Food for thought

Okay, I must admit Halloween was a tad more stressful than usual around here.

I had continued to come up empty on the skeleton costume until just this week, but a friend found an awesome jumpsuit with front and back glow-in-the-dark bones, shoe covers, gloves, and a mask that X probably won't wear. (I may just stuff it, drape gummy worms out of the eye sockets, and put it over a winter hat as hey, it's going to be 40 degrees.) Thanks Pam!

Technically, I didn't buy it until all other options were exhausted. Although I could have sewn it, I was exhausted.

I'm helping with L's 2nd grade Halloween party this afternoon. Props for awesome party planning by Karen (check out her store at www.motherearthgardens.com ) but she is deathly ill so I'm pinch hitting.

I was on for making cupcakes, frosted a la zombie, which is all the rage. I used cream cheese frosting, a tad of red, yellow, green food coloring, and a piping bag. Mind you, I dreamed about how I was going to do these last night - including a confectionary catastrophe that involved a last minute trip to Michael's for supplies. So when I woke to find I really did not have the right piping tip for the frosting, it was a tad eerie. I had one of the flower ones, too ridgy for brains. I was inspired to make one out of plastic, but then just took some pliers and bent back the points on the flower tip, so it gave undulating irregularities. Creepy enough for you?

Some of you more anatomically-aware types may notice the prefrontal cortex is a tad underdeveloped. Well, it's the seat of judgement and isn't fully mature til your mid-20's, so there.

These will be served along with string cheese with carrot fingernails, and swamp juice (food coloring + juice + gummi worms).

Happy Halloween, everybuggy!

Ghost of a chance...

For some reason, I am out of steam with this project. Not the actual practice of buying second-hand, just the writing about it. I really thought I could make the year, and initially had little "aha!" moments daily that I would get inspired to blog* about. Not so much now. It seems like the same cycle of perceived need, attempt to rein in baser buying instincts, moderate compliance and occasional acting out. So consumer patterns are like any other human behavior, somewhat variable but always operating within individual parameters we're not aware of until we bump up against them...

* not an actual verb

I still struggle with the social pressures of consuming - and these most often come from social obligations and cultural traditions (eek! Halloween and Christmas). Hence, the birthday party gifts that I need to be more creative and proactive in obtaining through second-hand shops. That, in and of itself, hasn't been a challenge; thrift stores are treasure hunts for me. What I am having a hard time doing is letting go of the critical voice that reminds me how much better and more thoughtful a _____________ would be for darling _________.


Last weekend was a very cool birthday party at the U of MN Raptor Center, for X-man's buddy Will. Thumbs up on the emphasis on experience and education, not to mention supporting this really neat community resource! I planned to respond in kind, with giving Will a "coupon" good for an outing: lunch and shopping at the Mall of America. Not just any shop, but the hallowed halls of the Lego store, where you can buy wheels and windows in bulk!!! And like any 5 year old boy with a younger sibling prone to put small, chokey-type things in his mouth, Legos are the preferred medium for hours of creative enjoyment. Maybe it's the age, but I am acutely aware of how easily kids are disappointed - and opening a gift certificate pales in comparison to an actual rip-open-the-paper gift. Between that and a bit of a time crunch, I lost faith. My default setting - a quick trip to the Salvation Army.

For a measly $10, I found a brand-new-in-(somewhat crumpled)-box amphibious remote control vehicle. The exact one that the boys were fixated on LAST fall, in the deluge of Christmas catalogs. What are the chances? Quite the find, so I snapped it up. But my dilemma
wasn't over, as this would have been a great Christmas present for X. And to be brutally honest, I really wanted to play with it. After bitch-slapping my inner toddler, I resolved to make sure it found a home at Will's, and to include batteries. (Oops.)

They had a last-minute cancellation and were kind enough to invite L, so the kids proudly wrapped the present themselves. For some reason it also required a gift bag, so of course the one they picked out had a cartoon figure defecating with the word "Poo!" in cheery letters. Pretty darned appropriate for a 5 year old boy... sigh. It wasn't until after the party that X said how much he wanted to keep the toy himself. He didn't dwell on it, though, just consoled himself with the (errant) knowledge Mom could find another one by Christmas.

They really do believe we have superpowers. Humbling, isn't it?

But now I have a more pressing feat of derring-do - finding a skeleton costume. I KNOW I COULD MAKE ONE. Strangely, I'd rather take a nap. In desperation, I put out my plea as my Facebook status today: "Karen Mae Barnes is seeking a skeleton costume, size 6ish. Will see your skeleton and raise you a Supergirl, Batman, Jasmine, knight, fairy or Nascar driver."

So far I've struck out at Unique, Salvation Army, Savers and Craigslist. And I believe the time crunch puts Ebay out of reach. And yes, I will feel lame grabbing whatever I can find at Target. I guess that puts me in need of a black sweatsuit and some glow-in-the-dark paint. And some sort of amphetamine.

Gone crazy, back later.

Type A Minus

After 18 years of living in Minnesota, you'd think I'd learn.

Each and every year I fail to get the garden put to bed BEFORE it's covered in snow. Granted, this is pretty damn early, and hopefully it will at least stop snowing, and maybe even start melting sometime this week. Meanwhile, my garden looks quite festive, bedecked in snow balls.

Since we did invest a lot in the garden this year, I was hoping to mulch everything well and have lots of bagged leaves for next spring, especially the natives which don't do as well with bark mulch. Slight problem: leaves are still on the trees, only now they too are covered in snow.

I had also planned to bring the lavander indoors, to brighten up a gloomy winter - once I was done drying the blossoms and buds for potpourri. And a pot of mint for the kitchen - do you know what the street value of that stuff is in, say, February? There were green tomatoes to spare, and for my dad's birthday it's his favorite pie. Also basil for pesto. And more peppers than I know what to do with, so why not dry them and make ristras?

Who the hell am I kidding?

These are the projects that go through my mind, in no particular order, when I should be sleeping. And not getting to them in time is both a curse and a blessing. I'll never be out of ideas, but without the motivation to actually start any projects, I won't run myself ragged.

Yay me!

I was going to put photos in albums today and then design the custom photo calendars for Christmas. I think I'll just sit quietly until the urge passes, while watching the snow come down.

Emotional Accounting

Heck, October already???

I realize this looks bad. Me falling off the wagon with my Dana Buchman shopping spree and then the posts just... stop. I had expected someone to step forward with an intervention or at least a pleading missive to mend my ways. Apparently I overestimated my readership. Ah, well.

Was I consumed by guilt? Did I throw in the towel on this project, three-quarters of the year complete? Too ashamed to continue?

Actually, we went to DC for a week. And the kids got to spend time with a myriad of indulgent aunts/uncles/grandparents while Bob and I had an unprecedented 4 days together, child-free.
So you can imagine how disorienting all that was... plus the kids were just plain gorked, way off their schedules, and unbelievably whiny. This week I have accomplished very little, and it is enough that the urge to scream obscenities, put lambs blood on the doorway and run screaming down the street has abated, somewhat.

Excuses, excuses.

I am pleased to report I haven't purchased anything - new or used- in the last couple of weeks. Oh, wait, except for uniform shirts and socks for the kids. I have perused a few estate sales, because I am constitutionally ill-suited to walk on by. It's the voyeur in me, enjoying trying to piece together lifestories from so much stuff that's left behind. Then I look around our home - what is truly mine? What is of me enough that I'd want it forever?

As it turns out, not much. Nothing tangible, anyways.