The Lumberjack's Wife

I had a lovely Mother’s Day this year.  The girls made me nice cards and the boys filled out little “questionnaires” about me for co op.  I wanted to share what the boys had to say.  (Their answers are in bold)

Handsome Dude:

My mom is 12 years old.

My mom weights 14 pounds. (Score!)

My mom’s favorite color is blue and orange. (Nope!)

My mom always says, “Be Quiet!” (Yup!)

My mom cooks the best chili.(It is Nalley, lest any of you are impressed.)

My mom’s job is to clear the dishes. (Surely I have a bigger purpose than this? 😉 )

My mom laughs when we do something funny.

If my mom had time, she would love to play sports with me.

My mom and I like to pet our cat.

My mom really loves cats.

I LOVE my mom because she feeds me. ( I try to feed him.  He is never satisfied.)

Little Dude:

My mom is 31 years old.  (Nailed it!)

My mom weighs 1 1/2 pounds. (hmmm  . . . )

My mom’s favorite color is  pink and purple. (Little Dude thinks all females love these colors only)

My mom’s favorite food is rice. (Not at all.  But I cook it often.  For it is cheap.)

My mom always says “Brush your teeth and go to bed!” (Bed time. ‘Tis glorious.)

My mom cooks the best cookies, brownies, and cakes.

My mom’s job is to cook food and fold laundry. (Pretty much.)

My mom laughs when I talk weird.

If my mom had time, she would love to go to the store for food. (Seriously.  The boys are always hungry.)

My mom and I like to read books and cook dinner. (This is true.  Little Dude loves to read books with me and always asks to help me cook dinner.)

My mom really loves me! (He’s right.)

I LOVE my mom because she reads books to me.

Aren’t my boys presh?

And “presh” is how cool people, such as myself, abbreviate “precious.”  FYI.

***

My Dad got me foil wrappers for Mother’s Day.

He finds himself to be quite the humorous fella.

***

I have some sad, sad, sad news.  Back in February, you might remember that our cat, Peter, went missing.

Well, we searched and searched and could not find him.

There is a room in our shop that we call the “school room.”  We called it thus because when I first started homeschooling, we did it there.   This lasted for maybe one month.  But it has always been called the school room since.

Not to be confused with the current school room that is inside our house.

Our poor children.  They never know which room I am talking about.

Moving on!

Last week during dinner David asked if I smelled something bad lately in the school room.  I agreed.  He said, and I quote,

“It is bad.  I think something is dead in there.”

And at first I had no idea what could be dead, but then I realized it was most likely Peter.  The cats spend a lot of time in the school room.  We keep their food and water there, as well as the litter box.  They go in and out of there often.

So, on Mother’s Day, we decided we had better figure out the smell.  And David found Peter in there.  I have no idea what happened.  He was not stuck or trapped, he was just under a table, but there were things surrounding it so we could not see him.  Every day after he went missing, we would call for him and he did not meow or anything.  So, he must have been sick or hurt.  I guess.

Handsome Dude and I were pretty bummed about it.  As you might notice from Handsome Dude’s Mother’s Day Questionnaire above, the boy loves the cats.

So, we dug a hole and he was buried.  I refused to look at him because . . . gross.  But we got a peony plant yesterday and planted it above the spot where we buried him.

So.  That’s what happened to Peter.  So sad.

David always brings me a cup of coffee in the morning before he leaves for work.

Isn’t he the nicest?

Anyways.  I subtly hinted one day that I would like him to do this by whining explaining that it is just so hard to get up and get a cup of coffee in the morning.  I want to wake up early and get things done, but the thought of actually walking to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee is more than my little soul can bear at such an hour.

Dramatic?  Not at all.

So, this morning around 5:45am,  he brought my coffee and off he went to work.  Before taking a sip, I decided to visit the bathroom.  And as a I looked out the window I saw the most horrendous site.

A pig was loose.

David was gone.  It was before 6am.  I have not had coffee.  I am in my jammies.

And a pig was loose.

So, I went outside-looking fantastic I might add.  Old jammie shorts and one of David’s old sweatshirts that has some sort of large game displayed on the front.  I am also donning my large muck boots because that is what they are for.

And I chased that pig.  He was naughty and ran all over the place.

I don’t like him.

I finally got him in after about 30 minutes and got to drink my coffee.  Chasing after pigs before 6am with no coffee is no good.  I do not recommend it.

***

I just have to share this cute little mistake Handsome Dude made in his lessons yesterday.

That says “nuts,” not “huts.”  He got a little carried away with his “n.”  I know it was “nuts” because “nuts” was in his little word bank.

Word bank!  My boy!  He is so learned!

Anyways.  I thought it was hilarious and he did not understand what was so funny.  And I am certainly not arming my boys with the information that there is a different meaning for “nuts,” other than peanuts and the like.  This is knowledge they need not know.  Because, have you met my boys?  Mmm-hmmm.

Happy Weekend!

For those of you who have been following along during our “pig journey,” I must update you that we now only have two pigs left.  We had seven, butchered three, bought three more, and have since butchered 4.  Actually, we don’t technically “butcher.”  We just perform the “kill.”  FYI.

Taylor’s blog.  Full of pleasantness and glad tidings.  Welcome!

Anyways.  As of Tuesday, we had three left.  One of the pigs was all fat and ready to go, so we declared Tuesday to be “the day.”  The people who are purchasing this certain pig want it to go to a butcher who requires the pigs be delivered live.  The other butchers have all wanted them dead, so this was our first experience taking a live pig to the butcher.

It was a family affair.  Contrary to popular belief, pigs are not as tame and friendly as one might imagine.

So.  David is in the pig pen.  AKA garden.  He has a pole of some sort and his job is to try and herd the pig out of the pen and into the temporary pen.  Handsome Dude is “helping” David. The girls are standing by holding the gates to ensure the pig follows the path to the temporary pen.  Little Dude, looking ever so stylish with his missing circle of hair, is being naughty and climbing on a gate.

Taylor is supposed to be helping her husband.  She is, instead, taking pictures.

You’re welcome.

I snapped this one last photo and then joined my beloved.  For those of you dying to know, yes.  I do have the same muck boots as my husband in the above photo.  They are a must for all activities involving swine.  I also grabbed a pole and we all worked as a team to get the pig to the temporary pen.

This took awhile.  Pigs are not concerned with making life easy for us.

Now it is time for the tricky part.  We do not have a horse trailer or any sort of animal-friendly trailer.

We do, however, have a utility trailer, extra sheets of plywood, a bucket, and one determined David with a “can-do” spirit.

David put a bucket over the pig’s head.  I forgot to ask him why.  So sorry.  But I would guess it would be to calm it down and make it go with David.

But really.  What do I know?

David then took the pigs tail and head and tried to force it up the inclined ramp, while we were holding sheets of plywood up as sort of “gates” or “sides.”

It was pretty tricky trying to hold up the plywood and take a picture, so this was the best I could do.

The astute reader might notice that the tail of the pig is at the wrong end at this point.  Obviously things were not going well at this particular moment in time.  However, David was able to get that 300 pound hog into the trailer.

Road trip!

So, we all loaded up and drove to town.  I felt pretty awesome when I looked at my capris, of which I had worn for the pig wrasslin ordeal, and noticed a brown mixture splattered all over them.

Was it mud?  Was it poop?

We may never know.

***

Sweet Pea was helping Little Dude with his Awana lesson yesterday.  She had to help him fill in some activities he would like to do over the summer.

His responses?

Ride bikes.

Feed the “trickens.”

Dig dirt.

Jump on the tramp-er-ine.

Go to the beach.

Water the “trickens.”

Catch rabbits.

Take a bath.

He’s going to be a busy, albeit clean, kid.

***

David did a little weekend shopping last Sunday.

Handsome Dude heard me talking to David on the phone about it.  When I hung up, he attacked me with excitement:

“When’s Dad bringing home the Black Cat, Mom? WHEN!?”

I think a “black cat” would have been a bit cheaper.

Happy Thursday!

I am having a day.

A “DAY,” I tell you.

Let us begin.  Because I am assuming you want to hear all about it.  Yes?

Yes.

Someone down the road has a dog.  This dog gets loose often and terrorizes my chickens, rabbits, and kitty cat.

He scares our cute kitty, Mr. Poppers, and makes him get stuck in the tree.  Of course, Mr. Poppers is too ignorant to climb down.  This causes my children to weep and wail for all the injustice in the world and “why can’t mom get the kitty down?”

The dog also eats our chickens and tries to eat the girls’ baby bunnies.

Me and this dog are going to get into a fight.

This dog has been coming around since November.  Now, I am not one to judge someone for their animals getting out.

I mean, I myself have been known to have my swine running down the road.

I shan’t not judge.

However.  This has been going on for months now and it is getting a tad old.

So, today we were trying to do our school work when Little Dude looked out the window and proclaimed,

“That naughty dog is here and he is eating a chicken!”

Well.  He was here and he was eating a chicken.  So we stop school and go outside to catch him.  This takes about 45 minutes and we get him all tied up to the mailbox.  We leave a chain at our mailbox and these people come and get their dog.  This is the arrangement we have, even though we have not spoken.  And it happens so often, I just leave the chain there.

The dog got loose three times after that.  And all three times, I would have to stop school and tie him up.

Three hours later, the owner comes.  The dog is not at the mailbox because he is too busy trying to eat another chicken.  She almost drives away but I wave her down and she drives up.

She does not seem to be bothered by this at sitch at all.  And she is sure that I will understand that she, herself, who is apparently a fellow homeschooler, was busy doing school with her children and forgot all about the dog.

She also said that next time I should just fire a gun in the air because guns scare the dog.

Because that sounds like something I have time for.

“Alright, kids.  Let’s pause this science lesson whilst mother goes outside to fire a weapon.”

Anyways.  I am annoyed and don’t know what to do.  Meanwhile, David is calling me often because we are trying to coordinate the picking up of our broken down minivan, dropping off of a rototiller to his sister, and taking a pig to the butcher-all tonight.

We start school again around 2 and I am bound and determined to get through my lessons when I glance at Little Dude.

Little Dude has decided to cut his hair.  As little boys are wont to do.

And I quit.  I am quitting today.  The end.

I chose to blog instead of fix his hair.  We are from the Ruralville.  People won’t bat an eye at the boy’s new look.

What.  A.  Day.

Fire a gun in the air.  Ha!

Happy Tuesday!

My head is pounding.  I think I am getting a sinus infection.

And here are tonight’s top stories.

1)  By Friday, all of my college work shall be submitted.  This is glorious news because who has time to do college?

Not me!

2)  Fun Fact.  Remember when I first started these online classes and I made fun of how O-L-D I am now and how H-A-R-D it is for me to figure out the meshing of the classes and Interwebs?  Sure you do.

Anyways.  I was going over my grades last week and I completely missed an essay worth many points.  Like just missed it.  Did not even know it existed.  Did not know what is was on.  Nor when it should have been due.  Clueless.

I sent a message to the instructor, certain she would tell me that something along the lines of “tough luck.”

She did not even respond to me.

About a week later, I am having trouble in this same class submitting a paper.  The paper is for bonus points, of which I desperately need.  Seeing as how there are Essays due that I don’t even know about.

And have I mentioned my obsession with getting A’s?

This is all getting my panties in a bunch.  A bunch!

So.  I email the instructor once again, hoping this time she will talk to me.

You see, dear readers, I have two classes.  The first class I am doing well in and communicate on a regular basis with the instructor.  If she messages me, I get a cute, little envelope on my Blackboard homepage.  So this is what I assumed would happen when the other instructor replied.

I don’t know how it happened, but it must have been Divine Intervention because apparently, there was this whole other email account I didn’t even know about.  And the OTHER instructor has been chatting with me via this mystery account since January and I have never seen it.

She had responded to my email last week.  Her response was:

“Hi, Taylor!  Have you read the syllabus?  Have you been following along with the course outline telling you when projects are due?  Could you please find my policy regarding late work on the syllabus and reply back to me stating what my policy is?  Thanks!”

Boy, did I feel sheepish.

*Head Hanging in Shame*

So, I repeat back to her what her late policy is, feeling like an idiot.  And apparently she is nice and lets people turn in work up to one week late.  But I am like, oh SIX weeks late.  But I apologized and she told me I could still turn it in.

Yay for nice people!  It makes my Grade-A loving heart so happy!

I am too old for school.  I will admit it.

3)  Point #2 went a bit long.  My apologies.  You probably just skimmed it, didn’t you?  DIDN’T YOU?

4)  My head is in a bit of a fog.  We are down to our last roll of toilet paper and there is like 4 slices of bread left in the house.  We are out of cereal, all canned goods, and cheese.  We have like, hmmm, 1 cup of milk.

5)  I do, however, have Handsome Dude’s tooth on my nightstand.  So, there you go.

6)  I had to pull out his tooth the other day.  He was upset because, and I quote,

“The Woose Toof  is making me not breave.”

And since I am all for breathing, I yanked it out.

7)  In other news, a coyote ran across our property while I was pouring my morning cup of coffee.

Doesn’t this sound like bad news?  I thought so.

Well, in all honesty, I have no idea if it was a coyote or a wolf.  I hope it was a coyote because I think wolves mean business.  But I really don’t know how to tell the difference.

I texted David, certain this was our ticket out of here.  I mean we can’t have wolves/coyotes running around!  That’s crazy.

We need to move post haste.

So, I texted him asking if we should be concerned.  He said no.

GoshDarnIt.

8)  I remembered that once upon a time, my neighbor had texted me to warn of coyotes, so I decided to return the favor and text him a similar warning.

Neighborhood Watch:  Animal Style.  It is what us country folk do.

He, like David, seemed unimpressed.  Then I remembered that he texted me about COUGARS, not coyotes.

In my defense, they are both creepy animals that start with a “C.”

9)  David has to tear down the entire wood shed and rebuild it because he apparently made a mistake.  Isn’t that the pits?  I say we just slap a roof on the crooked thing and call it good.  Which is why I don’t make a living in the field of home construction.

10)  We have had a rabbit explosion.  There are baby bunnies everywhere.  We have a whole passel of them living under the chicken coop.

And can we not all agree that “passel” is a fun word?

The bunnies and the chickens peacefully coexist.  No one tries to murder anyone, so I approve.  Yet, if the cat gets in the chicken coop, the hens get all crazy-like and try to eat him.

11)  I just saw our kitty, Mr. Poppers, trying to hunt a loose baby bunny-because have you heard?

Bunnies are everywhere!

This made me wonder if any of my darling children are remembering to feed Mr. Poppers?

I’ve been sick.  Things are slipping around here.  WE HAVE NO FOOD!  And the toilets need a scrubbing something fierce.

12)  Do you save your kids’ teeth after they fall out?  My mother in law did.  She handed me all of David’s baby teeth in a sandwich baggie years ago.  I think sometimes I save my kids’ teeth and sometimes I forget.  I might have a couple here and there scattered throughout the house. When I die, my children will have a grand time finding random bags of teeth, never knowing from whence they came.  It will be a fine legacy to leave them.

So, what do you do with your kids’ teeth? I think they belong in the trash, to be honest.

Thoughts?

Alright.  Goodbye.

We went camping this past weekend.  If anyone has read this blog for awhile, you might be recalling that we go camping once each year in April.  This is for to celebrate my dad’s birthday.

Would you like to know what my dad wanted for his birthday?

A Disc Man.

You might ask, “Taylor!  Didn’t you once do a post about your dad and his 2 song iPod?”

Yes.  Yes, I did.

Many moons ago, my dad received an iPod for his Christmas.

Why?  We cannot be certain.

It sat on his nightstand for about four months, unopened.  For his birthday in April, he asked for iTunes gift cards.  He got about $100 worth and there they sat by the unopened iPod for a time.

One day, David and I were over at his house and Dad asked if we could help him figure out “that darn I-whatever.”

So, we get everything all set up and he selects two songs that tickle his fancy.

Dad:  Ok, that’s good.

Me:  Dad.  You have two songs.

Dad:  I know.  That sounds good for now.

Me:  Dad.  You have like $98 left in your account.

Dad:  I’ll buy more later.

So, there he went to mow the lawn, donning the headphones of his Two-Song-iPod.

And every time we tease him about the 2-song-iPod, he likes to set the record straight and inform us that he has, and I quote,

“Well over 100 songs on there now.”

Because that is a lot.  As you are all aware.

Anyways.  I asked my mom what Pa would like for his birthday this year and she said a Disc Man.  So, I bought him the Disc Man, even though the man has in his possession the more convenient, more expensive, more desirable, iPod.

My parents.  Ever the mysteries.

And do we think he will use said Disc Man?

No.  No, we do not.

Back to the camping trip.   I was in charge of lunch and needed to wrap some potatoes in foil.  My mom saw me with my potatoes and foil.

Mom:  Taylor!  We have those foil wrappers, you know.

Attention:  Foil wrappers are simply sheets of already ripped out foil.  It is all just foil.

Me:  Ok.  Well, I don’t mind using my foil.

Mom:  No!  Let me get you the wrappers!  That’s what they are for!  Potatoes!

Me:  It is not a big deal to just rip out some foil, Mom.

Mom:  Oh, but they are so handy!  And a good deal because you can get them at the dollar store!

Me:  Mom.  I am fine.

Now, dear readers.  David and I had just arrived at the camping, so he was setting up our trailer and I was going to use my parents’ trailer oven.

Me:  Dad, can I put these potatoes in your oven?

Dad:  Sure!

I start to rip foil out.

Dad:  Wait!  I have the foil wrappers!  Use them!

Me:  Dad, I am fine.  I brought foil and I can use it.

Dad:  No, use these.

So, he makes me use the foil wrappers.  Because, apparently, foil wrappers are deeply important to my parents now.  But the best part of all?  The best part was that the foil wrappers were extremely large compared to my small-ish red potatoes.

So we still had to rip the wrappers in half.  Does anyone else see the insanity of it all?

Anyone?

Hello?

So, as we are ripping the foil wrappers, and not my inferior, tube-like foil, my mom walks in.

Mom:  Oh, good!  You are using the wrappers!

***

Camping was fun, but I got sick.  And I am still sick.  And being sick and the adult and the mom and the teacher is not fun.  I would not recommend it.

But I am drinking Fresca that my husband so graciously drove and retrieved for me last night.  He is such a nice boy.  So that makes things a little bit better.

So.  I’m gonna go feed the rascals lunch.  But I am probably going to need you all to weigh in on this hot topic:

Foil Wrappers:  What’s your stance?

My stance is foil is foil and who cares?

But maybe my parents are on to something?

Please Advise.

For Christmas, Alex and Holly gave us a gift certificate to a nearby resort with an indoor water park, and we finally used it towards a mini-vacation this past weekend.

We stayed one night at the resort and were able to spend two days at the water park.  I was a good girl and remembered to take some photos to commemorate the event.

The kids.

They had a blast.  Which was to be expected.

Handsome Dude was uber proud of himself for being able to cross “The Monkey Bars.”  I think this was because he was terrified to do anything else, so the fact that he did this dangerous activity made him feel manly.

Little Dude went down the same slide over and over again for about 45 minutes.  I know because I was the one in charge of him for that time.  And it was really exciting watching him come down the slide.

Every. Single. Time.

We didn’t see much of the girls.  They are old and mature and can handle all sorts of water parkish activities on their own.  I did however snap a photo of each of them trying the body boarding activity out.

Sweet Pea

Daisy Mae

Our hotel room was nice and big.  It included a full kitchen and a washer and dryer!  These are the things that excite adults.  The kids were ecstatic because it had THREE TVs.

At one point we were being extremely slothful and watching “Bee Movie” on the TV.  At home, we have DVR and watch most of our TV off of that.  This means we can fast forward commercials.

The boys do not understand that not all TVs have DVR.  You can imagine the wrath bestowed upon us every time “Bee Movie” took a commercial break.

“Skip it, Mom!  SKIP it!”

No.  Our kids aren’t spoiled.  Why do you ask?

Back to the pictures.

The boys eating breakfast in our fancy hotel room.

The kids when we went out to dinner.

David and I at dinner.

Now, I know what you are going to say.

“Why isn’t David smiling?”

But, I would like to submit that perhaps he is smiling.  Allow me to elaborate.

Let us examine this photo of David from about a year ago.

No.  He is not smiling.

But look again at the picture from this weekend.

 The corners of his mouth are definitely yearningto smile.  I call it progress.  Perhaps in another year, he will have graduated to a “faint smile.”

Baby steps, people.  Baby steps.

***

We had a grand time and it was fun to take a break from pigs, chickens, rabbits, homeschooling, and general hillbilly-redneck-life.

Happy Monday!

My husband has been doing some truck “remodeling” as of late.  He took off the original bed of the truck and replaced it with a flat bed.

I know.  I don’t really understand what I am talking about either.  But that is not that point!  The point is this:  he needed to get rid of ye olde truck bed.

Ye olde truck bed has problems.

1)  David is hard on a truck.

We have had this thing for 9 years and it has been with us through many a camping trip and wood cutting excursion.  Plus, it helped us load all the lumber and trash from when we remodeled our old house.

The point?  The point is this.  The truck bed was dinged up.

2)  The tail-gate no longer works and will randomly fall down.  Sometimes, this is not a big deal.  Other times, it can be problematic.

3)  David enjoys stressing Teller out.  I told him that I shall never be able to do errands in the truck from here on out.  Because, guess what?  If I ever have to get anything, I need to use something called a “tie-down.”

It is just all too much for me.  So,  I quit the truck. The end.

But now we need to dispose of said truck bed.  Sure, we could just go chuck it in a dumpster, but who has the time?  Or the muscles?

So had ourselves an idea.  We said to ourselves:

“Let us put it on Craigslist!  For Free!”

Within minutes, David’s phone starts to ring.  Like a lot.  Which begs the question, how many dollars could we have gotten for this apparently very desirable truck bed?

One can only wonder.

Apparently, when you put an ad on The Craigslist for a FREE truck bed, the crazies come out of the woodwork.  So, without further ado, I shall present to you:

A Sampling of David’s Convos with The Crazies.

(Convos is short for conversations.  Please, keep up.)

Convo Numero Uno

Crazy #1:  Yeah.  Just how beat up is this bed?

David:  Well, I was pretty hard on it so the sides aren’t flat . . .

Crazy #1:  Will you hold it for me?

David:  Nope.  First come, first served.

Crazy #1:  Alright.  I can come around mid afternoon.

David:  No one will be home.  You can just grab it.

(Interjection-I find this creepy.  Thoughts?)

Convo Numero Dos

Crazy #2- Hey, do you still have your truck bed?

David:  Yup.  Someone might come and look at it tomorrow though.

Crazy #2:- Man, I really want it.  Will you hold it for me?

David:  Nope.

Crazy #2-  That’s cool.  Ok, well I got court in the morning, but I will call you when I get out, cool?

David:  Sounds good.

(COURT!  Hmmm . . . )

Convo Numero Tres

Crazy #3:  Hey!  I really need this truck bed!  Still got it?

David:  Yup.

Crazy #3:  Yeah, well I had a bed that I used for a trailer, but it was parked next to my lean-to and the snow fell off the lean-to and it smashed my trailer.  So I need a new one.

(Interjection:  It’s ok.  I don’t really know what a lean-to is, either.  But David seems to know.  He’s smart in the ways of the hillbilly.)

David:  Alright.

Crazy #3:  You live pretty far!  Can you meet me halfway?

David:  No.

Crazy #3:  Alright.  I really need this.  I am gonna call around and see if someone will give me gas money.  I’ll call you back.

David:  Ok.

Convo Numero Quattro

Crazy #4:  Hey!  Are you the guy with the free truck bed?

David:  Yup.

Crazy #4:  What did you do?  Take it off and put a flat bed on there?

David:  Yup.

Crazy #4:  Sweet, man.

David:  Yup.

Crazy #4:  My name is Ozzy.  Do you know me?

David:  Uh . . . nope.

Crazy #4:  Alright.  Cool, man!  Talk to you later!

***

Question.  What was the point of Ozzy’s phone call?  And why should we know him? Inquiring minds want to know.

So, there you have it.  Put something for free on Craigslist and you can become Mr. Popular in an instant!

That is all.