Author Archives: mbajane

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,825 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,626 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane 

For this week’s Young Cultivator Stitching and Crafting/Toys Beginning Level Merit Badge, I decided to make it easy on myself and hand the reins over to my niece, Piper. In order to earn her very first Young Cultivator badge, Piper needed to interview an adult about the toys they played with when they were young.

Ahhh, nostalgia, thy name is toys …

Photo by Webms via Wikimedia Commons

Take it away, Piper!

*tap, tap, tap*

Piper: Testing, testing, 1 … 2 … 3?

Jane: Isn’t that a plastic karaoke machine, Pipes?

Piper: I’ll do the questioning, ma’am. First question: what was your favorite toy growing up as a youngster in the 1850s?

Jane: Yikes! I’m not that old. My favorite toy only recently, as I am very spry and youthful, was my dolly, Adelaide.

Piper: I see. And what was said Adelaide made of? Wood?

Jane: Wood?

Piper: Yes. It’s my understanding that toys that long ago were likely actual sticks.

Stick doll or penny doll. Photo by Wolfgang Moroder via Wikimedia Commons.

Jane: A stick toy?

Piper: No, a stick used as a toy.

Jane, feeling ornery and deciding to go with it: Yes, Adelaide was a lovely stick. She was cherry mahogany, you know.

Piper: I see. And did you play with your stick for hours at a time?

Jane: Oh, yes. I dressed her up and braided her hair, which of course, was made of moss. Once I misplaced poor Adelaide and had to go looking for her. After I walked to school uphill both ways in the snow, naturally.

Piper: Goodness. Did you find her?

Jane, shaking her head sadly: It was a tragedy. It turns out my father had gone to gather kindling that morning for our stove while I was writing chalk verses on my slate for school.

Piper, gasping: Oh, no! Poor Adelaide!

Jane, chuckling: Just kidding. Adelaide was a real doll, and a posh one, too. She had little leather boots and a bunch of different outfits.

Vintage Bradley brand dolls from Japan, Photo by KeiBi via Wikimedia Commons

Piper, looking relieved, and also disappointed: Oh. Yeah, I have one like that. I don’t really play with her, though. I mostly play my iPad and stuff.

Jane: Really? Have you ever told her your secrets? Or sent her on secret missions for you?

Piper, looking slightly interested: Nooo … that sounds kinda fun, though. What else did you do with your stick? I mean, with Adelaide?

Jane: Well, I also had an old tape recorder. Kind of like the one you’re using now to interview me, except mine was way cooler.

Piper: Hey!

Jane: Just keeping it real, kid. Anyway, I was always transcribing stories into it, or rehearsing play lines, or predicting the future. Sometimes, my friends and I would sing songs or tell ghost stories into it.

Piper: Neato! Do you still have the tapes?

Jane: I think I may have buried a couple.

Piper, frowning: What’d you do that for?

Jane: Like a time capsule. You’ve never done a time capsule? You mean to tell me iPads can’t do time capsules? Huh. Well, anyway, we buried a cigar box full of tapes and Polaroid pictures and nifty stuff. We buried it under that old oak tree out back.

Piper, looking mischievous: Really? Well, that’s enough interviewing for one day … thanks, Auntie Jane.

Jane: Anytime, pipsqueak. What are you doing the rest of the day?

Piper: Oh, you know, the usual. I thought I’d take the iPad out to the yard. Maybe sit under that nice, shady tree there.

Jane: Hmm. Is that so? Well, don’t forget your stick.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,825 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,626 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane 

Earning our Beginning Level Merit Badge for recycling and proper garbage disposal fired up my nephew, Andrew, so much that he was determined to earn his Cleaning Up/Trash Talk Intermediate Level Merit Badge posthaste.

He was garbage obsessed.

A stinkage fanatic. A debris addict. A litter king. A rubbish extremist. A trash junkie.

Ha! Get it? Trash junkie? Ah, I slay myself.

Anyway, after our newfound knowledge gathered from the local recycling center, the dump, and reading his handy-dandy pamphlet cover to cover, Andy was the man for the job. He recruited me as his Super-secret Garbage Spy Left-hand Sidekick Girl (his title), and we got to work infiltrating the family.

First off, he brought in his shiny, new recycling container that the friendly folks at the recycling center gave us, and plopped it dead center in the middle of the living room.

photo by epSos .de via Wikimedia Commons

(Mom quickly nixed that idea, so it moved to the kitchen.)

Andy was not satisfied though; he thought we could do better. So, using a small laundry hamper and an oversized Easter basket …

photo of The Longaberger Basket Factory by Barry Haynes via Wikimedia Commons

(not quite this big)

… he painstakingly made DIY labels for his Super-smart Recycling Center (his title), and soon enough, he had three stations:

• Paper
• Plastics
• Glass

We were going to make one for cans, but the family had recently give up their soda habit, so we decided against it. Yay, family! I shall reward them with some fresh-squeezed kale juice soon. Or maybe we won’t push them that far quite yet …

I did remind Andy we could make a compost container too, so once again we were off on an upcycling quest. We took an aluminum coffee can with a lid and decorated it with scraps of paper and magazine cutouts, collage style.

photo by BrandEvangelist via Wikimedia Commons

Note to self: giving small boys access to glue is an adventure in babysitting.

Andy labeled it Compost for Auntie Jane’s Eggs Chickens.

At least, I think that’s what he labeled it.

Is there a badge for legible handwriting he can work on soon? No? Phooey.

As for me, being his Super-secret Garbage Spy Left-hand Sidekick Girl, I was put to work spying and reporting back to him, the Super-secret Top Boss Recycling Hero Man (his title). We spent a whole afternoon hiding behind furniture, sneaking in the laundry room, and trying to fit in the kitchen cupboards.

Note to self: You aren’t as young (or flexible) as you used to be, Janey, my girl.

If we saw a family member nonchalantly toss a recyclable into the regular old trash, we were to report to one another immediately.

Then we were to tickle them until they begged for mercy and charge them a quarter (his plan).

OR:

We were to lovingly and calmly instruct and remind them of the new household rules (my plan).

We compromised and went with lovingly and calmly instructing and reminding them of our household rules and then charging them a quarter.

Or was it lovingly and calmly tickling them? Well, no matter. Let’s just say, the family got on board asap. And in no time at all, Andy had earned his badge and the family was upgraded to Super-hero Recycling Experts (my title).

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane 

For this week’s Beginner Level Stitching and Crafting/Dyeing for Color Merit Badge, I was already a bit of an expert. I mean, I don’t like to brag or anything (“Toot toot!” That may or may not be the sound of my own horn.), but I have been dyeing for a long time now.

I’ve been a brunette, a strawberry blonde, a platinum bombshell, and every shade in between. I’ve had highlights and lowlights, frosted tips, and bleached roots. I’ve had Clairol and Garnier and L’Oreal. I’ve done …

Wait. That’s not what we’re going for?

Well, color me embarrassed.

(Get it? Color me?)

photo by jerebu via Wikimedia Commons

But I could still use my hair color know-how and safety lessons learned in my newfound adventure of dyeing other things besides my tresses. For example: preparing your workstation (or head). Always put on an old shirt that you don’t mind getting stained, and wear gloves, chickadees. Once I went Nicole Kidman-inspired red, and my palms were stained for days. It looked like I had murdered someone. I was housebound for a week, and by the time I could leave, my beautiful locks had faded to Carebear pink. Sigh. Learn from me.

Another precaution before you start playing around experimenting responsibly with dyes, is to choose products that won’t trigger a headache or stomachache, if you are prone to those niggles when an overwhelming odor assaults you. Or, if you must use a chemical-laden dye, do it outside. No one will appreciate your shade of chartreuse on your hand-dyed bedspread if you are face down in it halfway through the procedure, gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

For my first venture into the unknown of Dyeing for Color, I chose tea.

That’s right … tea. It’s not just for breakfast anymore.

photo by Kayla Palmer via Flickr.com

I decided to dye a lovely, vintage lace tablecloth that had a roast chicken stain smackdab in the center. Up ’til now, I had simply plonked a vase of flowers right over the offending mark, but now I had a better plan. Color the whole thing Roast Chicken Drippings.

Side note: Crayola should probably hire me as a color namer. I’m really good at it. Some of the others I’m working on: Wet Seagull, Glistening Pepperoni, Vampire Skin, and Tuna Noodle Casserole Surprise.

Anyway, I was hesitant to use a good-quality tea for something that wouldn’t involve guzzling it, but then I remembered if you are cooking with wine, you should use a wine you’d like to drink. So, I figured the same rule applied here, right? So, I poured myself a glass of wine and got to work. Hee hee.

I brewed up a very large batch of Earl Grey, mixed with Oolong and just a sprinkling of Constant Comment. Your tablecloth may not be so particular, so go with your gut. Darker teas will, of course, dye your fabric a darker color, but don’t worry, even Turkish coffee won’t turn your fibers jet black.

I swirled my tablecloth around in the tea, making sure it was properly submerged and tucking it in gently. Then I left it for about 60 minutes. You can go longer or shorter; just keep checking on your fabric.

Rinse and wring out. If you don’t like the smell of tea, you can wash it out. Although, if you don’t like the smell of tea, well, there’s not a whole lot anyone can do for you.

Line dry, and enjoy your pretty new creation.

Now my tablecloth is less Roast Chicken Drippings, and more Recently Bathed Golden Retriever.

Seriously. Someone get Crayola on the line. I’m on fire.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane 

For this week’s Young Cultivator Stitching and Crafting/All Tied Up Beginner Level Merit Badge, I spent some time with Nora, my ever-lovin’ and ever-talkative neighbor girl. She’s the artistic type (I can tell this by the mood swings and the way she dresses … very eccentric), so I knew she’d be perfectly swell for this particular badge.

For Nora to earn her Beginner Level badge, all we had to do was whip up a smock.

“No, not a snack,” I patiently replied to Nora, who sighed dramatically. “A smock. Smock? You know, like an artist’s apron?”

Self portrait of the Venezuelan painter Arturo Michelena, public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Empty eyes stared back at me. Goodness, this child.

She said she’d probably think better if she had a slice of cake. That seemed logical, I had to admit.

After our cake break, we got down to business. First, we made a list of all the different ways we could fashion our own DIY smock and then we narrowed it down to what we actually had on hand, because if we put off actually making our smock any longer it would be dinner time.

Jane and Nora’s Smock-ipedia

• Adult sized T-shirt. To size it more kid-like: open up the seams at the side, cut strips and tie, or slit open the back, gather and tie.
• Use oilcloth for a waterproof, wipe-able smock. To upcycle this idea without purchasing new oilcloth, just use an old vinyl tablecloth.
• Men’s button-up shirts make great smocks: keep the collars and buttons, but cut off the sleeves and the whole back (use the sleeve material to make the apron ties).
• Terry-cloth towels and ribbons: use the ribbons as a tie for around the neck and another for tying around the waist. Use hand towels for toddlers, and bath towels for larger kiddos (or messy adults).
• Denim smocks: use an old pair of jeans. Cut off the legs and just use the tushy part with the back pockets. Attach a ribbon (or just use the leftover denim) at the top as a tie.
• For a one-day only smock, or if you need a whole bunch of smocks for one use only: use a large paper grocery sack. Cut out a hole in the bottom for the head, and two at the sides for arms (think homemade ghost costume from a sheet). Can also use trash bags if you are doing an especially water-y craft, like painting.
• Pillowcase smock: same directions as above.

And don’t forget: whichever idea you choose, everything is better with pockets. I mean, where else can they put their pet frog, or their rock collection, or the last slice of cake?

To make a pocket, simply fold the bottom hem of the smock over in a generous fold. Stitch at the sides. To make tiny pockets to hold individual paint brushes or crayons, make several straight stitches vertically throughout your large pocket with your sewing machine (if your Young Cultivator doesn’t know how to use a sewing machine yet, this is a perfect jumping off point).

Now, you’re ready for another cake break to decorate your smock and make it your own. You can:

• Paint with waterproof fabric pens or paints.
• Tie-dye it.
• Applique it.
• Sew on buttons.
• Bedazzle it!
• Add sequins or glitter with a glue gun (careful).
• Stamp on it.
• Write something fun with permanent markers.
• Trim with lace, ribbon, or rick-rack.
• Hot glue or sew on felt cutouts.
• Googly eyes are always fun.

Nora, being of the philosophy that more is more and a girl can never accessorize too much, chose … all of the above.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane 

For this week’s Each Other/Farmgirl Gratitude Expert Level Merit Badge, I expressed my very own Farmgirl Gratitude, open-letter style.

I wanted to hold up some large pieces of white paper with poetical and important words in permanent marker, or maybe pour some ice on my head or something, but I figured, hey, a good, old-fashioned letter is the way to go, Jo.

No drama here.

(Never said that before.)

An Open Letter to My Favorite Things
(Singing to the tune of These Are A Few of My Favorite Things optional. But encouraged.)

Moonbeams on gardens, and ice cream with peaches,

Sweet tea with cookies, and good books in niches,

Upcycled shopping bags filled with what life brings,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Tractors as rust art, upcycled porch swing,

Organic and homemade and garden-grown everything,

Fresh air while hiking and glamping while camping,

These are a few of my favorite samplings.

When the health’s good,

When the air’s clean,

When I’m planting trees …

I simply remember my favorite things …

And then my farm life’s a breeze!

Okay, maybe I haven’t earned my Expert Level Merit Badge in Poetical Poetry, but hey, I got ya singing, didn’t I? And don’t even pretend you weren’t channeling Maria and spinning in a circle, be honest. von Trapp it up.

Now pass me my sweet tea (local honey, of course; it’s the bee’s knees), put up your feet on my upcycled porch swing, and pen your own open letter of gratitude. Your heart will thank me.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! ~MaryJane

For this week’s Young Cultivator Make it Easy/Music Intermediate Level Merit Badge, Piper and I picked up right where we had left off with the Beginner Level badge.

Right between the knowledge that neither of us had any rhythm to speak of, and the knowledge that we were both kinda dismal at … how should I put it? … Music Appreciation Arts.

Let’s just say, you don’t want us in your philharmonic.

photo, Bundesarchiv Bild via Wikimedia Commons

But hey, what we lack in musical ability, we more than make up for in passion and heart.

So, anyway, to earn our Intermediate Level badges (I mean, badge. It’s really just Piper. I mean, I’m a fully grown adult. Kind of.), we brought in Nora. Nora had earned her Beginner Level badge earlier, so we were a mighty trio. Since this whole shebang was going to culminate in a performance for their parents, we thought hey, the more the merrier. (Also, we were hoping Nora had some skills we could desperately cling to learn from.)

We had to make our own instruments, so here’s what we did in case you too, want to form your own band:

Homemade Tambourines

• Embroidery hoops in any size, but large is best
• Ribbon
• Jingle bells

Wrap the ribbon all the way around the hoops so they are completely covered (you could also use strips of fabric, or skip this part altogether if your hoop is already colorful). Tie jingle bells to more strips of ribbon or fabric and tie tightly around the hoops about an inch or so apart. You can use as many bells as you like. Do like Taylor Swift instructs, and SHAKE IT OFF.

Homemade Maracas

• Plastic Easter eggs
• Spoons
• Dried beans
• Ribbon

Place beans inside your Easter egg and close. Cradle egg between two spoons and wrap the handles together with ribbon (or patterned duct tape). Start a mariachi band!

The Estey orchestra club, Trautmann, Bailey & Blapey / Estey Organ Works via Wikimedia Commons

Rainmaker

• A large tube of strong heavy cardboard (the larger and stronger, the better)
• Small nails
• A few dried beans
• Construction paper or scrapbook paper
• Glitter, stickers, markers, glue, and other craft supplies for decorating

Start by hammering in all the nails into your tube. The more nails you use, the better sound your rainmaker will have, so go nuts. You want them around the whole tube, not just in one straight line, but they don’t have to be in perfect intervals. Cover your tube with the construction paper or scrapbook paper, gluing it on securely. Decorate. Seal one side with a few layers of heavy paper, cardboard, or a layer of duct tape (or if your tube came with plastic lids, even better). Drop in some beans, rocks, or beads, and seal up the top. Enjoy the sound of rain on even the hottest summer day!

Homemade Pan Flute

• An assortment of plastic drinking straws
• Tape

Cut your straws in different lengths and line them up accordingly. Tape your line together. Use about eight or so. Each straw will have a slightly different tone than the one next to it. Have fun being a Pied Piper.

P.S. Piper really likes this one. Go figure.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! MaryJane 

For this week’s Stitching and Crafting/Nellie Make-Do Intermediate Level Merit Badge, I settled in for a long winter’s nap a little recycling and crafting.

Getting’ down with my crafty self.

In order to earn my Intermediate Level merit badge I had to devote at least 50 hours to making fiber projects without purchasing a darn thing (sewing machine parts and/or thread excluded). This worked out well since I’m broke as a joke due to the holidays.

And due to my extreme fondness for snacking. Snacks don’t grow on trees, yanno?

I still needed a few gifts for birthdays, so this badge would be perfect for killing two birds with one … bush … in the hand. Or however that goes. Expressions are not my thing. Snacking is my thing.

I took out two sweaters I had been given eons ago by my Gramma Barbie, who—let’s face it—has had at times questionable fashion sense. They were high in quality and color and low in fit and appearance, to say the least. With a Downton Abbey marathon just starting up, I began unraveling.

photo by Bas Sijpkes via Wikimedia Commons

That’s right. I was unraveling sweaters to make balls of yarn to make new knitted creations.

photo by xlibber via Wikimedia Commons

How many pot holders would a sweater make? We were about to find out.

Hang on a second. Lady Mary and Matthew are needing my full attention. Such shenanigans …

Soon, I was sitting in a pile of chartreuse yarn. I felt like Miss Muffet on a tuffet (what’s a tuffet, anyway?) and I had nearly knitted myself into a fiber cage of my own making. I paused the television during poor Sybil’s childbirth, and spent some dedicated time to rolling neat and tidy balls.

Or, at least I tried to.

Note to self: Arrange for kitty-cat daycare when attempting to start large knitting projects. They were unraveling and chasing my yarn faster than I could spin one. It was like shoveling snow during a blizzard, or eating Oreos after brushing your teeth. Sigh.

Now, never let it be said you must follow in my size 5, kitten-heel footprints. You don’t have to be a knitter or a ruthless sweater killer to earn your own Nellie Make-Do badge, no. You can make quilts from other scraps, if that floats your boat better. Also, if you have cats, I might recommend quilting, although they will likely think you are laying out various bedding options for them, so … you can’t win. But I chose the knitting from sweaters option because of this charming book:

It follows an adorable couple who live in a shack and eat nothing but turnips (that’s probably another badge). The wife unravels the husband’s sweater, bit by bit, row by row, in order to knit some socks to trade for milk and cheese (backyard cow, anyone?). Then the owners of the cow unravel the socks, one at a time, to make a sweater for the farmer. And the twist at the end? Well, it’s witty and sweet and will make you want your own bucket of milk, a small cheese, a backyard cow, a turnip garden, and a wholesome and satisfying knitting project.

There you have it! Nellie Make-Do. Now, if I can just figure out who Nellie is. And does she sit on a tuffet, do you think?

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! MaryJane 

For this week’s Merit Badge, I decided to tackle one with my nephew, Andrew. Being a boy, he’s pretty good at tackling, so we channeled all that noisy, dirty energy into something worthwhile: his Cleaning Up/Trash Talk Beginning Level Merit Badge. Little did I know what I was getting myself into …

Beginning our project took some time, for starters. Mostly because I had to give myself a pep talk and channel all my tea-sipping, porch-sitting energy into something more … more high energy. Andrew is a feisty guy, a real go-getter, a pistol, as my Gramma Barbie would say (right after she made him take a nap, probably). But I just knew if we could focus all that squirmy liveliness into a project, it would be a beautiful thing. And also, his mom would owe me a favor. (She makes killer pecan brownies. I prefer to call in my favors when my sweet tooth strikes.)

“Ok, Andy,” I began, in my best no-nonsense, teacher-type voice. “Today, we’re going to play with garbage!”

photo by CGP Grey via Wikimedia Commons

This was music to the little pig-pen’s ears. It was as if I had suggested we bounce on rainbows, ride a unicorn, or play video games until we burst into a firework display of Skittles. He was happy as a clam as we rode out to a couple of local places to learn about our city’s garbage. First up, the dump.

Or, as Andy liked to dreamily refer to it, Boy Heaven.

photo by Ropable via Wikimedia Commons

We spoke with the man in charge (whose job I believe Andy was already taking over in his curly little head), and asked him about recycling and what happens when people don’t bother. He was happy to talk with us, and Andy took notes in his superhero notebook like an intrepid little reporter.

Then we went to the recycling center where nothing goes to die, it just gets reborn. (That’s a good line, if I do say so myself. Write that down, Andy.)

photo by Bazoka via Wikimedia Commons

The recycling center was less stinky, and therefore, less romantical and wonderful for Andy, but he still had a pretty good time. Out came the superhero notebook again, and this time, he really fired some hard-nose questions at the workers.

Things like:

Have you found any treasures?

Can I have this?

What’s your name?

Why is your eye twitching?

Why do you have such a big tummy?

Where’s the potty?

It’s okay. I don’t have to go anymore.

Can I play on the equipment?

Stuff like that.

On the way out, we picked up his very own recycling container for his household and he was pleased as punch to be in charge of bossing around his family lovingly instructing his family on how to use it. He stapled the guideline pamphlet (with recycling dos and don’ts) to his notebook and decorated the rest of the pages with all the free stickers he got at the front counter. Then he tried to pocket the stapler, but I was onto the little guy.

Next up, dropping off Andy and getting me home to take a nap. He wore his recycling container on his head as he raced up his driveway and skidded to a halt next to a discarded soda can lying on the sidewalk. He promptly picked it up, disposed of it properly, and gave me a salute.

Right back atcha, dude.

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,760 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,508 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! MJ 

For this week’s Each Other/Civic Heritage Expert Level Merit Badge, I was super-thrilled to try out my acting chops. You see, in order to earn my next badge, I had to participate in a local reenactment. It just so happens, chickadees, that my local downtown does a Wild West bank robbery reenactment for the tourists every year.

Annie Oakley via Wikimedia Commons

Boy howdy, this was gonna be good. I was ready for this—I was born for this. I had spent all my years perfecting drama and all the skills therein; never would the part of Third Tree to the Left be played with such convincing heart!

I jest, of course. A gal like me—born for the stage—was awarded the part of Millie-Ann, a very prominent and important tavern owner.

And by awarded I mean chosen. And by chosen I mean they let me sign up for whatever part I wanted.

But still, Millie-Ann was meant for me. She spoke to me: her flaxen curls, her bossy demeanor, her way with the gentlemen, her flair for pouring a good sarsaparilla … it was Me to a T.

Being a thespian of such high quality, I naturally am what they call a Method Actor. This means I was fully immersed in the character of Millie-Ann for a full week before we began shooting. Er, I mean, performing. Well, there would be shooting; it was a bank robbery, after all. But I’ve gotten off track.

I peppered my speech with lots of “y’alls,” and other such Wild West slang. I piled my hair high in a bouffant style that Miss Kitty would have envied, I tossed back root beer with reckless abandon, I sauntered and walked bow-legged, and I rode attempted to ride my neighbor’s filly to the watering hole. In short, I became Millie-Ann.

The day of the reenactment arrived and I was so nervous. In fact, I was so nervous, I kind of misplaced my script, and when the first bank robber arrived, peeling through downtown on a black stallion, my knees gave way and I nearly fainted. Millie-Ann would not be such a pansy, though, so I snapped out of it—pronto! Having no idea what the script called for (and assuming scripts were nearly as unimportant as owner’s manuals or directions—totally unnecessary and strictly for amateurs), I improvised. I tossed my sarsaparilla in his face, shrieked like a banshee, smacked the stallion on the rump (and nearly got nipped in the process—bad pony), and used my index finger like a proper Wild West shotgun. Bang, bang!

A True Girl of the West, George Bancroft Cornish via Wikimedia Commons

The other actors were not as skilled and proficient as I was in the whole improvising realm, though, so things got a little weird for a while. The audience seemed to enjoy my portrayal greatly though, and that was the important thing.

In case you, too, want to enjoy participating in a Wild West reenactment, here are a few slang terms you really must learn:

Angelica: a young, unmarried woman

Amputate your timber: go away!

Jimmying a bull: shooting an officer

Kansas sheep dip: whiskey

Luddy-Mussy!: Lord have mercy!

Dough wrangler: the camp cook

See the elephant: going to town

Settle one’s hash: to properly punish

Seven by nine: someone of inferior quality (comes from the most common window-pane sizing)

Sparking: courting

Well, that’s enough skittles (nonsense) for now. I gotta join these small fries (kiddos) for some slapjacks (pancakes) with a side of taters and skunk eggs (onions) made in a spider (three-legged, cast-iron skillet), all in apple-pie order (tip-top shape)!

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 6,724 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—9,486 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! MJ 

For this week’s Young Cultivator Each Other/Thank You! Beginner Level Merit Badge, I enlisted my handy-dandy, go-to, MBA newbies, Piper and Andy. No, it wasn’t just that they were the only two whippersnappers in my circle; it was actually their mother’s idea.

You see, she had noticed a bit of … well, negligent and perhaps slipshod behavior in her sweet little angels as of late.

Okay, I candy-coated it. What she really said was,

These gremlins who live with me and call me Mom have become entitled, selfish Twerpensteins with ATTITUDES. Suggestions?

Suggestions? Boy howdy, was I the farmgirl for the job!

You see, I too, have struggled with being negligent and slipshod an entitled, selfish Twerpenstein, and have recuperated nicely.

Hello, my name is MBA Jane and I am a recovering gremlin-with-an-attitude.

Hello, Jane!

I knew the root of the problem with the rugrats lay in their lackadaisical, cotton-pickin’ hearts. They needed a job, a purpose, a sense of thankfulness.

And maybe a cookie.

photo by Jason Lam via Wikimedia Commons

(Because everything—including jobs, purposes, and merit badges—go better with cookies).

In order to earn their Beginner Level badge, they simply needed to start a Gratitude Journal.

Easy peasy, lemon squeasy, righto? I mean, come on. Who doesn’t like to journal things in cute, little, cloth-bound booklets?

Evidently, Piper and Andy, that’s who.

You’d think I was pulling their teeth or forcing them to drink kale juice. The sounds of whining coming from my kitchen table practically made my ears bleed, I kid you not.

“But Auntie!” they cried, in unison, “It’s SUMMER! School is over! We refuse to learn anything! Bloody murder! I won’t do it! The pencil hurts my fingers! The paper smells weird! I need more cookies! This will give me Black Lung! You’ll be sorry when we’re dead!”

Yadda yadda yadda, etc. etc. etc., blah blah blah.

Trust me: I’ve toughened up since becoming an auntie. It’s not a job for the faint of heart. You need a will of iron, a spine of steel, a big heart, and a whole lotta chocolate chips.

After they realized I was not going to back down on this (and that their mother wasn’t going to let them come home until their attitudes changed), they cracked open their journals and buckled down. Well, sorta. Andy banged his head on the table a few more times for good measure, but after it made his eyes cross and I didn’t soften (but did hand him some ice), he sighed and got to work.

They were kind enough to let me read their lists:

• Cookies
• Summer vacation (or lack thereof, Auntie)
• Wifi
• Puppies and kittens
• Breakfast, lunch, and dinner
• Snacks
• Mom and Dad
• Friends
• Slumber parties
• Toenail polish
• Outdoor barbeques with the neighbors
• Horseback rides
• Shopping
• Holidays
• Tree climbing
• Blanket forts
• Movie nights
• Andy (don’t tell him I said that)
• Piper (don’t tell her I said that)
• Swimming
• Pets
• Pizza nights with the family
• Vacations
• Staycations
• Back to school outfits and supplies
• Lemonade stands

I thought it was a lovely list.

P.S. I may have forgotten to mention they have to write in these journals for two weeks to earn their badges.

photo by Danni Suplicki via Flickr.com

Ahem. Pray for me.

And send chocolate chips.