Mrs. Olsen, I Presume?

If there's some lovin' on the offspring, reminiscing on the childhood, and growin' into some country air...then just presume, it's Mrs. Olsen.

Posts labeled “Rainbow Girl”

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Eve's Redemption

Like Eve, I am finding myself drowning in the chore of removing all the many many weeds presented before me to inflict and torment man. But Mrs. Olsen is fighting back proud. Yes! My yard sucks right now! But it's early summer and my garden is well-nigh into growing and deliciousness is but a few weeks away.....



Okay ready? Besides spuds we're growing: peas, beans, lettuce, tomatoes, squash, & corn. The miracle of corn is waiting for us yet again. Is it waiting for you too?



There's something to be said about letting your kids "work". Like the time I gave Vanilla Wafer the job of planting a row of corn while I weeded the other rows. I ended spending twice the amount of time just pulling extra seeds out of the dirt. Aaaah.



Zeolite! The Mister of the House bought a ton of this, and half of it is still sitting in my driveway. So please, if you want to buy some, I'm selling the extras.


Why should you love this stuff? Well, remember all that big wheelbarrow full of shittake mushrooms from my chickens? We mixed zeolite in with it, which binds with the ammonium and makes it so you can fertilize your garden with it. Otherwise, chicken shnicks are too "hot" and burn plant life. Zeolite also reduces watering needs and makes the best cat litter on the market.


Labels: garden, Rainbow Girl, Vanilla Wafer

Monday, June 15, 2009

Nature Crazy Getaway

When I was a mutt growing up on Apache Avenue, I was just one kid in a litter of 5. It was easy to get lost in the crowd.


I was a bit shy around new people. I was the only light-haired daughter, was pigeon-toed, and could run faster than all the boys. Those were just surface though. If anyone spent a few days with me, my guard came down and they soon learned that I could belch like a bartender, cried if anyone got mad at me, and preferred to flex and twist for hours on the trampoline over just about anything else.

This is why you should go camping with your future spouse. Make sure all those little details come to the surface. I love that process of really getting to know people. You're always in for a surprise, and quite often it's a delightful one. Like this past week, when Rainbow Girl had a 3 day sleepover with her cousin, Grace.



There's something so endearing about a bejeweled bum little girl with fashionable flip-flops being so totally obsessed with animals and nature. Even if I did get my hostess skills on for real, this kid would have had nothing to do with it. She spent hours and hours just standing, talking, and playing with the chickens.

Plus for once Mrs. Olsen didn't have to remind Rainbow Girl to get the eggs. Cousin Grace was so in tune with the Bok Bok Ladies, she brought me their eggs twice a day.

As a bonus to all these visiting cousins, Rainbow Girl got to celebrate her birthday twice.




Can you believe she's 8 years old?


So if I spent a few days with you, what would I learn?

Labels: Apache Avenue Memories, chickens, Rainbow Girl

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The Choke and Thrill of Living Things

Nearly two weeks have passed since this wee blog was updated. And I tell you what, day after day I've been thinking and runnin' around and doing other things and all the while in the back of my head rests this thought: I'm killin' the blog. I'm killin' the blog.


Oooh, news just in. Mrs. Olsen has been killing more than her blog lately.


As the elders quorum were unloading the moving van...







it's nearly enough to make one an armchair environmentalist...

i do declare: give me a Saturday without rain, a Mister of the House, and my rototiller and I shall make you proud.


but alas, there is hope for the overgrown garden....somewhere on the edge of Grandma and Grandpa's yard in the great state of I-dee-ho.


mi beating heart *adores* Rainbow Girl's upright posture with hands in the lap, Buddha Baby in 5th position, and Vanilla Wafer just being the stud in the suit with spider-fine shoes.

These things are growing like weeds, & I dare not pluck them.

Labels: Buddha Baby, garden, Keeping it Real, Rainbow Girl, Vanilla Wafer

Monday, May 25, 2009

fences

Before I was Mrs. Olsen, Memorial Day was mostly about camping trips, parties, or pre-season fun in the metropolitan state of Utah and their homegrown amusement park, Lagoon.  Blame it on my good genes, all my contributing DNA we're alive and kicking 2 and 3 generations back throughout my Apache Avenue childhood.  Who's graves were there to visit?   Memorial Day was my teaser for summer fun just around the corner.  


It was okay.  For a season.

But now I live in a valley that was settled by my and The Mister's ancestors
back in the day.  The day meaning those white folks that built permanent structures in the earth, and feared the natives, and sought religion, and worked their asses off for food.  The whole bit.  So for good or bad, they came and threw down roots.   Here in my little valley we visit their pioneer graves at an old country cemetery just a few miles from my home. 



This was back in 2005 when I was growing Vanilla Wafer in my gut. Check out Rainbow Girl in her little rain jacket. 

Look at the rolling hills! 

The settlers named this valley, Avon. They said it looked like Stratford-on-Avon, that beautiful Shakespeare country someone left in pursuit of property, religious fervor, or the American Dream. I'm sure that no matter what they were fleeing, or seeking, they missed their native home a little and welcomed these smiling hills.



It's pretty rare to get The Mister of the House to smile in a photo. Somehow, it works here.   But don't for one minute think our Memorial Day festivities are all somber.  We like to bring some life among the tombstones, and this guy (father of The Mister) usually brings a frisbee. 




 Throwing frisbees is our way of coming to the fence of those that have passed to the other side, and saying We remember!  Look how we move!  Do you miss it? Can you fly?

Tonight after visiting graves, picnics, frisbee, and sun we were chilling at home and watching a movie.  After playing in the backyard, Rainbow Girl rushed in, heart-a-fluttering, to tell us that the neighbor's horse had just escaped from his pen.  Here's the guy right here.  He shares a wall with our feathered ladies of Bok Bok Cottage.




He's probably looking off to our (other) neighbor's pasture. He's been looking over there for a month. Ever since the empty meadow became home for 3 horses, all running together and eating grass. I've been listening to them neigh and whine at each other ever since.

And then....pop!  rush!  he was free!  He bolted to the front of his property, then turned fierce and majestic, tail pitched like a flag, horse on a mission.  Our movie paused and the neighborhood froze.  Folks gathered on their porches.  

With a jolt, the horse cut through a newly seeded yard, then galloped through a vibrant barrier-free yard, turned a corner and trotted in front of our house, and then a rush to the fence along the pasture of the tri-posse that's been egging him on for a month.  Here I am!  And the 3 stooges rushed to the edge and leaned their long necks across and nuzzled.  In their excitement, they all galloped from one edge of the pasture to the other, for one moment pretending that they were a fearsome four-some. Then they softly returned to the edge of the pasture and leaned across the fence and nuzzled some more. 

And then it was over.  Back to reality, there came the bridle and orders for home.  Triumphant, the horse was led back to his lonely pasture and his side of the fence.  

And I treasure this knowledge: that on this Memorial Day in 2009 we came to the fence, and those on the other side understood and leapt for joy.

Labels: living free, Rainbow Girl, religious musings

Monday, April 13, 2009

Walking the Fine Line with Easter Fun

This Easter Weekend we made Resurrection Rolls with the kids.   With young and curious kids, I find myself walking a fine line between creative visual lesson about the resurrection and a morbid presentation on cannibalism.  I have faith in all faithful parents that they can walk the line and keep it as an awesome (and reverent) tradition for your kids.  If you are fretting that this recipe comes a day late, no worries there's always Family Home Evening to catch up on.  Here's a peek into our Easter Fun.























Read from accompanying scripture, such as John 19:38-42 and John 20.

VARIATION: If you want to represent the quiet awakening of the resurrection (and build more excitement and tension for your kids) then start your recipe in the evening:
PREHEAT OVEN TO 450 degrees
PREPARE ROLLS AND PLACE IN OVEN
IMMEDIATELY TURN OFF OVEN

In the morning they will be cooked and ready to go with your Easter Brunch.


Labels: Buddha Baby, Rainbow Girl, recipe, Vanilla Wafer

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Name That Tune

Anybody that has come to this blog for second helpings should know who the following guy is. If you're here for the first time, welcome! and please meet Rainbow Girl's first crush:



Glen Hansard. Musician. Irish. And one-time movie star in the indy film "Once" (p.s. Rainbow Girl saw the TV-version...she's seven for crying out loud).


It kindof reminds me of my first crush when I was her age.

Reminds me as far as they both have tousled shaggy hair (how cute) and that moms safely allow these crushes because it's impossible these TV studs to be in 2nd grade, chasing girls, and passing love notes.

As a kid, I didn't need love notes anyway. I had a Luke barbie-doll. Is that possible? Doesn't barbie-negate the luke? Anyway, he was the stud among the blondies and drove a cool black jeep all over my smurf blue carpet in my bedroom. Luke was amazing, passionate, and as a bonus? He had The Force. What more could a girl ask for?

For Rainbow Girl, her crush doesn't have The Force so she can't drive him around in a toy jeep. But his presence is definitely known. After Rainbow Girl showed off her favorite tune (that she finger-picked out on the piano) she discovered an unsuspecting accompanist in her Uncle Jackson. Here they are recently performing for the Olsen Clan. And in honor of shaggy TV crushes the world over, please enjoy:





Time to sign up the kid for piano lessons, eh?

Labels: Apache Avenue Memories, music, Rainbow Girl

Friday, February 6, 2009

Monkey Love

After hearing approximately three anecdotes of young girls getting unauthorized backrubs from friend's fathers, brother, or peers, Mrs. Olsen established the NO SLEEPOVERS rule for her family. We make exceptions for Grandma's and close girlie cousins, but for the most part, it's just a part of life that will hopefully be norm when we make it to the dreaded teen years. Which is why it was such a rare treat for Rainbow Girl who got to have a sleepover with our little friends, Mabel and Nell.




Apparently, we also make exceptions for soul sisters who are desperately ill with a husband on a three-day business trip. Sally, I love you and you are in my prayers.


Like myself, Sally has a NO SLEEPOVERS rule, so I was actually flattered that we could break our rules together. Ssshhh! Don't tell our kids, we think they haven't figured it out. And would you just look at them? Amid the vomit of patterns in this picture, you will find 3 little girls who each found a soft friend to snuggle them through the night : unicorn, puppy, alligator.


Back in Rainbow Girl's bedroom, her usual snuggle buddies had a cold night alone on her bed.


Plushie on the left? From Grandma Anderson. On the right? Grandma Cozy. And in the middle? Mrs. Olsen's first love.


As a kid, my family squeaked out of Apache Avenue to visit our big city cousins in Albuquerque. While there, we visited a rare building called..... a mall. And for some unknown reason to me, my mother pointed to a huge wall of stuffed animals and told me and my sister Niki "Go and pick whatever animal you want!"


I couldn't believe it. There were rows and rows of squishy animals that weren't boring teddy bears! I swiftly picked this monkey and christened him with what I considered to be the coolest and funniest name I could come up with. First, combine two gross and hilarious words: Zit &Wart; then create your own groovey moniker : Zort.






Niki, my stretched out sissy, chose a boring teddy bear and named him Chubby. Together we loved those guys night after night. It became such a habit, I had that guy cranked under my sleeping chin all the way up until high school. We had sleepovers back then (without a hitch thank goodness) so there's many witnesses to me and Niki's madness: Hackworth, Little Red, Toley, Paula, Sop, and our born as a grown-up sister Monica.


I was cured of my cuddling sesssions with Zort after winning a student election in High School. Cranked in the fetal, I laid in bed curled up with Zort under my chin only to have the covers ripped off while still in the middle of my REM cycle, by none other than the cooler older girls that were leaving office. Surprise! Early morning breakfast for the new student officers!

Dazed, I shot up in bed and swung Zort desperately on the ground against the wall. I said a quick prayer that coolgirls Liz Moss and Missy Thatcher didn't see my monkeychild, and stepped out of bed, onto Zort's head, and changed into my clothes.

My mother was warned ahead of time to make sure I was wearing PJ's and didn't shock innocent Idahoans with a sports bra and panties. Apparently she didn't think about Zort and the possible persecution I could have received when the high school learned I still cuddled with my stuffed monkey. Lucky for her no one mentioned anything, but there was still a price for this folly.



I vowed to myself my monkey love was over. Over dammit! Then I relegated him to the shelf for many many moons. And just look at that sweet face? Do you think he's forgiven me?

I eventually let him back in the bed while serving 18 months in the nunnery for my church. Three months into the mission I wrote home:


Enough is enough! Send me the monkey!

He was later replaced by a Mister of the House, and so Zort became resident plushie to Rainbow Girl. He's currently enjoying prime real estate on her bed, but he knows all too well how quickly that can change.


And Mrs. Olsen will be quick to squeeze in a one-night stand should Rainbow Girl ever. Thoughtlessly. Chuck him on the floor then step on his head before shelving him for life.




Labels: Apache Avenue Memories, Rainbow Girl

Friday, January 16, 2009

Last Music Spectacular Post

So I am resident mommy blogger this week gushing about my kid and her passion with music. When you're on a roll....keep goin' right? I needed to record one last recent memory with Rainbow Girl, mostly for her sake. Also because it was one of those tender mercies to the heart of a mother. BTW, don't you love that "tender mercy" has become the latest mormon lingo ever since Elder Bednar's fabulous talk a while back? I hear it at least once a month in testimony meeting.

So the chickens. And winter. It's been tough for Rainbow Girl a little bit. Mrs. Olsen has been doing the tango trying to draw the line between quality time vs. building a work ethic.

Rainbow Girl: Mom, can't you pleeeeeeeeez just come out to get the eggs with me?

Mrs. Olsen: No ma'am, dad already took fresh water this morning (instead of you) and you need to finish your job by yourself. You can do it!

Rainbow Girl: MoooOoom! It's dark outside and I'm scared.

Mrs. Olsen: [pause] I'll turn on the back light and keep an eye on you. I need to fix dinner okay?

Rainbow Girl: PleeeeEEEEz Mom! PLeeEEeeZ!

See the thing is, at this point in the conversation Mrs. Olsen is starting to think that it might be good to get some fresh air, and why don't we just twirl in the snow and go get the eggs together, and she's just a little girl, and she's scared...so just make it fun and be outside together.

And then? I change gears right? I go with her to get the eggs...and then what happens? She absolutely whines and pouts and gets some major sass the next day when she has to get the eggs by herself. So repeat the above conversation, but now you have a pre-emptive teenager finishing off with a 20 decibel FINE!!!! while slamming the door.

So, in order to save her from a yo-yo of emotions, and because our lovely hens and their bounty are all going to Rainbow Girl's savings...I essentially cut her off and said Nope-Nope-Nope! Hurry back and I love you!

That was a couple of months ago.

Aside from cutting her off, I try to remind her to get the eggs before dark. But once in a while, if we're all getting home late from a family party, I'll leave The Mister of the House to unload the car and sneak out with Rainbow Girl to get the eggs together.

The last time this happened was after a Christmas Party. We crunched through the snow, crossed the baby bridge, and picked up the eggs. We lingered outside and Rainbow Girl was obviously relieved and happy to have company.

Rainbow Girl: Sometimes when I come out here and it's dark, I get really scared. But I found that if I sing a Christmas song I feel happy inside and I'm not scared anymore!

Mrs. Olsen: Do you know what that feeling is sweetie?

Rainbow Girl: No.

Mrs. Olsen: It's the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost speaks to our insides and will always tell us what is truth. Sometimes we call The Holy Ghost "The Comforter". Christmas songs will speak to our hearts because they sing about Jesus!

Rainbow Girl: [silence] [smile]

Mrs. Olsen: I love you!

What a beautiful tender mercy that was. For real. I am so grateful that a loving Father helped Rainbow Girl identify a distinct change of heart, and helped me to teach her how to recognize the Spirit in our lives. Thank you!

Leave it to Mrs. Olsen's divine maternal instincts to throw a terrified kid into the dark and her overactive imagination. Grateful we have back-up in a loving Heavenly Father who made it all turn out all right (no...I'm not feeling guilty about throwing a kid scared of the dark into the vast dark backyard. I'm not getting the eggs!).

This video clip is mostly for my parents in Hawaii, who missed Rainbow Girl standing proudly in front of our ward (a.k.a. congregation) and sang "The Little Drummer Boy" with me. Here we are repeating the act at the extended family Christmas Party. Love you kid!



Labels: chickens, music, Rainbow Girl, religious musings