Good Bye For Now

Sometime this week, and I suspect sooner than later, I will lose my internet because of the pesky packers that are coming tomorrow to pack our house up to move us to Colorado.

Actually, they aren’t pesky, I love them because if they pack, that means I don’t have to.

Anywhoo, no matter who packs us up, at some point it is inevitable that I will have to do without the internet, and therefore, you, for up to a week.

I plan on taking lots of pictures of the chaos to post when I arrive at the other end of this journey to Colorado. There should be lots to write about because the four of us and our little Shih-tzu, Kobi, will be driving across the country starting around Thursday.

In the meantime, if any of you are interested, I plan on Twittering the whole event. If you’re not following me, you can start by looking for me under the name: IThrowLikeaGirl on twitter.com

If you want to try to respond to any of my tweets, you can DM (direct message) me because I have set up my BlackBerry to receive DM’s. At least I think I have. I’ll need someone to actually DM me to know if it worked. (Thank you Antique Mommy, it worked!)

See ya when we get out west!

Hugs!

All The Goodbyes

When we first found out we were moving to Denver, I was feeling a little guilty to be so excited about it. We’ve lived in New Jersey for 10 years now (the longest place we’ve lived in the 23 year history of our marriage) and I/we have so many great friends, neighbors, and memories.

Yet, thinking about moving  to Denver was exciting. My husband has 3 siblings and his mother that we will now be living near. We lived in the Denver area about 15 years ago and we still have friends that we are in touch with. And did I mention that Colorado is beautiful?

So back in March, April, and May if you asked me about the move I felt very brave and excited about it, yet still a tad guilty for not being sad enough about leaving NJ. How sad is sad enough, BTW?

(Have I ever told you that I am one-half Italian? Guilt is an ethnic trait of Italians.)

Well, I guess I worried about not being sad enough too soon because as soon as June hit, the countdown to the Big Move started, and the beginning of all the goodbyes began which, naturally, led to all the sadness.

The first  goodbye was to Joyce, my hairdresser. I think only one or two other people in New Jersey has ever cut my hair. She has seen my hair long, short, and in-between. She introduced me to the wonderful world of highlights to hide the gray. Our sons have grown up together, only they didn’t know it. Joyce and I have traded stories about our sons every 6-8 weeks for the better part of 10 years. My last cut was June 4th.

And so it goes all around my town. I picked up my last load from the dry cleaners this week, and the Chinese woman who owns the shop (her name is Gina and I’m pretty sure that’s not the name her parents gave her) said “See you next time!” but I realized there won’t be a “next time” and I had to say goodbye to her.

But even more difficult than saying goodbye to all the familiar faces of the shopkeepers and bank tellers who I now know by name, is saying goodbye to my dear, dear friends whom I have done life with these 10 years.

I have by no means been able to contact every single person who has impacted my life in a meaningful way during our time in New Jersey, but I have been able to spend some time with some very special people in the last few weeks and days.

This has been a very tender time and I have not really been able to process it all properly because in the middle of all the goodbyes were the septic system replacement, cleaning and showing our home for sale, house hunting in Colorado, making no less than 5 offers on homes with nothing working out (well, I think this one will work, but I won’t stop holding my breath until after the appraisal), endless phone calls arranging this that and the other, and now, finally, actually packing up and moving out of the home where my little boy and little girl became a young man and a young woman.

There is a lump in my throat that I know is only going to grow as this week goes on and we pull out of our driveway for the last time on Thursday night.

I know that once the packers and the movers have done their jobs, and this house is empty, I will be able to close my eyes and remember all the friends that have graced our doorway, all the Christmas trees that brightened our family room, all the Thanksgiving dinners shared with friends and family around the table, and all the random days that have made up our life here for the past ten years.

And I will thank God for every one of them.

I am maybe just one half-step ahead of Costello in understanding my computer.

You have to be old enough to remember Abbott and Costello, and too old to REALLY understand computers, to fully appreciate this. For those of us who sometimes get flustered by our computers, please read on… If Bud Abbott and Lou Costello were alive today, their famous sketch, ‘Who’s on First?’ might have turned out something like this: 

COSTELLO CALLS TO BUY A COMPUTER FROM ABBOTT

ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?

COSTELLO: Thanks. I’m setting up an office in my den and I’m thinking about buying a computer.

ABBOTT: Mac?

COSTELLO: No, the name’s Lou.

ABBOTT: Your computer?

COSTELLO: I don’t own a computer. I want to buy one.

ABBOTT: Mac?

COSTELLO: I told you, my name’s Lou.

ABBOTT: What about Windows?

COSTELLO: Why? Will it get stuffy in here?

ABBOTT: Do you want a computer with Windows?

COSTELLO: I don’t know. What will I see when I look at the windows?

ABBOTT: Wallpaper.

COSTELLO: Never mind the windows. I need a computer and software.

ABBOTT: Software for Windows?

COSTELLO: No. On the computer! I need something I can use to write proposals, track expenses and run my business. What do you have?

ABBOTT: Office.

COSTELLO: Yeah, for my office. Can you recommend anything?

ABBOTT: I just did.

COSTELLO: You just did what?

ABBOTT: Recommend something.

COSTELLO: You recommended something?

ABBOTT: Yes.

COSTELLO: For my office?

ABBOTT: Yes.

COSTELLO: OK, what did you recommend for my office?

ABBOTT: Office.

COSTELLO: Yes, for my office!

ABBOTT: I recommend Office with Windows

COSTELLO: I already have an office with windows! OK, let’s just say I’m sitting at my computer and I want to type a proposal. What do I need?

ABBOTT: Word.

COSTELLO: What word?

ABBOTT: Word in Office.

COSTELLO: The only word in office is office.

ABBOTT: The Word in Office for Windows.

COSTELLO: Which word in office for windows?

ABBOTT: The Word you get when you click the blue ‘W’.

COSTELLO: I’m going to click your blue ‘w’ if you don’t start with some straight answers. What about financial bookkeeping? You have anything I can track my money with?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: That’s right. What do you have?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: I need money to track my money?

ABBOTT: It comes bundled with your computer.

COSTELLO: What’s bundled with my computer?

ABBOTT: Money.

COSTELLO: Money comes with my computer?

ABBOTT: Yes. No extra charge.

COSTELLO: I get a bundle of money with my computer? How much?

ABBOTT: One copy.

COSTELLO: Isn’t it illegal to copy money?

ABBOTT: Microsoft gave us a license to copy Money.

COSTELLO: They can give you a license to copy money?

ABBOTT: Why not? THEY OWN IT!

(A few days later)

ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?

COSTELLO: How do I turn my computer off?

ABBOTT: Click on ‘START’…………..

Worship Song Sunday ~ Revelation Song by Kari Jobe

Wordless Wednesday

Mama Deer came back for her baby just a little while after this was taken. But I was getting ready to do an internet search on caring for fawns “just in case”.

Peonies, Peonies, Peonies, and Tequila

All over Bloggsville, I see pictures of peonies. It’s that wonderful time of year when peonies are blooming all across the country and folks are more than happy to share them on the internet.

So, what kind of blogger would I be if I, too, did not share my peonies with you? I only wish I could share their scent with you.

Heavenly.

These peonies live in our backyard on the opposite side from where our new septic system was installed. It’s like a whole separate world on the peony side of the backyard. Things are actually still green and colorful. Not brown and dead.

I like the peony side of the yard the best.

We have light pink peonies.

And dark pink peonies.

And today, I picked a little of each.

No, this is not a giant toothbrush holder. This is a vase from Southern Living at Home.

It helps decorating-challenged people like me be able to make beautiful flower arrangements. See that hole-y piece on my counter? It is called a “frog”. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone does. Despite its very strange name, I love it.

Here’s why I love that frog. It makes me look like Martha Stewart.

Darling Daughter made a peony arrangement of her own. Only she didn’t use a frog for hers.

She used an empty tequila bottle.

I promise, she didn’t drink it.

But, I know who did.

A Duck’s Tale

I was so busy posting about all the meyhem and mess in our backyard, that I never got to tell you about the polar opposite, the peace and serenity, that was happening in our front yard.

One day about two weeks ago, I was out front watering the planters of geraniums on our porch. As I was pulling the hose around to water the far planter (since I was too lazy to walk allll the waaayy to the back yard to get the watering can), a giant bird flew out of the azalea bush right by the stairs to the front door nearly giving me a heart attack.

As soon as I realized that I was not being ambushed by aliens or any other strange creature, I composed myself and took a look in the azalea bush. You have no idea how much I wish I had a picture of what I saw.  I actually did run into the house to grab my camera (who knew watering the geraniums would be a picture-worthy event?) and my camera’s battery chose that exact moment to let me know it needed to be recharged NOW.

Don’t you think it would be nice if a camera would say, “ok, just one or two more pictures and then I really need to be recharged, please”?

But, no. Those cameras are so temperamental and demanding.

Anyway, if my camera had worked, right now you would be looking at a picture of a perfectly formed duck’s nest, lined with the mommy duck’s own downy-soft feathers filled with at least 11 eggs. I tried to count them all, but I didn’t want to get too close and permanently scare the mama duck away.

By the time my demanding camera’s battery was recharged, Mama Duck was back and I was able to get this shot:

Isn’t she the sweetest Mama Duck? You probably can’t see her feathers that she used for the nest in this shot because I had to zoom in from far away. So like a mother -  to literally give of herself for her babies.

Here’s the azalea bush she picked to place her nest under:

This bush is right by the front door. We usually just enter the house from the garage. If I hadn’t been too lazy to go get my watering can that day, we never would have known she was there.

The lesson: laziness has its rewards.

Darling Daughter looked up the incubation time for duckling eggs on the internet. It is 28 days. Since we had no idea how long she was there before we found her, we really wanted to make sure we did not miss the hatching. We wondered where Mama and all her ducklings would go after they hatched. Would they stay in our yard, perhaps taking a swim in the pool? Or would they take off for the much larger and duck friendlier pond just outside our neighborhood?

Checking on the Mama Duck became part of my daily routine and I proudly but quietly made everyone who came to our house take a peek at her, too.

I was so anxious to see her babies. Each day I would go out front to make sure she was still there (I was actually hoping she had left for food or a potty break so I could get a pic of her eggs for you), but every single time I went to check on her she was there.

But not today.

Today when I went out to check on Mama Duck and her eggs, this is what I found:

An empty nest.

No Mama Duck.

No eggs.

No egg shells.

And no baby ducks. (I know, ducklings, but they ARE babies, aren’t they?)

And I also saw this:

It looks like something ripped apart her nest. The strange thing is that there is not one single egg or shell left. I don’t know what to make of it. Whatever got to the eggs was very meticulous. You would think that if a fox or other wild animal ate them, there would be some shell fragments left.

Do you think they could have hatched during the night and Mama Duck cleaned up after herself?

Or is that just wishful thinking, while I’m in denial that my ducklings are gone?

Septic System Saga

Don’t know why I would make such an assumption, BUT, just in case you want to read the entire saga of our new septic system installation, here are the links to the posts in order:

Adventures in Septic Systems

Let the Digging Begin

I Think They Dug All the Way to China

Septic System Update

All Done!

That’s all folks! You won’t be hearing any more septic system talk from me.

One can hope anyway!

All Done!

As of Friday, all that was left to do to finish our brand spankin’ new septic system was to run a line connecting the new septic tanks near our house to the new septic field way out back in the Promised Land.

See that tall, reddish bush in the back of the picture? The Promised Land is behind that, way in the back of our yard. It is so far back that they had to install a pump with the new tanks to keep things moving along.

Speaking of the Promised Land, here it is now. It’s hard to tell in the picture, but it is now a 24″ mound that is also 42 feet long and 24 feet wide. We were lucky. Depending on the soil tests, some folks have to have a 4 FOOT mound as their septic field.

So, by the end of the day on Friday, all that was left for the guys to do was to put a few bushes back in place and take their big toys home.

Neither of which they did.

Which left Hubby feeling like he might want to help the guys out a bit with the bushes and all.

Much to my chagrin.

Why wait until Tuesday to let the professionals re-plant the bushes when you can do it yourself?

If his day job doesn’t work out, he might have a future in landscaping.

Getting a little direction from our visiting bro-in-law.

And before we knew it, the bushes were back. It was as if they never left. That night, God provided a deluge of rain to give the traveling plants a nice big drink of water – just what they needed.

And the old septic field?

As good as new.

Sans grass.

This morning the guys finally came and took the heavy equipment away – thank you, Jesus! Now I get to go down to their office and write the final check.

Sure hope Dear Daughter didn’t plan on going to college immediately after graduating high school next year. Sigh.

Septic System Update

I warned you, these posts would be riveting. What’s better than news about a new septic system being installed?

American Idol?

Ho Hum.

Dancing With the Stars?

Bo-ring.

Ah, but septic systems – where else can a girl get her fill of dirt, heavy equipment, men working hard, and grossness all in one location.

That’s right – here at I Throw Like a Girl. My devotion to you knows no bounds.

So let’s get right to it. The last time we visited the Promised Land, it looked like this:

The next day after the guys drove in and out of our yard all day long with their big trucks, the Promised Land looked like this:

Now, don’t be fooled. That may look like everyday ordinary sand. But let me tell you – it’s not. It is very special sand from Atlantic City, New Jersey.

If you are not familiar with NJ geography, here’s a quick lesson. NJ’s entire eastern side bumps right up against the Atlantic Ocean. Also, NJ is a very narrow state, that runs north to south, or south to north depending on how you want to look at it.

We live pretty much smack dab in the middle of the state of NJ. If we head due east, we will hit the Atlantic Ocean. The beach we would probably run into first would be Belmar, or maybe Point Pleasant.  It would take us just a little over an hour to get there.

You know what beach we would not run into by driving one hour straight east?

Atlantic City beach.

The Atlantic City beach is approximately 3 hours southeast of us.  Then, one might ask, why do we have to pay for truckload after truckload of Atlantic City beach sand, when we have several choices of perfectly good NJ beach sand a little over an hour from us?  No one seems able to tell us the answer to that question.

Assuming part of the cost of this septic system is for the transportation of all the materials to us, I would be very happy with Belmar sand or Point Pleasant sand.

I think only Tony Soprano knows the reason why they get the sand from where they do.

Anyway, after a full day of delivering Atlantic City sand to our back yard, the next day was spent topping it off with this…

I have no idea where this gravel came from and frankly, I don’t want to know.

But that’s not all they got done in the last few days.  They also installed yet another tank closer to the house.

I have asked our Real Estate agent to make sure that our buyers don’t come anywhere near our house until all this septic system stuff is done. They were very nervous when they made the offer on our house about what the septic system installation would do to the yard.

I thought they were being silly to worry so much. But little did I know that our yard would go from this:

To this:

in under one week.

Yeah. I think we need to keep the buyers away until all the big toys go home.