Yard Time

David’s truck had to go to the mechanic.  And have you ever met any other couple in this great country who has things break down as much as David and I do?  I ask you?

Anyways.  His truck was finished and we were able to get it to my parents house but we had to work out a plan to get the truck back home.  And that plan involved me driving Hadley and the boys to my parents house before school so they could hop in the truck and drive that for the day, and then drive the truck home.

My plan, in case you cared, was to drop them off, go to a doctor’s appoinment, and then go and work in the school building for the day.

Once we drove ALL the way to town, I realized I left ALL my teaching technology at home.

And then my car started to break down.  Reader, I am not even joking with you.  And why would I joke about such a thing?  And what is wrong with us?

So, I drove my car to my parents, commandeered my dad’s truck and left my car for David to deal with as he saw fit.  And let us have a moment of recognition for my parents.  We use their house as a place of refuge for broken down vehicles and weary teens who should not be driving on icy roads home late at night.  And my dad isn’t even phased anymore by my crazy life.

Me at 7:20 this morning:  Dad.  I am almost to your house to drop Hadley off to get David’s truck.  But my car is breaking down.  Like right now as I speak.  Can I use your truck?

My Dad:  That’s fine.  Let me get dressed.

And my nice Dad had both trucks warmed up and was scraping the ice off of them.

Holla, Dad!

Then I went to the doctor and who knows what is wrong with this knee?  And I am getting an MRI and my knee breaks down as often as my car.

And then I drove my dad’s truck home.  I got home ten minutes before I went live with my class and so I was all a-flutter, but I got it done and in case you were dying to know, we learned about how you double the last letter in one syllable words with short vowels that end in F, L, S, and Z.  Such as, but not limited to, stuff, hill, mess, and buzz.

Floss rule.  Nailed it.

Then the kids had a break and I ran outside to see Hazel.  I had a new idea where I would give Hazel some outdoor recreation time.  I was starting to feel like Hazel was my prisoner.  I would go and give her a meal and then lock her back up in the chicken coop.  And prisoners get yard time, so why not Hazel?

So, I was trying to coax her out of the warm coop and into a snowy outdoor pen and she was not feeling as excited as I hoped she would be.  And I had to get back to those first graders, so I just picked her up and carried her.  And when I got inside, I noticed this on my pants.

And at first I was like, “It’s ok, the kids cannot see it.”

And then I was like, “No, Taylor.  Change your pants.  You are better than this.”

But I only changed into sweat pants.  Because, farm life.

And then I taught and I love my students and we had a good day.

At lunch, I went out to feed Hazel and bring her back in from her outdoor rec time.  While I was feeding her, something happened to Norman the puppy.  My best guess would be that the horse kicked him, and, Reader, he 100% deserved it.  Those puppies are total punks to the cows and the horse.  So now Norman is too scared to go outside and is it bad that I am hopeful that he will now stop trying to herd the livestock?

I finished the school day, and Niko, Charlie, and I went out to visit our friend, Hazel.

Norman would not come with us.

And here is your obligatory Hazel videos for the day.

Listen to her moo at me.  I just can’t.

Here’s Charlie, helping her stay clean.

Charlie has taken over the “bathing” duties of rearing Hazel.  And fine by me.  She even clean up her, *ahem* backside.

Stand down, Reader!  I call her off . . . eventually.

I just looked out the window.

It is snowing again.

Hooray.

Pop Quiz-How many wash cycles would you run those poop pants through?

Happy Thursday.