The Lumberjack's Wife

I took the boys to their well-exams a few days ago.  The doctor asked LD if he had done anything fun, such as go to the local amusement park?

LD:  Nope.  My parents are poor and we never do anything fun.

He is a treasure.

He is also 5’10”, much to the dismay of his older brother, who is only 5’8″.  And in case you were wondering, I, myself, and 5’6″ and spend a lot of my days looking up at these two treasures and attempting to yell/parent them.  And it is going about as well as you might imagine.

They are quite entertaining, those two yahoos.  And they get confused a lot.

Confusing Scenario, Numero Uno:

We had visited family friends and this family had adopted out a child many years ago due to a young pregnancy, and they are open about it and do have contact with her and all is  happy and lovely and blessed.

Son:  Why don’t they see that kid all the time?

Me:  Well, she was adopted to another family.

Son:  I bet she feels bad that they don’t see her often.

Me:  I think she is ok because she has an adoptive family.

Son:  But that’s not her mom and she doesn’t see her mom all that much.

Me:  But the adoptive mother IS her mom.

Son:  What?

Me:  That girl was raised by those parents and she knows them as her parents and loves them and they love her.

Son:  But I bet she feels bad.

Me:  I don’t think she does.

Son:  I am confused.

Me: It would be like if we had adopted you as a newborn and we raised you.  You would know us as your parents, even though we had not given birth to you.

Son:  Oh, so I am adopted?

Me:  *face palm*

Son:  I don’t get it.

Me:  I am not sure how else to help you.

Confusing Scenario #2

Son:  Mom!  Play that “Armadillo” song!

Me:  Huh?

Son:  You know:  Armadillo by morning . . .

Me:  You mean, “Amarillo by Morning” by George Strait

Son:  Nope.  Pretty sure it’s Armadillo.

Confusing Scenario #3

HD is now working.  Like at a job where they needed his social security number and 18 pages of legal paper work filled out.

I. Know.

First, I turn 40.  Then I take a kid to college.  Now this.

He is working at the amusement park that David and I are too poor to take our unfortunate children to.  He is working for a fundraiser for his basketball team, but he will also get paid.

I need you to understand:  he is equal parts thrilled and confused.

He wants new shoes to start his new job and I told him no, he can wear his current shoes and this is displeasing to him because the dogs ate the laces, and, like, what else is new, the dogs eat everything, including, but not limited to, my couch:

Oh, this happened a few months ago.  I am finally ready to talk about it.

There’s not much to say.

The dogs ate the couch.

My dogs are out of control.  My kids are out of control.  I am not running a tight ship over here.

Let’s move on.

The dogs had chewed the laces and the sneakers were showing some wear.  HD was trying to swindle me into buying him back to school shoes early to start work and could he please have SOLID WHITE shoes.

What is wrong with my children?  First, Kate doesn’t know her left and right and now HD thinks it would be wise for him to wear WHITE SHOES.  My child?  Who lives on a farm and plays all the sports and sweats all the time? Are my kids the only kids in the world who lose brain cells as they age?

I washed his shoes and bought new laces.  And I purchased dark blue shoes for back to school for him because I have not lost brain cells.  And he cannot wear them until school starts.  And I can say that because I am the mom and I am still in charge, the pediatrician even said so.

I have gotten super off topic with confusing scenario #3.  Let’s circle back.

HD is so confused about his employment.

Where does he go?  Does he have breaks? Does he have a boss?

Like I know.  I cannot even afford to be amused at this amusement park.

What should he do with his iPhone while working?  What if he is thirsty? How does he work his uniform belt?

Bummer deal for him is I am very special when it comes to things like straps and tie downs and I had no idea how to work this belt.  And, no, it is not a normal belt.  I would tell you what kind of a belt it was, but I don’t even know that.

It was a challenging belt.

Here’s a similar one I stole off the internet:

It is the belt of the devil.

And he had tied it too tight and couldn’t get it to come off.  And this was a problem for two reasons:

1.  What if he had to go to the bathroom?
2. It was so tight he was struggling to breathe.

I tried to help him and I could not.

He eventually figured it out.

He keeps telling me he doesn’t work certain days and the fundraiser person tells me he is and everyone is confused and we have to drive 1 hour 15 min each way to get him to this job where he has to wear old, worn sneakers.

Anyways.  He worked 8 hours yesterday and they have him acting as a cashier and I surely hope people are patient with my poor, confused boy.

The other day, I went to Subway.  And I was nice to that poor, confused boy.

Would you like to know why?

I’ll tell you.

My total was $14.68 and I gave him $20.68 and I completely rocked his world.

He grabbed a $5 and then was grabbing pennies and quarters and looking like he was about to throw up.

I talked him through it and we all came to the understanding that I should get $6.  He was flustered, but I was nice.

Because, maybe,  he, too, has a worried mom at home who is shorter than him and not wealthy enough to take him to amusement parks during the summer.

So I tipped him the $1 I helped myself get back.  But I kept the $5 because I am poor and cannot afford to be overly generous.

Let’s see.  What else . . .

There is a wildfire nearby.  We might have to evacuate.  But we might not.  We probably won’t.

David is now 41.

Kate has NOT used her kayak.

Charlie still cannot swim.

But, Norman can.

We went camping with David’s parents who were celebrating their 44th anniversary.  We went on a kayak ride that literally took 84 years because everyone refused to use their paddles.

It made me fussy.

I still don’t know if I am teaching 2nd or kinder.  My room is in boxes at my house and at the school and I feel like I should probably do something about that.

Later, Dudes.

I came home from my post-op with the knee surgery and had some surgery photos with me of the inside of my knee.

LD:  Oh!  Are you having a baby?

Me:  That would be my knee.

LD:  Hmmm.

I am all the talk at physical therapy.  The peoples had reviewed my history prior to be coming in and expected to see a complete trainwreck walk through their doors on crutches and in a brace.  But, no.  I am walking sans crutches and free from all braces.  I am crushing goals and impressing the socks off of all who encounter me.

Do you have time to hear me be boastful?

I am supposed to be bending to 90 degrees.

I am bending at 130 degrees.

I know.  Be jealous of my progress.

Anyways.  Kate and I took a roadtrip to her new home.  Leading up to the trip, we were discussing what she should pack.  That girl was bound and determined to bring her kayak, so she bought a kayak rack and installed it herself.  I have an unhealthy fear of losing things when driving and causing a terrible wreck.  And, like a fool, I trusted that Kate and David could make sure the kayak was securely fastened.

So, we embark on the trip and about 90 minutes in, I see a blue kayak in my peripheral vision.

Me:  Kate.  Am I supposed to be seeing this kayak?

Kate:  Hmm.  I don’t think so.

So, we stop on the side of the freeway and attempt to tighten the tie-downs and what-have-you.

I texted David:  Almost lost the kayak.  Had to stop on the side of the FREEWAY.  Didn’t die.

David:  Ok.

It was comforting to hear him so concerned.

We hit the road again, and we almost lose the kayak again.  We stop again.  We tighten straps again.  We add another strap for good measure.  We didn’t die again.

And then it happened a THIRD TIME and I told Kate I was literally going to have a heart attack and could we please just leave the kayak on the side of the road.  She scolded me for the idea, claiming I should never litter, and then she called her father and they had the idea to shove the kayak inside the car.

I had my doubts, Reader.  Oh, yes.  I had my doubts.  On account of the fact that her entire car was jam-packed and I couldn’t see out the back window.  Also, please understand, at this point I am 9 days out from surgery and not as spry as I usually am.  So trying to secure and unload and shove and tie down kayaks on the side of a busy highway was less than ideal.

But we did it, and it took about an hour for me to calm down, but once I realized the kayak was secure, my heart started to return to a resting heartrate and I was able to listen to music.  And Kate sang her heart out along with me, and I was happy for her jovial mood, but, Reader, that girl should NEVER audition for American Idol.

Never.

Ever.

Anyways.  We made it to her destination, kayak and all, and I plan on texting her every week to ask her this very important question:

“DID YOU USE YOUR KAYAK, YET?”

Because I surely hope it was worth it.

Sisters Meagan and Jess sent us some trip “fun money” so we were able to stop for Java two times.  In the first photo, you can see the blue kayak behind us.

Kate couldn’t stop laughing at me for how dumb I looked in this picture.  Just, whatever.

We had some leftover monies and got a second treat a couple days later.

Fun times.

Anyways.  Kate is going to live with David’s brother, Jason, and his wife and kids.

Remember Jason?

All my kids double love their Uncle Jason and Aunt Amy, and they triple love their kids, so Kate is excited and David and I feel good about her being there.  It feels better than if she were just plopped all alone, eight hours away, with no one around.

Here’s a throwback photo of Kate with Jason and Amy-prob around 2010.

She loves them!

When we arrived, the little kids were helping Kate unpack and precious nephew-

Remember Precious Nephew?

Precious nephew helped grab a moving box from Kate’s car and ran to her room shouting:

“KATE!  I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ARE A GROWN UP!”

And it is true.  She is a grown up,

Kind of.

People keep asking how David and I are doing with this-with our firstborn moving out.

It’s weird.

It is sad in a sentimental way, but not terribly sad, because it feels natural.  It feels like it is a good move for her right now in her life.  She went through a hard break up with Auggie and she needed a change of pace, an adventure.  And how lucky are we that Jason and Amy welcomed her into their home?  Kate adores Amy, and Amy has medical background.  Amy can guide her through some of her schooling decisions as Kate is following a similar path.  I feel blessed that Kate is with them and know that they will help guide her as needed.

It is odd to not have her around, though, and that will get some getting used to.  But we are happy for her and hopeful that she will connect with new friends and have a fun time.

Sometimes, we feel terrified.  We feel like she might not be ready.  Like when I was trying to help her find her new job in her new town and told her to turn left and she had to hold both of her hands up in front of her so she could see which side her thumb made an “L” on so she would know which one is left.  It is moments like those where I think, “I am not sure you are ready to be an adult here, Missy.”

But then I took her on this road trip, and she got her room all set up and paid for all of her things on her own and even offered to buy me some food at one point, and I think, “Ok, you are on the road to adulthood.”

I don’t know.  It is weird.  And happy.  And sad.  And terrifying.

We went to the river this weekend, and I opened the medicine cabinet up to brush my teeth.  I saw Kate’s toothbrush, and I thought, “Well, what do I do with this?”  Because I do not know if she will come to the river again before camping season is over.  And that was a strange feeling.

I left it there.

I helped Kate get her room all set up.

Complete with the parting gift we all got her for her farewell-

A personalized planter box with a plant-she is always SO hopeful she will be able to grow plants.  Yet, she kills them all.

Sad.

I had a lovely time visiting with my nieces and nephew.

I said goodbye, left my child 8 hours away, and hopped on a plane for home.

And now we are a party of five.

I guess?

Happy Weekend.

I am sure you have all been waiting with bated breath to hear whether or not HD finally has a working iPhone X something.

Yes.  Yes, he does.

Unfortunately for him, the new phone came via uSps on the day of my surgery and no one was headed back to town to help him activate it.  I was still a bit groggy from the surgery and HD decided to bring both of his phones into my room for a quick little phone convo.

HD:  Mom!  How do I keep my pictures?

Me:  Huh?

HD:  If I sign out of my old phone, what will happen to my pictures?

He is currently holding up two iPhone X somethings that look exactly the same.

Me:  Well, I don’t really know.

HD:  Mom!  This is important!  I have pictures of my buck and Norman on the phone.

Me:  I believe there is a Cloud?

HD:  A cloud?

Me:  Yeah.  I think Google made a cloud and all your pictures are there.

HD:  Where is the cloud?

Me:  I have no idea.  But I believe it exists.

HD: How do I find the cloud?

And then I think I drifted off to sleep.  I cannot be certain.

In all honesty, I am not so good with understanding the cloud myself and I truly have no idea what will happen to any pictures.  With help from David and Hadley, he was able to get his phone all squared away with service and he is a happy camper.

About two months ago, HD talked me into letting him get a dirt bike.  I know, I know.  I promise you this, Reader, I did not go down without a fight.  David was Pro-LetTheBoyHaveTheDirtBike and I was Pro-KeepTheBoyAlive.  David’s solution was to have HD and I come up with a contract for the dirt bike with several safety measures in place.  The perk to this contract was anytime he spoke in a sassy-pants way to me, I could take the dirt bike away.

Reader.  He is so sassy, that bike is grounded until September.  It is very easy to keep the boy alive on the dirt bike when he is never riding the dirt bike.  And the new disrespectful thing the boys do is call me a racist.

Boys:  Mom!  There is nothing good to eat.  Can you make biscuits and gravy?

Me:  No, not today.

Boys:  Gosh, you are such a racist.

And then they get grounded from all the things because of their ignorant comments.  Parenting is fun.  I am basking in the glory of the teen years.

Basking.

But, I digress.

Yesterday, we permitted the dudes to have a companion over. They talked me into allowing them to ride their bikes (non-motorized bikes, of course) to a beach to fish and swim.  There is a restaurant near this beach and they also fancied grabbing something to eat.

I said -“Fine.  But everyone needs a helmet and you need to take your phone in case of emergencies.”

Please remember, I am still in knee-surgery-recovery mode and spending a lot of time icing and propping.  I am also getting really good at the game “Word Forest” on my phone, but that is neither here nor there.

So, off they went.

I soon get a call from HD.  HD says LD lost a fishing pole on the bike ride to the fishing spot and it was Dad’s fishing pole and it is worth $500 and Dad is  going to be so so mad and can I please make LD go back and get it.

I have so many questions, but talking to these people is pointless, so I say they have to all stay together with the phone and go and get their father’s fishing pole.

And I had NO IDEA David had a fishing pole that costs $500.  It begs the question-

Does he really have a $500 fishing pole?  Or was HD embelleshing his story?

So, I am icing, propping, killing it on Word Forest, and tracking them on my phone.  I then can see that David, who was driving home near their bike route, had stopped with them.

They are all stopped for about 20 minutes and the service there is spotty so I cannot call anyone.  So, I hop in the car and drive to them.

And this is what I discover.

HD is bleeding.  HD is bleeding because he wrecked his bike.  HD wrecked his bike because the bike he was riding didn’t have brakes.

Me:  Did you know you didn’t have working brakes when you left?

HD:  Yes. Two of the bikes don’t have working brakes.

Me:  And you didn’t think this would be a problem?

HD:  No, because I had a plan!

I didn’t hear the full story of his plan, nor was I interested in the story, but I did hear how he wrecked the bike.

He was going downhill and increasing in speed.  He saw a random driveway that led uphill, so he swerved to go up that driveway to slow the bike.  He did not know that random driveway had a random cable stretched across it, so he hit the cable and went flying into the brush.  Hence the bleeding.

Me:  Where is your helmet?

David:  They have one helmet in a backpack for all three of them.

Me:  *Face Palm*

HD:  Mom, I had a helmet!  I just didn’t NEED it.

Me:  *Face Palm*

Meanwhile, LD is completely oblivious to where he lost his poor father’s fishing pole.  David is not happy about this news, which is understandable, but LD has no clue what happened to it.

Me:  Did you set it down?  Did it fly off your bike?  What exactly happened?

LD:  I don’t know.

Sadly, the three amigos never made it all the way to the lake to swim and fish.  And David and I, being the unreasonable parents that we are, made them load up the bikes and come home.  Except, bummer for me, because now I need to feed them since they weren’t going to get food at the restaurant.  And even though I just went to Costco, they have already plowed through all the vittles.  And, yes, I read a book set back in the days or yore and have been DYING to use the word, “vittles” in natural conversation.  I feel like I worked it in well, don’t you?

Oh, yes.  All the chicken nuggets-gone.  All the cans of Chili-gone.  I have chicken patty burgers, but no buns because LD likes to make garlic bread with the buns.  I don’t have the “good” chips and I don’t have the specific yogurt flavors that are preferred, although I do have the less desirable yogurt available.  But, sadly, the boys can eat strawberry flavored yogurt, but vanilla yogurt makes them gag.

I did have some leftover spaghetti sauce from the other night, so I started to boil some water for noodles when LD comes in shouting joyfully-

“Guess what!  The fishing pole was here all along!  I never even brought it with me, so I didn’t actually lose it!”

So that’s that.

In other news, Kate is moving away very soon and I am starting to realize that I do not think she is ready to take on the world yet.  I mean, she is 18 and allowed to go, but I don’t think that girl is done baking, man.  It’s like I am checking the oven and she is still not ready to go, yet I have to take her out and get her ready to take on the world.  But ready or not, world, here she comes.

So that’s also that.

And this picture popped up in my memories from 9 years ago today.

The Dudes.

This will always be my favorite pic of the two of them.  I mean, just look at it.  It is gold!

Why is HD doing that?

We may never know.

Happy Tuesday.

Kate:  Mom!  How many cows do we have?

Me:  45-50 or so?

Kate:  Are you serious?  It is like we have a FARM, Mom!

HD:  Mom?  Is she for real?

I don’t know, Son.  I just don’t know.

The other day, Hazel got her head stuck in a cattle panel.  HD and I went out to investigate, and we could not get her head back through.

HD tried a couple of different wire cutters, but the wire was too thick for us to cut.  Finally, he went to get the Sawzall.  I tried to push Hazel’s head completely over to one side while he sawed the other side of the wire.  As soon as he started, she was moving her head all about and I made him stop.

I decided we should regroup and think this through first.  I had LD go and get her a bottle with just water and I went around the other side of the panel to feed her.  The water filled her with joy and life.  I  passed the bottle through the panel to HD and she just pulled her head right on out!  Easy peasy.  I am like the whisperer of calves.

Norman the dog knows when I am going to water the plants on my deck.  He waits by the door to attack the light.  Like so:

Poor dog.  Slowly going insane.

I had knee surgery number 8 this week.

It has been, by far, the easiest recovery I have ever had.  I didn’t need crutches and have been able to bear weight the entire time.  I give it two thumbs up!

David brought me home and got me all set up and then had to get some work done.  While he was away, the air conditioner stopped working.

Reader.  Let me tell you something.

I am a pretty easy going gal and I am definitely not too high maintenance for my poor husband, but here is one thing I do know:

Teller does not like to be hot.

My knee was wrapped in like 20 feet of thick cotton and then some ace bandages and it was so thickly wrapped, I couldn’t even feel the cooling relief of the ice packs.  I was instructed to not take the wrapping off for three days, but I was dying, man.

David:  Did you take the bandages off?

Me:  Yes!  I had to! I was dying!

David (eyebrows shooting off of his head):  BUT YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO.

Anyways.  David, who is not an air conditioning repair man, worked for many hours and finally, he got the air conditioning working again.

*My hero*

The poor guy.  He was like, “Sorry, it is not working,”, and I was like, “Sorry, I am hot, fussy and 40 and I cannot live like this.”

So, he fixed it.  He is a nice boy.  I will keep him.  I really appreciated it.  I was absolutely miserable until he fixed it.

Hadley is currently “babysitting” me.  She painted my fingernails and arranged for Lily to bring me my favorite coffee stand treat:  Big Train Vanilla Chai Tea Hot with Nonfat Milk.

The night before surgery, I was pleading with the four children about watering my flowers.  I am very concerned that my flowers will die as a result of my bed-ridden-ness.

LD:  So, are you, like, dying?

Me:  No.  I just want you to water flowers.

LD:  But, are you dying?

Me:  No!

LD:  Ok, then.

And that is all I have to say for now.

Almost two years ago, HD purchased an iPhone off of Ebay with his own money.  We were not yet willing to pay for phone service yet, but he would be able to connect to WIFI and use the phone that way.

A couple of weeks ago, David and I agreed that we would allow him to get phone service on his very pricey iPhone.  I think it is an iPhone X something, and apparently, that means something to people.

I took him to Verizon, and this location was uber-Covid-cautious and asked us to wait in our car and they would text us when they were willing to permit us entrance.

Yet.  They never texted us.

Rude.

I drove the boy to another location.  This location was not Covid-cautious, and we were able to walk right in and be helped.  They begin to activate HD’s phone, and then they regrett to inform me that his phone is “locked,” and cannot be used.

Me:  What does that mean, exactly?

Verizon Dude:  It means it is for another carrier.  Like Sprint or T-Mobile, but I cannot tell you which one.

Me:  Excellent.

Verizon Dude proceeds to tell HD about a promotion they are running and if he opens a new line, he can get a smart phone for ten whole dollars!

HD:  No.  I want an iPhone.

I decide to be a sacrificial mother.

Me:  Ok.  You can have my iPhone and I will transfer the $10 Android to my line.

HD:  I do NOT want your iPhone.

Me:  What?  Why not?  It is hip!

LD:  Mom.  Your iPhone is a “boomer” iphone.  Or a “Karen” iPhone.  Sorry.

So we wasted Verizon Dude’s time and walked out without doing anything.  Later, we got home and looked up the old eBay ad and the seller had said it was unlocked and for Verizon.  So, I agree to email the seller for HD, because I am nice.  Even though it has been almost two years since he purchased the thing.

Kate comes home and I start to relay the story to her.  I then tell her about the boys mocking my iPhone, expecting to get a sympathetic chuckle, or eye roll at least, yet she says, “Sorry, Mom.  Your iPhone is definitely not cool.”

Me:  But why?  Look at it from over there.  From way over there, can you tell it is the “uncool” iPhone?

Kate:  Oh, yeah.

Me:  How?

Kate:  It has a “home” button.  Those are so uncool.

And where did David and I get to the point in our parenting lives where our kids can spend more money on phones than we can and we are the peoples with actual careers?

Ebay gal emails back to say that she herself used the phone on Verizon and she has no idea why Verizon dude would say such a thing.

So I agree to take HD to a third Verizon location.  Apparently we were hopeful that First Verizon Dude was just incompetent and a new Verizon dude would solve all of our problems.

This location has a wait list and no bathroom, and I have had four kids and just commuted all the way into town.  So we put our names on the list and walked next door to Starbucks so I could use the bathroom.  And the dudes talked me into buying them Frappucinos, and I bought the smallest size and they were like $5 each!?  It’s a mad, mad world, Friends.

We waited almost an hour and then we talked to a New Verizon Dude.  New Verizon Dude was younger and hipper, and also much friendlier than the original Verizon Dude.  He looked into it a bit further to let us know that the phone is locked BY Verizon, probably because the gal who sold it to us didn’t pay her bill and there is absolutely nothing to be done.  The phone cannot be used.

HD still firmly believes that the $10 phone, or my boomer phone, are against his religion, so we leave.  He talks me into emailing Ebay gal again, and I was like, dude, it has been two years, she got you, there’s nothing we can do.  And she didn’t reply and he accepted his fate and bought ANOTHER iPhone off of the eBay.

He has been tracking the shipping of this iPhone, and all along, it has said that it would arrive on July 27th, which is this very day, Reader.  We had to go to town, but HD did not want to go until the phone arrived so we could activate it.  Which is understandable.  According to the tracking information, USPS would be delivering it today.

This is where things are going to get dicey, Reader.  I suggest you grab a cup of coffee, because this is going to be a wild ride.

Me:  We need to go.

HD:  No!  I want to wait for my phone!

Me:  It is not coming today.

HD:  It says it will!

Me:  It is not.  The mail already came and the phone didn’t come with it.

HD:  But UPS delivers in the afternoon.

Me:  I know but this is USPS.

HD:  But they still might come.  I have seen UPS come late!

Me:  No.  IT is not UPS.  It is U-SSSSSSSSSSSS-PS.

HD:  I have also seen FedEx come late in the afternoon.

Me:  Look!  It says USPS.  That stands for United States Postal Service.  That is the mail.

HD:  But it still might come.

Me:  No.  The mail came.  The phone did not.

HD:  Well maybe UPS grabbed it instead?

Me:  It does not work like that.

LD:  Did you know that in England they call the mail, “post?”

Me:  Yeah.  That’s why we say things like “Post office” or US Postal Service.

LD *mind blown*

HD:  Can you call the USPS and ask them if we can pick it up?

Me:  Fine.

I call and I put it in speaker phone.  I talk to a robot.  She is pretty friendly for a robot.  We enter the tracking information and she tells us she is sorry but our package will arrive later than usual and is in transit.

Me:  See?  Not going to happen today.

HD:  Call again and just tell them we will grab it.

Me:  I don’t know where it is.  It is in transit.

HD:  Just tell them we can take it from here!

Me:  This is not how things work.

HD:  Well, maybe UPS grabbed it!  Or FedEx!  And it will still come.

Me:  *face palm*

So, HD is annoyed at me because I failed him.  And rightfully so.  You can see how I purposely went out of my way to squash all his hopes and dreams.

We drove to town and I decide to ask LD more about iPhones.

Me:  What kind of an iPhone do I have?

LD:  An iPhone SE.

Me:  And what on earth is wrong with that?

LD:  You have an iPhone 7, but they just gave it a different name.

And so now I will spend the rest of my days trying to understand why MY phone, which takes nice pictures, makes phone calls, sends texts, and is able to stream things like Netflix, is such an inferior phone.

And then I had to take them to Costco and I offered to buy then each one slice of pizza and they somehow talked me into letting them share an entire pizza and they sat at the food court and ate the whole thing while I pushed around a shopping cart and filled it to the brim with food that I hope will satisfy them for at least three days and I ran into a friend and she commented on how full my cart was and that is just embarassing and HD still doesn’t have phone service.

The End.

I bought the boys some acne face wash and instructed them they had to use it.  In order to get them to use it, I have to buy face wash that comes in man-friendly colors.

LD comes out of the shower.

LD:  Mom.  That face soap?  Woah.

Me:  Oh, yeah?

LD:  Yeah.  You know how when you get a brand new piece of, like, Extra spearmint gum?  And you put it in your mouth and it is really strong and your whole mouth is tingly?

Me:  Yeah?

LD:  That’s what the face soap feels like.  On my face.

Me:  Hmmm.  Well, that’s how you know it is working.

LD:  Got it.

***

David will literally not stop getting hay.  And I find this to be quite ironic because he also won’t stop talking about how this is such a bad year for hay.  But he is never here, and every time I look outside, there are more hay bales all about.

And then there are two more just thrown about by the garden?

Apparently, he is buying a lot of last year’s hay?  Which is not good in the category of nutrition?  So he is also buying other things to supplement?

I don’t know.  All I know is he is not here and I am spending a lot of time with the boys.

A Lot.

And I would like you all to know that LD found it supes important to ask me this question as we were walking into church.

LD:  Mom?  Do some boys go through poooooooberty when they are 20 years old?

?

Hazel has a bump on her head.  I consulted a farm and ranch friend and she suggested it was something called a “warble?”  And I liked that answer better than “a terminal cancerous tumor.”

She thinks I need to pop it, like a zit?

I know.

More disgusting, this could not be.  I have decided this shall be a husband/wife activity, yet I cannot pop the warble with my husband because, and you had better sit down for this, he is getting hay.

Because there is a giant hay shortage, and he cannot find any hay, yet he is always getting hay.

The boys have created a new activity for themselves on this here farm.

It is called:  Fill a “clean” stock tank with water, sit in it, and throw golf  balls into red buckets and drive the dogs insane.

I am ok with it because it gets them , and the dogs, out of the house.

Norman, who is HD’s dog, learned how to swim this weekend, yet I did not get any photographic evidence.  So you will just have to take my word for it.  Niko and Charlie are still learning.  Hadley was trying to teach Charlie how to swim, but it was all too much for her, bless her heart.  Then Hadley lifted her out of the water and Charlie’s leg’s continued to “air swim” and we are just not sure she was meant for the water.

Norman is becoming a bit more attached to HD, which rocks HD’s world.  HD was climbing a ladder, and Norman went up after him.

My cute niece was helping get him down.

We like our dogs.

Yes, we do.

I am reading “These is My Words” yet again.  A reader recommended that book to me and I just love it.  It makes me happy.  I really like when the main character says things like,

“I was purely addled.”

And then I like to say things like,

“When LD asks me about 20 year olds going into puberty, I feel purely addled.”

I am getting excited to get back into the classroom.  I am still wondering if I will teach kinder or 2nd.  Either one is fine, but I am kind of hoping for kinderbabies.

Happy Sunday!

We went to the river this weekend and brought along Hadley’s boyfriend, Kason.  Kason is all about fishing, therefore, Hadley is now all about fishing.

First-let’s look at this photo from probably about 2005.

I have probably shared this before?  I don’t know.  Anyways.  Hadley is on the left, then David, then Kate.

Kate had caught her first fish and when they got home, she heard David tell me to get a camera.  She screamed, “WAIT!” and ran upstairs and changed into her favorite Cinderelle dress.  She was very dirty and it was hilarious and one of my favorite pictures.

So, we got to camp, and right away Hadley and Kason had to go fishing.

The next day, we went floating and more fishing happened.

Hadley caught a trout that she had to release, but they wanted a picture first.

Then the fishie decided to release himself.

LD caught a fish and David caught a fish, but HD had not yet caught a fish.  So, LD, being the loving  brother that he is, decided to taunt HD about his lack of fishing skills.  Right when HD caught his first fish of the day.

HD is on the left, LD the right.  I guess HD makes LD take his fish off the line for him?  Not sure what that is all about?  All of the fish were thrown back.

Anyways.  It was fun and a relaxing break for David, as he is deep in the throes of hay gathering.

Check out this video of Charlie trying to swim-

We have discussed it and have decided that Charlie is not aware that she can use her back legs when swimming.

Happy Sunday!

Saturday was cow butchering day, and every cow butchering day makes me think that is it the Lord’s will for me to become a vegetarian.

On the Friday night before, David and a couple of kids were doing some sorting to make sure things would go smoothly the next morning. The cow to be butchered was put in a pen nearer the bull, yet not with the bull.

Whenever the bull is around his *ahem*, lady friends, he acts all sorts of ridiculous. He truly should be embarrassed.  It’s almost as if he is yodeling of his love to them.  And I wonder if it impresses the old gals? They certainly don’t look enchanted. He was acting in such a way and that prompted one of my children to say this sentence to David:

Child:  Dad?  Is that cow hot?

David:  Huh?

Child:  The cow.  We are about to butcher.  Is she hot?

David:  I don’t understand.

Child:  You know.  Does the bull want to . . .

David:  Oh!  You mean is she in “heat?”

Child:  Yeah.  Same thing.

Anywho.  Doomed cow was what we in the biz like to call, “open,” which means she was not with child.  Which is exactly how I want her to be on the eve of cow butchering day.

Then it was the  butchering time and I had to avoid looking out any window and listen to the dogs bark/howl because they knew David was being way more fun outside than I was being inside.  I tend do a lot of dusting and laundry.  Very lame.

Because of the hot-high-heat, David wanted to skedaddle on to town to get the cow to her final resting place and didn’t have time to adequately clean up the place.

So this is what Norman looked like all morning.

Please be jealous of my life.

David came home and tidied up but left bloody paw prints on the porch and I was all no-nonsense-y and INSISTED they get cleaned up before we went to the river.

And they did.  And to the river we went.

It is all we ever do now.  Go to the river and kayak on the river.  In the hot-hot-sun.

Kate fancied taking Niko with her.

Niko enjoyed his float for exactly 2 minutes and 37 seconds.  He then cried the rest of the time.

We don’t have cell service while camping, and this has never happened before, but while we were on the river some texts came through on my phone.

?

And one was from a neighbor letting me know that some of my cows were out.

!

So we hustled and bustled and started for home and as soon as we got into service, David’s phone literally blew up with 17 text messages and 4 voicemails regarding our cows and their grand adventure.

Reader.

Our ENTIRE herd had gotten out.  The ENTIRE herd.  And our neighbors worked tirelessly to gather and corral and herd them back for us.  While we were sitting in kayaks on a river, oblivious.

We came home, embarassed and grateful, to cows behind our fence and many, MANY, many cow patties in our driveway.

Me:  Well.  Now that I know a bunch of neighbors were here, I am surely glad you washed off the bloody paw prints off of our porch.

Everyone was hot and tired and fussy.  Our utility trailer had a blow out and it doesn’t even phase us anymore.  David and HD set to trying to repair the gate that had loosed and released the ENTIRE herd.  I went out with a notebook to take cow inventory to see if I could figure out if anyone was missing.  And I checked and consulted with records and am happy to report that I am 92% sure we have everyone.  Then I made Tater Tot Taco Salad and all was ok again.

You may say:  Taylor!  What is this Tater Tot Taco Salad you speak of?

Well.  A long time ago, when I was a newly wed, I used to read Taste of Home magazines.  We were poor and I was a terrible cook and we didn’t have four ravenous children, such as we do now.

I used to love reading the entries in the Taste of Home magazine.  They would highlight a recipe and include a delightful anectdote from someone named Ethel in Kentucky.

“Every time I make this hamburger casserole, my  husband and boys ask for seconds.  Sometimes thirds!”

“My homemade lasagna is all the talk at the church potluck.  I always make sure to have copies of the recipe on hand to pass out!”

And I would sit and stare at this magazine and wonder what it would be like to be so confident in my meals that I would intentionally bring recipe cards assuming all the peoples would want to cook just like me.  And what would it be like to be a wife and mother so cherished that her hamburger casserole was taken two or three times by her loved ones?

One day, I came across a recipe from some lovely gal named Eleanor, entitled “Tater Tot Taco Salad.”  And I made it and it was loved, but I will never, ever, bring to a potluck with recipe cards.  Because that seems presumptuous.

Because it has been so hot, the cows are all fighting over the water trough and the little ones don’t always get water when they want it.  The mama cows are totes selfish and will drink water first and not care if a little baby wants a sip.  The babies are all still nursing, so I am thinking they are still getting enough fluids.

But not my Hazel.

So, now I give her a water bottle or a bottle of water with a small amount of milk powder in it.  And I am happy to report that she absolutely loves me again and tried to nurse from my shorts.

So all is happy in my world.

And in case you were wondering about cow inventory:

1 (yodeling) bull

24 cows

19 calves

1 steer for meat (sad)

And lastly, but not leastly, here is a cute picture of Maisy’s calf.

Her tail looks like that because she was passing gas.

Happy Tuesday!