The Lumberjack's Wife

The Lumberjack and I met in high school.  He was one year ahead of me.  We went to school together for almost 2 years without even talking to each other.

Actually, he said he would get nervous trying to talk to me because he thought I looked too much like my younger sister, and could never remember which one of us was which.

I don’t know on what planet my sister and I would be indistinguishable.

I am clearly the larger model rocking the spiral perm.

I will bet you one whole dollar that my sis and I were performing the beloved duet, “Heart and Soul.”

Did anyone else ever play that duet continuously?

But, I digress.

About two weeks after he graduated, the Lumberjack called me and asked me out on a date.

Now at this point in time, I would have never called him the Lumberjack.

Instead, I would have referred to him as Mr. Sensitive-Guy-who-really-liked-me-and-shopping-at-the-Gap-and-who-once-visited-a-tanning-booth-and-even-highlighted-his-hair-upon-occasion.

My, how times have changed.

He still likes me, I guess, but we can just throw the sensitive guy, the shopping guy,the tanning parts, the hair parts, and most certainly, the Gap guy parts out the window.

We are certain to never see that man again.

Farewell, Mr. Sensitive-Guy-who-really-liked-me-and-shopping-at-the-Gap-and-who-once-visited-a-tanning-booth-and-even-highlighted-his-hair-upon-occasion.

Fare.

Thee.

Well.

However, for the purposes of this story, we will simply call him Mr. Gap.

Now, I must give you a little history:

On the day of Mr. Gap’s graduation, I was visiting my friend who lives up in the mountains.  As I was leaving, my car’s brakes stopped working.

This was unfortunate because

A)  Brakes are usually considered an asset

B)  She lives on a MOUNTAIN

C) I was going downhill

D)  Her driveway gets somewhat curvy.

I was 17 and sure I was about to die.

Nothing was working.

I put the car in park.

Nothing.

I slammed on the brakes 2.4 million times.

Nothing.

I screamed.

Nothing.

I honked.

Nothing.

I considered pulling the emergency brake.  But I had an unhealthy fear of emergency brakes.  You see, when I was a child, I asked my dad what an emergency brake was for. 

“Well, it is the most powerful and strongest brake ever.  We hardly EVER use it.”

So, as I am charging down the mountain driveway at 35 mph, I consider pulling the emergency brake.

But my dad’s words came back to haunt me.

I did not pull that emergency brake.

For if I did, I was certain to be ejected from the car, merely from the sheer force and strength of that powerful emergency brake.

Instead, I found it more suitable to flip my car.

Interruption:  Is that not the most terrible picture quality ever? I seriously need help.

I have a Nikon D40 and sometimes when it is on automatic mode, it just will not take a picture.

It is a stubborn beast.

If I put it on manual mode, it takes a picture, but I don’t know how to focus it.

Please.

Help me.

So, there I was:  hanging from my seatbelt.

Glass was shattered all underneath me.

I did, however, save the card.

I began screaming and honking my horn.

My friend’s neighbor came to my rescue.

He walked up to my door.

“Hello!” I said. “Can you help me?  I seem to have flipped my car.”

And he laughed at me.

And then he got me out.

But the car was totalled.

But I still made it to Mr. Gap’s graduation, so I could give him a card and hope he would think I looked cute, despite the large bruises on my knee and forehead.

I was that dedicated.

And thus concludes my little story of what happened on Mr. Gap’s graduation day.

Fast forward two weeks:  Mr. Gap asks me out.

He asks me to go to lunch on a Saturday at noon.

A few minutes before he came, my dad told me he was taking me car shopping.

I responded very snootily, and informed him that I would be busy all afternoon, for I had a date.

In retrospect, this was dumb because

A)  MY DAD WANTED TO BUY ME A NEW CAR

B)  I am sure Mr. Gap could have taken me to dinner instead

C) MY DAD WANTED TO BUY ME A NEW CAR

So, Mr. Gap picks me up.

As we drive away, he says:

“I was hoping to go to this sandwich shop downtown.  My parents gave me a coupon!”

This was my first glimpse into the frugal lives of my crazykin in-laws.

We arrive at the restaurant.

I am extremely nervous.

You see, once my friend had found out that I had a lunch date, she made me go through rigorous date-eating etiquette lessons.

Apparently, I always grossed all my friends out because whenever I would eat, I would talk too much.

Also, things like pizza sauce and cream cheese would squirt through my teeth.

Yes, ladies and gents.

That’s right.

I was quite the find for Mr. Gap.

As we were eating, I dared him to eat a pepperoncine.

I should have known this would not go well, since he had already removed every vegetable and suspicious-looking sauce from his sandwich.

Picky pants.

He tried the hot pepper.

Then he began to spit out the pepper all over our table.

And guzzle water.

And spit.

And cough.

And spit.

And I never again worried about my eating etiquette.

For he, my dear friends, was a super gross eater.

So, we finished up and got in the car.

I thought it was going well.

We were chatting happily.

And then he pulled up to my house.

“Well, bye!”

I was disappointed.

He did not like me.

Maybe mustard squirted through my teeth.

I got into the house at 12:56.

My sister: “Why are you here?  Didn’t you have a date?”

Me:  “Yes.  All done now!”

My sister: “Ha!  Obviously that did not go well!”

Me:  “Okay, Dad!  I am ready to go car shopping now!”

My dad (in a very snooty voice): “Sorry.  I made plans.”

Well, I don’t want to leave you all hanging, but Mr. Gap called me up and asked me out again.

I asked him later why he took me home so early.

His response?

“I only asked you out for lunch!  I don’t know what else I am supposed to do with you!?”

We might need to change his name to Mr. Romantic.

***

He proposed on our 1 year dating anniversary.

We were married 1 year after that.

We keep popping out kids, and for the life of us, we cannot figure out why.

We have bought and fixed up two homes.

We are about to buy our first home on land.

And, this year, we are celebrating our 10 year anniversary.

The End.

Item #1

First of all, I would like to apologize for the craziness that was Tuesday.

Yes.

I admit it.

I posted 3 times in one day.

I was completely and utterly out of control.

I will try to not let it happen again.

Thank you.

***

Item #2

I think I confused the majority of my 12.3 readers when I posted my parkour jokes.

Remember?

Parkour!

Parkour!

Anyone?  Anyone?

Adrienne and Mindy got my back!

Holla, Adrienne!

Holla, Mindy!

Raise your hand if you still don’t understand what Holla means.

Well, I give up.

I have attempted to explain it too many times.

Parkour was from The Office and I found it to be quite hilarious.

Quite.

So hilarious, in fact, that I shamelessly stole it for my blog.

And it backfired on me because no one got it.

Just like no one gets “holla.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_mpNUl3swk]

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can tell me what on earth a “half-gainer” is.

Oh, what’s that?

You didn’t click on the link that I painstakingly provided for you?

Yes, that’s right, people.

I know only 8% of you click on the links that I so lovingly supply.

I am on to your shenanigans.

Parkour!

***

Item #3

I fear we have been seeing Lisa and Sweet Baby a little too much this week.

Handsome Dude has not stopped nursing his sister’s doll all week.

We are so very proud.

*gasp!*

I do not have a picture.

But I will not rest until I get one, I can promise you that.

***

Item #4

I am ready to speak a little on the issues that brought me much worry and antsiness earlier this week.

Back in February, right before we left for Cancun, we decided that we would start looking for a new house.

Our house is getting just a little too small and my husband would really like acreage.

So, we looked and found nothing.

Then we looked again, and again, we found nothing.

Then I told my husband that i just wanted to stay in the cute house that he has been building to my specific tastes for the past 7 years.

But then, he found . . . The House.

I told him I would not even look at The House, seeing as how it was at least 30 minutes away from everything civilized and proper for a lady, such as myself.

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . keep up, people!):  Let’s just look at it.

Me:  Why?  Waste of time.

LJ:  Humor me.

Interruption:  I hate when he says “humor me.”  It always means he will win.

Me:  Okay, but for the record, I will not live in ________. (Ha!  I will not tell you where it is.  We will call it “Ruralville.”)

LJ:  Fine, Taylor

Me:  I mean it.  I won’t live there.

LJ:  Okay, Taylor

So, we filled the rig with gas, packed snacks and water, loaded the car with entertainment for the children, checked the oil, charged the battery, washed the rig, packed extra clothes, gathered the emergency flares, and prepared ourselves for the mini-car trip to:

Ruralville.

And wouldn’t you know it, we absolutely LOVED the house.

It has 5 bedrooms people!

And central vac.

Fact:  I am uncertain as to how this “central vac” business works, but I am excited for it nevertheless.

It also has a huge shop and is on 20 acres.

With lots and lots and lots of trees to be felled.

I told LJ I would not live in Ruralville.

But gosh darn it, somehow he talked me into making an offer.

Darn him and his swooning.

So we made an offer 2 days before Cancun.

And since it was a “short sale” (don’t ask, I am an idiot on these matters.  If you must know, I suggest you contact your favorite realtor), we did not find out until mid-March that the bank accepted a different offer.

LJ was devastated.

A couple of weeks later, our realtor called and said the first offer people were having trouble getting their paperwork in.

LJ was thrilled!

He started tractor shopping on craigslist and made big plans for our lives out in Ruralville.

Then on April 2nd, we found out that the bank was definitely still going with the other folk.

Poor LJ.

Goodbye, tractor.

Goodbye, trees-that-need-to-be-felled.

Goodbye, Ruralville.

So, our realtor talked us into looking for more houses.

After every house we saw, LJ would sigh and say,

“It is nothing compared to the place in Ruralville.”

Then, it happened.

8 days ago, our Realtor called and said the deal fell through and we could make another offer.

And we have been waiting and waiting and waiting.

But we found out yesterday that our offer was accepted.

Attention Mr. Lumberjack:

You may resume your tractor shopping.

So, we are probably Ruralville-bound unless something goes wrong with our inspection or well report.

Yes, that’s right.

We are going to have a well.

How has this happened to me?

I’ve been a good girl.

I’ll tell you this right now . . . the day I see a bear is the day we are moving back to civilization.

I find bears attacking my children to be completely unacceptable.

No matter how many acres we can get.

So, we won’t move until July-ish.

But, we are most likely moving to Ruralville.

That is, of course, if our WELL is ok.

A well.

Honestly.

***

Item #5

I have been contemplating the notion of creating another “Fun with Adjectives” post.

Are you excited?

But, I need some fun adjectives.

This is where you come in.

Tell me an adjective I should use .

I will totes gives you a shout out if you do.

Come on.

Humor me.

So . . . life has seemed a little uncertain and scary in different ways lately.

But since I last posted, I am feeling much better.

Thank you for all of your kind comments and ideas!

Soon after I posted, my sister-in-law, Lisa, called me up and asked if we should go on a walk.

She arrived at my house soon after with Little Miss and Sweet Baby.

I really like holding Sweet Baby.

How can anyone feel antsy while holding that precious bundle of joy?

So, Lisa and her girls,  and I and the dudes headed out for a delightful walk.

I live right downtown in our . . . town.

Attention all peoples who know where I live:  Dudes!  I am trying to keep this information on the down low. 

I can, and will edit comments that give away any information hinting towards my whereabouts.

Consider yourselves warned.

I got to be sneaky-sneaky.

So, we walked around, stopped at the park, got our favorite coffee drink at an undisclosed popular local coffee hotspot, and went to a random, yet delightful jewelery store where I bought not one . . .

but two of these necklaces.

One for me . . . and one for my super cool hip friend Shelly, whose birthday is today.

Everyone please shout,

“Happy Birthday, Shelly!”

at your computer.

Thank you.

Lisa and the girls headed home and Daisy Mae came home from kindergarten.

Daisy Mae pleaded for a picnic . . . and I decided that sounded like a grand idea.

The weather has been delightful here in our super top-secret location that none of you should know about.

Little Dude is always excited for food.

Just like his mama.

Daisy Mae packed the picnic all by herself.

I had actually forgotten that my dear friend, Amanda, had given her that sweet picnic basket for her birthday one year.

It will be a sad, mournful day when my girls no longer enjoy tea parties and picnic.

Check out Handsome Dude.

He insists on opening his own string cheese.

It never quite works out for him.

Look at my little daredevil!

Parkour!

Parkour!

Parkour!

Parkour!

Safe Parkour.

For baby.

(I am going to need a 10-4 Good Buddy from anyone who gets my Parkour jokes. Thank you.)

Any-who . . . today has been pleasant, amidst the chaos of our lives.

Sweet Pea left me these “flowers” and a note:

“To Mom, I love you. this is for you.  pleses send a note back.”

Rest assured, I sent her a note back.

I have hundreds of loads of laundry to whip out.

But, alas!

My washer and dryer are in my dining room!

My Lumberjack, however, will be pulling out his big guns and moving them back into the laundry room tonight.

Holla, Lumberjack!

Holla!

With all my leisurely activities today, I have completely forgotten to do anything about dinner.

Since my kitchen looks like this:

I am trying to come up with easy meals that I can just throw in the oven at dinner time or put in the slow cooker all day.

Because it is really hectic to try to cook in that kitchen, while rearing the children, while my husband is nailing and sawing and painting and hammering.

But, not today.

Nothing in the crockpot.

Nothing planned out.

Lucky for me, I have a husband who could care less if I said,

“Oatmeal for dinner tonight!”

Alright . . . that’s all I got for now.

Have a lovely afternoon!