Here is your daily snow picture:
I saw a bunch of frantic turkeys the other day. Poor animals. I wonder where they go in this arctic tundra?
I am finally going to finish answering all the questions. I hope I remembered everyone!
From Gina
Have your girls starting borrowing “your things” and then go crazy when you ask to borrow something of theirs? (your girls may still be a little young for this one so if they are…)
I would love to say that I can fit into a girls size 7. And I know I appear to be petite and all . . . but, no. We cannot yet share clothes
Daisy Mae is constantly begging to wear my long, dangly, costume earrings. However, I have known this child a long time and have seen her walk straight into walls and fall down for no apparent reason.
She can’t handle the costume earrings.
We share ponytail holders.
How often do you and LJ have a “date night” (no kiddos)?
Once every 3 months or so.
Boo. Lame. Boo.
From Katie B:
Do you write letters to Santa?
I finally stopped. I am beginning to think he isn’t real.
When do you put up decorations?
Around the first of December.
When do you allow Christmas music to start being played/sang in the house/car?
Mariah Carey has been performing here daily for us every since the snow fell.
All I Want for Christmas is You, baby.
From Heather (not the nurse and not living in ND)
Hi Taylor! (I’m yelling at my computerish device now)
1. Do you and the LJ fight or have arguments over stupid stuff? If so, I will require an example.
Never. We live in perfect harmony.
He’s thrilled whenever I complain, whine, or give him safety lectures and I’m dazzled each time he uses severed deer heads to taunt me, leaves the toilet paper roll empty, sneaks food that I made onto the kids plates when he doesn’t care for it, and chases 400 pound pigs down the highway.
Here’s a question for you, readers.
My husband has the strangest system with his clothes.
Dirty clothes, of course, go in the hamper.
Clean clothes hung in the closet.
But . . . he also has a “kind of clean/kind of dirty” section. These clothes just get thrown in a pile on the floor of the closet.
If I hang them up, he gets mad. Because they are not truly clean. If I wash them, I am silly. Because they weren’t really dirty. I feel that if he is willing to wear them again, hanging them up is feasible.
Is the Lumberjack insane? I vote yes.
2. Are you ever going to share with us what two things you are not allowed to blog about? Inquiring minds need to, nay must know!
Do you want my husband to kill me?
There is a lot of weaponry in this house.
3. If you weren’t a super awesome stay at home mom/homeschool teacher/dog trainer/cook/maid/supervisor/task master, what would your dream job be? What would the LJ’s dream job be?
I would like to be an ultrasound technician who worked minimal hours and made maximum dollars. Ideally, I would love to go to the gym and frequent it 5 times a week. My husband would take me on lavish vacations each year. And I would never have a bad hair day.
LJ is not here. But, it is safe to say that he truly wants to be a logger.
That is all. Over and out!
10-4, Heather not the nurse and not living in ND.
From Gianna
Do you have a lawn to mow? And if you do, who does it?
Our new place does not have grass. It has bushes and weeds. Our well doesn’t produce enough water to actually water a lawn, so we will not ever have one.
LJ is hoping to bulldoze it all and plant “prairie grass.”
Or whatever in the heck that is.
He’s weird.
We have to regularly mow the other house . . . you know . . . the cute one in town by the lake?
I try to mow, but I can’t ever start the lawn mower.
Darn.
From Mindee
My questions:
1) Why are the pictures on your blog suddenly bigger? Are you getting all fancy pants on us?
Fancy is my middle name.
2) What is the liquid Taylor? What IS the liquid?
(This was from a comment I left on Mindee’s blog. It refers to puddles of mysterious liquid that has toilet paper soaked into it and can be oft found on the floor of public restrooms.)
Urine, Mindee.
The liquid is urine.
Wash your hands.
From JoAnne:
Why is buying a house so much work? I am exhausted. Why do they want to see my third grade report card before they give me a loan?
I don’t know. All I know is that when we bought our house, I had worry diarrea for a week.
Mostly because I was worried I would have to move to Ruralville.
When are you guys coming to visit?
When you properly invite me.
What is your favorite recipe, for like, food?
I can’t say. Basically, because I am an amazing cook and all my recipes are just from my brilliant mind and can never be duplicated.
But to give you an idea on what you are missing out on, each night, my husband praises me and my mad wifely skills and my kids declare themselves blessed to be birthed from my loins.
From Christina
If that is your messy house then I don’t know if we can be friends.
Are we friends?
Yes.
I always thought of us as friends, even though we’ve never met.
Can we be friends?
Yes.
Even though my house is about 78 times messier than yours?
It’s not.
What is your favorite line from a movie? (That is for each of you.)
LJ is not here. His probably has to do with guns and shooting and whatnot.
I have too many to pick just one.
Today, I’m liking:
“I made my family disappear.”
Name that movie.
From Debra
Do you like beets? And if so, or even if not, how do you get the beet stain out of the carpet?
No and clear ammonia mixed with hot water takes lots of oopsies out of carpet.
Not that I know about oopsies on carpet. LucyFur.
From Calfkeeper
I have a question (and an answer to one of the questions above): How do you convince a 3 and 1/2 yr old who’s just been potty trained that she can’t go commando the rest of her life, she needs to wear panties under her pants, dresses…etc?
Well. I bought my son 9 pairs of new underwear to encourage him to like underwear.
And he tried to put all 9 pairs on at once.
So, I am not a good person to ask.
From Melissa
What is a “Carhartt?”
Oh, Melissa. You could not be a Lumberjack’s wife. Nor an electrician’s.
Carhartt is a brand of heavy duty work clothing.
My husband has classified his Carhartt collection into two categories.
The first is “Work Carhartts.”
Work Carhartts are what he wears every day of his life. They are torn and ripped from where drills have gone through them and chainsaws have knicked them. They have 65 convenient pockets, of which I always miss one and end up washing a fuse or two.
A little electrical phrasology there for you.
The second is “Dressy Carhartts.”
These are the Carhartts that are kept spanking new for occasions such as weddings, funerals, and any other event where I tell him he has to wear a button down shirt and he throws a fit and says, “Fine. But I am wearing my dressy Carhartts.”
It’s all about compromise, people.
Dressy Carhartts still have the added bonus of many, convenient pockets.
None of my pants can hold sippy cups.
Holla, Carhartts!
Holla.
Happy Wednesday!
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