Ho with Rosa

We have a big garden.  This we know to be truth.  And everything seemed all grand and glorious with said garden until I realized I had to weed it.

Oh, the humanity!

I think I am just going to have to ask David to get a few truckloads of bark so we can cover them up and pretend they are not really there.  Ignorance is bliss. I have picked weeds for a couple of hours everyday and I can't even tell.  I just finished reading a book written in the voice of a gal from the 1800's and I totally wanted to write that the weeds have me "purely addled."  Because when I read the book, I was certain "addled" meant angry. And addled just sounds like a word that would impress, wouldn't you agree?

Turns out it means "confused."

So, its a good thing I didn't write that the garden had me purely addled.  I would have looked like an addled idiot.

Before I forget, I must do the COW.

For it pleases us so.

Awhile ago, I informed all y'all that I intended to get a sign for my chicken coop and I asked for input on what the sign should say.

I was thinking not-so-creatively and coming up with things like:

"Chicks and Hens"

or

"Chickens"

You know.  To keep things simple.

Christi's suggestion was hilarious and deserves the COW:

"No Vacancies"

Ha!  I loveth it.  For those who may be unawares, my husband has some odd habit of driving all around the world acquiring chickens.

There's no more room!  I repeat!  There is NO MORE ROOM.

In other equally exciting news, there are fifteen baby chickens living on my kitchen table.  They were all supposed to be Rhode Island Red chicks, but three popped out black in color.  Oops!  Not sure what happened there.  Apparently, and this might shock you, we don't really know what we are doing.  You know.  With the rabbits, chickens, children, and life in general.

Having baby chicks live on your kitchen table is not for the faint of heart.  My house stinks and quite frankly, the novelty of the idea is wearing off.  One baby chick has a gimpy leg, but seems to be thriving otherwise.  I told
John ArabelDavid there would be no "taking care of it."  You never know what a farm and ranch husband might do, you know?

My mother's birthday was yesterday.  Mother?  Are you reading this?  Hello!  Happy birthday!  She called yesterday a little aggravated.

Me:  Happy Birthday!

Mom:  Thanks.  But somehow someone let Facebook know and Facebook has been sending my phone tons of messages all day long.

Me:  Well, when you created an account, you entered your birthday so that's how Facebook "knows."

This may have been tricky for her because I am pretty sure I set up her account.  But we need to only give her as much information as she can handle.  Or she might explode.

Mom:  Oh.  Ok.

The funniest part to me is that she tried to thank my cousin, we'll call him Gregory, for that is his factual name, but ended up making

"Thank you"

as her status update for the day.

Later on we were texting, because, you know, it is the year 2012 and texting is the wave of the future.  In case you didn't know.

We were discussing getting together on my mother's day off and I told her our plans and she said she would like to join.

But then she realized that I had not invited her, so she sent me a text that read something like:

But that's okay if you want to ho with someone rosa.

I believe she meant to say "go with someone else."  But what do I know?

So, I texted her back:

I was not going to ho with Rosa.  You can come.

And I thought it was so funny and it brought an ever-so-slight smile upon my face.  But she didn't respond and had to call me later on.

Mom:  Um, Taylor.  I got your text and, well, I didn't have my glasses on, but I don't understand who Rosa is.

Me:  Mom.  You wrote Rosa.  In your text.  Did you look back and read it?

I think THAT made her brain explode.  And then she, once again, had to blame it on her missing glasses.

Alright.  I'm off to weed that dreaded garden.  And tomorrow, my addled mother and I are going to ho with Rosa.

Later.

A Menagerie of Cleaning Supplies

I am going to try and be a more responsible blogger (for reals!  or realz-whichever you prefer) and post the COW more regularly.

Shall we take bets on how long this little phase of mine will last?  Hmmm?  Hmmm?

Does anyone even remember what COW stands for?  Probably not.

This week's COW goes to Lisa Buchanan with her comment on The Camping Summation:

Speaking of diarrhea on couches . . . I happen to be sitting next to some AS WE SPEAK. Only mine isn’t doggie diarrhea . . . it’s poor sick oldest boy diarrhea. And yes, he did it last evening and I, being the excellent house keeper that I am, LEFT IT THERE OVER NIGHT. Why? Because after my baseball tournament slash camping weekend, I. Am. Beat. and just wanted bed. So, your story hit real close to home for me. Like real close. I can smell it, in fact. I, however, will not have the luxury of two Holla-Girls-Holla to clean it for me. That will be me. And, my couch will be undressed all day being washed so we will have no place to sit and read Sonlight for school. No place. School closed is for the day.

Can we not all agree that Lisa deserves the COW simply for the fact that we must all feel very, very badly for her?  Yes?  No?  Yes?

Yes.  The answer is yes.

Let this be a lesson to all campers:  Always carry a menagerie of cleaning supplies in your trailer.

Thank you.

I will be back in a bit with a post.

A big, fat braid.

You would not believe how much food prep I should be doing instead of sitting in front of the computer.  Its slothful, that what it is.

We are camping, yes we are.  And I am in no mood to deal with all that needs to be done.  This is the first camping trip of the year with the Maliblahblah side of the family.  These camping trips can be a bit more, oh, what's the word . . . active?

I am already too tired to go.  Perhaps I will get sick within the next few hours and will have to stay in bed and read.  Which would be devastating.

The kids are SO excited.  I think Little Dude is going to explode.  Last night, he insisted on putting his blankets and pillows in the:

"Tramp Tray-wer!"

And that would be camp trailer, for all of you who don't speak "Little Dude."  I told him "no" and this resulted in:

The Complete Meltdown of 2012

Me:  Buddy.  You are sleeping at home tonight.

LD:  NO!  NO!  NO!

Me:  Yes, yes, yes.

LD:  MMMMOOOOOMMMMM!  I need them!  I NEED them!  NO!  NO!  NO!

Me:  But you aren't camping until TOMORROW, dude!

This news was just more than his little heart could bear and resulted in him laying prostrate on the ground, wailing for all the injustice his mother brings upon him.  And I almost wrote "prostate" and that would just change EVERYTHING, now wouldn't it?  It's a good thing I didn't.

In other exciting news, we are now incubating eggs.

Right on my kitchen counter.

I never intended to be this weird, honestly folks.  I mean who grows LIVE CHICKENS on their kitchen counter?

Me.

That's who.

Next up, its long denim jumpers and socks with Birkenstocks for me.  And as soon as I learn to braid my own hair (which will be never), I'll be donning a fat braid down my back.  Because this is just where my life is headed.

But the day you hear of me getting all handsome with my farm animals and hugging and kissing on them, then please, send help.

Let's do a COW!  Because what is life without consistency?

COW stands for Comment of the Week.  And I always remember to do it every week.

This week goes to Christi with her comment on the post Trashbag!

Lol, trashbag. Well at least he is a little fella. My mom does that. My pastor calls it chasing rabbits. My mom telling a story about a book. “There was this guy and girl and they had met at this store, (it wasnt a big store, just a small store, you know like one that I used to take you too when you were small, and oh remember that guy that worked there, he is dead now, oh you know who else died, our neighbors dog, poor guy he misses her, I miss my dog, you remember that dog, he was reddish, about the same color as your favorite dress, oh yeah you know the one you wore to church that one time, oh wait that was your cousin, anyway…)what was I talking about.

Oh my goodness.  I have someone in my life who does this, yes, yes I do.  But I won't say who.  No, no, I won't.

It is time.  I must face all that raw meat now.  It just gives me the pee-pee shivers.  Oh, and I have to cook bacon.  BACON!  I hate cooking bacon.

I hate meat, in general.

So, dear readers.  Tell me,

1)  Do you know how to cook bacon?  Because I sure don't.

2)  Would you like to come deal with the raw chicken and raw elk flesh for me today?  I can sit in bed and read?  Sounds fair.

3)  Have you ever grown live chickens on your kitchen counter?  Don't lie, now.

4)  Can you braid your own hair?  Will you teach me?

5)  What are your plans for the weekend?

Happy Weekend!

Big Cities and Restaurants

As I mentioned before, we went on a field trip yesterday to the TV station . . . where the children were expected to sit quietly during the taping of a LIVE news show.

You can imagine my panic, no?

When we arrived, we met up with the rest of the homeschoolers.  Apparently, the lady in charge had given the wrong directions and she was wondering if we had found our way ok.

I had to tell her that we took a completely different route on account of us now living in Ruralville.

Fun Fact:  Peoples from our area have heard of this Ruralville.  But no one knows anyone who actually resides there.

Yes.  Ruralville is that desirable.

Homeschooling Peeps:  You live there?!

Me:  Yes.   Yes we do.

Homeschooling Peeps:  Oh, wow!  Such a far drive!

Then the Homeschooling Peeps started talking directly to my girls.  And they were saying ridiculous things such as:

"Girls!  Are you excited to be in a CITY?"

"Have you ever seen so many buildings before?"

"You have such a long drive home!  I'll bet Mom here is going to take you to a RESTAURANT!  Isn't that exciting?"

I must admit.  It was a tad ridiculous.  And embarrassing.  And hilarious.

So, after everyone got over the fact that we were those people from Ruralville, we went on the tour of the TV station.

Handsome Dude decided that he was old enough to be a part of the gang and he joined in with all the older kids. 

And guess what . . . he did great!

The real challenge was getting all the kids to be quiet for the taping of the live show.  Handsome Dude was awesome and made not one peep.  Little Dude did great until I handed him his toy train.  He let out a:

"Toot-Toot!"

But don't worry.  I put the kibosh on that immediately and he was quiet for the rest of the time.

The girls got to pose for a photo op with the weather gal:

Are not my girls uber cute?  They got all dressed up "just in case" they were needed on live TV.

They were not.  But it is good to be prepared.

After the show, we were hungry.  And I did, in fact, take my children to a RESTAURANT called Wendy's.  We are not used to such high-class living.  It took me a moment to get over the fact that they did not serve elk.  Nor did they serve venison.

Fun Fact:  Venison is just a fancy word some people use to hide the fact that they are just eating DEER.

We decided that since we were in the big city and all, we should make a day of it.  So, we went to stores called Target and TJ Maxx and even found this really cool large store called the mall.  It had an elevator and everything.

It's amazing what city folk can think of.

Finally, we met up with Sir Lumberjack.  Sir Lumberjack gets to go to the big city everyday to electrify things.  I had found a discount movie theater and we were able to get all six of us in to see Tangled for $21!

Lumberjacks love Disney movies.

It was a fun day!

***

Earlier this week, our regular car was acting all temperamental and I had to take David's truck into town.

There is a really long story behind all of this and I am not going to tell you all of it for fear of boring you to death.  But here is the bottom line:

He left and came back with a rabbit hutch that he had bought for $40 and expected me to drive his truck home . . . all while it was towing this bad boy:

So, I was like:  Oh, no you didn't.

And he was like:  Oh, yes I did.

And did I drive that thing 45 miles to our desirable homestead?

No.  No, I surely did not.  I put my foot down.  I refused.

And I got my way.

Question:  Why did that not work when I told him that there would be no deer heads hanging on my wall?

Things to ponder.

***

And, finally, it is time for the COW.

The COW stands for the Comment of the Week.

This week goes to Mindee:

I think that you wearing an ugly wool sweater and two pairs of socks with slippers is pretty much what LJ deserves for moving you to a freezing house with peach walls in Ruralville.

Tell him that you’ll dig out the negligee if the walls are green and the house is warm.

Amen, Mindee.

Amen.

Alright!  Happy Weekend!

Lubbely Mudder

It's a frigid and cold afternoon here in Ruralville.

And here are today's top stories.

1)  Homeschooling.  Homeschooling shall be the death of me. 

Rather, homeschooling Daisy Mae shall be the death of me.

Proof:  Today when I asked her what month the 4th of July was in, she assured me it was April.  And when I informed her that was incorrect, she was certain it was in the month of "fall."

I am sure you all have confidence in my abilities to teach my children, yes?

No.

2)  It is really cold here.

Things that haven't changed:

Our thermostat is still going strong at 62.

Things that will hopefully change:

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

But, who are we kidding?

3)  I am hoping to plant a ginormous garden this year.  I anticipate it will be simple and easy and I will bask in the awesomeness of all my freshly grown produce and my husband shall praise me and I will can away like it ain't no thang and there won't be any weeds or deer problems and it will be awesome.

But, first, we must have spring.

And I am slightly concerned that by the time spring arriveth, I shall have lost all interest in the aforementioned garden.

And then my husband won't praise me.

4)  I am a little bummed that no one thought "Owl Be Darned" was clever and humorous.

But I will get over it.

5)  Many moons ago, I showed you this picture of the giant pile of brush that Sir Lumberjack created. 

And then I asked you to tell me what you think he did with said pile once he had completed it.

And you all guessed he burned it.

Ha!

Foolish readers, he did not, he did not.

200 meaningless points to anyone who can guess what he did.

Oooh!  The stakes are rising!  Oh, for the excitement!

Oh, does anyone care?

Probably not.

6)  We need to do a COW.

Erin was the COW this week.

Erin is uber hilarious and could, in fact, be a COW any day of the week.

Erin was nominated by another reader for her comment,

"Where can I get a manicure like that?"

And I was like, Erin is acting all looney again. 

Cause Erin is kind of nuts, you know. 

Anyways, after brief consideration, I believe she is referring to this photo:

And, Erin.  I am a little aghast that you would think those were my nails.  I do not paint my nails.  My hands are ugly and I prefer to not draw attention to them.

No.  Those are Daisy Mae's.  You know.  The child who celebrates the 4th of July in April?

The child who writes the number "34" like this: E4 . . .

The child who spells "did" like this:  bib . . .

The child who writes the number "10" like this: 01 . . .

The child who makes me feel confident in my ability to homeschool . . .

Yes.  It was Daisy Mae.

Alright.  Simmer down.  She's cute and I love her and she is the snuggliest and tells me every day that I am a "lubbely mudder" and she has uber cute dimples.

Happy Weekend!

Saturday Night Live

I am coming to you live from Ruralville where I am feigning to watch, and be interested in, my childrens' movie.

After reading your comments on  yesterday's post, I have come up with a whole post on just some of things you all said.

I hope you have your party pants on.

1.  This will probably not make you feel better, but I didn't answer the door when the Donna-seeker came.  Handsome Dude did.

2.  Yes.  I will start door-safety-training post haste.  Don't scold me.

3.  I am sure you will all be just as disappointed as I was, but the Craigslist 8-seater table sold before we got a chance to look at it.

4.  Boo, Craigslist.  Boo.

5.  I did take a bath.  In case you were dying to know. 

6.  I did not make pizza.  Not enough cheese.  We had tacos.  Sans elk.  Holla.

7.  When I do make pizza, I use Pioneer Woman's crust recipe.  You can find it here.

Now.

Don't you all go over to her site at once.  We wouldn't want to crash it now, would we?

That was a joke.  And a darn good one, I might add.

Please note:  I would never add all those toppings that she so carelessly throws on her pizza.  My husband would scorn me for the foolish woman that I was for serving a vegetable on a pizza.

And please also note:  My pizza crust doesn't quite look as good as hers does when I make it.  So, I probably don't make it right.

However, with the right amount of cheese, anything tastes good.

Can I get an amen?

8.  I am weird tonight.  Sorry.  It happens.

9.  I made Pioneer Woman's Spaghetti and Meatballs tonight.  I did, of course, substitute elk for the beef.  Cause I am lucky like that.

10.  When I make spaghetti now, I must make it the meatball form.  Why, you ask?  Well.  It is much easier to spot elk when it is in the ball format that when it is just ground up into the sauce.  The ball assists in my attempt to lead an elk-free life.

11.  I ate a lot tonight.  I fear I think garlic bread is my friend, when, in truth, it is not.

12.  The exercise DVD I did yesterday was Leslie Sansone's 4 mile walk.  I should probably do it 7 times tonight on account of the garlic bread.

13.  I made my lowfat brownie/cake recipe thing again tonight and I realized that in my original post, I gave the wrong amount of water.

Oops.

This just goes to show you that none of my recipes can be trusted.

If you are still foolish enough to try it, just follow the recipe on the back of the brownie mix box, but substitute unsweetened applesauce for oil and egg whites for egg.  Throw some light cool whip on top and call it good.

My apologies for originally stating you need 1 cup of water, when in fact, you needed only 1/4 cup.

I am sure it wouldn't really matter.

14.  A lot of you made me laugh yesterday.  And I had to pick two COWS.

COW 1 goes to Mindee:

You could rename Lucy Fur and next time the man asks for Donna, hand him the puppy and say, “Here she is, she’s all yours!”

Ha! 

COW 2 goes to Hoosier At Heart

Donna-Man is wee scary. Do not open the door. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Maybe I over embellished his crazy-ness and now everyone is worried.” Am I right? Yes I am. I don’t care. Do not answer the door. Right now, immediately, do two things. 1) write that man a note explaining the Donna situation to him and put it in your mailbox. 2) Hide snacks in Little Dudes windowless room. The next time he comes to the door, just yell through the door, “You’ve got a note in the mailbox!” Then hide yourself and your kids in Little Dudes windowless room and live on the snacks until the Lumberjack comes home. Or you could just shoot him. Now I’m not sure. Crap.

Even Sir Lumberjack laughed at that one.  And Hoosier gets 100 meaningless points for saying wee scary.  Cause that means she retains the pointless information I throw at her on a regular basis.

Holla, Hoosier at Heart!

Holla.

***

Today was another fun-filled Saturday out here in middle-of-nowhere-ville.

The Lumberjack got bored. 

This is never good.

Our property has tons and tons of brush and bushes that he hates.  So, he plans on clearing it all out.

Yes.  All 20 acres of it.

His plan is to trim them down with his chainsaw and then burn them.

I think we got 1/600th of the land cleared today.

And when I say "we", clearly I mean "we" because, yes, I was out there hauling branches to the burn piles like the helpful wife that I am.

And my arms now feel like Jell-O, on account of the massive muscle it takes to do anything with that man.

Alright.  That's all for now.

Happy Saturday

In the Year 2010

As 2010 is drawing to a close, I thought I would take a moment to look back at some of the events that occurred over the past year.

And so much has happened that I shall do this in not one, but four exciting installments!

Don't pretend you aren't ecstatic.

January.

1.  In January, I seemed extremely focused to get in shape.  I pretended like I was going to exercise daily for the rest of eternity and become the next Jillian Michaels.  I am happy to report that nonsense has completely left my system and I am still fluffy.

2.  I went to the dentist for the first time in six years.  And I was deemed gross and unclean.

3.  I potty-trained Handsome Dude.  It was the single most exhausting trial of my life.  I am happy to report that the boy is still  doing well with the toilet.  He does not, however, have good aim.  He also insists on wearing his underwear backwards daily, which could be the reason why he has so much stress in his life.

February

1.  In February, The Lumberjack and I decided to start looking for a house with land.  I loved my house downtown, especially since my husband had remodeled it exactly how I like it.  However, our growing family was getting too big for our cute house and  I could see that my husband had a huge desire to own his own land. 

Why?

I don't know. 

Maybe so he can stand proudly with his hands on his hips and look out at all the trees and vast amounts of dirt that he can call his own.  Or, maybe it has to do with the fact that he can cut down a tree or burn some branches and no one will care. 

Also:  he can hunt on his own land.

These are the things that make his world go round.

2.  Handsome Dude was really testing my patience.  Which is odd.  And unusual.  And still going on.

3.  My husband and I went to Cancun to celebrate our 10th anniversary!  Oh, if only I could beam myself there right now.  I loved that trip.  If you would like to read about it, here are the posts:  Airport, The Post Where We Were Nearly Scammed.  And Charged 75k., The time I had to get my hair wet . . .

The night we didn't dance, The time we got lost in Cancun, and then the last post that didn't really have a specific purpose.

March

1.  In March, we got a call that my grandmother was not feeling well, so we took a quick trip to see her.

2.  That trip was also the first time we met, Amy, our soon-to-be-new-sister-in-law.

3.  Also in March, my husband decided to give our baby a haircut.

The end result?

I am still bitter.

4.  Handsome Dude turned 3!

5.  Daisy Mae turned  6!

6.  On the same day Daisy Mae turned 6, my new niece was born.

And I may have become stricken with baby fever.

Spoiler Alert:  I did not have myself a fifth baby to satisfy my baby fever.

Alright.

That's enough of this rubbish for today and I shall bid you all adieu.

Is that how you spell adieu?

Is anyone reading this?

But wait!  We need to do the COW.

Last week's went to Erin.  Mostly because everyone in the comments section demanded she get the COW.  And because she is funny.  Even if it is at my expense.

Erin wrote:

I’m glad we’re only interfriends.

Since you’re going to stop showering and all.

Go give Erin a holla and tell her I don't smell and that I am a lovely InterPerson.

Happy Wednesday  . . . is today Wednesday?

I don't recall.

Happy Whatever it is!

The End is Near.

A Friday List.

1.  Oh.  My.  Gosh.  Becky.

(Name that song)

Well.  You are simply not going to believe this.  The girls have a slumber party at one set of grandparents house tonight and the boys have a sleepover at the other set.

Notice how neither grandparental set has taken on all 4 of them at once.  This is because they are exhausting and, clearly, I need a medal.

We did not even try to work all this sleep-over-ness out.  It just happened, as luck would have it.

Now.

The Lumberjack and I should take advantage of this once in a lifetime occurrence and go on a, dare I say it, "date." 

*However*

We are feeling poor.  You know, with Christmas and plane tickets and 400lb pigs and upcoming road trips and whatnot.

Our budget would allow us to stay home, turn off the heat and lights to save on electricity, and eat cold beans out of a can.

But we are probably going to throw caution to the wind and go to a movie.

We owe it to all the parents out there who have awaited a golden opportunity, such as this, to arise.

2. Today is my friend, Amanda's, THIRTIETH birthday.  I went to write on her Facebook wall and it ("it" being the wall . . . keep up, non-Facebook readers!) informed me that Amanda, in all her coolness, had upgraded to the *new* Facebook profile.

New Facebook profiles?  I am always behind the times.

I could not find her wall.  So I poked her!  ha!  What is poking?  I think it sounds naughty, but that is just cause I am immature and not yet THIRTY.  Amanda will probably roll her elderly eyes at my childlike humor.

Everyone please yell, "Happy Birthday, Amanda!" at your computer-ish devices.

*Thank you*

3.  On Monday, I resolved to exercise everyday for a month.  I have not exercised since Monday.  My discipline is impressive, is it not?

4.  My one goal yesterday was to finish the Christmas cards.  I have not finished them.  Again, I find myself questioning my discipline.

5.  The Lumberjack hung his buck antlers in our Christmas tree, dear friends!  It was something I had not anticipated in all my wicked planning to keep deer mounts off my walls.

Epic Fail:  I didn't take a picture.

Now you will all think I am a liar.

But, I double pinky swear it is true and the only reason I did not take a picture of it for you on this very morn is because it is off to compete in the local "Who done killed the biggest deer?" contest at the sportsman's store.

Godspeed, Lumberjack.

Godspeed.

6.  It is snowing.

7.  It is now time for the COW.  I am a little random with the COW these days.  I am feeling frisky today, and therefore, we shall have a COW this week.

(source)

This week's COW (comment of the week) goes to The Queen of the Brussels Sprouts:

A story to top your pee story…and make you feel a lot less nasty.

When Princess Hope was about 6 months old, she didn’t sleep…ever. When she pooped…it went EVERYWHERE! We lived in “almost Canada”, and it snowed a lot.
One day, even though it was snowing, and she had decided that day was “poop everywhere day”, we HAD to go to the grocery store, for the only thing left in the pantry was a jar of salsa.

So, of course, I bundle up a wiggly baby, bundle up a tired mommy, buckle said bundled wiggly baby into the car, buckle said mommy into the car, drive to the grocery store, unbuckle mommy, unbuckle baby, grab diaper bag, shuffle into store, find cart, put cart cover on cart, buckle baby, unbundle baby, unbundle mommy, proceed to shop….

Then, I looked down. Right there, smack dab in the middle of the front of my shirt was…you guessed it…poo. Breast fed babies have very runny poo. It also is sticky. I paused for a few seconds, looked down, looked at my list, looked at the baby, looked around me…and kept on shopping. At that very moment in time, I knew I had entered into the sacred sisterhood of mommy-hood. The place where you just don’t care if baby poo is on your shirt and you are grocery shopping. A few swipes with a baby wipe, and I preteneded all was well. There was no way in heck I was going to back track all the way home, buckling and bundling, unbuckling and un bundling…just to change my shirt because of a little poo.

there you go. NASTY! But, I am a mom, and nasty doesn’t seem to bother me anymore.

**

There.  A little birth control for you all.

8.  Lastly, I am feeling like life is spinning out of control and I am in a "my babies are not babies and my girls are practically in college and I am almost 30 and the end is near and my hair might be turning gray soon and just yesterday I got married so all this is crazy and how did I end up in Ruralville and when did I have four kids and I am homeschooling and my kids are growing up and I am not ready to be done with the baby stage but I am definitely ready to be done with the baby stage and why do they grow up so fast and when will they leave me alone and why can't they stay little forever" kind of stage.

Sometimes I think back on my childhood and remember all sorts of fun, magical memories of the holidays with my family and I wonder if I am doing the same for my children.

If you have a spare moment, could you leave an idea for a fun, family tradition you do during the holidays in the comments section?

It would be most appreciated.

And with that, Happy Friday!

I shall think of all you poor, pathetic parents stuck in parentland and diapers whilst I am kidless for an ENTIRE NIGHT.

Neener.  Neener.

A Man and a Pig

So.

My husband comes home.

Limping.

Me:  Hey.  What's new?

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . keep up, people!):  Nothing.

Me:  Why are you limping?

LJ:  I'm not.

Interruption:

Yes, he was limping,  readers.  I must get to the bottom of this.

Why, you may ask?

Well, this blatant lie and denial of injury reminds me of an incident that occurred a few years ago.  I found my husband, home alone, injured, and laying on the couch.  After much coaxing and nagging on my end, I discovered he had, in fact, impaled himself on a metal stake.

You can understand why I felt the need to uncover his reason for limping, no?

Back to the story at hand.

LJ:  Ok.  I got in a car accident.

Me:  What?!  Why didn't you call me?

LJ:  Because.  It was no big deal.

At this point, children come running from all locations wondering if "Daddy got in a car wreck and is Daddy dead?"

Brilliant, aren't they?

My husband decides to enlighten us.

He, along with a friend, drove off to buy a pig.  I told you about this latest idea of his, readers.  The idea to mix the pork meat with the deer meat in hopes of creating a super, new fantastic meat called "porkisen."

Do you get it?  It's like "pork" and "venison" combined!  I just made it up! Ha!

They take the friend's truck and trailer to go and get this pig. 

LJ:  Ok, Taylor.  You know how when you butcher a pig, it is normally like, 200 pounds?

Me:  No.  No one knows that.

LJ:  Well, this pig was 400 pounds.

Me:  Why did you buy a 400 pound pig?

LJ:  Just listen.  This pig is so heavy that it is pulling down the back of the trailer to make it fishtail.  Do you get it?

For the record, Lumberjill has no idea what "fishtailing" means.

Me:  Is the pig alive?

LJ:  Yes, Taylor.  We still have to butcher it.

Me:  What is wrong with you?  You are just driving down the road with a pig running around the back of a trailer?

LJ:  Well, the pig is not running.  It's just sitting there.  Anyways, the trailer fishtails and causes the truck to turn completely around and flip over on it's side.

Me:  What?!

LJ:  Yeah!  Ha!  Anyways, we weren't hurt so we climbed through a window and guess what?!

Me:  What?

LJ:  The pig was loose!

This is my life, readers. 

This.

Is.

My.

Life.

Attention Readers: Did you see a redneckish man running down a highway chasing his soon-to-be-butchered 400 pound pig recently?

Chances are, it was my husband.

Hands off, ladies.

He's all mine.

LJ:  But we couldn't get the pig back in the trailer until we flipped the truck and trailer back up.

Me:  You just lifted it back up!  How strong are you?

I mean I knew he had muscles.

He has invited me to the "gun show" from time to time.

But lifting trucks?  Those ain't guns.

Those are weapons of mass destruction.

(I will speak more of that photo in a bit.)

LJ:  Well it was kind of on a bank, so it wasn't that hard.  It was fine.  We got it.

Me:  And the pig?  Did you have to lasso it?

LJ:  We herded it in with some wood from the trailer.

Me:  Classy.

LJ:  But when I jumped over the trailer at one point, I fell and landed on my keys and hurt my thigh.  Which is why I am limping.

Me:  Do you need to go to the hospital?

LJ:  Heck, no!

Me:  Alright.  So where is the pig now?

LJ:  At the butcher.

Me:  Poor pig.

LJ:  Whatever, Taylor.

Dear readers.  I now know too much about this pig and his/her life to ever taste it.

***

In other news, I tried to leave early this morning for a haircut and my ginormous rig wouldn't start.

It was too cold.

Looks like I am going to have to start plugging the rig in again.

Made me 15 minutes late for my appointment.

Fickle beast.

***

About the photo:

David's sister took this picture of him when they were fishing.  He has always hated it because he feels the fish is nothing to brag about.  As a joke, his sister put it on the "brag wall" at the local sportman's store.

The Lumberjack, also known as David, went there in a huff and tore it down.

Daisy Mae begged for it. 

And then she made it into a Christmas ornament.

Holla, Daisy Mae!

Holla!

***

This week's COW (comment of the week) goes to Jill.

I totally sympathize with the picture-taking episode. And we have also had extensive discussions at our house that involved racks and spreads and then we measured and compared and discussed some more. (Just for clarification, my rack was neither measured, compared or discussed. Thank you.)

Jill!  What kind of racks are you talking about?!

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Happy Weekend!

Daydreams and Denim Jumpers

What a day for a daydream.

What a day for a daydreamin' boy.

And I'm lost in a daydream.

Dreamin' bout my bundle of joy.

(Name the music artist)

***

It's time for the COW (Comment of the Week)

This week's winner is my real-life friend MindyLou.

I’m sorry, maybe I’m mistaken, but I thought this blog belonged to to Taylor Mali-blah-blah, the city girl who likes coffee from the yummy little place downtown and jewelry from the awesome jewelry store just down the block from that. NOT the home-schooling-makes-her-own-soap-and-detergent-girl-without-internet. Ha! Just kidding. I still love you. But really, are you feeling okay? If the next time I see you you are wearing a denim jumper, I may hurt you. I draw the line there. Will miss you here in internet world. Please come back soon! PLEASE!!! I need you!! xoxo, Sweet Sugar Pants MindyLou

Don't worry, Mindy.  I am worried about myself, too.

***

Thank you for voting for me in the blogging contest!  I was around #200 when I first discovered I was nominated and now I am at #30!  Also, thank you to whoever nominated me.

If you haven't yet, and wouldn't mind, could you vote for me?

It would be uber fantastic.

Click Here.

(Once you find my blog, you click on "like this blogger")

Happy Weekend!