New England Mamas

When the rain stops in for a few days

We have had a series of amazingly fun thunderstorms. Fun? Oh yes, we are big fans of the thunderstorm in my family. Especially when it's steaming hot outside and all of a sudden a front moves in, the sky starts to rumble (my son used to think it was God farting) and the lighting puts on a fabulous show. As soon as we hear the first of the thunder, we're likely to hightail it onto our front porch, which is screened in and overlooks the hill we live on right down to the street.

Across the big expanse of lawn we can see the first droplets hit the treetops, and then we count to see if we can guess exactly when the downpour will begin. Once it does, we move as close to the steps as we can, so we can stand right under the waterfall of rain from the porch roof without getting wet. The water falls in sheets there because our gutters, well they kinda suck. But that's OK because we LIKE the way the water falls.

As the rain pours down, the ground can't absorb the amount of water and puddles start to occur. First one right in front of the steps, and then as the rain continues, a river begins to take shape flowing down our driveway. We're on a big hill with a long drive that curves in the middle, and watching the river accumulate is like watching the Mississippi overflow it's banks in miniature. It's a wonderful lesson in erosion, too. The sides of the driveway start to crumble and little bits of the dirt wash away with each storm.

The lightening shows we get here are wonderful. The crack and boom of each forked bit of electricity makes the afternoon sky, all filled with gray clouds and dark ominous rain clouds light up like a county fairgrounds. When the lightening  first starts to light up the sky, we count the seconds until we hear the rumble of the thunder. This tells us how far away the storm is. As it gets closer we all get excited. The kids run from the back porch to the front porch to see which side of the house will get the first drops. Sometimes they'll stick their hands out from underneath the porch roof just to get wet.

If it's hot enough, I'll take my big golf umbrella and just walk out into the storm on our front lawn. It's a grand way to cool off if the storm is not actually overhead. I like to walk in the puddles barefoot and feel like I"ma little kid again.

The rain comes and goes all summer. Right now we've had a storm every day, and soon it will be hot and dry again. I'll miss the rain, but it will return for another viewing very soon. That's one of the great joys of living in New England.

Stay Cool!

(Didn't you just hate that pat expression written over and over again in our H.S. yearbooks? Or did you help perpetuate the phrase yourself?)

Ugh! It's been so dang hot lately! And guess what?! Neither my nor Hubby's car has working A/C! Yee haw!

Still - we drove an hour and a half this past weekend to a cousin's graduation party in Franklin, MA.

Today I drove for close to an hour up to a meeting in Concord, NH.

Luckily, Hubby's got a job not too far from our house this week. But in recent weeks, he's had to drive as much as an hour+ to get to the job.

And to think! Last year, late August, we three drove all the way to Hershey, PA! With no A/C! And there Sweetie was in the backseat, covering herself completely with a wool blanket, just to amuse herself during the long trip.

My memory may be tricking me some, but I really don't think it was as hot during that trip last year as it has been here these last few days.

Thank goodness that it seems tomorrow will be much cooler. About 15 degrees cooler, in fact! Still hot, mind you, but much more manageable.

Stay cool, everyone!

Hello, Summer!

Holy frijole!  Is it hot in here or WHAT? While I'm not quite old enough for menopause, I managed a pretty good imitation as I ran errands today.  Popping between the car and the stores, I sported a shiny and flushed face, sweat dripping between my boobs, and severe irritability toward, oh...  everyone else on the planet.

The fact is, I am not a Summer Person, and that is because I am a Sweaty Person.  If you are also a Sweaty Person, you have my sympathy, and I know you share my pain as well.  I am an example of the unfortunate sub-type of Sweaty People that sweat mostly on their heads.  I sweat normally on the rest of my body, but my scalp is out of control.  More than once I have been captured in summer party photos looking like someone dumped a bucket of water on my head while my armpits are miraculously dry.  It's lovely, trust me.

This is actually one of the few things I'm truly self-conscious about, so a while back I did some research to see if anything could help me.  I'd been to one too many elegant functions held outside on a hot day and spent far too much time running to the bathroom to pat down my forehead with paper towels.  On these summer evenings, I was acutely conscious of the flush on my face and the sweat trickling down in front of my ears as I nibbled hors d'oeuvres.   As if high heels on gently sloping lawns aren't torture enough, I always end up using a finger to discretely squeegee off my cheekbones.

A few years back, a friend of mine (who is a nurse) took one look at my sodden state and said, "Whoa!  Hyperhidrosis!"   Because I am a well-educated, rational woman, I immediately went home and Googled it.  Yes, it is a real condition.  No, I don't think I'll be having microsurgery done on my SPINE to cut a tiny nerve ending to stop it.

I'm not someone who has embraced the concept of aging well at any cost.  I wince when the gossip rags show pictures of actresses sporting brand new pouts, and like many people, worry about what popular culture in this country is promoting as "beautiful."  I'm not anti-plastic surgery, per se, because I know several women who have had procedures and I was thrilled for them when the results were so positive. But guess what is used for sufferers of hyperhidrosis?  Botox injections in the scalp, which paralyze the nerves that send "We need more sweat up here!" messages to the sweat glands.  Yeah, I'm kind of ambivalent about that one, too. 

Another option is high-potency aluminum chloride antiperspirant gel you can apply to the affected area, but again - not a fan of the neurotoxins!  Or of the "burning and irritation that may occur." Ouch. Oh, wait!  There is also a handy pill, made up of various herbal ingredients in "strict proportion," which would only run me $160 for a two month supply.  After tracking down the common names for some of those ingredients, I discovered most are common herbs and spices, but one of them is this stuff:

Latin Names : Cateria lacca... English Name : Lac insect  

The most common and widely occurring species of lac insect in India is Laccifer lacca... which produces the bulk of commercial lac. Lac is the resinous protective secretion of the tiny lac insect. The major constituent of sticklac is the resin (70-80%); other constituents present are: sugar, proteins, and soluble salts, coloring matter, wax, sand, woody matter, insect bodies and other extraneous matter...

Huh. 

Looks like it's up to me to start a brand new, back-to-the-future fashion craze.  Handkerchiefs or bandanas, anyone?

Lets talk about gardening, shall we?

There are few people hardier than the New England gardener. Whether you grow vegetables, perennials, or just a few annuals, gardening here in the 6 New England states can be tantamount to an exercise in frustration.

We have poor soil. Ahem. Actually the soil is really rich and dark. Unfortunately, it's not overly abundant. What we do have in abundance are rocks. We're very lucky to have plenty of rocks. Granite, after all, is a New England resource.

We have cold weather. Most people want to get the garden in May 1st. In reality, most people can't get the entire garden in until June 1st. It rains a lot in May, and it seems that it rains on weekends  when we have more time to garden than any other days of the week.

We have really  hot weather in June. New England isn't known for it's gorgeous spring. Mostly because we really don't have spring. We have mud season. It goes from freezing cold to rainy and cold to hella hot. So gardening means working very early in the morning or in the late afternoon. The two times I have the least amount of energy possible.

We have a ridiculously short growing season. In North Carolina you can put in a bunch of tomatoes in February and watch them keep producing until December. That's a lot of tomatoes. But here in New England, that's just a pipe dream. We plant in June, in August we get tomatoes, by October the plants have been killed by frost. It's quite the ego bust to think you're going to get enough tomatoes to make pots of sauce. We all need greenhouses!

But even with the weather, the short growing season, and the crappy soil New Englanders take to gardening like a moth to a flame. I've been gardening for years, and the only place I've ever been successful is in New England. I don't know how to garden in clay soil or where it's hot for 8 months out of the year. I'm not used to the bugs that the midwest offers. Or the snakes in Florida.

I grow what is called a salad garden, consisting of lettuce, tomatoes, cukes, zucchini, yellow peppers, and a lot of herbs. I love fresh herbs and believe that herbs make a huge amount of difference in my cooking.

I also put pots of petunias and zinneas and other annuals around the patio. But my greatest love is my perennial garden. Every year I am suckered in to buying even more perennials. It's not that I don't have the room, because everyone should be as lucky as I am for large plots of sunny land. I could put in an acre of perennials if I wanted to. It's that perennials are expensive and you get no return for your investment other than flowers and beauty. I know that these are important, and nothing pleases me more than when the garden is in bloom, but it's hard to justify paying a lot of money for a flowering shrub when you could be spending that money on vegetable plants.

But I'm never going to stop buying and growing perennials because I'm an addict. I admit it. My name is Margalit and I'm a perennial addict. There! I've admitted it.

Now it's your turn. What does your garden grow?

Rain, Rain, Go Away... NOT!

Yes, I know.  You think I am insane.  All the dampness here in New England must have affected my brain!  The rot and mildew is setting in!

I have one word for you to explain my love for the rainy days we've been having: allergies.  Last year at this time, my poor little Peanut was hit with a tidal wave of pollen.  You may remember that it stayed cold for a long time last spring, and then BOOM - warmed up and stayed really warm and dry for a while? 

The allergist told us it was going to be a terrible year because everything that would normally bloom over a span of weeks or months bloomed at the same time instead.  It hit so hard and so fast, we ended up in the E.R.  a few days after the warm weather started, with Peanut wheezing and needing a nebulizer treatment to set him right.

The rest of the summer was the same.  My boy is allergic to a lot of thing, just a few of which are trees, weeds, and grass, and the weather pattern last year made it impossible to even play outside for parts of the summer.  It really sucked, loading him up with prescriptions and nasal sprays and eye drops, only to watch him rub his eyes and ask to go back inside on a beautiful summer day.

This spring has been really different so far.  The rain has come, and gone, and come again, and each time it has washed away a ton of pollen.  This morning dawned sunny and bright, and despite trying to keep the house as allergy proof as possible, I couldn't resist opening the windows in a burst of optimism. 

It was lovely, and I enjoyed the breeze even as I began thinking I should probably close up the house and run the air conditioning, but then the skies darkened.  The rain has been threatening to come down again this afternoon, and I'm loving it.  Our family is singing a new song these days: 

"Rain, rain, don't stay away! 
Come back and wash the pollen away!"

___________________________

Cross posted at A Smeddling Kiss

While The Mama's at Work...

This past Friday was a rather trying day for me, work-wise. Not that I wasn't able to keep myself together and my duties as orderly as possible, mind you. Nonetheless, it was - shall we say - a long, 12 hour work day with barely a moment to breath.

And while I toiled away in my office cube, where do you think my little Sweetie and darling Hubby were? If you guessed gallivanting around York Beach, ME with friends on a beautiful spring day, you'd be right.

Lucky guys.

Yes, that's right. Hubby had an unplanned day off from work, and his friend from Portland just "happened" to take a personal day too. So the two of them, plus Sweetie and the friend's 3-year old daughter, got to go play all day while the Mamas worked.

Yippee for them.

Honestly, though - I'm told a fabulous time was had by all. There was a Hubby-proclaimed awesome playground at the beach for the girls to play in and the beach itself was not too big nor too crowded on that particular day. And, of course, Hubby was thrilled to get some quality "Man Time" with his buddy he doesn't get to see as often as he'd like.

Fortunately, Hubby also reports that this beach is only about 1 hour, 15 minutes from our So. NH location - so he's very excited for the three of us to visit there as often as possible in the coming summer months.

Okay! You bet!

'Cuz actually participating in a fun beach day with you and Sweetie sure would be a lot more enjoyable than hearing about it after a long, stressful day at work.

Spring scenes from Boston

Is there anything more beautiful than the sight of Spring blooming in the city?

Here are some recent shots of blooming Beantown:

... just the kind of scenes to make you forget the harsh New England winters!

The post where I complain about life

You would think that I would have nothing to complain about. The weather is finally spectacular, the bulbs are up and smiling prettily at all who walk by, the shrubs that were seemingly dead all winter have come alive with flowers, and even the trees are showing signs of life once again.

Yeah, you would think so. But no... I'm going to complain about the pollen. Because the prettier it is outside, the more miserable my entire family is. We have allergies. Allergies to pollen. Especially tree pollen. We all look like we've been smoking blunts all day. Our eyes are swollen and red. They itch like crazy. Our faces are slightly swollen, too. We sound like we all have sore throats. Oh, that's because we DO have sore throats. Worst of all, we're all exhausted. For some sick reason, the allergies drain every ounce of strength out of our bodies.

My kids, usually serious night owls, are taking naps and going to bed by 10. No matter how much sleep they get, they're wiped. I'm even worse. I can't seem to wake up out of my stupor. I mean it, my sofa and I have become one. The only time I can ever remember being this exhausted was during my twin pregnancy. At least then I had two parasites sucking the life force out of me. Now, I just have mean old trees attacking my very reason for being.

Plus, if the exhaustion and the itchy eyes aren't enough, my children, they are horrible. They're rarely pleasant on a good day. They're teenagers. They're supposed to be horrid. But my God, my daughter is getting on my very last nerve. Because I have the unmitigated gall to ask her to help in the kitchen. I KNOW! What kind of a bitch am I? What is WRONG with me?

Last night I asked her to make the chicken soup for our Passover seder. Making chicken soup isn't hard. In fact, it's so easy it's ridiculous. This is how it went:

M: First you get the chicken and put it in the sink.
G: You mean I have to touch it?
M: Um, yes. Yes you do.
G: Gross! I'm not touching that.
(Stomps off to get something and comes back with cleaning lady's disposable gloves. Brings chicken to the sink)
M: Now take the wrapper off and rinse the chicken.
G: I have to TOUCH IT? With my hands? No way.
M: Oh, shut up and do it.
G: grumble grumble under her breath grumble
M: Put the chicken in the pot and fill it with water until it covers the chicken and then an inch over.
G: How much water?
M: I just told you.
G: I wasn't listening.
(repeats instructions)
M: Now go into the fridge and get out the carrots you peeled this morning and the celery. Oh, and one of the big onions.
G: grumble grumble  I can't find the celery.
M: It's in the fridge,  I just used some this morning.
G: It's ROTTEN.
M: No it isn't. It just has one brown stalk. Throw it away and the rest is fine.
G: I'm not touching that. It's ROTTEN, it's gross.
M: It is NOT rotten, take it out of the fridge.
G: No, I'm not touching it.
M: I'm really  losing my temper. Just take it out of the fridge.
(Still wearing gloves, she picks it up with her pincer grab and makes all sorts of gross noises like she's dying, but eventually gets good stalks to cut up.)
M: Now put the onion, celery and carrots in the pot.
G: I have to CUT UP THE ONION?
M: (Weary voice) YES, you have to cut the onion or it won't fit in the pot.
G: But I'll cry.
M: You're gonna cry if I have to get up and do it for you.
(She cuts onion and puts it in the pot)
G: Now what?
M: Get the parsley and the dill out of the fridge.
G: I don't know what dill looks like.
M: For God's sake, it's in the same bag as the parsley.
G: It's a plant. I hate plants.
M: Put 1/2 of each bunch in the soup pot and SHUT UP.
M: Now add some salt and pepper.
G: How much salt and pepper.
M: Like a teaspoon of salt and a bit less of pepper.
G: OK, now what?
M: turn on the burner to high, let it boil, and then turn it down to low to cook.
G: You mean I have to stay here and watch it?
M: YES YOU DO.
G: I'm marrying someone that knows how to cook because I'm not doing it. I hate cooking. 

By the time we were through that exercise I was exhausted and ticked off. Honestly, why make something so difficult? But that's my girl.

Have a happy and sweet Passover to those that celebrate!

What Do You Do To Feel Healthy, Free and Full of Life?

I don't know about you, but we go to our friendly neighborhood cemetery for some good ol' fashioned exercise.

Daddy runs laps, Sweetie scoots laps, and I simply lap up the fresh air and sunshine.

Oh, how I love the spring!

Happy First Day of Spring! (Where's the green?)

Spring starts today - that's what the calendar says, anyways. Of course, the gray, windy, weather may beg to differ.

This morning, as I was bundling up the kids and muttering something to myself about March being the cruelest month, forget April *grumble, grumble* my three year old son picked up a discarded catalog from the recycling pile.

"Mama, mama, look, look, you should buy this!" he said excitedly as he pushed a J. Crew catalog between me and his baby brother.

He was pointing at the back cover, where patent leather peep toe shoes mocked me.

"Oh sweetie," I said dumping the catalog so I could bend over and lace up my sensible waterproof shearling boots, "I don't need shoes like that. It's too cold."

"But the green ones are pretty for you Mama! And it will be nice and warm - soon!"

Hang in there Mamas. Spring is on its way. Soon.