soccer moms, single moms. nascar moms. any type of mom.

Today I went out to the Farm, which I hadn’t been to in about five weeks. It felt strange, like a visit to one’s own dorm room from back in the day. Good times, but kind of a shudder / gag reflex at the same time. I returned because we (the workshare program) are building a new kitchen for next year’s season and we need to get a group effort going to do make this happen.

I almost loathe voluntary group projects for the exact breakdown that happened today. There is me, edgy and certain we can proceed at a reasonably quick clip (we can’t; groups can’t, and there is a valid set of reasons for this). There are the dreamers who sketch drawings or talk bout “what ifs…” or offer pie-in-the-sky brainstorming points (OK, these have their value but are useless without a plan to follow through). There are the naysayers that have little to offer except criticisms of other’s thoughts and comments (while often their “counterpoints” have little factual or relevant evidence to back them up). Did I mention that often these projects don’t have a leader? My theory is any project, no matter how small, needs one.

In my special case, I brought not only my intellect, my group leadership abilities, my experience (as a frequent cook for the group), and computer-savvy willingness to help – I also brought my two children who, for lack of any other constructive activity or willing adult compatriot, ran about, climbed on kitchen pots and pans, answered the phone, and as it turned out actually ate pieces of a large dessicated dragonfly carcass. I stayed as long as I could then bid the group farewell, impressed that I’d put in a showing despite the fact I knew I couldn’t stay for the whole meeting. Which was probably just as well.

The other day Sophie wrote this on the computer:

“Sophie Daddy Mama Nels loves Blackie so much.”

She asked for help spelling “much”, that was it. Smart cookie. She’ll be at her Mama’s 110 WPM in no time.

In Nels news, he crapped his pants today.

Me? I’m proud that I figured out how to type a tilde. Which comes in surprisingly handy. I’m a huge jalapeño fan.

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