Anya is pretty cute, I let it pass. I asked her again what she had accomplished this month, “I have to put it on the blog, you know!”

She didn’t even glance at me this time…she just thoughtfully examined a hairy cheerio on the floor.

What I’m trying to say here, people, is that I don’t really have a list this month. Anya’s agent (a small, grey bunny covered in slobber, baby tylenol, and prune guts) informed me that Anya is “on sabbatical” from learning new tricks and will maybe put together something new for us all next month. This past month, according to the bunny, Anya has been working to refine her existing talents and to explore various ways to perfect new skills.

So, if you came here expecting to read that Anya took her first step, learned how to use a spoon, or wrote a lovely symphony, I’m afraid you’ll be a bit disappointed. If you came here for a few pictures, I can do that. (Just don’t tell the bunny; I don’t think our contract allows public dissemination of photos without prior approval.)

A Portrait of Anya as a 10-Month-Old

Anya Reads Her New Contract Before Signing

Anya Teaches Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Chris about Shepherding

Mar 9 2008

Rest in Peace

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Farewell, Leigh. I hope you’ve finally found peace and light. Andy and I will make sure to tell Anya all about her Grandpa: Bounce-to-the-Ounce, snails, sweater vests, Captain Leigh, nurblies, hot peppers, and all the rest of your wackiness.

Leigh Volker 1946-2008

Feb 23 2008

Five Things

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Nancy at Keeping the Farm tagged us to post five things about ourselves.

Five Things About Cabol

1. I don’t have a favorite color. For a while it was green. Then when I met Andy, his love for purple infected me, too. But now, I can’t really say any one color is my favorite. It really just depends.

2. I only have half a nail on my left big toe. Which half? The middle half. When I was in high school I had some toenail problems, and both sides of the nail were killed off in two separate and excrutiatingly painful procedures. In one of them, I have a very vivid memory of the main doctor sitting at a computer playing video games while the student doctor did the procedure. At one point, main doctor checks up on student doctor and says, “No, no! Jam it in farther!”

3. I love composting. I really love vermicomposting. It’s like having a few thousand cute, wiggly pets who never have to go to the vet, don’t need any grooming, and eat for free. At my last job, I somehow convinced them to let me keep a worm bin in my office and eventually convinced several other floors to set up worm bins, too. The year I kept track, my floor composted a ton of organic waste. (Not all of that went into the worm bins. I took some home ’cause worms are kind of tiny and can only eat so much.) I was sometimes called The Worm Lady of Fleming.

4. The Little Prince bothers me intensely. A little kid living on a planet about the size of a VW bug? What does he eat? Where does he poo? How can the thing even have gravity or an atmosphere? Who cuts his hair? Where did his clothes come from? It’s just plain freaky. Nothing quite bothered me in the same way until those creepy caveman commercials came out. What the heck are cavemen doing here? And, ya know, even if they somehow managed to get frozen and then thawed out recently, they wouldn’t be all educated and well groomed and standing upright. It’s just wrong. Utterly wrong.

5. I took five or six years of French class, and all I can really remember is how to ask if your goldfish are wearing pantyhose.

I tag Andy, Anya, and Larry to post five things about themselves.

Feb 16 2008

We have floor!

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Before Andy was struck down by the mighty gods of bronchitis, he put in many hours of sweat and toil in our bedroom. He almost got all the flooring down, and it looks really great. Anya thinks it is pretty nifty, too, and likes how the walls match her outfit.

I think there are about two rows left to go, but they are the most difficult because that side of the room is where the weird angle walls are. We also need to get a threshold to go down between the bedroom and the rest of the basement. Eventually the rest of the basement will have the same flooring, but we won’t put it in until we build the kitty room and get the kitty boxes out of the basement.

Speaking of floors, Anya can now slide around on them a bit. In reverse. She can also do this neat thing where she puts her arms over her head and bounces. I’m not sure why her arms have to be over her head for her to bounce, but it seems to work and helps her move a few inches.

Feb 15 2008

Months, Nine

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Nine months. Three quarters of a year. Lots and lots of minutes. It’s been a month of sickness here at Loafkeeper Farm. Andy is battling bronchitis, Anya trounced an ear infection, and I’m dueling with a cough that just won’t toss in the towel. Don’t worry; you can’t catch our germs through the blog, so you can keep reading.

This month Anya…

+ Got the knack of the clap. She loves to clap. She claps, and then she claps to applaud her clapping. I clap, and she claps to tell me I did a good job. Andy burps; Anya claps. Larry eats a pea; Anya claps. She’s very encouraging and will make a great manager some day.

+ Discovered the joy of The Raspberry. When she first learned how to Pblblblblbbllb, she did it ALL the time. Even when she had a cheerio in her mouth. Or a pea. Even when she was falling asleep. Plllllbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….zzzzzz….zzzzz. I’m not sure which is better: Smooshy Face or Raspberry Face. I’d let you vote, but I don’t think we’ve captured a Raspberry Face yet.

+ Read Cat in the Hat (with some help from me). She thinks Things 1 and 2 are very naughty and should have to sit in time out.

+ Said the following (and then Andy said): Bonzai! (Look, it’s a cat!); It’s a chicken! (No, that’s your foot).

+ Ate lots and lots of cheerios. Lots. And peas. And popcorn butts (you know, the soft part).

+ Decided that crawling is for babies. She will skip that and walk. No, she can’t walk, but every night she and her Daddy practice standing (Andy’s pretty good at it). She’s still practicing crawling, too, because her bff, Emma, can crawl and has told Anya all about how yummy DCP’s silk curtains are.

Feb 8 2008

Happy Birthday, Mommy!

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Happy Birthday to you!
Haaaaaaaappppy birthday to yooooou!
HAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPY BIRRRRRRRRRRRTHDAY DEAR MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMY!
Happy birthday toooooo you!

Here’s your cake!

Anya is wearing her party hat and waiting for you to get here so the festivities can start!

Feb 2 2008

Woodsy

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Andy finished repainting our dresser. I’m not sure if he’s going to do the mirror.

With the green walls, I think the room is looking sort of woodsy. Next weekend we hope to get the floors put in and get started on the trim. After that the only thing that really needs to be done is replacing the light fixture, but we aren’t really sure what we’ll put in. I’d love to have a ceiling fan, but the ceiling is sort of low. Another issue is that the current fixture was put in to be centered in the basement as a whole. Now it’s way off to the side in our room. We should probably move the electricity stuff before putting in a new fixture, but I think Andy is sick of messing with drywall for a while.

We’d also like to find some groovy new sheets and a groovy new duvet cover. I think with the woodsy-ness that we have going on, we should try to find some sheets with deer on them. I know they make flannel sheets with deer. Don’t know about regular sheets. Hm. And for the duvet cover, I’m thinking bugs. Like maybe a print with a swarm of japanese beetles on it.

Jan 28 2008

Good, Bad, and Undecided

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Good: Things are afoot with my work stuff. I can’t say anything right now because I’m not sure what’s really going to happen, but hopefully things will be improving soon.

Bad: The truck is sick and needs a bunch of work done.

Undecided: Should we dump our cable tv?

Good: We’ll be getting a large tax return soon.

Bad: We’ll be spending a large portion of it to fix the truck.

Undecided: Have we adjusted our withholdings properly, so we don’t loan the government so much money this year?

Good: There is cookie dough in the fridge at home.

Bad: All the cookie sheets are dirty.

Undecided: If I make cookies on the cookie sheet that garlic bread was made on last night, will the cookies be garlicky?

Jan 26 2008

Oatmeally goodness

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Anya likes her some oatmeal, oh yeah. I take a mug of oatmeal in the car on the way to work each day, and often I will give Anya some. I’ve never, however, given her some oatmeal of her very own. This morning Anya looked at me and said, “Yo, Mom, I want oatmeal. Why don’t you put it in that groovy frog bowl Auntie Kimmie gave me?”

I thought this sounded like a great idea, so I made up a wee batch of oatmeal and put it in her groovy frog bowl and gave it to her along with the matching froggie-green spoon. Anya dug in. I helped a little by spooning some into her mouth from time to time and by giving her helpful hints linke, “Don’t blow raspberries when you’ve got oatmeal in your mouth.” Soon the bowl was empty, and Anya had worked up such an appetite eating her oatmeal that she needed a bottle.

Jan 25 2008

Doppelganger

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There’s a lady in my Master Gardener (MG) class who reminds me far too much of Evil Coworker (EC) from my last job. EC pretty much made my last job a living Hell, so you can probably imagine that seeing her twin (ECT) show up at MG training was unsettling. ECT has the same build, facial features, haircut, glasses, little string that holds the glasses on, and way of moving as EC. That would be bad enough, but ECT also has the exact same air of superiority that made me want to strangle EC.

I’m trying to tell myself, whenever the urge to strangle ECT arises, that I don’t know this new lady. She’s quite possibly very nice. It’s not her fault she so closely resembles EC that I am tempted to approach her and ask her if she has any relatives in Michigan. This internal conversation isn’t working too well so far. No, I haven’t tried to wrap my hands around her throat, but I cringe each and every time I see her or hear her speak. Maybe I can convince her to dye her hair hot pink or to slouch a little bit in her chair instead of perching on the edge of it as though each and every vertebrae in her body was fused together?