Toby's First Week

Well, we have now had Toby just over a week and he is doing great-- barring a few potty accidents. Everyone in the family has bonded with him, and he seems pretty comfortable in our home--Comfortable enough to steal Colin's snack off the table this afternoon. Luckily everyone has a sense of humor and hopefully Colin has learned a lesson about leaving food out. Genna was trying to teach him to read-- just easy words like "a", "the", and "my". Maybe she can teach him to read "No Stealing" or "Keep your nose off the table. Thank you."

Greyhounds also are pack rats. Toby likes to go "shopping" in their bedrooms, so the kids have quickly learned to keep their doors shut. So smart!

One day I walked through the living room and found the remote on the floor. A few days ago he carried Colin's stuffed animal (Super Teddy) off to his bed. Thankfully he isn't into chewing stuff up; he just wants to carry whatever appealing thing he's found away to his lair or some other comfy spot and drop it off. Still the slobber factor is enough to motivate us to keep certain thing out of reach. Maybe someday I could get really tough on the room cleaning and make the kids leave their doors open. Diabolical? Yes, I know.

Toby!

Last night we brought home our adopted retired greyhound after a two hour tour and orientation at the Phoenix Greyhound Park. The kids learned all about how the dogs are raised and trained and watched the first race of the night. Colin wants to go back and bet next time, says he can figure out which one is fast by watching them walk out prior to the race. The first night Toby was a bit anxious but today he seems pretty settled in. He's only two years old and still very active so we spent some time at the Goodyear city park dog run this morning. He's retired for lack of interest in racing and that seemed to come through at the park. He enjoyed running around and orienting himself to the park but did not seem that interested in putting in any fast laps. Lisa did get a glimpse of the hunt drive when a little white dog walked by while we were watching the little league game. But for her solid grip on the leash, we would have had a bit of a diplomatic snafu.

SLO Time

We just got back a few days ago from our spring break visit to Grandma and Grandpa's house in Arroyo Grande. The first thing we did was hit the farmer's market behind the village along the creek on Saturday afternoon. So much to choose from-- strawberries, artichokes, greens, onions, apples, honey, oranges, tomatoes, beans, asparagus, eggs, brussel's sprouts, and broccoli. We bought lots and managed to eat most of it.

Our week included all the ritual visits -- Avila Beach, Doc Bernstien's Ice Cream, the park on the hill, and several trips to San Luis Obispo to visit our favorite bakery, the toy store, the children's museum, the mission, Moondoggies, Mo's BBQ, and the yarn shop.

To top it all, we took a trip to the Monterey Aquarium, which was very cool-- huge impressive tanks and ocean views.

We also explored picturesque Carmel and a little bit of the Pebble Beach golf course. After driving through the Salinas Valley and seeing Cannery Row, Jack and I will be reading more Steinbeck. We were also lucky enough to have perfect weather too.

On our last day in Arroyo Grande Jack and I took a scenic drive through the rural landscape further inland.



Saturday morning we left in fog and mist while taking our leave of the vineyards, the grazing cattle on the rolling green hills, the gnarled oaks, and blue ocean. We had a great time!

Contractor Man

It's official. Jack now has a spray foam insulation business. Licensed, bonded and insured. Says so on the cool signage on his truck. He has a website (www.ZeroEnergySystemsLLC.com) and a tricked out trailer too. Pretty cool.

He sprayed foam in our attic a few months ago and we hardly needed to use the heat this winter. Anxious to see what the impact will be on our summer a/c bill.

Fly Slayer or Hidden Talents II

Jack has the rather impressive ability to kill flies in mid-flight. Once the offending fly lands on a convenient spot, he slowly sneaks up on it, claps his hands just as the fly senses his movement and takes off, and bingo, they are swiftly dispatched. Today was a red letter day because he killed two simultaneously. The camera wasn't handy at the crucial moment, but I was so thoroughly impressed I had to take a picture of the aftermath and share.

Genevieve it seems, may develop her own abilities in this area as I witnessed her deftly pick up a fly that was crawling on her by its wings the other day. Weird, I know. I'll stick with the worms.

Goodyear, AZ-- Where Women Garden and Worms are Nervous

Wife, mother, school volunteer, short order cook, sometime cleaner of toilets, gardening enthusiast and now add to the list the title of worm wrangler. It all began when I spied the can-o-worms composting system in my latest gardening catalog. Worm castings as you may know do all this great stuff for your soil, and with you very own personal composting system you can have all the castings you could ever want. You put your food scraps in and the worms munch away and poop while migrating through the stacking trays of your garbage. In a month or two you have the world's greatest fertilizer, and best of all it's odorless.

But there was a problem. I couldn't bring myself to pay $100 for a bunch of plastic trays. After some research, I found you can make your very own vermicomposting system. Basically all you need is a plastic tub with some wholes in it to let the air in. You can get clever and complicated, but that's about all you need-- and of course worms. They were $40 a pound plus shipping. Somehow it didn't seem right to have to pay for worms, at least not that much. So I sat on this next step in the process hoping another idea would come to mind. It finally did when I was loosening a patch of soil for a planting of cukes. Right there under my nose, wriggling in my trowel were these red, fat little worms. I'd planted worm cocoons last spring throughout the garden, but hadn't really seen any sign of life when I did my earlier plantings. But just in that square foot patch I must have turned up about a dozen redworms.

I decided then and there I could raise my own worm herd. I transferred as many as I could find (all the while praying I wouldn't slice too many in half as I dug down) to a cozy little bucket (with holes) lined with shredded newspaper, delicious banana peels and various other fruit and veggie scraps. Their own little worm paradise. I'm hoping I can get a decent sized population going and move them into a larger bin later. Maybe then we'll be in business.

Honed to Perfection

I recently discovered that I could get my knives sharpened at my local fabric store. Once a week the knife guy sets up shop just inside the entrance and it only costs $2. I've been meaning to get my knives sharpened for some time so I make plans to be at Joann's on Monday.

He looks bored and downright grim. No "Hello, what can I do for you?" In fact he looks surprised to see me. I feel compelled to explain what I'm doing here as I lay the knives on the table. He examines them with a scowl, and I wonder if he's about to turn me away when he says, "These knives look pretty tired."

Yes, they're embarrassingly dull. They've been that way for years. You know how they say a dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one? Well mine must be lethal because they're about as sharp as spoons. So yes, knife man, go ahead and judge my knives. I've only brought two to see how they turn out, but there's plenty more where these puppies came from.

He takes down my initials and tells me it'll take about 5-10 minutes. I take this as a signal that I should leave instead of hang around. A dangerous proposition. I came in determined not to spend more than $4. Would I have the will power not to buy some small enticing craft item? I pass the time in the needle craft section and discover that Deborah Norville now hawks yarn. And yes, I mean Deborah Norville the TV journalist. There she is right next to Vanna White, the afghan maven.

I hear the sound of the knife sharpening machine winding down. Happily I have managed restraint. No extra purchases today, but as I make my way to the front of the store, I'm vaguely wondering if I'll be charged extra for my tired knives. There is a neat little paper wrapped parcel with my initials waiting. Again, he looks a bit surprised to see me,"L.H.?" I look around. I am the only customer in sight and I was just here 5 minutes ago. "Um, yes that's me." I am happy to find that it still only costs $2 a knife no matter how exhausted your knives are.

After I get them home it's a thrill to discover they slice through tomatoes like butter, and I can't wait to try the big one out on the pineapple. Hallelujah! I sense another awkward encounter with the knife guy in my future.