Death Came Organically

No, this is not my collection of ABC gum and yard clippings.

It is, rather, a snack-bag-o'-death. (Though the contents are not intended to be snacked upon.)


(I wonder what they're talking about in there.)

What, you may ask, is the meaning of this? Well...

...a couple of weeks ago, Jeff prepared a garden plot in the backyard. He dug up a 15' x 3' section of lawn against the wall:


He then puppy-proofed it by pounding some U-posts into the ground and rolling out some heavy duty chicken wire.

I planted some vegetable plants and...voila! What do we have? That's right!


...a five star buffet for slugs!

*Boo! Hiss!*

Look at what the wee beasties did to my bell pepper plant:


(Those holes aren't supposed to be there, in case you were wondering.)

They swiss-cheesed my basil. Grrrr...

Though it's hard to tell in this picture, the most victimized annual is my cucumber plant:


Poor baby. One leaf is nothing but veins.

How do slugs DO that? I mean, I'm sure there aren't any teeth in those slimy mouths of theirs. In fact, do they even have mouths? Hmmm... *carefully examines for anything remotely like an oral cavity*

Nope, and yet their destructive capabilities are on par with our electric hedge clippers.

As strange as it sounds, I've always had a weird sense of respect for gastropod mollusks. I mean they're basically the pariahs of the garden due to their lack of defined shape, their ooey-gooey coating and their lethargic meanderings. The coolest thing about them are those little dealy-bobs on their heads (heads?) that curiously extend and retract. Yet, in spite of their hideously grotesque existence, they carry on with life, never stopping to complain, resolutely searching for sustenance to make their survival certain. That's all true of snails and slugs. However, slugs not only share the above disadvantages with snails, but they have the additional deprivation of being homeless. There's something admirable about that, right? Right?

*crickets*

Anyway, my tendency to esteem such creatures ends abruptly when it comes to them eating things from my garden or my family enjoying its harvest.

So, I called the local nursery to ask for advice. "Linda" immediately told me about some powder they sell that I can sprinkle on my precious veggie-bearers.

"Actually," I responded, "I was hoping to keep my garden organic. Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Oh." Her voice fell flat. I could just imagine her eyes rolling. "Well, we usually tell organic gardeners to plant three times as many plants as they think they'll need since pests will destroy about 2/3s of what they grow."

Hmmm, not good news.

Now let me explain something: I'm not super committed to the whole organic thing. I've been eating non-organic stuff for decades and I haven't noticed dire consequences from doing so. However, I like the idea of not putting chemicals on my plants or in my dirt, so I'd like to at least try...

What's a know-nothing gardener to do? Why turn to the internet, of course, where gardening "knowledge" abounds.

I won't bore you with all of the "sure-fire" ways to kill organically (that phrase is rather ironic, isn't it?), but one of them involved cornmeal (which you saw in an above photo alongside the decimated cuke bush).

Last night, I took a flashlight outside to see how well the cornmeal was killing off the marauding scavengers. Well, I didn't see any cornmeal-bloated-carcasses, but I did see plenty of living creepy-crawly burglars inching their way (uh, millimetering their way?) around the garden plot.

I had a ziplock with me, so I started playing "Alien Abduction" by scooping them up with a plastic cup and dropping them into the bag. After a quick zip to secure them inside their plastic coffin, I dropped it into the trashcan.

Although, maybe next time I'll put the ziplock into Tobias's lunch sack. That could be fun. :)

This One'll Put You to Sleep

The following statement is yet more proof that I am no fun at all:

I LOVE to sleep.

I realize that sounds like an incredibly lame thing to say about one's self.

New Person: "Nice to meet you, Aimee. What do you do?"

Me: "Well, I occasionally cut my toenails. Oh, and I LOVE to sleep."

(Good thing I don't have aspirations to go 'speed dating'.)

Yet, I really do love to sleep. Perhaps it's because I often struggle with sleeping. (I've posted about my insomniatic ways before, so I sha'n't bore you all again with them.)

When I awaken from a deep and gloriously satisfying slumber, it's on the same level as when I've just finished a fabulously delicious meal. My sense of well being abuts on resplendence. (I really like it, okay?)

Sometimes when I'm lying in bed and I suddenly realize that my thoughts are becoming increasingly weird, I recognize that I'm on the verge of a dream. Mmmm...I happily smile and slip into a blessed lack of consciousness.

Recently, my sleep has become even more enjoyable. You see, someone gave me a ridiculously generous gift card to a place that I shall henceforth refer to as CostInc.

(My feelings about CostInc. are numerous enough to have their own post, but that would be rather dull reading--yes, even duller than what you are presently reading--so it will suffice to say that I love some of their products, their return policy and their cash back credit card, but I hate maneuvering those trailer-sized shopping carts in the midst of the over-excited masses who are all waiting for their eighth food sample. Oh, and I don't have a family of 10 to feed so those massive cans of corn and 108 ounce boxes of cereal are about as impractical and unnecessary to me as a 12 seater van would be.)

*ahem*

So, knowing that I had some cash to spend at CostInc., we went down there to see what caught my eye.

Behold...
there it was...
on an eye-level shelf...
in it's cardboard boxed glory...

...a memory foam mattress pad.

I've been looking for a mattress pad for our guest bed for a very long time, but they're so expensive.

Let me explain something about our guest bed: It used to be our bed, but several years ago, I grew tired of having to carefully arrange my various limbs upon the mattress to avoid the 'sprung-springs' with which the bed was riddled. Inspired, I said, "Hey Jeff, how about we get a new bed and move this one into the other room for our occasional guest(s)?"

Though he was shocked that I was actually suggesting we spend money on something, Jeff found the idea agreeable and we soon possessed a brand new mattress.

The guest bed has been used a number of times, but that is much to my chagrin since I can easily recall how uncomfortably one spends a night upon it. I don't want our guests to involuntarily grab their backs and groan every time they remember sleeping at our house. Thus, I've wanted to get a memory foam pad for years. But the expense kept it a dream and not a reality.

Then, there we were at CostInc. with money we had to spend and...

suddenly...
there it was...
the cure for all (or at least one) of my hospitality woes...
and it was only $138...
and it was three inches thick!

I heaved the cumbersome box off that shelf and lumbered over to where Jeff was waiting in line. (Did I mention how LONG the lines are at that place?)

Okay, here comes the part where you all realize how truly selfish and ridiculous I am: On the way home, as I pondered the absolute fabulocity of my latest purchase, I began to think. It occurred to me that the guest bed is only used a few times a year and that a mattress pad of that quality and luxuriance should be thoroughly appreciated on a more regular basis.

Therefore, when we got home, I unrolled the thing of beauty...

...across the top of my bed.

And there it has stayed for about two weeks now.

Regrets?

Nope.

Shame?

Maybe a little, but then I just lie down and it all drifts away on a velvety cloud of cushy malleableness.

Is it okay to describe a mattress as 'yummy'? I say, 'Yes!'

I'm telling you, if you've got $138 to upgrade your sleeping quarters, just drive down to you-know-where and buy one of these magnificently doughy rectangles. It's SO WORTH having to dig your club card out of your wallet and shoving past all of those food-samplers.

I must warn you that at first, every time Jeff rolled over, he'd gripe about the chemically smell the pad emitted, but the tupperware odor is gone now and the squishy wonderment remains. Also, deep pocket fitted sheets are an absolute must now because the mattress is three full inches higher.

(I've posted no pictures because the thought of a photo of my bed on the internet is slightly disturbing to me for some reason.)

I justify my recent actions by telling myself that when I expect guests, I can simply remove the mattress pad from my bed and put it on the guest bed.

I really think I'll be willing to... :)

Learning and Celebrating

Jeff and I recently celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary.


As you can see, we were very young when we wed. Jeff proposed to me when I was 17 and I turned 19 just three weeks prior to the ceremony.

There are a lot of things that I would do differently about the wedding itself if I was getting married today. I would certainly pluck my eyebrows more thoroughly. I would do my hair and makeup differently. I'd make sure we had more than just a few crystal dishes of deluxe nuts and cake to feed our guests. (We actually ran out of cake. How embarrassing is that?)

However, the one most important aspect of the ceremony (to whom I was wed) I would not alter.

The thing that gave me confidence in marrying a 21 year old Jeff was his level of integrity. As I came to know him more and more, I had many opportunities to witness Jeff doing what he knew to be right, even if it was inconvenient or "unfun". I saw him consistently applying God's principles to his life regardless of his own desires. That assured me that he would be a good life partner.

Of course, being married isn't always easy. You have to learn how to live with another person who is likely as self-centered and frail as you are yourself.

Probably the most vital thing I've learned so far in marriage is that I'm not always right. (Yes, it came as a shock to me, as well.) As arrogant as it sounds, I honestly thought for the first few years of our post-nuptial existence that it was my job to reveal my rightness to Jeff so that he would agree and therefore join Team Right. Well, after a while, I realized that Jeff and I are very different, but that doesn't mean that one of us is right and one is wrong. We can have varying opinions and ways of doing things and that is actually healthy.

Probably the most valuable thing Jeff has learned so far is how to speak to me. For the first few years, he would often speak sarcastically. I felt belittled by his attempts at humor. He was just trying to be amusing and thought that he was succeeding, but after a while, he saw that he was the only one amused and that I was either irritated or hurt by his words. He has vastly improved on this front...thank God.

Although I wouldn't recommend getting married so young to most people, it has worked out very well for us.

We've learned how to not bounce checks together. We've learned how to communicate effectively. We've learned how to respect what the other values even if we don't quite get it. We've created and are raising two other human beings jointly. We've built a vast and influential financial empire together. (Okay, maybe not, but we did pay our car off a little early. :))

Anyway, we are learning and celebrating life together.

In the past month, we have been blessed to celebrate the marriages of other. In March, we watched as Teresa and Armin committed themselves to one another. (I stupidly forgot to take my camera to the ceremony.)

This Summer, we will witness Jennifer and Daniel promise to forsake all others and cleave unto one another:


Recently, we attended one of the most enjoyable weddings to which we've ever been. In the middle of the ceremony, the bride and groom led us all in a worship song, "Not to Us". It was beautiful and exemplified their focus on Christ.


(The groom was to the left, playing a cajon, but I couldn't get him in the shot.)

Both of these delightful people were raised in homes where they learned that if they noticed a need, they ought to try to fill it. Mandy and Christian serve God and others every chance they get.


(They look so young. It's hard to believe they're older than I was when I entered into matrimony.)

Let's lift our plastic glasses of Martinelli's to marriage...a peculiar yet marvelous institution.

*Tink*