The Lumberjack's Wife

My goodness!  I am flattered by all the compliments on my arrow sign.  You shouldn’t have!  And yes, it is darling, thank you for noticing.

I took HD in to the eye glass clinic.

*sigh*

I don’t know if you have been keeping up with the saga that is HD’s glasses this year, but let me tell you, it has surely been a treat.

The puppy has eaten them three times since February, and a more “with it” parent, I could not be.

Anyways, I made him just live with the chewed up lenses because the puppy got to the lenses in June (I think) and I knew he would have a prescription change in August.  And I was correct.

So, we went to the eye glass clinic and I searched for Bob.  You remember Bob, right?  Sure you do.

Bob was not there.

A nice lady helped us.  She was kind and seemed to throw no shade at me or my son and our failures as eye glass customers.

HD, who suffers from, “I am in middle school and awkward and I am way too embarrassed to talk to adults in public”-itis, started whispering to me that the strap was wrong.

Nice Lady overheard:  Is there a problem?

Me:  Oh.  Well, he doesn’t care for the strap that came with these glasses and last year, Bob-um does Bob still work here?

Nice Lady:  Yes!  He is just on vacation.

Me:  Oh, good.  Well, Bob found him a smaller strap from a different pair of glasses, but the puppy ate that and I think HD was hoping for something similar, if possible.

Nice Lady:  Understandable!  Let us just leave a little note here for Bob and we will have him look into it when he returns.

Me:  Thank you!  Yes, Bob is great.  He has been helping HD since he was six months old.

Nice Lady:  Yes, I have heard Bob speak of this fine young man.

Well, what?!  Score.  And I thought for a moment that nice lady could be Mrs. Bob, on account of how accommodating she was, but then I thought, Nah, she would probably be on vacation with him if that were so.

Let the records show:  We are fans of Bob.  And now, Mrs. Bob.  Who is most assuredly, not Mrs. Bob.

***

The other night, I declared myself “done” for the night and made David in charge on account of being over it and feeling stressed about the upcoming school year.

What IS going to happen with school?  Do you know?  I don’t.

I informed David he was in charge.  Love doing that.  I am sure he loves it, too.

David (shouting at LD):  Dude!  Get outside!  Your lambs are loose and the puppy is chasing them all around the property!

I enjoyed not caring about the ordeal.

***

The boys and I distracted Mama Kitty with a hearty helping of kibble and a bowl of water.  Then HD lifted the couch so we could see the new baby kittens.  We found five, but one was oh-so-dead, so we have four kittens living under the couch.

And are we surprised that something has died here on this property?  No.  No, we are not.

***

Speaking of death, remember the two weaner pigs that were left and David wanted to house them with the giant, horrific pigs?

Well, one of them died soon after we moved them to live with the lambs.  We don’t know why.  Just walked out there, and there it was:  dead.

Shocking.

Its companion pig was not looking good for a long time.  But it stayed with the lambs and I would visit him/her daily.  I am not interested in this pig enough to genderify it yet.

Hadley has a friend named Lily.  Lily is often here and she is always uber respectful to me, so I torture the poor girl and have her do things for me because I know she won’t give me attitude.

Me:  Lily, go take these food scraps and give them to the dying pig.

Lily:  What, huh?

Me:  Please feed these to the baby pig who is about to die.

Lily:  How do I know which one is the dying pig?

Me:  Go out there.  Find the lambs.  There should be a sickly looking pig living with them.

Lily:  Got it, Mrs. Taylor!

She calls me Mrs. Taylor.  An upstanding young woman.

I am pleased to report that sickly pig is on the up and up!  He/She is now running all around and weaving in and out of the lamb pen, the steer pen, and the giant/horrific pig pen.  A lot more energy, a lot more spunk.

If I name it or determine its gender, it will most assuredly die, so we will hold off on that for now.

***

Yes!  Reader Lisa got it correct.

You have to add the “k” to panic when adding -ing because it will turn the C into soft c.  Soft C makes the s sound.

The “c” says “s” before e,i, and y.

And don’t say I never taught you anything.

***

The Money Piece.

This is not a naughty thing, so keep your minds out of the gutter please.

Haircut Lisa and I decided that I should not do any color near my roots because, well, she knows me and she knows I am going to start teaching soon, and we all know when Taylor teaches that is ALL she can handle.  So, who knows when I will be in again, and we cannot have nasty root growth, you know?

So she did a technique called “balayage” and then added “the money piece.”

I think it is just a couple of pieces around your face to highlight/frame your face?  I don’t know.  I live on a farm.  I had to take a selfie for you to see it and I really dislike taking selfies.

The only person in my family who likes my hair is Little Dude.

#winning

The other night, David’s mother calls him.  She is a nice woman.  We all love and cherish her.  She is not overbearing by any means, nor does she call too often.  She is a peach!

We give her two thumbs up!

Anyways, sometimes she chats a bit.  And David isn’t super chatty.  And would you like to know what he did?

I will tell you.

He put her on speaker phone and then looked at Craigslist’s Farm and Garden section while she prattled on.  Occasionally, he would say,

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“Oh, yeah?”

So, naturally, I started beating him with a pillow and mouth-yelled at him that he was being a rude son to his nice mother.  Because she is nice.

Hadley:  What’s the big deal, Mom?  Sometimes you talk too much and I get bored and look at Instagram.

For shame.

I suppose David’s shenanigans are an upgrade from the days of yore.  He went through a darling phase where he would just hand the phone to me and leave while his mother was in the middle of a story.  And when she would pause and wait for his obligatory, “mmm-hmmm,” I would have to sheepishly say,

“Oh, Hi!  It’s Taylor now.  David had to go.”

Which was not rude or awkward on our part AT ALL.

***

I feel like I did not get enough commendations and/or applause for my new arrow sign.  So, then I thought to myself,

“Taylor.  Maybe the people don’t fully understand the coolness of your new arrow sign?”

So, I am giving you another chance.

Look at my arrow sign:

Do you see how there is a cow hanging off of it?

I CAN CHANGE THAT.  IT DOESN’T ALWAYS HAVE TO BE A COW.  It could be a pig or a chicken.  Or not an animal at all, like a sign or maybe something that is Merry Christmas-y in nature.

Hadley:  Why is that there?

Me:  For decoration.

Hadley:  But, why?

Me:  Because I like it.

Hadley:  But why would you buy it?

***

I now think Miss America is a fine mother, one worthy of praise.  Sam is a darling.  Here he is tucked underneath her safely as she feasts.

Can we not all agree that he is precious?

***

Can we not all agree that we have no idea what school is going to look like this year?

***

Mama Kitty had kittens again.  And I had a couple hours of doubting her and her mothering.  Kind of like I doubted Miss America, which is strange because it’s not like I am over here winning any “Mothering Awards.”

I decided to try and find her yesterday morning, and I could not.  This is not extremely rare, as she is a cat and does what she wishes.  I went down to our storage room, where I keep the litter box and food and such, and as I was leaving, I heard a faint meowing.

!

I had to search high and low and even get out a ladder AND a flashlight.  And you would not believe how hard it is to locate a working flashlight WITH batteries in this house.  It is a disgrace, honestly.

So I found those kittens, who were unreachable.  And I left and panicked, because Mama was nowhere to be found.  I even called David.

Me:  David!  Did you watch the kitten video?

David:  Yup.

Me:  Are kittens falling down in there?  Are they stuck in the walls?  IS MAMA STUCK IN THE WALLS?

David:  Don’t think so.

So, we hang up, and I try not to panic, but I am panicking.  And do you know why I have to add a “K” to the end of panic when I am adding the -ing ending?  I do.  Because I teach foundational skills reading.  But that’s off topic.

So, I check again and not only are those kittens still in that high space, I find one tucked into insulation.  Like so:

And I saved it.  And I tried to find Mama, but I could not and there was like surround sound meowing all around me.  So I put the insulation kitten in a basket with a towel in the same room as the others, hoping Mama will return.

Me:  David!  I found another kitten!

David:  Good job.

Me:  It still has part of the umbilical cord attached.  And I am thinking I need you to stop by North 40 and look for kitten bottles and formula!

David:  Well, calm down.  Mama is probably still birthing.

Me:  Oh, right.

David:  How many litters of babies has she had?

Me:  Lots.  You are right she is a good Mama.

So, I try to chill and go about my day.  When out of nowhere, Mama just walks up to me and is like, “Oh, hello, I have had a busy morning and may I have some food and water?”

And I scooped her up and loved her and apologized for doubting her mothering skills.

Mama is like a Ninja cat.  Somehow she managed to get all of her kittens out of the storage room, upstairs to the main floor right past humans, 4 dogs, and 2 other cats, and sneak her litter under the couch in the loft.  And I have no idea how many she has, but I love her and I am so glad she is in charge and not I.

***

I got my hair done by Haircut Lisa today.  I decided to add color for the first time in many years.  Also, I would like to report/gloat that I still don’t have gray hair.

Anyways, she did a technique called “Balayage” and added some highlights around my face and told me they were called “The Money Piece.”

And she and I decided that someone like me definitely needs hair called “The Money Piece” to impress the kittens she is searching for.

I don’t have time to do anymore pictures!  I am supposed to be making dinner.

FOR MY FAMILY.

PS  Hadley just told me she thinks there are kittens stuck in the wall downstairs.

Super.

I am happy to report that Miss America might be a fit mother after all.  Sam is one week old today, and a more cuter calf he could not be.

She oft brings him to the feeders and water and he jumps and bucks and hops and is precious to my heart.  She keeps an eye on him and allows him to play with the elusive calves, who I believe I named Toby and Evie.  It is all very precious, very pleasant, very happy.

For we know this to be true: Taylor likes the cows.

In fact.  I have gotten a bit into finding new decor.  I like the farmhouse look, and then I was like, “Taylor!  What fun!  You have a farm and a house!”  So, I am going with it and I have discovered boxwood and life is happy.

I have also discovered something called The Arrow Sign.  I did not know such a thing existed.  Mother informed me that I can switch things out with it and it made me feel really excited and I think this is what it means to be almost 40?

I had David hang it for me and then I had to jump for glee.

Me:  David!  It is an ARROW SIGN.  And it is literally a cow pointing to our actual cows!  That’s where the cows are!

David:

Me:  Isn’t if cute?!

David:

Hadley:

Well, I like it.

Hay.  Hay is now on hold due to things I do not understand on other farmers’ ends.

Here is a picture of the hay field I had to drive my Infiniti with a utility trailer through.  I did not mess up once that I know of.

Parenting teens is not for the faint of heart.

A teen, who shall remain nameless, was supposed to be home at 10 and then negotiated to 10:15.  This poor teen’s parents are old and like to go to bed around 9:30 and wake up before 5am.

Teen was still not home after 11.

Mmmm-hmmmmm.

And it is a good thing these teens have ME because David is not capable of parenting after 9:30pm.

So I was trying to stay awake and wait for my wayward teen.  David is completely out.  Totally asleep.  I wake him to tell him something, because he is just as much this teen’s parent as I am.

I woke him once.  And gently.  And was talking in a nice, loving wife voice.  And would you like to know what he said?  In a not nice husband voice?

“If you wake me up again I will go sleep on the couch.”

I felt it was uncalled for.

In true David fashion, he does not remember these events at all.  Probably didn’t even know the teen came home late.  Maybe he didn’t even know the teen was out?  I cannot be certain.

But it did remind me of a lesson I learned early on in our marriage.

The lesson:  Do not ask David to help with ANYTHING after he has fallen asleep.

And here is how I learned that lesson:

When Kate as an infant, she didn’t sleep at night.  Story of all infants lives, right?  Well, we were 21 and 22 and new to this no sleep phenomenon and it was totally rocking my world.  So one night I had finally HAD IT.

Me:  I NEED TO SLEEP.  I need you to help.  I need you to take care of the crying child so I can sleep.

David:  You got it.

See how nice and agreeable he is when he is not insane?  Also, not sure how we were going to accomplish this as I was nursing Kate and we didn’t have bottles.  But again, I was 21.  David was 22, so he probably should have known better.

So the night comes.  And the baby wakes.  And I wake the sleeping David to tell him he is up.

And this was the night I learned that David was insane in the middle of the night.

His whole personality changes.  He sighs a lot and makes dramatic motions with his hands.  He also does weird grunting noises and talks in a very sassy voice.

So.  I could tell he was a bit off, which made me worry, which made me not sleep.  Which was the whole point of this adventure.

I heard noise.  I heard ruckus.  I had to investigate.

I found David lying on the couch, kind of holding a crying baby and humming.  He was definitely more asleep than she was.  I was afraid she would fall to the ground so I tried to take her.

This offended David who informed me that he had this under control.

Then he started to walk around with the crying baby, still humming.  And he ended up on the toilet.

The toilet was closed and he was fully dressed.  But he was humming.

And then he got annoyed at me because the whole point was for me to be asleep and if I was just going to be awake, he should go to bed.  And then I got annoyed at him because I hadn’t slept in like 47 days.

David (sassy): Bring me the superglue.

Me:  What!  Why?

David:  I am going to fix her.

So, I flip out again and he got annoyed again because there is no point in us both being awake.

So I *went to bed.*

After a bit of time, David came back to bed.  I was WIDE AWAKE.  Kate probably was, too.  David was not.

Me:  Where is she?

David:  Who?

Me:  THE BABY

David:  Oh, you know.

Me:  I don’t know.

David:  Yes.  You know.

Now he is all sorts of sassy and shifting all around the bed and pulling blankets all around and sighing.

Also, because we were 21 and 22, we had this plan called:  “Put the baby to sleep wherever she will sleep so we can try to sleep.”  This mean she sometimes slept in the crib, except she never really slept there.  Or the swing.  Or a bassinet.  Or wherever!

Me:  David!  I need to know where my baby is!

David:  She. Is. In. The. Thing.

Me:  What is the thing!?!

David (sassy sighing):  THE VENT

Well, there will be no sleeping for Taylor now and Taylor goes on a hunt to find the baby.

And if memory serves me correctly, she was in the crib.  Asleep.  A feat I was never able to accomplish.

And she didn’t even have superglue on her face.

Anyways.  That’s what happens when you try to involve David in the late hours of the night.

***

I took Kate and HD to the eye doctor today.  We have seen this doctor for about 9 years.  When they were giving HD his eye drops, the assistant made a remark.

Assistant:  I recall we used to have to have several of us hold you down for these appointments.  You sure have grown up!

*ah* Memories.  Also, LD used to shout out the answers to the poor not-so-great-at-seeing siblings and I would have to put my hand over his mouth for the entire appointment.

Let us be thankful and glad that LD is old enough to stay home for these sorts of things now.

I took the poor dilated children to-you guessed it!

Dutch Bros.

As we were waiting for our drinks, the barista gal said: “Oh I love your hair!  I love the way you curled it!”

So, I smiled and looked over at Kate, my cute 17 year old child.

But her hair WASN’T curled.

Barista and Friends started laughing at me.  And they were like, “Oh, who me?!” because I actually did that.  I totally did that.  I said, “Oh, who me?!” and it was pretty funny but it made me happy and then I went a bought another cow decoration.

BECAUSE I CAN.

Oh.  And to clear up confusion from my last post:

If you have a problem, yo, I’ll solve it.

Check out the hook while the DJ revolves it

Is lyrics from an actual song, not some weird secret language Hadley and I speak.

Does anyone know this song?

Hello?

I have a cute, green wire basket on my counter.  Its only purpose is to hold eggs.  My boys will never figure this out.  They bring eggs in and dump them on the couch, on the kitchen table, and on the mantel.

I do not know why it is so hard for them to put them in the basket.  Perhaps I never will.

Hay!

We are still getting hay.

Sometimes, when I am feeling feisty, I sing,

“Hay now, Hay now . . . Don’t DREAM it’s over!”

Because I am the light of my husband’s life.

Luckily, David got the Bobcat up and running, so everything is back in full swing.  David put together a hay party today.  He has his truck and goose neck, Big Tex.  His friend has his truck and goose neck.  And he has Hadley towing my car with the utility trailer.

I offered to, but he chose Hadley over me.  And Hadley’s friend, Lily, got roped into the deal as well.  So the two girls go off to the hay field, get 2 850 pound bales and bring them back.  I am wondering if this is an efficient use of gas?  I cannot be certain.  David and his friend, Luis, can each get 11-13 bales at a time.

LD is with Luis.  HD is at home with me.  His job is to quickly unload the bales off the trailers so the people can get right back in action.

My job is to fuel the people.  Apparently.

Hadley and Lily came and needed grilled cheese and chips.  Then they left, came back again and needed popsicles.  LD would like me to know I don’t understand how starving he is all the time, so I made him a black bean burger and kicked him back into play.  HD is so so so so so so starving and would like 3 eggs and 2 pieces of toast.

I feel like everyone thinks they are better than me.  Which is fine, and they probably are.  Hadley and Lily came back at one point and were rushing around the driveway.

Me:  Problem?

No response.

Me:  Is there a problem?

No response.

Me:  If you have a problem, yo!  I’ll solve it.

Hadley (without missing a beat):  Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it.

Hmmmm.  So she WAS listening to me.

And there was no problem.  She was just so so so so starving.

David is wondering if I could please have Luis over for dinner, to thank him for his help, and of course, I am A-OK with that.  And so, I am also preparing a dinner for an unknown amount of people at an unknown time.

And in between feeding people, I was looking at my calves and I recalled that I never named the elusive calves.  In the far left, there is a bull calf.  He belongs to Elusive with a Tag.  In the middle is Covey, who is Seattle’s calf and was named for Covid 19.  On the right is Elusive withOUT a tag’s heifer calf.

The bull calf will eventually become a steer and will eventually become someone’s sustenance.

The heifer calf and Covey will be cows who birth calves.  I need a name for the bull calf and the heifer calf.

I want the bull calf to be named something with a T so I can remember his mother is Elusive with a TAG.  I want the heifer to be named something with an E.

I am thinking Toby and Evie. Thoughts?  Ideas?  Suggestions?

Friends.

David has just called me.  Presumably from the hay field.

I’m up!

I am NEEDED.

Hadley and Lily want to go to town and do teenagerish things.  So now, I must drive my car with the trailer and get the hay bales to be my husband’s helpmeet.

I am now to be trusted.

I will also still need to make dinner for everyone.

I also asked him how much longer and I am pretty sure we will be hauling hay until 9pm.

Later, Gators.

I don’t think Miss America is a very good mother.

There.

I said it.

She is never with her calf.  Yesterday, I went to check on them and found the calf laying in some brush.  She was probably about 150 feet away eating.  She didn’t even care that I walked up to him.  I checked again a few hours later and she was all the way at the house eating and the calf was in the same exact spot.

It is not very odd for the mamas to leave their babies and go and get a drink or a bite to eat.  But they usually employ a babysitter.

Cows are amazing, didn’t you know?  They babysit for each other and everything.

Well, Miss America didn’t even have a designated babysitter for Uncle Sam, who I think I will probably just call Sam.

So, I went and checked on him three times yesterday in all and he was in the same spot each time.  I decided to pet him and he let me and was very chill.  I was worried he wasn’t doing well or eating enough because I thought it was strange that he let me pet him and he wasn’t mooing or anything.  Out of nowhere he stood up, right under my legs, and I almost rode him, except he is so not big enough to ride.  And then he sauntered off.

But here is the photo I snapped of him before he left me:

Look at those eyes!

David is getting many large bales of hay.  I never see the guy anymore.

Me:  Alright.  How many more loads of hay are you needing to get?

David:  I think I am doing pretty good.

Me:  How many do you have left?

David:  Well from the guy who lives a bit farther away, I am buying 180 bales.  I can get 18 on a load.  I have gotten a couple loads.  From the guy who lives closer to us, I am buying 160 and I have gotten a couple loads.

Me:  Dude.  You will be getting hay until Labor Day.

The big bales are mucho large-o.  I think he said they weigh about 850 pounds each.  But these bales are much easier to manage because the farmer just loads them on his trailer with a machine and David or one of the boys can unload off the trailer with the Bobcat.  It takes a lot less muscle.

The small bales take a ton of muscle and are grueling.  Because they must be done without a machine.

Me:  I am making a decision.  No more small bales.  They are too hard on you and the boys.

David:  Nope.  What if the Bobcat breaks down?  I won’t be able to feed them.

Me:  Oh, pish posh.

So, last night, the Bobcat breaks down.  This is not rare and David is becoming very versed on Bobcat repair.  However, this breakdown has seemed to stump him.  In fact, I kind of think it has broken down multiple times over the past few days and he keeps trying to get it running again, only for it to break down again, and so on.

He got home from work a bit earlier than usual yesterday and worked on it, got it working, then left to get a load.  Got back and when they were unloading, it broke down.

Now, please remember, whenever the cows hear the Bobcat, they initiate the Cow Telephone System.  I spoke of that earlier.  So one cow sounds the alarm, and all other cows join in, and all cows come out of the woodwork, including Miss America who leaves Sam with no babysitter.

Because she is an unfit mother.

Then the Bobcat breaks down and yada yada yada, David is working on it and it starts and stops and starts and stops and the cows are basically flipping out.

David still wanted to get more hay, so he and the boys had to push the 850 pound bales off the trailer so he could go and get more.  So he got all the hay for the night and they pushed them off the trailer and Hadley brought him parts from town.  He was hoping to get it running after the parts were installed and feed the cows, who were oh so hungry.  Even though they eat all day.

It didn’t work.  Bobcat is still broke down.

Now, readers, we have a problem.  We need to feed them.  They are hungry and perturbed.  David is at work and the Bobcat is broke down in the driveway.

It is all up to me.

Except I don’t know how to do anything.  So, it is all up to the kids.  Kate was gone for her first day back to work after her surgery.  Hadley and the boys were home, but Hadley was going to leave in the late morning for work.  Hadley is freakishly strong so I knew she must be included.

So, we have many small bales, which weigh 60 pounds or so, but they are in the hay barn and the hay barn is not extremely accessible right now, on account of the 850 pound bales being pushed off a trailer in front of it.  We have a bulldozer, but it is currently at another location.

Here’s a bit of info on our personalities:

Me:  Not strong.  Not clever, but not completely idiotic and definitely showing improvement in that area.  Mostly worried about safety and feel like my role is to shush poor attitudes and name calling, and keep everyone alive.

Hadley:  Extremely strong, but gets easily irritated by HD’s attitude.  And if you worked with HD for any period of time, you would completely understand.

HD:  Second strongest, extremely gifted at running machinery, thinks just like David, is very clever, but knows he knows best and therefore makes everyone else feel inferior.  We are working on kindness.  Also, I tell him for every rude remark he owes me a whole dollar, and that usually nips it in the bud.

LD:  Strong, smart, but could not care less.  Would prefer to jump on hay bales with the puppy.  Like so:

Lest you are confused, he is walking on hay bales that were stacked before the Bobcat broke down.  If you look towards the right of the picture, you can see the hay bales that were pushed off.

So, HD started trying to push a hay bale with the four wheeler.  Hadley and I chucked a couple of small hay bales over the gate so the animals could start snacking.  It took many different tries and lots of muscles from HD, LD, and myself, but we started getting the big bales rolling towards the big gate.  Eventually HD figured out a good system and Hadley and he got the first big bale in:

While HD and Hadley were taking care of that, LD and I started discussing the beer grain situation.

David gets free beer grain and he had about 8 large trash cans full.  These are very heavy.  They were on our feed room porch, which is fairly low to the ground.

Usually, the boys shovel the beer grain into the Bobcat bucket and take the grain out to the bunk feeders.  But, alas.  The Bobcat is broken.

Another way we have done it is to load the trash cans into the four wheeler trailer, and tow it into the pen with the four wheeler and shovel it into the bunk feeder.  But, alas.  The four wheeler trailer is surrounded by heavy things that require the Bobcat to move so we can access it.  And, again.  The Bobcat is broken.

Me:  Why don’t you unhook the goose neck from the truck and back it up to the porch?

LD:  I could do that, but I think the truck is pretty high.  It will be hard to lift the barrels in.

Me:  Right.  Hmmm . . . then we will use the horse trailer.

LD:  Ok, I will get the truck.

Me:  No, just use my car so you don’t have to unhook the truck.

LD:  Seriously?

Me:  Seriously.

LD:  I don’t think it is strong enough.

Me:  It is.

(I do not actually know for sure.)

And yes, I have my middle school boys move vehicles around often.  Don’t you?

So, I go back to “helping” HD with the second big bale and LD goes off to hitch the horse trailer to my car.

In the far right, you can see LD driving my car to the horse trailer.  Also you can see our side door, which is now a lovely Sea Serpentish color.  I am not sure if I mentioned to you all that I found a great color for my house?

Next, Hadley, HD, and I go and join LD.  HD is the most skilled at all the things, so he backed the trailer up to the feed room porch.  We loaded the grain in the horse trailer.

HD and LD were discussing the situation as real men should.

LD:  I am not sure you are going to get this thing up over the hill.

HD:  I know, and it is raining a bit.  We might get stuck in the mud.

LD:  Yeah.  I don’t know.

HD:  Well, we have to try.  I will put her in tow mode and four wheel drive.

(I didn’t really know my car had tow mode.  But he did)

They got the trailer pulled in and filled the first feeder.  My job was to keep cows and horses away from them and take pictures.

HD took the trailer around to the next bunk feeder.

My kids are literal beasts.

Look at HD’s face as he tries to help lift the bottom of the barrel.

So, we did it.  We saved the day.

Next, HD and I decided we would go and check on Sam.  He was in a completely different area, so that is probably good news.  Once again, his mother was nowhere to be found and, once again, she did not hire a babysitter.

You would not believe how soft and precious baby calves are.

HD lifted the tail and we can confirm with 100% certainty that Sam is a boy.

Here is proof that the horses rule the show out there:

We have two bunk feeders.  The horses have claimed the one to the right and the cows all must try and share the one on the left.  When the horses tire of their feeder on the right, they will go and chase the cows away from the feeder on the left.  And the cows let them.  They let the horses be the boss of them.

Happy Thursday!

Today was just plain lovely.  Brunch and pedicures with two of my teacher gal pals.

It looks like we all got the same color, but they were all three different.  It was fun and swell and a nice distraction from all the:

“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING TO HAPPEN THIS YEAR WITH SCHOOL? ” discussions.

Speaking of school:  What in the world IS going to happen?

Hmmm.

David is still acquiring many large bales of hay.  He is gallivanting all around the countryside paying farmers many dollars and dumping giant bales in the front of our house.

Kate:  Mom.  Why does Dad dump everything in the front of the house?  Does he not understand curb appeal?

Me:  And this is how I know you are my child.

I do not usually join him on his hayventures.  I prefer to sit on the deck and snuggle with Rio.  Like so:

She might be the world’s most precious kitten. Please try to contain your envy.  She is all mine.

Our dog, Tank, is getting old.  He turned 12 in April.  He seems to not be doing so well as of late and we are all concerned about having to say goodbye soon.  Kate is very worried about saying goodbye.  Kate, who has been extra emotional since her surgery, was sure he was dying last night.  She was sobbing and petting him and he wasn’t moving.  So she had me come and check it out and I said he looked ok, and then he started acting more like himself.  He does this funny thing where if you stop petting him, he puts his paw on you.  So, he started doing that, which made Kate feel better, and then she laughed at herself for thinking he was dying.  But it will be hard to let him go.

Here is a picture of Tank and I in April on his 12th birthday:

We love him.  Even if he has terrible gas.

Alright!  Home Improvement Updates:

I did nothing today.  I had brunch and a pedicure.  David does not care one bit about what I do with the painting, I think he mostly likes it if I take care of it and leave him be so he can go on the aforementioned hay gallivanting trips.

I was asked what colors I used on the coop:

Blue:  Sherwin Williams Sea Serpent Blue

Door:  Behr Sage Gray

And the trim is just Behr ultra pure white.

I will now bedazzle you with my front door makeover:

Old Door

Improved Door:

I am Pro Sea Serpent Blue.

And now, for the best news of all.  One might say the only reason why I started writing this post, but I felt I needed to add some more meat to the blog post, so I talked your ear off about nothing.

I went on a walk today.  I now carry a stick because some of these Mama Cows are ridiculous and want me dead.  So I shall whack them on the nose if they try anything foolish.

I called David on my walk.

Me:  David!  What is the best news I could give you right now?

David:  Um . . . . you are no longer stressed about the upcoming school year?

Me:  Oh, no.  Couldn’t be more stressed.  Don’t know what to do.

David:  Um . . . .I don’t know.

Me:  Miss America has a calf!  And I am looking right at it!  And it is alive and black and I will try to get a picture, but Miss America wants to kill me, so I don’t know.

So that was my big reason for writing this here post.

This was the best I could do as far as a photo:

Is that not a terrible picture?  Allow me to help you.

On the right side, there is a large blackish area. That’s Miss America.  You can kind of see one of her ear tags.  Right under neath her and to the left is the baby.

Oh!  Let me try something:

Could we not be more impressed with me?  We could not.

I am 47% sure the calf is a boy.  I have named him Uncle Sam.  Because that’s how clever I am.

Later, Dudes.

On the morning of Kate’s surgery, it came to me.  A little voice.  It said:

Taylor.  Paint the chicken coop Sea Serpent Blue.

And I just could not ignore it.

And then the voice suggested I also paint the door of the coop Sage Gray, which was my most favoritest color at our rental house.  Here’s a picture of that gem of a color:

Anywho.  The boys were supposed to remove all decor off the coop and pressure wash the coop and then I would paint it.

So, I got home, got Kate all set up, and went outside in 103 degree heat to paint.  Because I am foolish.  Here is my before picture:

Ok.  The coop needs TLC in a big bad way.  And weeds are the bane of my existence.

So, I started to paint and realized there were literal chunks of mud on the coop. And the decor was not removed.  So I summoned my boys who had the audacity to lie to me about completing their chores,  and I informed them that they were going to get to bond with their mama and paint in the 103 degree weather at 2 in the afternoon.

Yes.  Sometimes my kids lie to me.

We removed decor and we painted blue.  We could not get one side of the coop because even though a voice told me to paint the chicken coop that morning, the voice forgot to remind me that one whole side of the coop was in a pen holding 22 gigantic pigs.  So we only painted three sides.

On Saturday, I touched up all the white on the three sides and painted the door.

On Sunday, I gave myself the day off from painting and cleaned the house for many hours instead.  And don’t let me ever tell me that I don’t matter around here because man oh man, if I take a few days off of housework, things look mighty dismal around here.

But, I digress.

Today.  Today, I had a plan.  And I needed help from three children.  Kate was excused because she is still recovering from her ordeal of being maybe murdered.

Hadley had to work and only had a bit of time to help me.  First, I started Hadley on touch up painting and the boys were tasked with moving all 22 pigs to a different pen.  This new pen would not have their water tanks, so I was wanting to get this job done quickly so the poor disgusting creatures would not die of thirst.  I despise the pigs, but I mean them no ill-will.

So, here is the coop with one side red and many pigs next to it.

It is hard to see.  But trust me.  Front is blue, side is red.

After the boys moved the pigs, HD was supposed to go and use the Bobcat to unload the trailer full of hay.

The astute reader might remember that I said David was finished getting SMALL bales of hay for the year.  Now, we must get LARGE bales of hay.

LD was in charge of removing the cattle panels that were stretched across the coop so Hadley and I could paint.  And then he had to completely tear apart a wooden feeder David had made that the disgusting pigs broke this weekend.  He had to use all of his muscles and he was very sweaty.

Painting on that side was nasty gross.  Very pig poopy and smelly.  Would not recommend doing that.

Hadley had to ditch me for work, and I finished painting blue and then the white.  The boys repaired the fence and the pigs returned and not one perished of thirst.

We accidentally spilled one of the waters and created a giant mud puddle.  But pigs are fans of mud, so it all worked out swimmingly.

I bought a new light fixture and am waiting for David to install it.  My cute hens and chicks sign was too warped to go back up.  I made that years ago with my sis-in-laws, Lisa and Amy.

The dudes helped me rehang the faux window.

HD was sad to see my chicks and hens signs go.  He wanted to keep the sign with the stenciled on hens.

HD:  Let’s put that above the fake window.

Me:  Maybe.  Or let’s put it on the back of the coop.

HD:  That’s dumb.  No one will see it.

Me:  I will see it when I am returning from my walks to check on the cows and it will make me happy.

HD:  Ok, I will go and get the drill.

He is very accommodating.

He may have been able to hang the new light fixture, but I have a poor understanding of how electricity works and was afeared that he would electrocute himself.

So wait for David it shall.

The chickens do not actually live here anymore.  It is an incredibly long story that involves David tearing down things and rebuilding things and things not being high enough and the chickens made themselves free range.  The weaner pigs have been living there since May, so it was definitely time for a freshen up.

David and the boys plan on rebuilding the fence so the chickens can come back . . . someday.

Chicken Coop.

Check.

You might recall that my 17 year old, Kate, got her wisdom teeth out yesterday.

We got home and she rested and felt much better.  And then, right before bedtime:

Kate:  Mom.  Apparently I sent a video to Hadley when you were in the store.

Me:  Oh, yeah?

Kate:  Yeah.  And I don’t even remember filming it.

Lest you are confused, Hadley is my 16 year old daughter.  She would have been at work at the time.

And now, with permission from the teens themselves, here is Kate’s video, followed by Hadley’s reaction.

I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard in my life.  And now, allow me to try and create a script for you, seeing as how Kate is so hard to understand.

For reference, this was right after the gauze fell out of her mouth (which she thought was her tongue) and when she discovered how bloody and scary she looked.

“Hadley, mom can’t know this, so you  be really quiet shh shh shh, but I think that people are going to think -ahhh-I’ve been murdered, cause there is blood all over my hands on my lip and I’m really scary.”

And once again, Hadley’s reaction to her:

Gold.

And I love that she thinks people in the WinCo parking lot are going to think a girl who is filming a video of herself was recently murdered.

Happy Saturday!