Uh, perhaps I don't really need the life jacket for that baby pool?

And then the Zadge was going to show you the brand new stone retaining wall (made of these beautiful green-gray stones from a local mountain) and charming picket fence that she had installed today to complete Old Vicky’s facelift.

The Zadge loves the look of the fence and the privacy it gives her, but she really built the fence so that her youngest felon couldn’t make a break for it, like he did the first week she had him when the Fin Fan Club was here.

“Oh, don’t worry,” her friends told her.  ”Now he’s totally bonded with you.  Plus he’s such a calm, mellow dog.”

Ah, yeah.

Could someone please sound the Prison Break alarm and notify the guards that BUGS-THE-FELON ESCAPED?!!!

Yep, tonight, just 40 minutes ago, as the Zadge returned from a walk with her seemingly obedient, calm felon, entered the front yard, shut the gate behind them, and unhooked the leash, a slight rustling noise could be heard in the thick hedge to the left of the Zadge’s house.

The side where the Zadge told the fence builder, ”No, we don’t need to run it along that hedge because there’s no way for him to get out through there.”

Ah, yeah.

In a second, Bugsy Malone darted through the hedge into her neighbor’s yard and then made like he was Usain Bolt down the block.  He was out of the Zadge’s eyesight before the neighbors could figure out who the tall blond banshee was, running down the street screaming “BUGS!!! NO!! BUGSS!  COME! STOP! COME! SIT!!! SIT!!! SIT!!!” at the top of her lungs.

The Zadge rounded the corner and found Bugs meeting up with a couple and their big black lab.  But as soon as Bugsy Malone caught sight of the Zadge, he took off again, this time crossing a somewhat busy street.  ”Shit!” the Zadge screamed, even though she had  given up swearing not two hours earlier.

She went after the little Bugger but decided to take a different approach, She slowly sauntered down the block, all nonchalant and what not.  Then she saw him.  He was stopped in the middle of the block looking up at her.  ”Hi Bugs, you want a TREEEET????” she said in her highest voice.  Bugsy Malone dashed over to her and she grabbed his collar.

Then she hung her head and said, “Baby Jesus of Bethlehem.”

And then she called her fence guy and told him to come back tomorrow and put in another section of fencing in front of the hedge.

Damn felons.  You just can’t trust ‘em.

Tulip was there too, but she was still stoned from her recent catmint trip, so she stayed upstairs and hallucinated about chasing mice.

The Zadge had promised Lizzie over the winter that she could plant her own little vegetable garden in the Zadge’s backyard once Spring arrived.  Here in Denver, they warn not to plant until Mother’s Day because of the chance of a late freeze.  So the Zadge thought Mother’s Day was a good day to start Lizzie’s Garden.  Plus, the Zadge figured it would distract little Lizzie from the fact that her own mom couldn’t be with her because she is in prison.  Sigh.

The Zadge and Lizzie hit the local nursery and had a blast tooling around the large selection of vegetables and flowers.  Lizzie insisted on pushing the cart.  Lizzie’s Mexican heritage showed, with her insisting on planting “spicy chilies.”  The Zadge even bought Lizzie her own little gardening gloves.  (She refused the SpongeBob ones, saying they were for babies.)

At one point in the nursery, a mother with her blond children were nearby when the children (about 6 and 8 years old), stopped dead in their tracks and just stared at Lizzie and the Zadge, watching their every move.  They literally couldn’t take their eyes off of her.  When the Zadge and Lizzie got back in the car to go home, Lizzie said, “Those kids were staring at me because my skin is dark.”  The Zadge replied, “I think they were staring at you because you are so beautiful.”

Back at Old Vicky, Lizzie attacked her garden with gusto, accompanied by her two  trusty assistants:

And yes, the Zadge will be getting sod and a sprinkler system installed this month in a last ditch effort to grow some damn grass in the backyard.

If you are curious what Lizzie and the Zadge planted — well, really the Zadge, because after 5 minutes of digging, Lizzie decided that playing on the hammock and with the dogs was more fun, which, of course, it is — check out the letter Lizzie wrote to her mom after the garden was planted:

It was a fabulous Mother’s Day for Moomskers’ “doter.”  But maybe next time, the Zadge should help Lizzie with spelling instead of gardening?

Yeah, she’s throwing down a little cowboy on Old Vicky’s ass:

If only she could throw down a big cowboy on herself.

And look who is calmly sitting by while his older brother hogs all the bones for himself:

So the Zadge will be enjoying her weekend with a cow, a pig and a sweet dog. Hope you enjoy yours!

1.  She’s got a date.  A DATE, people!  With a man!  Who she didn’t meet on the internet! A great friend in D.C. met a cute, funny doctor at her college reunion and he’s SINGLE and he lives in DENVER so she made the virtual introduction and the Zadge is going out with said cute doctor in two weeks.  Did the Zadge mention that cute doc is ELEVEN years younger than the Zadge but apparently loves older women?!!

2.  Harry went to doggie day care today.  (The zen-like Bugs doesn’t need to get his ya-yas out like Harry, so he stayed home and watched Lorenza as she cleaned and left bossy notes for the Zadge.)  The Zadge checked the doggie-cam at noon, when she knows they let the dogs swim in the pool, hoping not to see her dog drowning some poor sap.  What she saw instead was that all of the dogs were wearing LIFEJACKETS.  When the Zadge went to pick up Harry after work, she asked, “Um, I noticed the dogs are all wearing life jackets in the pool.  That’s not, uh, by any chance, related to Harry’s, shall we say, exuberance in the pool and the fact that he maybe, just once, might have knocked a dog unconscious, is it?”  The young employee smiled and said, not convincingly at all, “Oh no!  The owner just decided to do it because it is a national trend.  We all know Harry is a “dunker” so we won’t let him in the pool unless there is only one or two other dogs there.  We know he doesn’t mean to dunk the dogs.  He just gets so, well, excited.”

This is what a long day of dunking does to a dog.

1. Chocolate or Potato Chips?  Chips, all day long, especially Kettle Chips.
2. Fiction or Non-Fiction?  Fiction.  Except for Keith Richard’s memoir “Life”, which basically is a fictional life to the rest of us.
3. The Lord of the Rings or The Godfather movies?  Keep your hobbits close and your Dark Lords closer.  
4. Cameron Diaz or Jennifer Aniston?  Well, since Jen has flown the Zadge down to Cabo a gazillion times, she’s got to return the favor. 
5. 70′s or 80′s music?  You mean someone actually likes 80′s music?
6. Jon Stewart or Daniel Craig?  Close call.  But yeah, he left me for whats-her-name but he’ll be back by the time I hit the desert island. 
7. Friday Night Lights or Downton Abbey?  Kill me now if I have to choose.
8. Beer or Wine?  Where’s the vodka???
9. Pizza or Hamburgers? The Zadge had food poisoning in 1986 from a Wendy’s hamburger and hasn’t had one since.  She ain’t gonna start up on some damn island with no medical help.
10. The Rolling Stones or the Beatles?  THE STONES!!! KEEF! OMG, if the Zadge could be on a deserted island with Keef, she would give up all the rest, including Daniel Craig.  Yes, she would.

Of course, the obvious con is that the Zadge loses a garage in which to park her car.  But the reality is that the Zadge has only parked her car in the garage three times in two and a half years.  Because the current garage was really built in 1896 as a stable for Old Vicky’s original owner’s horses, who, mind you, are not as big as a 2006 Toyota 4Runner.  So the “garage” is all charming and whatnot, with it’s hayloft and original pulley on the loft window, but the reality is that it is TOO DAMN SMALL to park anything other than a Mini Cooper.

So the other big con is loss of resale value.  But here’s the thing:  almost everyone in Colorado drives an SUV or a bigger car.  If a subsequent buyer wanted to really use it as a proper garage, they’d probably have to rip it down and build a new one.  And the Zadge thinks the type of home buyer who really, really loves garages?  Lives in the suburbs.

So, on to the pros.

It would be a cool, light filled space for the Zadge to do photography projects and portrait sessions and then quit the Top Secret Day Job and become a full-time photographer.

She could write her second novel in it.  Once she finishes revising the first one.

It would make the backyard a great party space.

A potential buyer could view it as a future in-law suite or studio apartment to rent out.

It would look cool.

It would give the Zadge another project to work on now that the renovation of Old Vicky is 90% done (other than the second bathroom).

What do you think?

Here’s how it looks from the alley:

The idea would be to put windows into the boarded up opening to the hayloft and the little side window.

Here’s the view from the Zadge’s back deck:

The Zadge thinks she would replace that door with a pair of French doors.  (The old window is at the framer’s getting replaced with mirrors, but will be hanging up above the planter box soon.)  And she’d put in skylights on the sloping roof.

This is what the inside looks like:

She’d keep most of the exposed brick because it would be cool for photo shoots.  And maybe put down a floor of old whitewashed wood on top of the concrete.  Although she thinks she remembers reading someplace that you can’t put wood on top of concrete?

This is the original ladder up to the hayloft.  It.Is.Scary.To.Climb.Up.  But cool, so the Zadge thinks she’d keep it but add real stairs somewhere else.

The second floor looks like this:

The Zadge is thinking about cutting the floor in half, so that it is an exposed loft looking down on the first floor with a little railing, finish the ceiling with drywall but leave the vertical beams exposed.  Paint everything white but keep the beams natural.  Throw a bed or a big couch up there.

She guesses that she will have to replace the garage door, which is a cheap metal one now.  She was thinking of replacing it with something like this that swings open:

Photo Courtesy of HermanMiller.com

The Zadge is in love with this idea. She told Lizzie about it on Sunday and Lizzie got all excited and said, “Oh, you mean, like a clubhouse?!!”

Yes, exactly. A girl’s clubhouse. Whaddya think?

But here’s the problem.  The Zadge is biologically incapable of stillness.  And quiet.  And calm.  The Zadge’s DNA code contains a special whirling dervish link.  So the Zadge’s weekend did not entail a quiet, Lady Mary-like quality.

Instead, she hung a hammock, which required five – FIVE!!!- trips to her local hardware store.  When she went back into said hardware store today to get potting soil, and informed the staff that the hammock was indeed in place, they gave her a rousing cheer.

Knowing that it was installed by herself, the Zadge was a wee-bit leery to actually test it out, what with the large rock edging lying immediately below.  She gently lowered herself into the hammock and exhaled deeply, as she slowly swayed side to side under the warm, beautiful Colorado skies.

Until a frantic Bugs, who has clearly never seen a hammock, thrust both of his front paws onto the hammock, flipping the Zadge sideways onto the ground.

The Zadge also hit Home Depot and bought a blower.   No, not some slutty girl.  A leaf blower, the kind that the annoying neighbors of Meg at the Member’s Lounge use early in the morning.  She needed to blow away all the thousands of tiny leaves some ginormous tree in the Zadge’s backyard drops everywhere.  She also bought some big black ceramic pots on super sale.

Of course, then, she had to hit the local garden center to drop several George Washington’s on flowers to fill the new pots, as well as the existing ones she had:

Do you see all those tiny white leaves everywhere?  Yes, you do:

Do you see any green grass in the Zadge’s backyard?  No, you do not.  Two summers in a row she has had sod put in.  Two summers in a row it has turned as brown as the age spots on her face.  She is giving it one more go this summer – sod to be laid next week.  (If only the Zadge could say the same.)

The Zadge filled some pots with herbs – Ritts, Albert & the Tijuana Brass. Oh my god, she slays herself.  Actually, just the usual suspects in one – Rosemary, Oregano, Parsley, Thyme and Mint – but her favorite herb of all time, Mr. Basil, gets his own pot:

She hit the so-called “Antique Row” in Denver looking for a new dresser and some fun stuff for the garden.  She bemoaned the utter lack of any interesting antique or design shops in Denver, one of the only things she misses about D.C.  She briefly contemplated opening a furniture/design shop with cool vintage French and Belgian pieces, imagining herself jetting off to Europe on buying trips, and returning to her shop filled with bouquets of white peonies and tulips amongst the cool accessories and furniture and sweet, calm napping dogs.

Then she stopped smoking crack and decided to assemble and install her new pot rack.  The Zadge had called a handyman earlier in the week to do all the miscellaneous jobs around the house, like hanging the hammock and the pot rack, but the dude never called her back.   Late Saturday evening, fueled by some Ketel One and some really bad 70s music on XM/Sirius’s “The Bridge,” the Zadge decided to tackle the project herself.

Mind you, the reviews for said pot rack on Amazon cautioned about the difficult assembly and nstall. Especially in a 116-year old house with plaster and lath walls.

But those reviewers didn’t have Bread crooning “I want to make it with you.”
Voila!  Assembled and pots hanging.   Now a guy really can say to the Zadge “Nice rack” and be telling the truth.

Inspired by her mad carpentry skills and bad love songs, the Zadge then decided at roughly 11:30 p.m., to give Old Vicky a good spring cleaning.   She ruthlessly combed through the upstairs storage loft, placing half of what was in there next to the dumpster in the alley, including a dead power drill, a lamp, an air purifier, fabric remnants, boxes of crap, and more.  Becoming more and more “Sleeping with the Enemy” with each sip, she scrubbed cabinets and tossed anything extraneous.   She organized extension cords. She ran three loads of laundry.

And then she started in with the redecorating.  She moved books here and there.  Swapped photos and paintings and knick knacks.  She cleared off her fireplace mantel and then replaced it with three small white vases of charming green Irish Moss.  Pulled bowls and tea kettles out of there and put them over there.

She paused briefly to watch an old video of her true love Keef Richards strum the guitar.  Then she realized it was 1:30 in the morning and she was exhausted.

She slept.  Then she picked up Lizzie and took her and her little 7-year old friend JuJu to see the “Chimpanzee” movie.  The movie made the Zadge want to adopt a baby chimp until she remembered that horrible incident where that pet chimp ripped off a neighbor’s face and hands.  Then she decided that Harry wasn’t so bad after all.

And she watched “The Bridesmaids” again and decided, again, that Melissa McCarthy is the funniest woman on the planet.

Oh, and Lady Mary the Zadge did actually manage to read a book this weekend as well:

“The Sense of an Ending” won last year’s Man Booker Prize (the best English book of the year).  It’s more of a novella and is very well written and has a totally puzzling ending that the Zadge is still trying to wrap her head around.  She would love to talk to anyone else who has read it.  It is great book club material and the Zadge would recommend it to her book club but her book club had done away with the fiction (ha ha ha) of reading books and just gets together to  eat and drink now.

And this little Cuddle Bugs was by her side through the whole OCD madness:

Oh, and if the Zadge ever does date again, she thinks she just may channel some Bread and say to him, “I want to make it with you.”

How about you?

Here is dear sweet Poppee:

The Zadge doesn’t really know what her Poppee was talking about, but apparently the kids thought it was funny and started calling the Zadge’s dad “Charts.”

On a side note, how much would it suck to have your dad be the principal of your school?

Charts, although raised super-Catholic, had, like his oldest child, become a heathen as an adult and no longer practiced any formalized religion.  He would have abhorred a religious memorial.  So the Zadge, placed in charge of organizing the memorial, thought she would honor her dad by having it in a place that he would enjoy.

The roof deck of a fun Mexican restaurant!

We kept it small – just immediate family and close friends of the family.

That’s Charts’ only sibling in the middle, still as blond and beautiful as she was when she was the Homecoming Queen in college. Her five kids, the Zadge’s cousins, are all super cool, fun and smart and the Zadge wishes they all lived closer.

Here’s Cousin Jayne, who the Zadge hadn’t seen in probably 30 years. Cousin Jayne totally rocks a Mad Men vibe and the Zadge has such a girl crush on her that she may just well fly to Atlanta and move in with her for a few months:

The Zadge’s beloved nephews were there. Some loved the chips:

Some were more camera shy:

Can you say Tween and Teen?

The Zadge’s great buddies the Kaiser and the Gush were there:
And yes, the Zadge has some bags under her eyes. She was up until 4:00 a.m. the night before – FOUR A.M. PEOPLE!!! – and yes, alcohol was involved, so cut her some slack.

The Sista’s peeps showed up to show their support too:

As did the Sista’s fabulous husband and adorable mother-in-law:

The Zadge sat at the kids’ table, because frankly, that’s where she belongs:

The Gush brought his five-year old daughter and three-year old son. The Gush’s son, Theo, is only three months older than the Fin and they were fast friends. The kids found the diggers at the construction site next door to the restaurant more fun than the party:

Theo and the Fin then began a very competitive game of chasing each other around the restaurant at high speed, which ended with a big, manly hug:
The Kaiser looks worried that he is going to have to hug the Gush next.

Charts Fest was a big success.  The weather defied predictions and turned out sunny and breezy.  The restaurant provided a welcoming roof top with good food and drink.  Family and friends came together and reminisced and laughed and toasted Charts and his life.

I hope you enjoyed it, Dad!