![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Have i complained about the drama that is my brother's family's visit? If not, just know it is drama. In Friday's episode, Dad is at his limit of dealing with my mother's meltdowns. (I mentioned he ran away from home last Saturday?) My sister went over to their place early to attempt to detox the situation, i went over with Carrie in time to arrive a bit after my brother did. He's recovering from some surgery of the mouth and was avoiding percosets and thus was having to cope with pain. Carrie needed to run, so we all ended up sitting under the (youngish) pecan tree in their pasture, with Elijah the horse drinking lite beer out of my cupped hand, Carrie racing around like a crazy think, and the rest of us having a long relaxing bit of chatting.
Mom couldn't remember what fireflies were called, but was delighted when she noticed them. She said she hadn't seen them for a long time. I note that they have fewer than we do. I assume the large pasture mono-culture of bahaia grass is not conducive.
I also notice how sandy their soil is: they live in a triassic basin, stretchmarks on the continent. My sister L, just across the Haw river has great soil -- because it's so rocky and no one could farm it to death. Me, i'm pretty sure the topsoil long washed away with poor farming practices and i'm stuck with clay, clay, and look, more clay! I complain, but it holds water well, so once a plant gets roots in past the brick horizon -- my term for the hard rock-like surface that develops as it dries out -- they don't need that much watering. And i can tell that i am creating happy soil in the garden: it's clearly becoming more crumbly and less clay-clod like.
Today, the drama gets underway with the arrival of my brother's clan on a red eye from California. That just sounds great: a bunch of already rambunctious kids, now sleep deprived. My sister will be taking her kids over as soon as reasonable for cousin time. I will be avoiding the gathering until dinner time.
None of this sounds as drama worthy as i hinted. Especially not the soil digression. The way my mother creates her own stress --she had my father cleaning windows in advance of the arrival, and they fought over the bucket to use -- has a good bit to do with the fact that they have deeply antagonized my brother's wife and that my brother's two youngest kids are perceived to be entitled brats. I will witness that the adopted daughter is a spoiled princess. And all the kids together are somewhere on the tornadic scale of destruction. However, my mother and sister talk about my brother's younger son as if he was a psychopath. My mother worries my brother's sons will take advantage of my sister's daughter. This seems rather over the top to me.
Inhale. Exhale.
Also, sneeze and sniffle. Something has overpowered the Allegra to give me allergies.
Meanwhile, i really ought to go dig potatoes and fix the chipper. The flashlight plus magnet on a stick revealed that the screw is NOT in the area between the plate and the housing wall that is too narrow for the magnet to fit. Thank heavens for small wins.
I did try the sewing machine last night: i am delighted with it. Yes, my old machine is probably more rugged: this machine clearly has much more plastic. On the other hand, this machine is much more quiet and much lighter, so i can imagine it being less of a production to get it out and (more importantly) put it up.
I think my first work will be to overcast the edge of some rags made out of stretch corduroy from old pants. I've been using them as disposable rags recently but they seem to have great absorbancy and a wonderfully soft texture. If i can keep them from shedding the little cordoroy plush bits, i think they'd make good rags for a longer term. (Oh, they might make good liners for my tea tray despite clearly showing the tea stains.) The next project that isn't mending will be to finish a scarf printed with one of my California flower images. Then i have tea towels and matching produce bags on the list as Christmas gifts. I'm planning on printing up the fabric with a repeating image of colorful corn kernels. I'm hoping i can adjust the image so distortions from the cob curvature and camera perspective are removed. If not that, i will go take a picture of our giant chicken sculpture, Alice.
Mom couldn't remember what fireflies were called, but was delighted when she noticed them. She said she hadn't seen them for a long time. I note that they have fewer than we do. I assume the large pasture mono-culture of bahaia grass is not conducive.
I also notice how sandy their soil is: they live in a triassic basin, stretchmarks on the continent. My sister L, just across the Haw river has great soil -- because it's so rocky and no one could farm it to death. Me, i'm pretty sure the topsoil long washed away with poor farming practices and i'm stuck with clay, clay, and look, more clay! I complain, but it holds water well, so once a plant gets roots in past the brick horizon -- my term for the hard rock-like surface that develops as it dries out -- they don't need that much watering. And i can tell that i am creating happy soil in the garden: it's clearly becoming more crumbly and less clay-clod like.
Today, the drama gets underway with the arrival of my brother's clan on a red eye from California. That just sounds great: a bunch of already rambunctious kids, now sleep deprived. My sister will be taking her kids over as soon as reasonable for cousin time. I will be avoiding the gathering until dinner time.
None of this sounds as drama worthy as i hinted. Especially not the soil digression. The way my mother creates her own stress --she had my father cleaning windows in advance of the arrival, and they fought over the bucket to use -- has a good bit to do with the fact that they have deeply antagonized my brother's wife and that my brother's two youngest kids are perceived to be entitled brats. I will witness that the adopted daughter is a spoiled princess. And all the kids together are somewhere on the tornadic scale of destruction. However, my mother and sister talk about my brother's younger son as if he was a psychopath. My mother worries my brother's sons will take advantage of my sister's daughter. This seems rather over the top to me.
Inhale. Exhale.
Also, sneeze and sniffle. Something has overpowered the Allegra to give me allergies.
Meanwhile, i really ought to go dig potatoes and fix the chipper. The flashlight plus magnet on a stick revealed that the screw is NOT in the area between the plate and the housing wall that is too narrow for the magnet to fit. Thank heavens for small wins.
I did try the sewing machine last night: i am delighted with it. Yes, my old machine is probably more rugged: this machine clearly has much more plastic. On the other hand, this machine is much more quiet and much lighter, so i can imagine it being less of a production to get it out and (more importantly) put it up.
I think my first work will be to overcast the edge of some rags made out of stretch corduroy from old pants. I've been using them as disposable rags recently but they seem to have great absorbancy and a wonderfully soft texture. If i can keep them from shedding the little cordoroy plush bits, i think they'd make good rags for a longer term. (Oh, they might make good liners for my tea tray despite clearly showing the tea stains.) The next project that isn't mending will be to finish a scarf printed with one of my California flower images. Then i have tea towels and matching produce bags on the list as Christmas gifts. I'm planning on printing up the fabric with a repeating image of colorful corn kernels. I'm hoping i can adjust the image so distortions from the cob curvature and camera perspective are removed. If not that, i will go take a picture of our giant chicken sculpture, Alice.