Renegade Piglets and Other Such Tales

Taylor during the school year:  Maybe in the summer, I will find time to blog.

Taylor during the summer:  Oh, shoot!  My blog!  Maybe I will find time during the school year when we are in more of a “routine.”

Such is life.  I sure do miss writing.

Today was “Clean Out The Boys’ Closet Day.”

*Shudder*

My boys want to wear zero pairs of pants.  Even when it is 7 degrees outside.  I am the adult of our relationship, so I have to be all responsible and make sure they at least have a few pairs of pants.

The dudes holding up non-jeans:  Why do we even HAVE these?  Get rid of them!

Me:  No way!  What if I have to take you somewhere decent?

Handsome Dude:  These will not fit me.

Me:  Oh sure they do.  I am not donating these.  Then we will get invited to a wedding and I will have to take you shopping.  I am not buying more dress pants.

So, I have them try them on.  Certain am I that I shall win this battle.

Yes.  I was wrong.  And yes.  Little Dude is holding a cat.  And why wouldn’t he be holding a cat?

Will I go buy new dress pants?  NO!  But I will become horribly stressed come November when we are invited somewhere and I realize all they have are jeans and basketball shorts.  With cat hair on them.

The dudes are growing up.  Little Dude turned 9 last month.  NINE!  Both boys are able to work a bit more and earn money.  Instead of spending all their money on fidget spinners, gum, and football cards, David and I encourage them to put their money into bank accounts.  And the boys have more money saved than each of their sisters.  I know.  It’s like the Twilight Zone over here.

Little Dude to Handsome Dude:  We should use our money to buy a POOL!

HD:  Are you crazy?!  We can’t buy a POOL.  We live in the wild!  Deers would stand by it and shed their antlers in it.  It would be a mess!

LD (stops and thinks for a moment):  True.

We have little out here in Ruralville for 7 years now.  When we first moved in, I asked David if we could have a fire pit.  Years have passed, and there have been many projects, but no fire pit.  He’s a busy guy.  I get it.  I moved on, and I haven’t even suggested it for at least two years.

And then, about 2 weeks ago, he said to me, “Hey.  How much money do we have right now?”

He asked this because I am the CFO of the family and I know all the things.  Obviously.

Readers.  This question that he asks me always fills me with dread.  And I just knew he found a smokin’ deal on Craigslist for a tractor.

Me (trying to not sigh):  Why?

David:  I was thinking of putting rock down in that area over there and building a fire pit.

Now.  A tractor, I don’t think we can afford.  But a FIRE PIT?  Sure!

So, that’s what we did.  And it is magnificent.  And guess how much we spent on the rock?

One Thousand Dollars.

!

Can you believe such a thing?  Each rock is precious and we will not allow any child to throw one or any dog to relieve himself on one forever and ever.  Amen.

If you look closely, you might be able to see that David hung hooks on the tree so I can hang flower baskets.

!

I have high hopes that my lovely flower baskets will not become feeding troughs for deer.

I bought some marshmallow roasting sticks to have out there and I was talking to HD about how I thought it might be a good idea to have a large nail in the tree so we could hook the roasting sticks to the tree.

Me:  But I don’t have a hammer.  And I don’t have a large nail.  We will need to wait for dad to come home.

HD:  I have just the perfect nail in my toolbelt, Mom!

Yes!  I forgot!  David gave the boy his old tool belt.  And apparently, the tool belt came fully equipped with nails and a hammer!   Yay!

So Handsome Dude, went out with me to the tree.

HD:  Where do you want it, Mom?

I showed him and he put the nail in the tree and hung up the roasting sticks.

Oh.  This could come in handy, my friends.  Sons who are handy?  Mmm-hmmm.  This could work.

Let’s talk about the garden.

In years past, we have spent our entire lives weeding that darn thing.  And for what?   AND FOR WHAT.

No.  I am not bitter.  Why do you ask?

This year, David suggested we only do the berry end of the garden and not try to grow the corns and the beans and the whatnots.  This was all very fine with me.  As luck would have it, we have had a TON of berries this year.  A TON.  I have so many frozen berries in my freezer, friends.  You should be jealous.

Daisy Mae and I have made 4 batches of jam thus far.  Here we are, taking a “selfie”, with one batch:

Me:  I don’t get it!  Where do I put my eyes?

Daisy Mae (AKA . . . The Selfie Queen):  Just look at the camera.

Me:  I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

And here’s some news that is not going to surprise you . . .

We have a couple of renegade piglets.

Oh, yes.  Mama Pig had herself a litter of piglets.  Not quite sure what happened to most of them, but two are left.

Life is hard out here my friends.  David thinks it was a hawk or something.  All I know is: there were 6, now there are two.

And those two are ruining my life.

They are everywhere.  Except where they are supposed to be.

They are in the driveway.  They try to dig into the chicken coop and have a meet and greet with the hens and ducks.  They sneak into my garden.

And they eat the precious strawberries.

You might say, “Taylor! How do you know they are eating your strawberries?!”

Well, friends.  It is because they have tasty berry juice smeared all over their snouts.

And are we surprised, my dear friends?  Are we surprised that piglets born at Taylor’s house are naughty and eating her strawberries?

No.  No, we are not

Happy Monday!