The Monkey Barrel

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I don’t know where my head is lately but I imagine it’s somewhere inside all the books and resources I’ve been organizing to start our first year of HOMESCHOOLING!!!!!!!! (Insert horror movie scream here) I’m going to have a lot less time to blog and such once school gets going but I plan to post pertinent info on our journey into this new adventure. I am equal parts full of terror and excitement to be teaching my boys and full of prayer on both ends that this really is what God has lead us to do. YIKES!!

So in all my prep I have become an organizing machine. A few days ago I cleaned up the pantry and sorted out the junk drawers and went through a massive stack of papers and other weirdness that had started hissing at me every time I passed it by.

One of my organizing tips I learned from my dear friend Jini (HI Jini!!) who lives up in Ohio. On the back of her kitchen door she has a shoe organizer, but there is nary a shoe to be found in this nifty device. Oh no, she had diapers, wipes, pocket tissues, sunscreen, hats, gloves, you name it. The contents in the pockets varied by season but I caught the bug and started using them in my own home.

I started simply with the one in our front hall closet. I keep hats, gloves, sunscreen, bug repellant, swim diapers, soccer cleats, baby shoes, shin guards, rain ponchos, and other sundry items that float around in everyone’s hall closet.

And then I branched out into the boys rooms. We tucked in nerf darts, small nerf guns, dress up gloves, webkinz, and other small toys that could fit in the pockets. Now mind you, they don’t always end up where they belong and the things way up at the tippy top rarely make an appearance out of their pockets, but they loved the idea and it has definitely helped with the mess on their floor!

I don’t have pictures of the cute one in the master bath but I have all kinds of brushes and hair do da’s and hair products and lotions and such in that one. I’m gonna get one for the baby’s room next for all his little stuffed animals and such on the bottom and all the other miscellany a baby’s room collects.

My favorite so far is the one I just added for the pantry. Can you feel the excitement spilling out of me??? There are pockets for plastic serveware, straws, individually wrapped snacks, bags of soup and/or rice sides, bags of sure jell and other neat items I pick up at mom n pop grocer stores. The possibilities are really endless. Soup and dressing mixes, spices, pasta, condiments, drink mixes and on and on and on…

If I had another door I would totally have one full of art supplies for the kids but months payday I’m on to organizing the laundry room. (more screaming horror movie lady) So if you’re short on space, heavy on small items and in need of some organization inspiration, then I hope you’ve found a muse here today. Happy sorting!!

Columbus Ohio is home to the Singing Buckeyes Barber Shop chorus and each year these guys sponsor a camp to engender the love of sweet harmonies and good music learning in young kids. Yes, you heard me right, barber shop choruses not only still exist but they have found a home in our new generations. Years ago, my sister in law Darlene got involved through her husbands barber shopping hobby. Within a short time, Dar was hired on to run the office and those duties included putting together the Harmony Camp. Darlene took up the camp with gusto and ran with it.

I can’t give you specific numbers on how many kids used to attend the camp, but I can tell you it grew to over 300 participants this year and they experienced one of the best camps on record this summer. Dar throws herself, heart and soul, into making this week long event something that these kids will remember for the rest of their lives. The concert event showcasing what the individual quartets and campers as a whole have learned is beyond amazing. And every year, Dar gets a standing O for the work she puts in to pull it off.

So todays Monkey Tune offering is an homage to one of my favorite, hard working people on the face of the planet, in honor of the heart she splits open and hands over for a few months out of the year, to give some extremely talented kids a fantastic week. Here’s to you Dar! I love ya!

Break out the kleenex for this one folks!

Many moons ago I propelled Fred into the land of blue grass with a free concert in the pouring down rain to see Nickel Creek at Harbor Park. Prior to that event, his primary music of choice was rap. Now, don’t get me wrong, I can dig that at the right time and in the right place. Generally in the gym trying to get a workout on. Get’s me pumped. However, not something I wanna hear all the time. The beat pounds my brain into mush eventually and then my mind becomes numb.

So he started finding his own niche’ in my world of music and one of the bands that became a constant were The Greencards. They were made up of three aussies and their sound is more of a bohemian/acoustic/country/blue grass feel. It’s extremely unique and I confess, it didn’t used to be my bag of tea, so to speak. I’m not really sure why.

Eventually, with perpetual play, they grew on me and when we trekked out for Merlefest, to our delight, they were on the schedule and Fred would finally get to see one of his mandolin heroes live. Wahooo!! But boy were we in for a surprise.

Not following live music very well at the time, we didn’t know they had garnered new fiddle and guitar players. To our utter astonishment, these guys blew us out of the water. We expected greatness from Carol and Kym, having been listeners for ages, but Tyler and Jake rocked the stage. Most of you know my penchant for the fiddle and how it speaks to me, and Tyler did it true justice. Jake, was a powerhouse on the guitar and I cannot wait to see him live again with his new band so John can see what real practice leads to.

So if you’re tired of your worn out play list and looking for something to give it a unique twist I highly recommend you check out The Greencards latest offering Fascination and give some more starving artists some dough for dinner! My favorites on the album are Outskirts of Blue, Davey Jones, The Water in the Well and The Crystal Merchant. The latter of which I have worn to an absolute frazzle! And here’s a little sample of what we got to hear down at Merlefest.

So yeah, I’m all turned upside down from our schedule and forgot to post yesterday in the madness. So I”m a day late but I already have my idears for next week and it’ll be on time.
In the meantime….

This fantastic outfit called church on the move is producing some seriously funny videos so I thought I’d share two with you that oughta be sponsored by depends. Strap one on and put the coke down unless you wanna clean off the snot/coke spray off your pc when you choke on it after watching these silly people

So I completely intended for this post to be on Thursday but when you have guests in town your whole schedule goes topsy turvy and nothing turns up the way you like. But in all the mayhem and scurrying about we had an absolute blast with the Parkers and are beyond blessed to have them as family friends.

To the task at hand, I begin my next phase of blogdom regularity and bring to you (a bit early, or late depending on how you view it) Thrifty Thursday..but on Monday. It’s just gnawing at me to post my latest thrifting escapade and naught can cure it but to bring my latest deals to you!

There are a few shops around these parts that I’ve been going to for years like the DAV out off Virginia Beach Blvd. I’ve been frequenting them since I was small enough to fit in the shopping carts and I don’t think I’ve ever been in their doors and walked away empty handed. Since moving out to Chesapeake we are often found scavenging the CHKD thrift on Battlefield Blvd and just this past week I was introduced to the wonders of Thrift USA on Little Creek Blvd. It makes my happy little heart squeal, ” Cheap Cheap Cheap!” in delight. Here is a taste and rundown of what I gleaned last week.

This little gem was .99 cents empty and is now my kids craft caddy for glue, staplers, erasers, tape, and pencil sharpeners. Score 1

This sweet little jug is a fantastic addition to my growing pitcher collection. I picked her up for 2.50

I tried to resist the urge to buy silk flowers but succumbed when I found this for 4.00 A little more than I like to play but she’ll be a beaut at Christmas time.

These two lampshades were 5 dollars for the pair.

These pictures are becoming a trend for me. I love the artistry and texture in them and it just kills me to see something hand crafted in a bin for 2 bucks. But I ain’t complainin about the price!!

Scored this set of copper canisters for a total of 7 bucks.

3.00 pants

1.50 skirt brand new with tag still on!!!!

3.00 shirt

This dress was only 12 bucks but I”m gonna have to do some tailoring on it to fit cause it’s a size 18 and its too big… wahoooo!!!

And the grand finale and item that made me swoon was this beauty

For 10 dollars I picked up this vintage ironing board in beautiful working condition with hardly a scratch or trace of rust upon it. I LOVE it!!!

I don’t wanna really do the math to total it up cause I’m lazy and my kids are restless and frankly need baths, but I got some great deals and steals this past week and have been all kinds of fidgity to share my good fortune. I love me some thriftin!

When you are of a certain girth, there comes a point where you openly make fun of yourself. I’m not sure if it comes from a sense of trying to let others around know that you’re aware of your size or to poke fun at yourself before they do, or if it’s just that fat jokes are funny and if you’re the proverbial butt of them then you can laugh at them AND be politically correct. I think in my case, it’s just part of my life, and I can find funny in just about everything. Even in cellulite.

Most of my friends are seriously skinny. I try to refrain from a need to shovel carbohydrates into them stat upon sight but frankly, I see people, any people and I must feed them. Maybe it’s a subconscious act on my part to try to bring them up to a level playing field so I can feel akin to their adorableness and also to be able to shop for the REALLY cute things in the skinnier section of the thrift stores. Who knows. At any rate, poking fun at my girth around friends who love me generally brings a smile, a snicker, but more often, a guffaw. And it’s pretty much all true. I can’t make stuff like this up.

Case in point. Yesterday I went to button my favorite brown pants and the button popped off. I felt it on my thumb nail and then it disappeared. I never heard it clatter to the ground or ricochet off my thigh or skitter under a cabinet. It was just gone. I looked for it. Nowhere to be found. So I took the pants off and put some others on. I knew later I’d find it tucked in some fat roll or another upon my personage.

Sure enough, a trip to the thrift store in the afternoon with girlfriends and I’m in the dressing room. I found a few cute things for once but before handing over the dough I needed to be sure they’d encircle my ponderosa. Took my pants off and clink clank clunk the button comes rolling out of, you guessed it, one of my fat rolls. Having told the above story about it’s loss to my girl friends, I call out, “Hey, I found my button!” and hear hysterical myrth on the outside of my changing room. They giggle the question, “Where?” and I laugh back, “Right where I toldja it’d be. It was tucked in a fat roll!”. I hear the lady in the stall next to me smother a chuckle. I exit the room with my button safely tucked in a pocket this time and with 4 items that fit. And the next time you lose a button, you just may find it in an unexpected place and will remember my plight and have a laugh in spite of yourself or perhaps, because of yourself. Cause hey, fat’s funny, particularly when it’s yours.

One of the unfortunate things that Fred has to deal with in being married to me is my strange, almost psychedelic dreams. I mean we’re talking hittin crack pipe, purple haze kind of freakness. Pregnancy amps the odd meter by a thousand fold. The first three months of this one resulted in some weirdness I’d wake him up to tell him in the middle of the night simply because I NEEDED to share it and I knew he’d be too out of it to remember what a loon I am. The last few months were pleasantly devoid of them as long as I kept the tv on to occupy my brain while I slept. Much to my chagrin, the dreams returned in force night before last. The first night I dreamed that Fred died and I spent the whole night planning his funeral and deciding how to keep our house and support our kids all while being a single parent. It was awful. I woke up at least 8 times and hoped amidst sobs that I would move on to dreaming something else but it just kept on going. I suppose you could say that’s a normal fear and something that everyone dreams about when you get married and have kids at some point. But seriously the vividness was awful. I couldn’t stop hugging and kissing him all night when I’d wake up and needless to say, he woke up very tired and worn and couldn’t figure out why he didn’t get much sleep. It took me a full day to tell him because every time I just thought about it I’d start to break down. And woe be unto the person who makes this pregnant shipwreck start crying. Once it starts there’s virtually no way to stem the tide. So then last night I dream about some monkey/ man person who broke into our house and started slinging his own poop at us. Gross I know and probably unnecessary to share, but this is what I’m dealing with people. I am almost afraid to go to sleep tonight for fear of what’s lurking in my subconscious. I’ll keep you posted as long as it doesn’t get any more disgusting than fecal flinging.

Clearly at 3:30 in the a.m. tired and worn out do not begin to accurately describe how lousy I feel. This poor baby hanging on for dear life in my exhausted womb has really been in for a ride. It seems like every text book thing that can go wrong in a pregnancy, so far, has. And having no prior experience with it makes it all the more frustrating. John and Luke’s pregnancies were energetic and smooth. Granted both boys were night and day when they were actually birthed, but getting them into the world, I don’t wanna say piece of cake but…. So poor Noah gets the ride of his life and I’ll just bet when he’s born I’ll get quite an earful of “what for’s”.
This hour or so between the midnight and wee hours of the morning every night is starting to become a new routine. I have a small ritual to try to combat it but tonight it just wasn’t cutting it. Around 2-ish I wake up, pee for the umpteenth time (and I only mention that because if you’ve ever been pregnant you know how annoying it is when your bladder is being a whiner like the kid on vacation who won’t quit asking if we’re there yet), so, pee for the umpteenth time, gulp down 2 or 3 dixie cups full of water so as to make the next visit to the lieu less depressing, try to find something boring on t.v., fight with the covers, roll a snoring Fred over, fidget with the fan if I’m too hot or too cold, give up in disgust, hike downstairs to fiddle with the air, eat a piece of buttered bread and grab a glass of juice. Then I usually wait a few minutes to see if trekking back upstairs will be worth it or if I should just sack out the rest of the night on the couch. It’s a crap shoot which wins. I guess I should get used to it, because soon enough, there will be a wee little man in his bassinet by my bed demanding my attention whether I rise on my own or had to be wailed into waking.
Oh, and by the by, I was in Barnes and Noble today wandering, smelling books and touching pages. I love the texture of papers and binding and the smell is more intoxicating and heady than any baked good or coffee brewing, though the mix of textiles and Starbucks together is admittedly quite like heaven. Anyway, I digress, it’s 4 now, I think I’m allowed. So I’m in there wandering around, not looking for anything particularly more than the good conversation with a cousin in from the west and perhaps a little something to bring home to the rugrats and I find an old game that has been newly packaged into a handy little traveling case. It’s called Pass the Pigs. If you have children old enough to roll dice, you have children old enough to play. You designate a score keeper and then each person takes a turn tossing the pigglets. How they land determines the points you get. Each set of positions they land in has a silly name and it makes great fun for young and old alike. I’m planning to keep the set in my bag for all the long restaurant waits and all the other times fidgety little boys need occupying. I highly recommend a set for all of you and your chi’ren and they are small enough and cheap enough to be a great addition to any stocking for Christmas. And yeah, I’m thinking about Christmas already, hellooooo I have a baby coming in Nov. If I”m not done by the end of October you’ll all be getting clearance halloween decorations from the Arters clan.
It’s 4:15 and I think I can finally pack it in and get a bit of sleep now before Luke is pouncing on the covers 6:30. Nighty Night….

John has been anxious all summer to find out who his teacher will be. He only knew one name and evidently if you can get a teacher in this elementary school, Mr. Beach is the one to get. Well lo and behold not only did John get Mr. Beach but 3 of his favorite neighborhood buddies are also gonna be in his class. I think that’s a good and bad thing. Poor Mr. Beach my have to separate a very chatty group of boys to maintain order.
We were talking about if over dinner and Luke gets all excited and asks when we can go see the ocean. Fred and I look at each other confused for a minute and then realize that Luke thinks that John’s going to the beach for school. It took several tries to convince him that Mr. Beach was a person not a place. I’m still not sure he gets it. But he sure gets excited when we talk about him. Gonna have to take him with us to open house just so he can see for sure that Mr. Beach is a man, not sand.

In having a conversation with my sister in law we were discussing what she wanted for her birthday. First she says world peace and I question who’s world exactly. Then with zero enthusiasm in her voice, “Clothes”, she says, “I guess”. So I ask if she likes my taste or should I get her a gift card to somewhere she likes. After a decidedly long pause, she says she likes my taste and frankly detests shopping for herself. I detected an air of discouragement. So while trying to convince her that her main problem is that she has no self confidence and way underestimates herself when clothes shopping, I, yes me, had a brilliant idea. (besides the, I’d club a baby seal to be as small as her idea) I’m gonna adopt her. Oh yeah, I said adopt. It’s the perfect solution. When I have the urge to buy something cute, and small, and girly, I can go buy it for her instead of imagining those cute Charlotte Russ clothes I’d always have to pay double to purchase two of and then rip apart and stitch the two items together so as to encompass my own personal girth. Then we both get two distinct needs filled and I won’t feel such guilt over needing to drop the half a person in weight I carry around. The boys are excited about their new older sister who can now buy them beer and get them into r- rated movies and the bonus, she doubles as an aunt too. Now my brother is married to my sister/daughter and his kids are my kids cousins/uncles and I’m my own grandpa. giggle snort Woo hoo Maybe there’s some rogue West Virginia blood in my veins.