Tales From the Waiting Room (and other stories)

Will the Real Susan E. Please Take a Nap?

Before we get around to that, though, let me address some of the comments that some of my precious & few readers left for me:

Jen (Knitters, Knitters), Brett has been duly notified and educated about what a "porn-stasch" is. 

Yes, Pam (dear sister), I drooled all over Brett, literally--and now the world shall know why. We drove to his college campus at the end of the summer (1978), so he could start moving in (just a 2-hour drive, as my parents were still being old-fashioned and wouldn't allow me to go on a sleep-over with my boyfriend).  Unfortunately the night before I waitressed the evening shift, which lasts until 2 a.m., (typically when the male customers are such cut-ups for hitting on the female wait staff and leaving hilarious 2-cent tips), so I fell asleep on the drive down. I slumped over and landed on Brett's shoulder. He decided not to disturb my peaceful slumber, being the nice guy he is. I woke up and mopped up his saliva-soaked arm, sleepily apologizing that I didn't know I had that much spit. That seemed to amuse him.  

 I know "engaged" isn't a verb, but I panicked in the moment and wanted to sound intelligent. Brett's strong suit is math so he didn't catch it. Thanks, Cousin Luke the Grammar Nazi, (posting as "Fred"), for pointing it out though. I know it would have been impossible for you to read it and not comment, so I shall comfort you by patting your hand and saying "Their, they're, there."

..........

A couple of years ago, I obtained a gmail address. Yes, it was time to stop paying $28 per month to our internet service provider that we hadn't used for over a year (we moved) just to have their domain name on my email address. It was more of a procastination issue, really, with the added bonus of not ever having to explain again that it was "earthlink" and not "earthling."  I probably would have kept it if it really *was* earthling.  It would imply an intriguing intergalactic choice. 

However, my name was already taken. I'd be willing to make book that my maiden name would have still been available.  While it's common knowledge that I married for love, despite what those who whipped out their abacus's thought when our first-born arrived 10.5 months after the wedding, I also figured that at least my last name would never again be misspelled. 

That was a horrible error in judgement on my part. 

Nonetheless, as I signed up for gmail, I couldn't just have my name since it was already taken. Google gave me several suggestions. I wanted it to remain as simple as possible so added the number 1. Taken. Kept going up the number scale. Taken, taken, taken. Finally determined that the number 14 after my name was available. Whee! Hey, that's also how many rogues progeny we have. Serendipity, thy number is 14.

As we age, we tend to have less room in our brains for the minutae of life, such as algebra and remembering your mother's maiden name so you can access your bank account. Sure enough, I'd forget from time to time that my new email address had a number after my name, so would occasionally sign up for web accounts with just my gmail address with no number. Turns out the lady  with that email address actually existed, and for some reason didn't want to pay for my gourmet coffee. WhatEVER! So the company called me and I explained the error, then emailed Susan the First to apologize, and all was put right. She was quite nice and understanding.

Turns out other people have the same problem remembering that my email address has a number on it, and I'll get the occasional forwarding from Susan the First, saying "I think this was meant for you." And she was always right. Thankfully they were mostly emails from machine embroidery and gourmet coffee sites, and thankfully not from all those former lovers I've taken. 

A few months ago, she forwarded an email she figured was for me. It was from a dentist's office several states away, reminding Susan Easley of her upcoming appointment and complimenting me on my wise choice in in dentists. 

I thanked Susan the First for thinking of me and not wanting me to miss out on my dental appointment, and explained that the message was not for me either, but no doubt for one of the Susans 1-13.  I suggested that I call the dentist's office, schedule the appointment, then split the insurance payment while giving my address as to where the check would be sent. She said she liked how I thought. I suspect this is not the end of our erstwhile relationship and it's only a matter of time until I get another forward from her, updating me on something I should already have known. 

**********

We had guests recently, missionaries who serve in Bolivia. I mention this only because it was during their visit that I discovered Ceiling Cat. Several weeks ago, for Easter, I'd printed out several sheets of DIY Ceiling Cat and gave them to the children. Over the following weeks, I'd found the sheets in various places, usually crumpled up or colored on, and threw them out one by one. Imagine my shock when I was in our dining room, chatting with the mom of the family when something on the ceiling caught my eye. 

 

After my initial gasp and subsequent chest pains, I remembered I'd printed out Ceiling Cat. Thank you Judson, who continues to find amusing ways to shock his aging mother. After regaining the gift of speech, I asked Judson how he was able to keep it a secret for so long. He said that it didn't matter how long it took, it was worth it to see my initial reaction. 

I made this the other day. It's on the floor baseboard directly under Ceiling Cat. We'll see how long it takes Judson to notice.

Therapeutic horseback riding lessons have started up again. We've enjoyed ourselves and the children who participate have learned quite a lot. Each lesson for each child is tailored to their special need, and the volunteers and workers are quite amazing. Gideon, diagnosed with autism two months before he turned 3 years old (because he hadn't spoken a single word, not even "mama"), has now spoken consistently to his side-walker for the first time. Justen is so good with him and I've never seen anyone who can make Gideon laugh like he does. Justen imitates what Gideon does and makes him feel as if no one has ever understood him before.  Perhaps that's true. Here, Justen imitates Gideon's "noodle body" and tells him to straighten up and ride proud.  

And here he is, trotting properly on Dakota, minutes later. 

Good work, Gideon! Justen is ever-encouraging. A good match, to be sure. 

Isaiah helps break in Chance. They worked well together, and Isaiah's vision issues seemed not to matter to such a wonderful horse and instructor. Thank you, Elizabeth & Mary Jill!

He does quite well with his sidewalker and his horse, Boomer. 

By this week's lesson, he was allowed to trot off-lead. Great job!

Mercy Grace foot-reins her horse, Hope, and all is well. How could it not be, with the names Mercy Grace & Hope? She's graduated to riding on her own, and does well with all the commands to Hope. 

Susannah practices turning, and was able to ride off-lead during several trotting sessions--a huge improvement over last fall. Here, she's practicing turning on T.C. (Too Cool).

 

Abigail is off-lead more than anyone else. Hard to get a good picture of her, she likes speed. 

The rest of our summer has gone rather swimmingly so far, too.

  Have a great pre-weekend, everyone! Good wishes to all. 

 

Our Chickens Have come Home to Roost

And apparently that is all they're doing.

When one thinks of chickens, the word "industrious" doesn't automatically spring to the front lobe of the brain. But is it too much to ask that when we faithfully pour chicken feed into their feeding bin and make sure they have plenty of water, and most of them are females--that we get some eggs in return? Have I mentioned the heat lamps and light timers so that they think it's still summer? Since there are no chicken labor laws (yet) limiting their production, this has always worked in the past. 

So the other day I actually had to bu..purcha... Words cannot describe my pain as only a picture can.

 

Soon our newer chicks should be old enough to start laying, so we shall not be put in this position again. Only then will shame be erased and self-worth restored.

Nate, who is in charge of the chickens, got in an unspecified accident while doing chores the other day. After making a couple of inquiries, I suddenly remembered that trying to obtain accurate stories about injuries from boys who were horsing around makes me reach for the Advil. So instead, I decided to photo-document it as any self-respecting blogger would. Since this fortuitously happened on a Thursday morning, which is when Abigail's physical therapist comes to the house (she's also an RN), I figured we'd butterfly it and ask her opinion. 

Plus one's doggie to comfort one in time of distress doesn't hurt. Our nurse friend Jeanne pronounced the butterfly bandage well-done, and no stitches necessary. Then Nate and I discussed what was really important: What story to tell girls in the future when they asked about the scar. My suggestions ranged from shark attack to tiger brawl. Nate said "What if I just explain that I was horsing around with my brothers and got a piece of metal to the face?"

Apparently, my son never wants to date. 

But back to the weather. I got this update yesterday because I subscribed to text updates from the local station. That's right, I'm a happenin' 21st century mom. 

"Persons traveling early this morning should be prepared for icy road conditions. Black ice is nearly impossible to see. Avoid sudden turns and hard braking, and maintain a safe distance between other vehicles. In case of an accident, pull far off the roadway if possible and remain in your vehicle."

Some people never listen. 

We found this guy when we were on our way home, nearly to our driveway. By that time, the guy's buddy had been summoned and was waiting at the bottom of our drive to take him home. Mind you, when I drive the 15-passenger Eggplant, I need a certain amount of traction to make it up our icy driveway when coming in from the highway. But the buddy was parked at the end of our drive. When I slowed and motioned that I had to get in, he kept making waving motions and shouting "We're okay! He just has to get some medication for his children out of the truck."  I said "I live here, and need to get in my driveway." He finally said sorry and backed up, but by then I had a line of motorists behind me that were Not Happy at being stopped on a highway. It was a process, but I finally got backed up enough to get the traction needed to get up our award-winning driveway. 

As I later relegated the tale to our children, 15-year-old Josh said "Hah! Yeah right, had to get 'medication for his children' out before the authorities arrived." 

I hadn't thought about it like that. He's probably right, it might have indeed been -medication-, but probably not something he'd want anyone else to get dibs on. 

But enough about family problems and weather-related incidences. What really matters is that, apparently, the show Two and a Half Men has been canceled. As many times as I could say that I'd seen it coming due to the mildly-put substance abuse by the show's main character, I had hoped that those involved would continue to work around him. Apparently, this came to its inevitable end. A friend of mine--Olive's Pearls (who remains humble despite being a part of BlogHer)-- and I have been on death watch for Charlie Sheen for a few weeks now. Here was our exchange today:

Jen: "That horrific scream you just heard was Jon Cryer and Conchata acknowledging their unemployment. Hey, in an unprecedented turnabout, perhaps they should replace Sheen with Michael J. Fox. I'm pretty sure Fox could play drunk."

Me: "They could re-name it 'Spin City.'

Jen: "It's just so freakin' sad. Such a good show, and such talent all around. It hadn't even jumped the shark yet, and he has to blow it all to pieces. Carlitos, you have let me down!"

Me:  "It's not over until Conchata sings."

Jen: (about her 11 year old daughter): "It involved a long and carefully edited explanation of what Charlie Sheen's been up to, a description of the wacky truisms of Yogi Berra and a few very basic facts about opera, but it was worth it to Agatha share in the LOL." 

Me: "I am now burdened with the task of trying to make the phrase 'wacky truisms of Yogi Berra' work seamlessly into a conversation."

Jen: "We're too erudite and renaissance for own good."

-----

Since Jen's IQ is slightly (okay, a lot) more than mine, I had to stop there. Just know that I mourn the loss of this show. It got me through some difficult times in my life. As they say, "Laughter is the best medicine that won't get you taken to court after your pickup ends up in the ditch."

Safe travels, everyone. 

 

A Rude Awakening

The blog is live here, for those who came through facebook:

http://talesfromthewaitingroom.typepad.com/

Since daddy's out of town, the appliances are once again operating on the same wave-length. While there is usually a sort of détente between appliances and vehicles, these barriers come down to unite against a common enemy when they sense Brett has left the hemisphere.    

Shortly after he jetted off, I was nervous with anticipation. I should make book on this, except there are too many variables. Less than 24 hours later I was rewarded with the brakes going out on the Suburban, while I was driving 5 children to horseback riding lessons. I knew enough to take it slow and pump the brake pedal all the way home, and by the time I turned into the driveway I had to stand up on the brake pedal to get the vehicle to stop. But we made it. Parked the suburban, turned my attention to the heir apparent for the next 9 days--the 15 passenger Eggplant. The next morning, Josh noticed a pool of water under the front of it. Sure, the water pump had recently gone out, but Brett had fixed it before he left. Perhaps this was residual.  I decided to ignore it if and until any future issues presented themselves. So far, so good. 

I looked forward to sleeping in for a little while Saturday morning--not for too long, but just a little while. Christina was taking the 5 older children to Bible Quiz, which lasted until it was time to go to the Fall Fest at church last night. So we just met them all there. However, the best laid plans and all, as they say.

"To sleep, perchance to be awakened." 

Sometime shortly after 5 a.m. an unfamiliar alarm went off. Not *my* alarm, because even with a cobweb of sleep enveloping me, I know how to turn that off. "Malfunctioning smoke alarm" was my next thought. I'm not sure why my first thought is always that the smoke alarms are malfunctioning when they go off, and that there isn't really a fire. I'm either an optimist or a fool. Feel free to vote in the comments section. 

The sound was cricket-like elusive. I unplugged every appliance in the bathroom, and then started going through drawers. Progress! A drawer I opened made the sound unbearably louder. Brett's travel drawer. Ahh, he was with me even when gone. I opted not to get lost in the romance of it, but instead tore through the drawer, opening business class travel kit after business class travel kit. The children love these so we don't throw them out. They contain cute little toothpaste tubes and various tiny sundries that make going to camp or a night at a friend's more fun. 

Finally! I had the culprit in my hand. It appeared to be a large black button with no discernible means of turning it off, and it was apparently at the end of its useful battery-life. However, it was not going to peacefully shuffle off this mortal coil, nor go quietly into that dark night. I stomped on it. Pieces flew. Each piece mocked me, making a continually louder noise as I exposed the insides. Another instrument of destruction is what was needed here. Ah...my old nemesis, the bathroom scale. 

It exploded and silenced the device once and for all. I knew that scale would be good for something, someday. I left the carnage on the floor, noting that I still had another 2.5 hours to sleep, so back to a warm, comfortable bed it was. Instead of sleep, however, the unbidded thought popped into my head: "I don't read to the children often enough. I should start another series, like we used to do. I used to be a better mother."  That got me thinking about different literature, and a saying from Charlotte Brontë came to mind:  "A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow."  

Grabbed my laptop to see if I could lull myself to sleep by reading political websites. Finally decided to forget it, and got up. There's a certain peacefulness that exists when I am up and no one else is. I don't experience it often enough, thankfully.

Time, then, for photos of the destroyed alarm. Some good shall rise out of the ashes of insomnia.

After the photo, I threw away the offending pieces in three different trash cans, lest the parts find each other and reassemble back into a working alarm. I'm not an evolutionist, but I do think that in this instance the laws of physics would be suspended, order would arise from disorder, and Roboclock would once again be a functional unit if left to its own devices in a single trash can. 

Speaking of Bible Quiz (weren't we?), we received our buzzer pads this week. At the competition, it's all about who jumps first. Like a game show. So they sit on the pads and the machine determines who jumps first. We were thrilled to get our practice units, and the kids wanted to try them out.

We had a guest this past week, a son of friends of ours. He's on the far left. He's also Josh, so I was relegated to middle names or last names all week. I noticed it made Guest Josh nervous to have me yell out his full name (which includes two middle names). So we went with first and last names. We were sorry to see him leave yesterday, he was an entertaining guest. The boys enjoyed having help with the chores. 

Last night was the Fall Fest. Josh manned one of the games.

Gideon loved picking out prizes.

As did Isaiah.

Susannah helped me a lot at my booth, and then was released to go play for awhile. Her favorite game was the basketball hoop thing. She tried hard and finally got one in. 

Christina found a baby to hold.

On the way out, they all had to do the bouncy castle one more time.

They ended up using the extra "fall back" hour last night coming down off their sugar high. 

Today we have friends coming over for lunch after church, and we're going to practice photography, using our children as the guinea pigs. One of the ladies got some new lights and is anxious to try them out. We'll do so in the makeshift studio I have in the basement.

It appears I have to postpone my breakdown once again. It was all scheduled for the summer of 2025, but I think I'll still be busy. 

Riding, Playing, & a Non-Sequitor Retrospective

Is it really Thursday? I think I've finally recovered from my weekend! Last night was crazy hat night at AWANA, and I made the mistake of letting Josh pick out a "crazy hat" for me. I wore a bike helmet the whole night, and as one of the leaders, I didn't even get AWANA bucks for it. 

Saturday was the MQHYA (Missouri Quarter Horse Youth Assoc.) show. 

Here's Mercy, warming up for the barrel race on "Snuggles". As you can see, she's not entirely thrilled having a handler lead her, as she is used to riding by herself. But, them's the rules. There were just too many children and too many people there that day. Her class lessons on Thursdays give her lots more freedom. 

Abigail gets her turn as well, on her favorite horse Dolly.

The girls watch the other competitors...

Plenty of games for the other (non-participating) kids, to keep them occupied during all the excitement of watching children endlessly parade around the arena (yeah...it's the kind of thing that only parents love!).

Judson ropes a dangerous bale that is sporting fake horns.

Gideon and Isaiah get in on the "orb-roping" action, but get their toys twisted up. 

Wow, look at that group of participants! What a great day.

Abigail and Mercy got a plaque for barrel racing, and three ribbons: for participating in the trail ride, the general ride, and all-around...participation. They're quite pleased, and begged daddy to hang them up in their room as soon as they got home. Caveat from mom: I had to get a picture first. Mercy's lips aren't really blue...well, they are here, but it was from the blueberry kool-aid. Not normally though.

Sunday brought us to our piano teacher's church. We've tried to plan this event for some time, and it finally worked out.  The children played piano, and Susannah sang. 

What a sweet church, and everyone was so nice!

Beautiful inside and out!

Mercy played "Funeral March of the Marionettes" 

 

Susannah sings "Jacob's Ladder." She really belts it out at home, but still gets nervous in front of crowds. Can't blame her, my mind goes completely blank in front of a crowd! As the song goes on, she is more sure of herself. 

  Abigail played "Blessed Assurance"

 

Yeah, I don't expect you to watch everyone's. But as their mom, I think they all play beautifully! So this is mainly for my benefit (and extended family members if they so choose). 

Josh plays "The Wandering Musician" and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross"

 

 Well, I can't get youtube to upload any more right now. Well I *can* but the upload time keeps saying "153 minutes left" so I'll upload the rest another day. 

There was a "Carry-in Supper" after the service. We brought deviled quail eggs. They're tiny, delicious, and draw attention to us ;)  A little boy once asked me at another carrry-in, "Are your chickens sick?"  

There was so much good food there!  By "good" I mean, "no canned fruit floating in gelatin."  Oh, but it really was good. Loosely quoting Dolly Parton from Steel Magnolias "There's nothing better than fried chicken made by good Christian women." I think that was Steel Magnolias anyway.

 And now, The Retrospective (queue reverb):

Now that I'm a grandmother and have been a mother for even longer, I look back at some of the things I put my own parents through. I've apologized for most of them I think, but I remembered something this morning that I feel needs to be addressed. In high school I had a serious boyfriend, and a friend whose cat had just delivered quadruplets. One of the kittens was a Calico and I love (even to this day) calico cats. 

I wanted a kitten SO badly but I knew my mom wouldn't allow another cat in the house. So I decided to ask her a hypothetical question--"What if someone told you were going to be a grandma?"  I made it clear that it was just a simple question that meant nothing, but for some reason she freaked out. I found myself in the unexpected (yes, I was that naive) position of having to reassure her several times that she was NOT going to become a grandmother "per se."  That did not seem to soothe her. When I finally mentioned the kitten, she was so relieved that she said yes. The kitten, which happened to be in my pocket for some odd reason, was then introduced to her catmother. But my mom drew the line at being called anything but "mom" by anyone else. 

Shasta the cat went with me when I married and she lived a good life. But I'm quite sure it took a few years off my own mother's life. Sorry, mom!

Have a great weekend, all!

 

Signs of the Times, Part Deux

As I've attested to previously, this is a strange land we've moved to. Though after two years, I now feel very much at home, I am still struck by the amount of statues of livestock. Today's entry brings us "Attempts at Humor." Tip for signmaker:  too obvious, thus not truly funny, but otherwise noteworthy and photo-worthy. 

And hey, who doesn't like walnuts? But do I like them enough to have to make an appointment to buy them? It's hard enough for me to remember to make appointments for the children to get their yearly (or semi-yearly, depending on the condition) exams. So I shall opt out of making a Walnut Appointment and trust Providence that there will be some on the store shelves when I need them for the upcoming holiday baking season.

Ah, but now on to the fun stuff! We received two shipments today. None of them were livestock, yet they were welcome all the same. We first became acquainted with Kinder Eggs when we visited my sister and her family  when they lived in the United Arab Emirates. I thought this was something unique, so when Brett and I were able to be in France for a week last January, celebrating our 30th anniversary, we visited friends and I was going to bring their children some Kinder Eggs, but then realized they were widely available in Europe, and in fact pretty much everywhere except the U.S. 

But being a resourceful type, if I do say so myself, I found out how to purchase them on the inter-tube. However, they are illegal to sell in the U.S. (some silly thing about the toys being small enough to choke on). So, we purchase them from a Canadian supplier. It's not that I think I'm above the law, I just like to sit next to it and mock it from time to time. 

We ordered them in May, but due to the hot weather, they only ship these delicacies when it gets cool enough so that they don't melt. My poor children had to do without their kinder-eggs all summer long. 

They're really neat. Chocolate with a toy inside. Josh wasn't sure about the pink baby dinosaur emerging from her egg, so he traded for a more manly toy.

 Isaiah, as always, is happy with his toy.  We're not sure what this is, to be honest.

To be honest, Mercy wasn't really thrilled with her fire hydrant toy. But she did enjoy the chocolate. 

The other package that arrive today contained the surf 'n turf items I'd ordered for Brett's birthday. More importantly, it contained dry ice. It does look really cool and bubbly, but you have to be there.

Josh decided to get the full view. 

Have a great Friday, all!

 

 

 

Food, and other Delicacies

Just because you haven't seen me doesn't mean I haven't been here. Well not *here* exactly, but here as in...not gone. 

Good thing I don't write song lyrics for a living. 

A week ago Saturday the girls were signed up for an old-fashioned children's tea. This was for girls ages 7-12 and as I only have two that still fall into that category, they were the lucky ones. The turnout was wonderful, and this was the first time that the organization (Jesse James Museum and Farm) had done a children's tea. We learned so many things! Here are the girls starting out, playing tic-tac-toe.

It ended in a tie.

But what a cute game nonetheless!

Mercy tries her foot at spinning the top.

Then the ring toss...

Making rag dollies!

Playing pass the bean bag:

My personal favorite part of the day: A reading from "Little Women." 

Susannah read the part of Beth...

And Mercy wanted to narrate.

And perhaps the funniest, yet sweetest part of the day was the actual tea. First, the children read the rules of conduct.

Rules of conduct...are you listening, children? It even came with a detailed drawing of a table full of incredibly rude people that none of us should ever emulate. 

See? They're all numbered, lest you should wonder which faux pas they are committing, simply look to the sheet. The most amusing thing is that the only "rude" thing the woman is doing, is bringing a hungry  baby to the table. I don't know how to discipline a baby out of being hungry...

And the rest of the table are rude gents indeed, not helping the lady at all, but sure, the dog gets fed. 

Once we knew what was expected of us, we were allowed to proceed to the tea table.

I know, right?

The girls were soon done, then it was time for more crafts. 

 Then over to the schoolhouse, for a quick lesson on what it meant to go to school if you'd lived in 1889.

Ahhh, penmanship. I remember thee well. 

We were treated to Home, Home on the Range as we sang along.

Was life really simpler then?  I think, in some ways it was. 

Or perhaps, simply more charming.

And yet, I'm glad I'm sitting in air conditioning, able to blog about this. I suppose each age carries its own charm that is not quite recognized as it's happening. 

But on to the modern day! The jr. and sr. high at our church had a "food fight kick-off" for the beginning of the year. My children were especially excited, as they have never been allowed to throw food at someone before. Not that they haven't done so (I'm not quite that ignorant) but here it was actually  encouraged. Thank you to Denise who took photos of the evening. 

While talking to my children about it later, they were nearly certain that the event drew in teens from the area that they had never seen before. 

 

 Although I'm left wondering, how can they be sure?

They were sorta clean by the time they got home.

But I still felt the need to wash their clothes. Although of course my children are always thankful for everything I've done for them (*cough*) it's been awhile since I actually heard them thank me for letting them attend and meet some new people. 

Perhaps the past week has me waxing nostalgic about a lot of things. Knowing Brett and Josh were soon to be leaving for Haiti to help with the mechanics of the well-digging equipment (of which Haiti,  unfortunately remains in much the same condition as shortly after the earthquake), I declared that last Friday would be Huge Lunch Day. 

The chickens were put in the roaster. It's pure torture, smelling them cook and knowing it's at least another hour until lunchtime. 

My mashed potatoes. YES I leave the skin on. It's more nutritious that way, is what I tell myself. 

The toppings. Country gravy (as opposed to that nasty City gravy) and sour cream:

It was, of course, not complete without banana pudding. The decision to make this particular dessert was weighed heavily and discussed intensely. Then we discovered we had bananas, pudding mix, and milk. The decision practically made itself. 

 

The pudding and mashed potatoes were both made with our goat's milk. Thank you to Oreo, Pygmy goata, and Horned White Goat (okay, we don't always get around to naming all of them). 

Have a good week, all!

Man Sale

Though we were supposed to welcome daddy back home today, an earthquake in New Zealand prevented flights getting out. We're certainly thankful that at least as far as they know, no one has died but there's been lots of damage. So we'll focus on that instead of being too disappointed. Hopefully daddy will be home tomorrow. 

Oh, and the fact that the house behaved itself this week! So far! True, the guest house tried to get in on the action, setting off its fire alarm at 2:30 a.m. the first night Brett was gone. So the alarm company called. While it's never fun to get a middle-of-the-night phonecall, my first conscious thought was that it must be the airlines calling, and not with good news. After realizing that there was no other option but to go check out the guest house (before they dispatched the fire department), I thought "If there really is someone there, I'll take Josh with me." Though Josh is 15, he's nearly 6 ft. tall and could wield a baseball bat if necessary. At least he could be intimidating. Or if there really was a fire, no need to actually enter the place, just go back and tell the alarm company to go ahead and send the fire department.

Then I remembered.  Josh was at a loosely-named "sleepover" at a friend's house. I could've just woken up all the other kids and made the perp run screaming in terror at the sheer number, but instead I opted to take my Corin, my Great Pyrenees, who would certainly do all he could. Maybe herd the perp into a corner while I cited scripture, or wise words from Mother Teresa until I found my cell phone. Oh, here's my fearsome boy, in a photo from last winter.  

Turns out it was the average yearly glitch, upon which the guest house, feeling neglected, wants in on a little action. Perhaps it heard through the Druid Network that being on fire gets one some attention and a shower. 

Oh and Josh returned the next morning, in time for chores. He claimed to have only slept a half hour and played Catan or video games the rest of the night, and that he was able to "handle it" without needing sleep. But right after lunch...

Noah arrived yesterday, for a long weekend visit. He brought gifts for everyone.

Gideon's always pleased whenever someone remembers he's a leap frog (born on Leap Day).

Noah has always loved to cook, but doesn't get to at the assisted living place he resides at. So I make the most of it while he's here for holidays or long weekends. Fruit salad and pizza last night.

Scrambled quail eggs with onion and mushrooms this morning.

The girls had a great 2nd lesson at NTRC. Abigail rode Sheena, who had a twinkle in her eye and was more up to Abbi's speed. Abbi was able to control her very well. 

Mercy had Boomer, who often didn't feel like walking at all, so took a bit of coaxing. 

I'll leave you with a sign of the times. I don't know what it means. I merely give the message, I leave the interpretation to others. It did make me smile, which is really all that matters. Also that I finally have a title for my post today.

Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!

Hello, Kitty!

and Happy Birthday, Abigail (yesterday)!

Did I tell her it was okay to grow up?

Chinese food was the dinner request.

 

 
Siblings and friends enjoyed the meal. 

 

Josh and Christina dished out the ice creams.

 

A make-up case!  Seems it was the perfect gift. 

 
 

Today was not quite as much fun, at least for some of the children who needed their annual physicals. Gideon wanted to know "how tight it was going to get"

 

They worked Isaiah in, even though he didn't have an appointment, because a couple days ago he went down a slide and somehow landed on his finger. This happened at Chuck E. Cheese at a party, and since it's against my religion to go into that establishment, I dropped him off with the adults in charge. Here he is, waiting for an x-ray.

 

Fortunately it's just a sprain and will heal in a few days. The pathetic tape 'n splint job I'd done wasn't helping, so we'll just leave it be. 

Susannah had her share of pain, and kept bragging how she wasn't going to cry while getting her shots, like Gideon did. I suppose that's technically true, but she gave quite a yell.

 
 Following appointments was a series of errands, far too dull to describe but I'm sure you all have your own versions of pharmacies, Walmart, and grocery stores. 

And of course, since Brett was out of town this past week, here's the appliances that have committed suicide over the past few days:

Detective Munch, the garbage disposal. 

 

Sparky, the 'lower level' microwave that the foot-users among us use. 

 

And of course Gator, who's needed for many farm chores. It wouldn't be so bad to walk, but the temps this week have achieved 150 F if I'm not mistaken. 

 

Welcome home, daddy!

 

Post-partum Elation & Feeling Blue

Friday....

It seems that there can be an actual plan when allowing livestock to breed...keep them away from each other until winter, and then they give birth in the spring and summer, when it is warm and we don't have to worry about the babies freezing, or make sure everyone stays in a stall and has hay and water (that also doesn't freeze). It's so much easier this way. Of course the trick is to keep the boys and girls separated during the summer. Not to be too graphic but it's amazing what can occur between fences. 

So! we have babies on the farm, and it's not winter, and the children can go play with the babes whenever they want. 

First, the twins. I highly suspect they have different daddies, because the white one has blue eyes. And the other one looks a lot like most of the other dairy goat babies on our farm. 

The triplets, born to a mom that has only ever had triplets so that wasn't a surprise. She's a fainting goat that we acquired from A Peculiar Farm a few months ago.  

The babies look big to me, and they are only 2 days old here. Yeah, mom was enormous and the last few days before birth, she could barely walk. 

Oh and our kitties! We had one cat that escaped the mass spay/neuter we had done of all our barn cats. So who's the father? Must have been a wandering minstrel. There's four kittens, but they all kinda look the same. Anyone want one?

 

And now....the little things in life that bring me a great deal of joy. A bouquet of wildflowers picked by my dear Brett, from around our property. The "hay guy" will be here in a few days to mow everything down (it's a win-win, he bales all our hay and sells it, we get our acreage mowed and a nice check).  

 

An early Father's Day dinner, as poor daddy will be out of town on the actual Father's Day. In fact, he will literally not have a Father's Day at all, since he will be passing over the international date line and go straight from Saturday to Monday. So we celebrated early. What could be better than lobster bisque soup, crab cakes with herb butter, filets and dinner rolls and four kinds of cheesecake? Oh yeah, the fact that I didn't actually make any of it. The internet is a beautiful thing.  I did have to heat it all up though (puts back of hand to forehead in a wearisome manner).

The children ate outside :)

 

Earlier that day we'd gone blueberry-picking, as I'd warned about in a previous post. Gideon picked a whole 4 berries in the first 15 minutes. He was told to step it up a bit. But sometimes, the play's the thing, eh?

 We went with friends, and sweet little Naomi would get upset every time someone ate a berry (you know, just to test and see if they were good). She'd be near tears and say "Don't eat them, you don't know if they're paralyzed!"

 We finally figured out that she meant "fertilized" and had been warned not to eat berries that had recently been sprayed. We appreciated her concern for our health and well-being. Perhaps she'll be a doctor when she grows up. 

Susannah figured out that the best, most ripest berries were toward the bottoms of the bushes, where no adults wanted to bend down to get. So she got quite a harvest.

Mercy picked more than her share...

 

A very weary Gideon after a morning of berry-picking. He must have gotten 25 or so. Poor lad. 

 When we were done, we went to have the berries weighed and saw these signs. Josh said, "I think I violated every single rule."

Saturday....

The Driver's Edge training went quite well for Josh and Abigail today. Josh got a laugh when, after the initial instruction there was a Q & A. The officer asked "If an officer of the law pulls you over, what should you be?" Josh said "Sober."

The answer was supposed to be "Respectful." But sober's a good start. 

Josh used the intructor's vehicle. Abigail had to use her own modified car so it didn't have a coolio dashcam. Still, fun to watch Josh:

Ooo, found a couple pix of Abbi driving. This was when the storm started so she got some great practice in on the course. 

 

 

And to all a good night. 

Let Us Eat Cake

Here's what I've been up to:

They're my new grandsons, to anyone nervously trying to figure out a nice way to congratulate me. David Kenneth (left) and Bo Tanner were born February 27, to Taylor and Maggie. I flew out to California to help out for a few days. There were a lot of complications for both babies and mom, but all seems well now. I sure do miss them! But there's always plenty to do around here. 

Such as, Gideon's 5th birthday party the night before I flew out. It's not imperative we celebrate on the actual date, especially since we'd have to wait three more years for that. He's a leap year baby. Pizza was requested for dinner. 

And a dinosaur cake for dessert.

Much merriment ensued, until the surprise guest showed up.

Christina started cosmetology school a few days ago. She has a disturbing array of heads to practice on. I named them all Marie Antoinette. 

Yep, looks like things are back to normal around here.