Sunday Reading

What have you been reading lately?

While my kids are reading fun stuff (the new Heather Brewer book is in the house!) I've been putting together a holiday gift article for CapeWomenOnline and looking through books that might make fun gifts. I found a winner in Chuck Sambuchino's HOW TO SURVIVE A GARDEN GNOME ATTACK. Two thumbs way up - If you know anyone with garden gnomes or a history with garden gnomes (Liam, I'm thinking of you...) this book makes a perfect gift!

Here's an excerpt from the article that will appear in the Holiday Issue of the magazine, including links to buy the book from the publisher:

How to Survive a GARDEN GNOME ATTACK by Chuck Sambuchino is a tongue-firmly-in-cheek book detailing home defense against deadly gnomes. Yes, the red-hatted, white-bearded garden variety. Filled with faux serious advice and wonderful action photographs by Andrew Parsons, the book begins with the line: “Keep reading if you want to live.”

The slim 112-page hardcover gives the reader “vital” information on assessing risk, gnome-proofing homes and gardens, and instructions for hand-to-hand combat, including a section entitled “Ten Tips that Could Save Your Life.” It’s a fast, funny romp of a read that’s guaranteed to make a reader smile if not laugh out loud.

While seed catalogs are usually all a gardener wants to read during the long winter months, this little “How To” guide makes a wonderful counterpoint to the more serious business of farming and gardening. Because, really. What good is picking out the right seeds from Johnny’s Selected Seeds or the right tools from Gardener’s Supply if in the end the gnomes take over your garden?

Puppy Passes Another Milestone

Then.

Now.

The passage of time is a wondrous thing. It can drag on forever or snap by in the blink of an eye. Children and puppies keep growing, whether time is in a slow curve or a fast spiral.

April Puppy.

September Puppy.

Now granted, she's big. But she won't even be 8 months old until next week. Next Monday. It's not her un-birthday quite yet. So what's the milestone? Well...

I took Big Dog to the vet yesterday for her annual physical (which, by the way, has gotten way pricey in the last few years, yowza!) Puppy loves car rides and insisted on tagging along. She waited patiently in the parking lot.

When Big Dog was done, I asked if I could bring my Puppy in for a weight check. The tech laughed a lot when she got a load of "Puppy." It took forever to get her on the scale - she refused to be bribed, so I ended up lifting her, piece by piece.

17 pounds in April.

105 pounds in September.

She officially weighs more than Big Dog now. Outweighs her by 10 pounds. I still had 200 pounds of dog on the leash when we left, but in my mind the balance had definitely shifted.

What's your milestone for the week?

Have You Ever Stomped Grapes?

Have you ever been to a Grape Stomp? We certainly hadn't - but it sounded fun! The Truro Vineyards (in Truro, of course) hosts a Jazz festival and grape stomp as part of "Truro Treasures" weekend. It's all small town, community-building type fun, and happens every fall. Today at the Vineyard there was a craft fair, wine tastings, food vendors, live bands... and an actual grape stomp.

The workers poured crate after crate filled with grapes into a large wooden vat and announced, "Okay kids, time to jump in!"

Honestly, it's not only the kids who jumped for it. There were plenty of grown-up type folks who'd seen Lucille Ball do this in black and white a lo-o-o-ng time ago, and just couldn't resist.

It was quite crowded at first, so that it was hard to even take photos, but the novelty wore off quickly as parents realized that grape stains don't come out, and kids realized that cold grapes squishing between your toes doesn't make for long term enjoyment. My daughter and a few others were the exceptions, with parents that didn't mind the stains and toes that found the squishing to be intensely fun.
My daughter and her new friend Peyton were among the last to leave the stomping vat. Another little boy wanted to be the very last one. He kicked grapes at my daughter (note the stains all the way up her legs) but then he promptly (and deservedly) fell on his bottom. Boom. Splat. Grapes stuck everywhere. His parents dragged him out of the vat.

My proud wine maker. She's never seen that episode of "I Love Lucy" ... but when she does, she can honestly say, "Hey! I've done that! I even got into a grape fight (sort of) in the vat!"

If you get a chance, you should try this. She give it two thumbs (and ten crimson-colored toes) way up.

Just Write It.

I started the week with a walk on this beach. It was inspiring and overwhelming in its beauty. I couldn't wait to get home and write the scenes that ran through my head as the dogs and I hiked along the sandy shores.

I've written nothing this week.

I've sat down at the computer every day. I've sent tons of emails, mostly to people who've written or want to write for the magazine. And edited the pages I wrote last week. And tweaked. And surfed the 'net. And worked on target market sell sheets for the magazine. And researched. And. And. And.

My desk is a lived-in mess. But I haven't written anything new. Now it's Friday. Do I really want my word count for the week to be a big ol' goose egg? I think not.

Stop blogging. Start writing.