The Lumberjack's Wife

Me:  David!  What is Charlie carrying around?

David:  That would be an esophagus from a steer I recently butchered.

Me:  Sweet.

***

Alright!  Let’s move on!

Yesterday was an exciting day of basketball in the Maliblahblah world.

First, the girls played together in a Varsity game and each scored 14 points, making the paper, and making all grandparents beam rainbows of pride and joy.

HD, who is a tiny, infant baby boy, was asked to play up on his school’s junior varsity team.  I was able to watch his game, donning a mask, of course, and at first it looked like they were going to get their hineys kicked.

They were down by 10.  And then they started to come back.  And here is a moment where there was a steal and a pass to my tiny baby boy, who in turn, made a layup whilst playing with highschoolers.

And then they tied!  And they went into overtime!  And then they won!

***

We had a horrendous wind storm last night.  It knocked out power to many, including the kids’ school, so school was canceled for them, causing much joy and celebration.

Until our own power went out.

What do you mean the WIFI doesn’t work?

What do you mean I can’t take a shower?

When Kate heard there was no school, she excitedly asked if her boyfriend could come over and if everyone could go on a hike.

?

LD:  KATE.  Look outside.  Trees are falling down.  Do you really think that would be a good plan?

Plus the highway was shut down from downed power lines and going anywhere was a not safe plan.  And isn’t it sad that LD had to be Kate’s voice of reason?

The boys decided to be best friends and pull out every game and puzzle we own.  Which was fine, but loud.  And then they tried to convince me we had to drive to get fast food, and I was like,

“Sorry kids.  I can cook some grub up over the wood stove.”

Because I am no fun.

It looks gross, but it was actually good.  Shredded beef and refried beans for like a taco meat type of thing.  Only too bad for me because then I had tons of dishes and no water, because we have a well with a water pump that requires electricity.

I was so desperate, I sent the kids to the creek to get water so we could boil it on the wood stove and wash dishes.

I wish I was kidding.

I took a hard look at my circumstances, found out Ma and Pa had power, and drove to their house.  And I am blogging to you from the comfort of their powered home and free flowing water.

Later, Dudes.

David got home from work last night at 4:30, and he, LD, HD, and I set out to wrangle the two orphan calves.

I fear I shall fail to convey to you just how challenging this ordeal was.

First, it is dark.  Like way bad dark.  And the cow pen covers about 15 acres.

Second, we have one stellar flashlight and one mediocore flashlight and that is all.  And isn’t it weird that our flashlight supply is so poor, given our lifestyle?  I shall try and remedy that for the future.

Third, the cows do not like us and wish us to not be near them.

Fourth, David is the only one who can manage roping a calf, and he has definitely not won any contests.  But please be aware that I could absolutely do no better and without him, these calves would not ever be caught.

We head out there.  First we must find the orphan calves.  I announce that the orphans are numbers 209 and 210 and every five minutes, one of the males I am related to would shout:

“I see calf 203!  Is that one we need?”

And I would, once again, shout:

“209! 210!”

209 was the calf I was most concerned about.  She was younger and smaller and didn’t look as hearty as her other orphan friend.

About a half hour into our adventure, David announced, and I quote:

“Yeah.  I don’t think this is going to work.”

And I counter-announced, and I quote:

“Well, we are just going to have to make it work.”

Look at me with my old-woman-sassy-pants on!

So, we try and fail and try and fail and try and fail, until finally, David ropes the back legs of precious little 209.

And I did the only thing I could think of:  I plopped right on top of her.  Because there was no way I was letting her escape.

We drag her a great distance to the pig pen where we try and offer a bottle.  She will have none of it and we all agree to let her calm down and go back and try and find 210.

You may ask, “Taylor!  Where are your girls?”

Well, Reader.  They are never here.  They have what one might call “lives” and we are lucky to be graced with their presence.

So, David and the boys and I go back out. for calf 210  And my patience with HD is running thin, Reader.

Running THIN.

Because he will not shut up.  And our plan is to be calm and quiet and he likes to shout pointless statements like:

“MOM.  This is dumb.  If the calf needed milk it would be dead already.”

“Mom.  We don’t need to do this.”

“Mom.  This is dumb.”

“Mom.  I am leaving.”

And I was like:

“For the love of everything-STOP TALKING.”

HD and I were paired up and LD and David were paired up.  At one time I could see David’s flashlight go all wack-a-doodle and knew that he had fallen.  While I was struggling and trying to see if he was ok, HD casually mentioned:

“Mom.  Dead cow.”

And I did not pay attention to him, because I was worried about David.  Because if David goes down, what hope have we?  I ask?

And then I feel myself stumble and start to go down.  I shine my flashlight and am face to face with-

The cow who died on Wednesday.

Not to be confused with-

The cow who died on Tuesday.

Because who has time to bury their dead these days?  Not us.

So, I scream and everyone is concerned and then we go back to finding 2-1-0.

David finally ropes him and 210 throws a gigantor fit and I just want him to know that we are simply trying to keep him alive.  And we drag him to the pig pen with his new pal, 209, and we try to bottle feed him.

And no one wants anything to do with any bottle.

So around 7:30 we came in for dinner, happy we had corraled the two calves, but worried that they had not yet eaten.

Earlier, I had listed the orphans for sale and David’s phone was blowing off the hook with people who want bottle calves.

Bottle calves.  Who knew?!

Saturday Morning.

Saturday Morning was steer butchering day.

Yuck.

David told me he would help me try and feed the orphans before we took the butchered steer to town.  So, I made a bottle and we went out there.

These calves act like we are serial killers.  I kid you not.

Poor David.  He has been up since the crack of dawn, butchering a steer all on his own, and now he has to try and wrangle a calf.  And they are not tiny babies.  They are big and fierce and I would like the records to show that calf 2-1-0 kicked me in the ankle and I not have a bruise.

We got 209 wrangled. And after about 10 minutes, something magical happened:

Is that not the most precious thing?

Only too bad for me, because David had about seven people in line to buy our orphans.

Me:  David!  Can I keep the heifer?!?!

David:  Maybe if no one wants her.

Me:  But, David!  I would feed her and love her and we could keep her forever!

David:  She would die and you would be upset.

Me:  I know.  BUT maybe not for a long time!  Please?  Please?  Please?

The first person to come bought her.  I shall now pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

This life is hard.  But here is what I know:

David is teaching us about perserverance and hard work.  I feel thankful for what my kids are learning.  Even though I wanted to raise that precious bottle calf for my very own.

***

We got an Abbie update from New Family.

They still love her and all is well.  Here is a pictue of her resting after a walk with her new Dad.  Not surprsingly, she has become smitten with the Dad of the family, just lilke she became smitten with David in our family.

When we got home today, we were greeted with a surprise from a long time reader of this blog.  Pati had this lovely canvas of Abbie made for us:

HD got really sad about her last night.  We talked about how new family loves her and she is doing well.

We will hang it in the house and it will remind us of how much we loved her.

What a hard year it has been.

Happy Saturday.

For about 95% of our married lives, David and I have had a wood stove.  And I have two opinions about wood stoves:

1.  I hate them.
2. I love them.

Oh, they are so high maintenance, what with your felling and chopping of trees, and gathering of wood, loading the wood box, keeping the fire going, cleaning up wood chips, and so on.

But they heat the house unlike any other heat source.  And it is helpful in case the power goes out.

We had the same style of wood stove for years and I was a pro at it.  But then David decided on a whim to switch it out with a different wood stove.

The new wood stove has not one, but three dampers, as if it could not be more full of itself.

Anyways.  If you are home all day and keeping the fire going, the house can get a bit too warm, so you want to close the dampers to slow down the burn.  I was doing just that when I forgot that David’s stupid new wood stove’s dampers are hot to touch, even though they are not supposed to be.

So.  I burned my pointer finger and thumb.

Yes.  Let’s pause for a minute so you can feel badly for me.

DO YOU SEE THE LITERAL BURN MARKS ON MY POOR FINGER?

5 seconds after I burned my fingers, David called me.

Me (acting like my world was ending):  Hello?

David:  What’s up with you?

Me:  I burned my fingers on that stupid new wood stove you put in.  I forgot the damper gets hot to touch.

David:  Well, there should be gloves somewhere down there.

Helpful.

Anyways!  I stuck my hand in ice water for about a half of an hour and it totally helped.

So, there you go.  A little helpful nugget for you.

Also.  Let us compare David and my personalities:

David falls off a ladder at work.  Breaks ribs.  Tells no one.  Keeps working.

Taylor burns her finger.  Feels really badly for herself.  Tells everyone.

***

Let’s talk about calves.

So, we knew that two calves were orphaned, but we currently have seven total calves out in the main pen.  Each calf has a tag in its ear with a number. And because we have other full time jobs, we do not have extensive records on which cow belongs to and so on and so forth.  And we don’t have a squeeze chute, if you even know what that means, and we have no way of tagging the mothers and yada yada yada, just trust me.  We mean well, but we are not the A Team over here.

And the calf I had FF wrangle was NOT the orphan calf.  Bummer.  So we let that one back out and we had to try and figure out who was who.

I spent what daylight I had yesterday after teaching writing down calf numbers and which mother I believed they belonged to until I could figure out who the two orphans were.

Ladies and Gentlemen.  I would like to present to you . . .

The Orphans.

The one on the left is a heifer and she is younger than the other one.  She is handling her life situation much more calmly than her pal over there to the right.

Pal on the right is a castrated male and he cries all the time for his mother.  And he goes to her dead body and stands there and cries, as if the world isn’t full of enough sadness and woe.

Today, I checked on all calves again.  We were kind of hoping one of the nursing mothers would adopt the orphans, but we have no evidence to prove that is happening.  So we have a two step action plan that we are putting into place.

1.  Corral them up and bottle feed them.
2. List them for sale so we don’t have to bottle feed them for long.

The problem is these two are strong and wild.  I don’t really know how we are going to get them to take a bottle.  It will be an adventure.

Me to calves:  Listen. I have what you want.  Milk!  But you have to let me come near you!  I am on your team!

Calves run away, mooing, acting like I am Godzilla.

***

I am happy to report that the puppy brothers have a very healthy self esteem and imagine themselves to be fierce, herding dogs, as evidenced here in this video:

Boy.

The horse and cows sure look intimidated.

Happy Friday!

I am sitting here with dried cow poop and mud on my pants and I am too tired to care about changing them.

The last 48 hours have been less than ideal, Reader.

First of all, my car broke down on my way home from school Monday night.  I was able to get it home with David’s help.  Then my husband, who is all that is man, loaded the car onto a trailer and towed it to the mechanic.

Thankfully, his truck was all done at the mechanic just in time to take my car to the mechanic.

Yesterday, I was able to work from home.  I absolutely LOVE working from home.  I love teaching.  I love seeing my animals.  I love not driving.  I find it all to be quite pleasant.

Yesterday, I was teaching and began to notice that it seemed like one calf was mooing quite a bit.  I finished up the school day and started watching the calf.  After awhile, it became apparent that the calf was mooing for his mother and the mother was not coming, which is odd.

So, I went outside to try and find the cow.  Bummer for me is that I fell painting the inside of my house a few days ago and hurt my knee.  Again.  We are not surprised.  The knee gets worse and worse each day, so I wasn’t planning on going on a walk to give it a rest.  But, I went to find the cow, because knee pain or no, Teller does not leave a calf alone mooing for his mama.

And I found the cow.

And she was dead.

Why?  I don’t know.  But she was dead, dead, dead.  And the calf would not stop mooing.  And it made me sad, sad, sad.

This is one of the cows that David bought at auction that calved earlier than we had expected her to.  So, David and I were calculating and figured the calf was only about 6 weeks old at the most.  David, LD, and I, went out when David and LD got home to try and wrangle the orphan calf so we could bottle feed him.

You know what is tricky?

Finding black cows in the dark.

And we have three calves that look pretty similar right now, so we were having trouble figuring out which one was the orphan.

Meanwhile, we noticed a cow on the ground that would not stand up, so we shifted our attention to her.  This cow was another one that came from the same auction.  We tried everything we could to get her up, but she could not stand.  So, we covered her in a bunch of hay for warmth and decided to check her in the morning.

She was still alive in the morning, but she looked much worse.  David went off to work and I got the kids off to school and started working.  Meanwhile, I called the vet, per David’s instructions, to see if I could go and pick up a steroid shot.  We had a cow down about a year and a half ago, and this vet let us pick up a steroid shot and it saved her.

Vet:  We are not able to give you a shot without a doctor examining the cow.

Me:  Ok.

Vet:  And we cannot get anyone out to you today.  Do you want to try for an appointment tomorrow?

Me:  Well.  I don’t think she will be alive tomorrow.

A bit later, the vet called back to say they could send a vet out on their lunch break and charge us for a farm call.  I said that was fine, but I wanted them to not leave until I called around lunch time to confirm the cow was still alive.

Now, it was 8:50am.  I am supposed to start live teaching at 9am, and I felt overwhelmingly stressed out.  I had no idea what to do.  I had a hard time imaginging myself teaching from my living room while looking out the window at a cow who was dying and her baby mooing right by her.

Yes.  That’s right.  We now had two babies without mothers.

So, I cried.  Naturally.  And then I texted a few neighbors and Farrier Friend for advice.  And then I taught first grade for a little bit.  And Farrier Friend called and said he would come and help me, so I asked a team teacher to cover my class for the rest of the day.

Farrier Friend (FF) came and we turned the cow.  This is the point in the day where I became covered in a mud/poo mixture.  Cows are heavy, and I deserve ice cream for using all those muscles to move that big cow.

Let the records show:  FF did 90% of the work and I contributed 10%.  But ice cream for me!

FF told me to cancel the vet.  He said the vet would only give me a big bill and the cow would die anyways.

Bummer.

Next, FF and I decided to wrangle the orphan calves.  And please understand that FF does all the work and I stand there and ask him if he wants me to do anything.  The calf of the cow that was already dead looked pretty big and was eating hay.  We decided to let him be and watch him.  I told Luis to rope a calf that I was 75% sure was the dying cow’s baby.  And he did.  And we led her to a pig pen so I could bottle feed her later.

Next FF told me he wanted to move the dying cow up to drier ground with his tractor.  While he went home to get his tractor, I was keeping an eye on the sickly cow and noticed a smaller calf hanging out by her.  And now I think the calf I had FF wrangle was the wrong calf.  Which was a gross errror on my part.

Before FF left, he told me the cow seemed pretty cold.  This bothered me as I feel like being cold and helpless is a colossal bummer, so I decided I should go out there and put blankets on her.  Because . . . ?  I don’t know.

I text David:  FF says the cow is cold.  I want to put blankets on her.  Would that be silly?

David:  Yes

So she did not receive blankets.  I probably should have done it anyways, huh?

FF comes back with his tractor.  This was all sorts of stressful for me to watch and involved chains and a cow flinging about high in the air.  He got her to drier ground and gave her an antibiotic.  Then he went to get some hay to put around her.  While I hung out with the cow.

And she died.  She just died.  Right when we were about to save her.

Dead.

So, I thanked FF profusely and then FF took his tractor and went home.  I went inside and made a bottle and walked out to my calf friend who we had stuck in a pig pen.

Calf friend is terrified of me and I wish I could tell her I am nice and want to be her friend..  I could not get her to let me even approach her with the bottle.  She kept slamming into the fencing and I saw blood on her mouth, so I called it quits.  I will wait for David.

But I also think I have the wrong calf.  But if I have a calf whose mother is alive, shouldn’t the mother be mooing for her and mad at me?  But then I see that tiny baby calf who I saw earlier walking around mooing and all alone and shouldn’t that calf have a mother?

I am all sorts of stressed out over here.

Oh!  And good news!

The puppy brothers have discovered the cows.  And what fun for them!  And they want to herd them!  And the mud is deeper than they are tall!

I am fit to be tied.  I have poop on my pants and it is not even mine.  I have a bottle full of milk replacer on the counter and no baby to feed it to.  I have three crazy dogs running all around the house, herding cats, because I won’t let them bother the cows.  My knee hurts something fierce and I think I am just going to cry and get in the hot tub now.

Happy Wednesday.

The puppy brothers bring us endless amounts of entertainment.

Their newest trick:  running up to the loft, yet not knowing how to get back down.  Just like a kitten in a tree.

So they stand here and look at us and cry.

It is very cute.  Charlie, their big sister dog, goes up there and leads them back down.

***

Well.  It happened.

A child of mine turned 18.

My precious nieces, who love to bake, baked her this lovely red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

If you were to ask David what my “dream” birthday dessert would be, he would have not one clue.

But if you were to ask precious nieces (and I do ask them, because I hope they will help David out), they reply:

Brooke’s Best Bombshell Brownies topped with sliced fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

I cannot wait!

I hope David hires them to prepare it!  It will make turning 40 seem not so bad.

***

We need to talk about a steer.

This steer, in particular:

He is awful.

David likes to have all steers of a certain age and girth seperated off the main herd so they can be “finished off” with grain.  Don’t ask me why, I don’t make the rules.

Awful Steer jumped the corral as soon as David and the boys placed him there.

I don’t like Awful Steer.  He is wild.  Plus he has horns.

Awful Steer escaped the corral a few weeks ago and we have tried a few times, unsuccessfully, to reunite him again with the other steers who must be “finished off.”

We would go out there, try to sort him off the herd, he would run away, we would give up.

Repeat.

This weekend, David became bound and determined to get him in.  We tried yesterday a couple of times with just the boys and failed miserably.  We came inside, all gruff with each other, with wet pants and broken dreams.

Today, we involved the girls.  Plus Hadley’s friend, Lily.

Lily:  Mrs. Taylor.  Can I stay the night?

Me:  Sure.  But there will be none of this lazy sleeping until 9am business and everyone will help David corral a steer.

Lily:  Deal!

The whole ordeal took about an hour and a half.  To move one creature into one pen.  Awful Steer is just awful, so we had a plan to just try and get most of the herd into the corral and hope Awful Steer would follow.

We were all armed with sticks and large pieces of conduit.

We had to have a Come to Jesus meeting beforehand and I had to lay the ground rules.

And the most important rule:

“No one will call anyone an idiot when a cow gets by them.”

Not that anyone in this family would ever call anyone an idiot while working cattle.

David doesn’t like to listen to me.  And he should.  Because I am the brains of this marriage, I tell ya.  I have always advocated for the use of cell phones during cattle sorting, and he will hear none of it.  Instead, he chooses to yell and get too far away and no one can hear and then get frustrated.

As luck would have it, right off the bat, we failed miserably and sent all cattle running in the complete opposite direction.  I have no idea where everyone else was, but I stayed at my post.  Because I am obedient.  And then all the cows started coming back to the main area, but David was nowhere to be seen.  So I called him.  AND HE ANSWERED.  And I told him to come back.

It was Hadley and Lily.  They saved the day.  They caught the wayward cows and sent them back where they needed to be.  And I called David.  And no one yelled.  Happy endings.

We regrouped and David gave everyone a position.

Kate and I were together on one end.

Isn’t she cute?

And I would like everyone to know we rocked it and did not let any cows get past us.

Once we got all the cows in the corral, we had to sort again and get everyone out but Awful Steer and the bull.

This took a great deal of time, seeing as how Awful Steer wanted to kill each and everyone of us.

Me:  David!  Can we just shoot him?

David:  He’s not ready!  He needs to be finished up with grain!

Me:  All in favor of shooting this steer now and being done?

Kate, Hadley, Lily, HD, and LD:  AYE!

Stand down, Readers!  After dealing with Awful Steer for an hour and a half, you would vote for shooting him, too.

We got him and the bull sorted off and no one had to use a firearm.

Lily: Mrs. Taylor.  I love doing chores at your house.

Before I go, I shall leave you with this picture of a charolaise steer being “finished off.”

He is much chiller than Awful Steer.

Also, he has a rooster friend who hangs out on his back most of the day.

School starts back up tomorrow!  Ready or not!

Last Saturday was yet another fun edition of:

Steer Butchering Saturday.

Which is obviously my most favorite day.

We abide by a rule that states we only go to town once if we can help it at all.  So we had to combine steer butchering day/Christmas at Ma and Pa’s.

David and the boys were busy unloading the beef and they needed some extra muscle.  David did not ask Kate or I.  Because all he needed was Hadley.

She is freakishly strong.

We were of course being super rude and running late to Mother’s Christmas Dinner.

And then I saw David’s pants.

Me:  David!  There is steer flesh on your pants!

David:  It’s fine.

Luckily, he had thought to bring a change of clothes.

And Auntie Datenut made us all masks:

She is sew thoughtful.

(Do you get it?)

Auntie Datenut is not in the picture.  But Aunt Candi is.  So there you go.

***

On one of my delightful walks with dogs, Charlie found the leg of the aforementioned steer.

And played “keep away” with the puppy brothers.

Basically living their best lives.

We pass this lovely memento daily on our walks:

It makes my heart happy.

***

Mom:  Taylor!  I need you to get a present ready!

Me:  What?

Mom: I bought these frames of pictures with the girls and PopPop, but the pictures are too big for the frame.  Can you help?

Me:  Well, just trim them.

Mom:  I don’t know how.

Me:  Just take the paper behind the frame, place it on the picture, and cut around it.

Mom:  Yeah, I can’t.  You need to.  You are a teacher.

Me:  Yes.  Because cutting pictures to size requires a teaching degree.

I don’t have a picture of the actual frames, but here are the pictures:

Kate is on the left.  Hadley is on the right.

Kate turns 18 tomorrow, if you can believe such a thing.

Guess what we are going to attempt to do this year to celebrate?

Hopefully ‘Rona will permit it.

***

It has been snowing all day.  Thankfully, none of my driving teens needed to drive anywhere today.

I started doing some touch up paint around the house and I would like everyone and their mothers to know that I hate painting.

I was being all no-nonsene-ish and told the kids the dogs had to be outside or in kennels.  Because Norman the puppy grabbed a stir stick that I had used to mix paint and ran around with it, thankful I got him a new toy.

And what fun!  And paint!

At one point, the boys went outside to ride four wheelers and the dogs went outside with them.  When they returned, only Norman and Charlie were with them and Niko, the other puppy, was missing.

Well, the snow is currently deeper than Niko is tall, and Niko is still a precious baby.  We called and called for him, but he did not come.

So all the kids and I went out to search for him.  And he was nowhere.

We searched the house and all outbuildings.  We walked all around our property that he has been.  We looked for at least a half hour and I was sure he was dead.  It was so awful.

I had been watching him pounce around in the snow with Charlie earlier, having a blast, but noticing that he was definitely sinking easily into the snow.  I was sure he was stuck somewhere and freezing to death.

He weighs like 8 pounds, people.

Finally, HD walked through the large round hay bales and noticed Niko seeking shelter on the ground under the large pile.  It was such a relief.

And I could stop panicking that Kate’s puppy died on her 18th birthday eve.  And I am done with animal sadness for the year.  Thank you.

The snow is still coming down.

When David got home, he and the boys set out to start plowing.  LD was running a four wheeler with a plow.

And for reasons unbeknownst to all parties involved he headed for the woods to start plowing.

?

And then got the four wheeler stuck.

?

Me:  Why are you plowing in the woods?  We need to plow the driveway.

LD:  Well, excuse  ME for trying to do something KIND.

?

The four wheeler is unstuck.  The driveway is plowed.  The dogs are all safe.

And this is the last night I will have all four of my kids be under 18.

Happy Wednesday!

David surprised me with two lovely chairs for our deck for Christmas, and now my cow viewing experience will now be on a whole other level.

We had a lovely Christmas morning.  Kate opened a family gift sent to us by my parents and Sisters Meagan and Jess.

Which made everyone cry, but HD would like the records to show that he and his father did not cry, so please make sure you understand that the two of them were touched, but too manly to cry.

We will put on his burial spot.

I got each canine friend a new squeaky toy and the three dogs were over the moon excited, leaping and squeaking over piles of wrapping paper and they surely had the most joy out of everyone on Christmas Day.

Kate (surrounded by animals):  We literally live the best life ever.

We like our animals.

After the presents and shenanigans, David and the boys went out to try and take care of that pesky tree problem.

I was quite impressed that he did not destroy any buildings or fencing.  (He had removed the fencing panels where the tree fell)

Good.

Job.

David.

I watched from my lovely deck and also took the time to snap a festive photo of Matilda-

who no longer appears to be limping.

On Christmas Night, it started snowing, so that sort of counted as a White Christmas.

This morning I took Charlie and the puppy brothers on a walk to try and wear the puppy brothers out:

It worked.

They were exhausted.

They listened well and found a dead mouse and did not chase any cows.

Speaking of cows, look at these two cuties-

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas with your families.  We are now switching gears to try and get ready for Kate’s upcoming 18th birthday.

Finally, here is a picture David took across the river from our river property.

Cannot wait to get back there.

Happy Saturday!

Sometimes when we watch the kids’ games via the livestream, there are announcers at their games.  And it is all quite impressive.  And I would like the records to show that the announcers, who do not know who we are, were able to correctly pronounce our last name.  However, they did pronounce Hadley’s name as:  HOD-ley.  And that was something.

Let’s talk about HODley for a minute.

I got off the phone with the important insurance man and he told me we needed to send him the title of her car.

Me:  Hadley, I need the title of your car.

Hadley:  Ok, what’s that.

Me:  The super important piece of paper that shows you own the car.

Hadley:  No idea.  Probably in my glove box.

Me:  HADLEY!  You NEVER keep a title in your glovebox!

Hadley:  Gosh, geez, I don’t know, gosh.  I am only sixteen!

So sheand I hop in the car and drive one hour to the mechanic to go and try to rescue her title before the insurance company tows it away.  On December 23rd.

We get to the car and she pulls everything out of the glove box, only to find there is no title.  Only an application for a title.

Reader.  I did not go to the DMV with her last year.  David did.

Me:  HADLEY.  Did you and dad ever send this off?

Hadley:  Gosh, geez, I don’t know.

So, there is helpful phone number and we are put on hold for the state DMV’s office and we became annoyed when we were told by a robot that there were 5 people ahead of us, and then the robot updated us and said there were 4 people ahead of us, and then that robot had the audacity to cheerfully tell us there were 9 people ahead of us.

We did not care for her math.

And then we talked to a helpful lady and she did a lot of typing on a keyboard and informed us that the title was most assuredly sent and Hadley would need to apply for a duplicate and we have to go into the dmv to do that.  And does anyone else in the world loathe having to actually go to the DMV?  Or is it just people who live around me?  Because that place is not running like a well-oiled machine.

Me:  Oh, gosh.  Is there anyway do take care of this online?

Helpful Lady:  Oh, honey, it would take far too long.  You need to go to your DMV office.

So I look up the number of my local DMV office and find that we have two locations in our county.  One is closed for reasons the internet will not even mention to me.  The other appears open and has a working telephone number.  But when you call the telephone number, you talk to a robot man who says the office is open but too busy to take my call.  And I am not happy with the robots who work at my state’s DMV, because, seriously.

So, we drive to the DMV and there are signs posted that say, “Appointment only” and we try to make an appointment on our phones, but we keep being told we cannot.  So, I walk in and talk to a human.  She is also nice, but regrets to inform me that they are currently out 45 days for appointments.  And the appointment maker app won’t even operate that far out.

Me to David:  I have no idea where her title is.

David:  I rememer it coming in the mail.  And I said to her, “Hadley.  This is important.  Keep is safe.”

Hadley:  Geez, gosh, I didn’t know.

***

Meanwhile, today is Christmas Eve and I fear David is not as jolly as everyone else’s husbands are on a day such as today.

A few days ago this happened:

And today is the first day that David had off to deal with it.

We are having a bit of vehicular woes.  Allow me to walk you through them.

Hadley’s car:  totaled

David’s truck:  broke down, at mechanic

Kate’s car:  in town with her at work

Bobcat:  NEVER functioning properly

My car:  fine

Spare Subaru:  fine, but has a bit of a flat tire.

Work Van:  ONLY FOR DAVID AND WORK

Ok.  So David needed to use the Bobcat, but to use the Bobcat, he needed to jump the battery and to jump the battery, he needed my car.

*I think*

Let the records show:  this story is being told to you by me who has yet to actually get information from David and saw the events unfold from the comfort of her living room window.

When he was using my car to start up the Bobcat, something broke.  I wanna say it was a battery line or cable, but really, what do I know?

So he came inside to tell Hadley that he needed her to take the Subaru to town and get a part for my car.

Hadley:  Um.  I left my keys in Lily’s car in town.

This was not the correct answer, Reader.

So, I start to get ready and try to offer to David that I can take his work van to town and get the part for the SUV and the keys for the Subaru.

David comes in.  He does not appear merry like Santa Claus.  Unfortunately.

David:  I think I have the SUV working well enough to drive it to town and get the part.  The boys are NOT ALLOWED to step foot into this house until they have shown you four red hoses that are about 18 inches long.  If they tell you they have to go to the bathroom, you will hand them toilet paper and send them back outside.  Here are my workvan keys in case I break down and I need you to come and get me.

Me:  Ok, are you going to get the Subaru keys while in town?

David:  No, that is Hadley’s problem.

*sigh*

Off he tootles to town.  The tree is still in a precarious spot and my boys are trying to find red hoses.

And I am so fearful that it is going to fall on my lovely deck because that would not be a Christmas miracle, friends.

So, I check on the boys.  Their spirits are good given the current situation.

Me:  So.  You got some red hoses for me?

LD:  Yeah, yeah, we are working on it.

Me:  What happened?

LD:  I dropped them and they fell in the Bobcat.  It was an accident.

HD:  LD dropped them.  I have found two.  He is lucky to have me.

Me:  Well, hopefully you don’t have to go to the bathroom anytime soon.

And then I see one of the infamous red hoses, and my whole world has opened up.  Because apparently people use the word “hose” for items other than garden hoses.  Because when I saw LD holding one, I would have classified it as a “tube-thingie.”

You learn something new everyday.

Meanwhile, HODley and I were wrapping presents and cleaning the house.  Charlie was taking her puppy brothers all around the property and showing them how to cause general mischief.  I am a good grandma to my grandpups, and I ushered the puppy brothers inside and fed them and told them to take a nap.

I am a wise grandmother.

Here’s what I know:

1.  My car is fixed.
2. The subaru keys are still in town.
3. David started trying to get the bobcat to run around 8am for tree removal.
4. At 2pm David told me the Bobcat was finally running, yet I do not see anything happening to that tree.
5. The boys must have found the missing tube-thingies because they got to use the bathroom AND eat lunch.
6.  We do not have a title for Hadley’s car, nor do we have an appontment to get a duplicate title for Hadley’s car.

Merry Christmas!