Timber, Woman Down

I am really feeling my age today. I was working in my goth garden, building a dry rock bed.

As I was pulling the wheelbarrow full of gravel up and over the path steps, the heel of my foot caught the corner of the Adirondack chair’s foot rest and down I went.

And I hit hard. Backwards. I fell so contorted, that I thought I split my lady parts clean in half. Center stage, corner of the foot rest, right leg facing north, left leg south.

And the wheelbarrow fell on top of me. The metal stand came down hard on top of my left toe and split it in half and lifted the toenail off. I had tennis shoes on.

I swear I heard the birds laughing. Or maybe they were spinning above my head like in those cartoons.

I picked up my pride and walked the pain off. Me falling is like a Seqoia falling in the forest. Due to my height, it is a long way down.

I walked into the house.

I assessed the damage. I had to remove my polish off my toenails, which I screamed bloody murder because polish remover on a cut doesn’t feel so hot. My left toenail was not pretty.

I thought I was okay. Later, I fixed dinner and my husband and I went for a walk, in which I tattled on myself about falling. He scolded. He knows me too well. Doing too much. But as we walked, my body got stiffer and stiffer and my right foot started aching so bad I realized I was limping. My lower back and hips felt like meat pulling from the bone.

I took a shower and my body is wreching with pain. I think I may have sprained my right ankle. It’s pretty swollen. Sheesh.

Ibuprophen. Ice.

But I had completed my rock bed. And he promised me he would buy me plants to fill in if I completed it. He didn’t think I would.

But I did.

He said, “well I guess you did.”


Image by Robin Moreau

Risky PJ Business

I faced my fears this morning and crawled half way under our deck and collected rocks for my goth garden.

In my pajamas.

Before you start thinking, what the heck is this girl doing? Let me tell you how it started.

I was feeling pretty good this morning after taking a Benadryl. I wasn’t sneezing as bad as I had been, but I wanted to sit out back without my allergies kicking up. So I took a Benadryl and sat in our patio chairs with my husband and a hot cup of coffee. Peaceful.

All was well until I saw a weed in the flower bed in front of our deck. Not thinking much of it, I hopped up and pulled the weed.

Then I saw another. Then another. So I put on my gardening gloves sat down on the edge of the stones, in my robe and PJs and started pulling weeds.

Then I was too warm. I pulled my robe off and continued. I leaned over and looked under the deck.

“OOOOOO! Look at that rock! Look at ALL of these rocks! I need it.”

Image by Robin Moreau

Isn’t this an awesome rock? It’s like a pyramid!

My husband, not looking up from his iPad, said, “I wouldn’t be crawling under there.”

So I went back to weeding.

But I wanted that rock!

But how was I going to get it? No way am I crawling under there. There are weird things like spiders and bugs.

But I wanted that rock.

So I grabbed the rake, leaned over and pulled the rock closer to me within reach. Not bad! Then I saw another. As I continued to pull rocks over to me, my husband started trimming a few of our ornamental grasses.

By now I was on my knees, in this weird yoga-like position trying to reach a rock further under the deck. It was just out of reach. I leaned in further.

Then I saw it. I had seen it before, but forgot about it. It was the wannabe dead body. It scares me everytime and my husband is now laughing at me, “oh my gosh you’re crazy up underneath there!”

Image by Robin Moreau

Doesn’t it look like a dead body? It freaks me out! I think I have been watching too many “Bones” episodes. I crawled back out and stood up to take the rocks I collected over to the side yard.

“Ick, I feel like I have bugs crawling all over me”. As I was heading to the side yard, my husband snuck up behind me with some of the ornamental grass clippings and touched my shoulder. I pretty much came out of my skin!


That man laughed and laughed! Not funny. I’ll get him back…

Look at all of these rocks I got!

Image by Robin Moreau

I think I’m done for the day. Last day of my vacation and I’m sad. Usually I’m ready to go back to work, but this vacation was unbelievably relaxing and I would love to stay home a few more days.

Enjoy your Sunday and if you are looking for rocks, happy rock hunting!

Contractor’s Daughter = Wife of Projects

Good morning! I hope you are having a lovely weekend. Here, in the PNW, the weather is perfect. The sun is shining and it is about 61 degrees.

I insisted being productive yesterday and I ripped up our slate patio and put in a retaining flower bed wall. I wanted to bring out the bed from the fence to make it much wider and contain the slate tighter. Right now, the slate has about 3 to 5 inches between each one. I want less than that I have decided.

My husband sighed.

We have a large patio just off the deck, rather than have yard, I wanted all patio and greenery…no grass. Our patio is made of slate and each slate, range in size from 10 inches to about 2 feet or larger and the large ones weigh about 60 pounds or more each. Each piece is awkward to move, lift, and difficult to carry since each piece has a shape of its own and the edges are sharp.

He said, “This is the 5th time you’ve reconstructed the patio”.

“I know, but it’s not how I want it quite yet”.

He shook his head, “Don’t come crying to me when you’re hurtin’ tomorrow”.

“I won’t. I think we need more slate”.

“How about you figure the patio first, then we’ll talk buying more slate”.

“I know”.

See, I am trying to created a place of seclusion. A place of peace. When we come home from work, a place where we can sit amongst lush gardens and serenity. Our backyard is not there.

“I don’t want the retaining wall straight”, I tell him.

“What? How do you want it”?

“I want to snake it. Then, I can plant within the wall and outside of the wall. I don’t want it symetrical”.

He just looks at me.

My husband is such a good sport. He knows my ideas are crazy, but in the end he always loves it. He knows I have an eye for design. He always tries to get me to draw it out first, but I tell him no. It’s in my head how I want it to look. He goes along with it, sometimes hesitant but is happy with the end results. And he knows I won’t let it be until it’s perfect.

I could never hire a contractor or a landscaper because it would be a long, way to telling them exactly what I want and they would end up firing me.

Below is a picture of it unfinished, as you can see the snake of retaining wall. I want to add a couple of patio trees but he won’t let me buy anymore plants until I get this patio thing finished.

Image by Robin Moreau

I have a long way to go, it’s only May. My goal is to complete it, with plants AND frog pond by end of summer. And when it’s complete, I will need another large project. But I don’t know what.

And yes, my body is screaming pain today. But I won’t admit it to you-know-who….

Burgers and Stolen Cosmos

Road trip! Not really. With all of the snow we can finally get out of our drive and get the heck out of dodge. Well, we got in the Dodge…actually Chrysler, and headed to the city.

It rained all the way there and snow is still piled up. On the sides of the highway, the snow is less than white and looks more like crumbled cookies and cream, as my daughter’s friend would say. But it kind of does look like cookies and cream.

As we drove, the weather was dreary and the gray skies over salty waters were a pleasant change to being snow bound.

Image by Robin Moreau

No rain could possibly ruin my parade because I was getting a burger!!!

Image by Robin Moreau

My husband was craving a burger and we had to drive over an hour to get it because it is the only burger and fries joint I can eat. And let me tell you, that lettuce wrapped burger and hot salty fries was so good.

On the way home we stopped at the mall. Who doesn’t shop after a burger? Gotta work that burger off!

All I know it was so freaking cold! I was ready to be home in my jammies and slippers. We stopped to get coffee and we were homebound.

The dogs were beyond happy to see us. Then I found it. An empty bag of Coconut Cosmos. The evidence was in our bedroom.

Image by Robin Moreau

It was my husband’s favorite snack. I’m pretty sure it was Pepper who did it. She has a bad habit of jumping on the furniture, then over to the end table to steal things. Last time we caught her stealing a Nutter Butter. I told her to drop it, but she held onto it tightly and raced through the house, ravishing it as she ran.

Image by Robin Moreau

When asked, she blankly stared me. My husband had said it was a full bag. Oy! I guess we’ll find out later if she was truly the culprit and it’s not going to be pretty.


Well, in my defense, I was left unsupervised.

These apocalyptic snowmen are dedicated to my big brothers….who have both taught me to have a sense of humor. Even if it is a little sick and twisted (as my sister would say)!

Image by Robin Moreau
Image by Robin Moreau
Image by Robin Moreau

My husband is so not going to be happy with me. Since this is in the front yard.

For those of you who can’t handle this, here is a cute bunny. You know, to soften the mind a bit.

Image by Robin Moreau
Image by Robin Moreau

Scare Tactic

It’s amazing how after 27 years of marriage we blend into the walls. I don’t say this to be negative. We are immune to each other, which is a good thing because it means over the years, what once would make us bitter toward each other, we now can let go.

The first ten years of our marriage we would purposely scare each other. Now it comes natural. Not too long ago I was standing in front of the fire place and I heard my husband come in from the garage. It was really cold that day. He was intently playing a game on his iPad and was walking over to the fireplace toward me. I thought he had seen me. I didn’t say anything. He walked right up to me and when realizing I was blocking the warmth, not expecting me to be standing there either, he looked up from his iPad and yelled and jumped out of his skin. I just stood there, not saying a word. He had many words to say. Not nice. I grinned. This is what keeps us alive. One more for Robin, check.

Sometimes when I’m not paying any attention, he will come in from the garage and I don’t hear him. He just appears. He’s just there. In my face. And I scream like a girl. Then ask him why he does that. And he laughs.

By all means he has gotten me back. Several times. But not purposely. We have kids for that now. One of these days their scare tactics will make one of us drop dead. It will probably be me. But what goes around….

The Death of a Fan

I can’t turn off the fan above the stove. It’s possessed and I’m not happy about it. Suddenly it decides it will have a mind of its own. I was so angry I took the hammer to it. Seriously, I really did. My son fell out laughing. “Mom’s lost her mind!” I pounded the on/off button several times with the hammer and nothing. I’ve left dents. I don’t care. I finally had to walk away.

But I can’t. I won’t. Walking away from the noise is torture. I won’t be able to sleep knowing the stupid drone of that stupid fan is still on. Only 10 minutes passed and I pound the tiny button again. Nothing. I might as well pluck my hair out strand by strand. Less torture than the drone of that stupid fan.

We need a new one. This one isn’t that old. There is something about this brand. The broiler blew up and caught fire not too long ago. The moment was like being in welding class. Scared me so bad I didn’t know which way to run. It’s only a few years old. Seared the metal right in half. My husband told me I was over exaggerating until he walked into the kitchen, saw all the smoke and then looked at the metal piece, warped and burnt. It looked kind of like a marshmallow held over a campfire. “DAAAAMN” He slowly said. “See? I’m not trippin’!”

I’m obsessed in turning this fan off. If I don’t, I swear it will blow the house up….just like the broiler. The whole house, POOF BE GONE. My husband laughs. It’s not funny. My son asks sarcastically, “what’s going on, mom? You taking the hammer to it? Is that working for you, mom? Hmmm? Is it?” I ignore his remarks. There is a reason why animals eat their young.

I beat the button a few more times. I pour a martini. I won’t sleep with the noise. The fan is on the other side of our bedroom wall. What architect builds a kitchen on the same side as the master bedroom? Our architect. That’s who. Never again!!! I pound the button to change the fan down to level one. It’s not as loud but still noticeable.

I curl up on the couch with my dog and open my tablet. I read the news, look at Pinterest, drink my martini. I can still hear it. I get up and walk into the kitchen. My dog is now annoyed because I won’t stay still.

I pound the button again. 10 minutes later I’m whining and complaining. I fix some hot tea. Relentlessly pounding the button hoping the fan will turn off. My husband walks into the kitchen. “You still trying to get it to turn off?” “It’s suicide!!!! I can’t stand it!!!” I’m totally annoyed now. It is my mission to shut this thing down. Even if it takes me all night. I pop a couple of Tylenol. My head is pounding.

I sit down with my dog again. My husband walks into the kitchen. I can hear him tapping the button then he gives up. He mutters something under his breath. Then walks out to the garage. I hear a beep…then silence. My husband walks back into the living room.

“Did you get it to turn off?” I asked.

“I flipped the breaker.”

Woooow. I spent the last hour pounding the crap out of this thing and he just flips the breaker. Just like that. He couldn’t have thought of this an hour ago? Wait…I couldn’t have thought of this?!?

He laughs while rustling the dog’s ears, “that noise was driving mama CRAZY, yes it was!”

I sit. I glare. I drink my tea.

I let out a sigh. I hate that noise. I hate it. But now there is silence. I will sleep.