I just went through the Spring vacation from h-ll. I'm a teacher, and always look forward to Spring vacation because we can all get outside. I can do some leisurely garden cleanup and the kids can run around and let off some steam. Well, this time, not a day was above 40 degrees, and there was only one afternoon we could bear to be outside for more than 10 minutes. On a limited income, there's not much to do cooped inside with a 5 and 2 year old. It was VERY depressing. Is it too early to look forward to the empty nest??!!?? On Thursday I really thought I might spank one of them, and that's something I'm personally opposed to, but I just reached my breaking point. They are just kids, and I know I wasn't happy being stuck in the house, it's not their fault. Luckily for me, my parents took them for the afternoon on Friday to give me some peace. I sometimes feel guilty for being so happy to have them gone for a while, but how many times can you read GO DOG GO or play Disney yahtzee before you start to lose your mind??? I often wish I was one of those parents who lets their kids just sit in front of the TV for hours upon end.....it really is like crack for kids, but each kid gets to pick one show in the morning and one show in the afternoon. I treasure that hour and boy does it go by fast!!! OK, enough venting. I love my kids dearly..... just a rough week. Deb

LOL, just saw this thread was popping up again. Buford, I also FREQUENTLY use the timer feature when I'm out using drip irrigation, soaker hoses, etc....I've got so many all over the place that it's impractical right now to buy timers for every single one. That's a great idea about the zippered or velcro pockets. I will only wear blue jean pants in the garden, even in hot weather just because I'm always on my knees so pants and sometimes knee pads protect from sharp objects. And I don't want to contend with bug bites either which they prevent. I'm pretty handy though, I bet I could sow on my own zippered pocket if I couldn't find any cheapo jeans that had it already. Herboil, that's an interesting theory about the cell phone waves. I had heard that idea before several years ago when people were starting to realize the honey bee populations were dropping. I hadn't heard much about it lately.

I'm 50 and grew up in the Chicago area. A few memories are: --making those endless gum chains, for no real purpose. Did we really chew that much gum?? --also making endless yarn-rope chains with that neat little contraption (a spool with four nails in it) and a hook. I guess we were supposed to then sew them into a round rug, but we only kept making colorful chains. --my mother sprinkling then rolling up my dad's white shirts and putting them in the refrigerator (?) until ironing them. --typical school box sandwiches were liverwurst or peanut butter. For both, my mother spread mayonaise on the other side of the bread. (Peanut butter and mayo? Amazing that I'm still alive). --my German/Czech grandparent spread lard on bread, then dipped it in chopped parsley for a sandwich. --that super thin onion-skin-like overseas letter paper. You wrote on every inch and then the recipient lost a lot of the message because it always tore when trying to open the sides and top. --some of my favorites memories were long, hot summer days with mom and grandma sitting outside on the porch swing and fanning themselves while we ran through the sprinkler. And warm nights with the windows open and the crickets' songs and fire flies everwhere. Where did all the fire flies go? I don't even think we had electric fans. --some luxuries in the house were the occasional magazine my mom bought, paper towels, any beauty product besides Johnson's baby shampoo, Tame cream rinse, Ponds' cream. --powdered milk. We hated the stuff, but went through several years of it. Had to make it freezing cold before we could drink it. Yuck!

I have kind of a cute story. In 1982, I was a recent college-grad, newly moved to San Francisco, and during the Christmas season, I walked past the SPCA's adoption event on Market Street at lunchtime one day. I've always been a huge dog lover, and impulsively decided I wanted to buy all the dogs chews for Christmas, so I stopped for a few minutes to talk to the woman in charge to find out how many dogs there were in total, where I could drop the chews off, etc. We had a good 10-minute conversation. During our conversation, I was slightly aware of a youngish man standing off to the side of us, but Market St. is a busy street with lots of people around, so I didn't pay him much attention. Anyway, after I made a plan with the volunteer, I walked quickly away, because by now I was a bit delayed getting back to work after lunch. Half a block later or so, I suddenly, I felt a bit of a tug on my arm and turned to see the young man who had been listening to my conversation with the SPCA volunteer walking quickly as if to catch up with me. "Excuse me," he said, with a heavy Eastern European accent. "I sorry to be nosy -but I never see this before. You are buying shoes for all the dogs for Christmas?" It just cracked me up, to think of him sitting there thinking, "These crazy Americans, they buy shoes for their dogs!" I think I got him straight, but the funny thing is now, nearly forty years later, it wouldn't seem all that bizarre to buy shoes for dogs!