Clever Divas

Water : Pronunciation: \ˈwȯ-tər, ˈwä-\
Function: noun
Usage: often attributive
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English wæter; akin to Old High German wazzar water, Greek hydōr, Latin unda wave
Date: before 12th century (oh, that just figures)

1 a: the liquid that descends from the clouds as rain, forms streams, lakes, and seas, and is a major constituent of all living matter and that when pure is an odorless, tasteless, very slightly compressible liquid oxide of hydrogen H2O which appears bluish in thick layers, freezes at 0° C and boils at 100° C, has a maximum density at 4° C and a high specific heat, is feebly ionized to hydrogen and hydroxyl ions, and is a poor conductor of electricity and a good solvent b: a natural mineral water —usually used in plural
2: a particular quantity or body of water: as a (1)plural : the water occupying or flowing in a particular bed (2)chiefly British : LAKE, POND b: a quantity or depth of water adequate for some purpose (as navigation) cplural (1): a band of seawater abutting on the land of a particular sovereignty and under the control of that sovereignty (2): the sea of a particular part of the earth d: WATER SUPPLY
3: travel or transportation on water
4: the level of water at a particular state of the tide : TIDE
5: liquid containing or resembling water: as a (1): a pharmaceutical or cosmetic preparation made with water
6: the wet stuff all over my basement creating this strange, unwanted indoor wading pool. 

Granted, it’s not the Mississippi or Ohio or any other river overflowing their banks to create a massive flood. It’s just this odd geyser spouting up from the seam where the floor meets the wall…about a foot away from my desk.

Now mind you, I grew up on Lake Erie and normally love the water. Just not in my basement, not while I’m over deadline and so totally NOT next to my desk.

I’m told, with little sympathy I might add, that well, when it dumps 5+ inches of rain in a couple hours it has to go somewhere. Uh, ok, sure, how about anywhere except my basement—or as I like to call it, my office. Did I mention I’m over deadline? What does that mean? Well, it means that 200+ pages of wip are spread all over the place — including the floor, along with all the notes and research tomes.

In looking around the US for somewhere real kewl to move to, I’ve decided that it’s going to be nowhere near water. No place that floods. No place with hurricanes (the water thing). I would rather brave a tornado (been there, done that) than to ever have to deal with unrelenting, non-stopping water again.

It really doesn’t stop. You put down something to block it up and in a short while the darn stuff finds a way under, around or…over. I can’t think of anything more unrelenting than water at the moment. And while a drive around town this afternoon (to get the h*ll away from the house for a few) showed me that I got off easy – I lost count of the people who had hoses pumping water out of their houses – it didn’t help the disgust. Just plain old, I’ve had it disgust.

My sister’s furnace and water heater got nailed good. My parents, who live on 3 acres of land are currently residing on what looks like an island in the middle of farm country – let’s not even talk about the corn and soybean fields. So, I’m obviously not alone.

Since I only lost material items (as in fabric, paper and/or cardboard type stuff) I’m grateful for that, but I so feel for the flood victims of recent and past days. It’s hard for me to even imagine their sense of loss and perhaps disgust.

And so, on this 4th of July, I wish you, your family and Americans everywhere, safety, continued freedom and clear sunny skies without a trace a rain.

Until next time, take care, be well and stay dry.

Diva Denise

No, really, it did.

We live in the city…not just inside the city limits, but in town. Yes, we could wash our neighbor’s back if we had a long scrub brush. The houses are old…ours was built in 1942 and is relatively “new” for the neighborhood. I say that only because I know that my great-grandfather built the houses across the street, and my grandmother grew up in one.

There are benefits to living in town—if the car breaks down, public transportation aka the bus stops right at the corner. Our son’s grade school was, oh, about 10-12 houses down the street—not even a block. The neighbors watch out for each other, and that’s not a thing to sneeze at! At the time, the price was perfect—it was cheaper than rent! The dh thought it’d be a good starter house. I, however, spent my entire childhood in one house and had every intention of buying a HOME, not a house. Twenty-three years later and guess what? We’re still here.

The only gripe about the place, other than the usual not enough storage space. A pack rat can never have too much space ya know. But there wasn’t any yard to speak of and there was this loooonnngggg drive way between our house and the neighbor. I don’t have many pics of that, but as you can see below – that’s a driveway butted right against the neighbor’s house – and it’s butted right against ours too.

So it sort of looks like this between the houses.

Mighty attractive, huh? And the right side of the backyard looked like this:

(yeah, yeah, I’m no graphic artist – just pretend that grey is cement for the moment).

The dh decided we were going to make a yard. It’d been something he and the neighbor had talked about for years and years, but never got around to doing. Then, after life happened and all, the neighbor passed away, leaving his house empty and boarded up for the last four years. So, the dh thought there was no time like the present.

We measured and remeasured and then being a good seamtress and carpenter’s daughter, I measured again.

The drive alone was 51 feet long X 8 feet wide. The back area was 18 feet long X 14 feet wide.

That’s nice, exactly what was I supposed to do with that information? I’m an author, not a landscaper.

Natch, the dh patiently (snort) explained we needed topsoil and sod. OHHH – SOD. Duh.

So, while he and the son chopped away at cement and blacktop, I stayed out of their way and found a couple sites on line that proved useful. Of course, none of the sites agreed on how much topsoil was supposed to go beneath the sod. 2 inches, 3 inches…one of the local gardening centers said 1 inch was plenty. Kewl – considering they price this stuff by cubic yards I was all for the 1 inch concept. The dh and I haggled, agreeing on 1.5 inches. Off to a topsoil calculator site – it can be used for mulch too!

http://clearwaterlandscapes.com/calculator.htm

The total square for our yard was….51X8=408 AND 18X14=252 SO 408+252=660 square feet.

I plugged that in, along with the 1.5 inches for the topsoil and it calculated out just over 3 cubic feet.

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH 3 CUBIC FEET OF DIRT IS??????

Well, it was double what we needed. Thankfully we have neighbors who were willing to truck on down to the house with their wheelbarrows and get rid of the left overs!

Now for the sod…

Found this site to calculate that info:

http://www.emeraldsodfarms.com/How-Much-Sod.htm

Plugged in the 51X8 AND the 14X18 and it came up with 660 Sq. Feet or 1.22 pallets. The sod farm will only deliver full pallets. We flipped a coin and ordered 2….uh huh, you guessed it—too much—there’s 55 pieces of sod on a pallet. We used about 90. Again, the neighbors to the rescue! YAAAYYYY!

While the stimulus check is now history, we have this for a backyard:

Standing in the back looking down the “drive” toward the street:

From the back door (yeah, yeah, without the grey fill in! And the fence has been painted white.)

And from the back corner:

I have to admit it was well worth the time, work and expense.

Now…if I could just con someone into a pool……

Until next time, take care and be well.

Diva Denise Lynn

A few months ago I bemoaned the fact that I couldn’t find Lee Relaxed Riders anywhere in town…then I found some at WalMart of all place.  Yeah, well, I won’t be rushing out for anther pair anytime soon. I came home from a meeting a weekish or so ago and the dh says, “You’re hanging out.” Oooookkkkkk, since I’m wearing a Henley and a long-sleeved denim shirt at the time I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. “No,” he says with that irritating tone of utter disgust he uses when I’m at my most blonde, “your a** is hanging out.”  And sure enough, the one side of the back pocket ripped off the jeans, taking the rear with it.

Niiiice. I hope the local writing chapter appreciates the fact that I like bright colored underwear—this time in neon pink. (sigh)  If the jean would have been super tight or old and worn I might understand it. Needless to say it was the first…and last…time I’ll be purchasing my jeans there. So, now it’s back to the wild hunt. Oh, joy.

Since it’s nice weather-wise here around the Great Lakes, I’ve been doing some (little) yard work. I decided that this year I was going to try growing something…anything…from seeds. I picked out 2 different kinds of morning glories. I mean how hard can they be to grow? For some odd reason I read the directions on the back of the envelope, only to discover these are considered hard-shell seeds. One suggestions was to “nick” each seed with a nail file.

Uh, have you seen the size of these seeds? We’d be talking tweezers, nail file and magnifying glass. Unfortunately, I haven’t perfected the art of 3-handed projects yet. I opted for the second suggestion—soak the seeds in water overnight. No prob, that I can do. Maybe. I mean, I put them in a cookie sheet on a coffee filter (in lieu of paper towels), poured in some water…and remembered them 3 days later. The little buggers had sprouted! Yeah, I planted them anyways, it’ll be interesting to see if they do anything.

During the winter I do crock-pot meals a lot…often…ok, if dinner isn’t from a box or a restaurant, it’s from the crock-pot. But during the summer it’s hard for me to find things that are A)easy B)cheap C)quick D)low in fat and E)crockable. A customer gave me a recipe that I’m going to try today. Take a roast, toss it in the crock, dump in 2 envelopes of taco seasoning and 1 can of beef broth. Crock for 8-10 hours. I’m sort of curious to see what this tastes like. The dh didn’t look too impressed, but there’s hot dogs in the freezer if this taco/roast thing doesn’t work.

I’m a third shift bat. That much I’ll admit freely. However, the rest of my house are those odd, frightening sunlight people. So, being mom and wife, I of course keep to my schedule while also keeping to theirs. Meaning sleep is a joke and eating a circus. We have dinner around 4 – 5 pm. For me that’s brunch, but whatever. Come about 3–4 am I’m starving, the blood sugar is crashing and the words on the computer monitor start to blur. Normally, I’d eat whatever was left over from dinner. A couple weeks ago I finally figured out that by gosh that’s stupid because I’ll be heading to bed between 5-6 on a totally full stomach. That could explain part of the massive weight gain this last year. The other parts I’m blaming on age and cortisone shots. So, I thought maybe some fresh fruit and veggies would be a better idea. It was for a couple days, then I ran out of oranges and only had veggies around—you know, cukes, celery, green peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes topped with a dash of vinegar and oil. They don’t sell enough pink pepto at the carryout to take care of a veggie overdose. Not bright.

After that I decided some cereal would be good. The dh’s idea of cereal is Captain Crunch. Uh, no thank you. Oatmeal is fine in the winter, but it’s not winter anymore. Special K with strawberries and a box of Life were my choices. To my shock, in 2 weeks time either the scale broke or I actually lost 7 pounds. I’m going to check again in another week. Keep your fingers crossed that it’s not a broken scale.

Until next time, take care and be well.

Denise Lynn