The Lumberjack's Wife

On Friday, the children and I went on a field trip to the big city.  Going to the big city requires a fairly long car drive and we currently do not have a working cd player/radio/stereo system in the car.

Oh, the humanity!

Little Dude:  Let’s play the quiet game everyone!  Ready?  One, Two, Three, GO!

*Silence*

*It is wonderful*

Little Dude:  Pause!  Look!  School Bus!  Unpause!

Daisy Mae (whining and acting NOT like an 8 year old):  Hey, no fffaaaiiirrr!  There’s no pausing in the quiet game!

Little Dude:  Ha ha, you lose!

Daisy Mae:  No, I DIDN’T!

Little Dude:  Yes.  You lose.  Ready?  One, Two, Three, GO!

*Silence*

Little Dude:  Pause!  Mom, hey, Mom?  You are playing the quiet game, too, ok, Mom?  OK?  OK, MOM?

Me:  Ok.

Little Dude:  Haha! Mom talked.  Mom loses. I win!

Daisy Mae:  NO FAIR

Little Dude:  Ready?

Daisy Mae:  No!  There is no pausing in the quiet game!  Do you understand me?  NO!

Little Dude:  One, Two, Three . . . Go!

*Silence*

Little Dude:  Pause!  Everybody!  There is NO PAUSING in the quiet game?  Okay?  OKAY?  Unpause!

It will be a day worthy of praise when The Best Buy calls to inform us that our stereo has been repaired.

So, we went to the children’s museum.  I know!  We are so fancy-pants.  The kids had fun and we met up with friends from our homeschool co op.  And I have no idea how to write “co op.”  Do I put a hyphen in it?  Like so:  co-op.  And what is co op short for?  Cooperative?  Should I just call it the Homeschool Cooperative and be all hoity toity like that?

Does anyone even care?

I don’t.

Anywho.  The kids had fun at the aforementioned Children’s Museum.

On Friday, I went on an overnight retreat with some pals from church.  I had to bring a sleeping bag, so I grabbed the only one we had.

The Mummy Sleeping Bag.

Dost anyone know what I am talking about?  These things are wretched.  They get very narrow at the bottom and you basically cannot move. Because this sleeping bag’s purpose is to bring you sorrow, despair, and suffering all the days of your life.  I am pretty sure David purchased it on clearance.  Because David is a fan of the good deals.

So, I am in a room with four other gals.  I am on the top bunk and there are no safety railings.  And I am 31 now and feeling like I am a bit too old to be doing these sorts of activities.

I have a knee problem.  I have had five surgeries and it oft gives me grief at night.  I enjoy propping it up and icing it at night.

You try propping up your knee in The Mummy Sleeping Bag of Doom.

I ended up having to get out of The Mummy Sleeping Bag of Despair and lay on The Community Fitted Sheet of Filth and just use the sleeping bag as a blanket.

Go ahead. Shudder at my grossness.

Oh, yes.  I just laid right on a sheet that was last washed who-knows-when.  All for the sake of my knee.

Because I am 31 now and my joints ache.  And I choose comfort over cleanliness.

Don’t worry.  My bunkmates enjoyed hearing the play by play of all my trials and tribulations that evening.  They found it endearing.

When David and the children picked me up the next day, Handsome Dude looked at me and said:

“Mom?  I weally missed you.”

Bam!

Love it.

I would like to introduce you to a new segment on this blog entitled:

Things That Should Have Been Done Before the Snow Fell

David has decided to dig a trench and bring power to the chicken coop so we no longer have to use extension cords.

He is an electrician after all.  These are the things he does.

I already purchased a stinking cute lanternish light to put on the coop.  I am pretty excited about it.

I am also going to make a sign.  Eventually.  It is going to be epic.

Can you feel the excitement?  Can you?  Can you?

I am still painting away the peach.  I shall be painting the peach for the next two years.  I am certain of it.

It is everywhere.

Happy Wednesday!

Yes, I am glad you asked.  We are still painting.  Or, more accurately, we are taking a sabbatical from painting.  Hence, the dragging out of the process.

But, hark!

The kitchen is done.

You may ask: “Taylor!  Would it have been SO hard for you to have put away the lunch food before snapping one of your super classy photos?”

Yes.  Yes, it would have been.

The astute reader might notice the container of coffee creamer by the coffee pot.  ‘Tis true.  I can no longer proudly announce that I drink only black coffee.  I gave up the creamer and had a good run, too.  But then, I had to start homeschooling the boy.  And, you know.  Something had to give.

The extremely astute reader might also notice that I have a sign above my kitchen window.  I have a special announcement to make.

Hold on to your pants, folks!

I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, made that sign.

All.

By.

My.

Self.

As if I could not be any cooler.  (And I am not)  I made it with the help of Sis-in-Law #1 and Sis-in-Law #2. So, I guess I just totally lied when I said I did it by myself.  But, whatever.   Sometimes, Lisa, Amy, and I have “Pinterest Days.”  This is where we create things we have seen on The Pinterest.  True, that sign is not on The Pinterest.  But we just let our creative juices flow.  We like to keep things loosie goosie.  As to not hinder the creative process.  Or something like that.

In the spirit of announcements, I have another announcement to make.  This one is kind of a big deal.

For the painting process, I have been the one removing and replacing all the electrical plates.

Like with a SCREWDRIVER.  I KNOW!

As I was putting the plates back on, I thought to myself:

“Teller.  This is probably what David does all the livelong day.”

Or at least during the trim part of a house.  And trim part is how cool people say “the finishing up” part of the house creating process.  FYI.  Oh! Because, are you new here?  My husband is an electrician.  Not a Lumberjack.  I know.  It doesn’t make sense.

And then I thought:

“I bet my husband is totally anal and has some specific way he likes all these stupid screws to point.”

I decided I would try to make them all matchy-matchy and I made all the screws end up vertical.

Like so:

Except, shoot!  The top left one looks a bit not-so-straight.  Oh, well.

Anyways!  The point is I guessed right!  He IS anal about it AND he likes them to stay vertical.

Dang.  I am so his soul mate.

Speaking of which, I love the guy.  I really do, it’s trye!  And I have a story to share.  I am really hoping that everyone understands what I am trying to say and I don’t make anybody mad with the following tale.

David went hunting on Tuesday.  He usually hunts on our property if he gets home from work on time.  He has a tree stand that he goes and sits on and, well, hunts.   I cannot see the tree stand from the house.

He came in from hunting and he gave me a funny look.  I asked him what was up and he did not tell me.  But, what else is new?

David.  Not chatty.

So, we drove to town to vote.  Like good citizens and all.  On the way back, I asked him why he looked at me like that.

David:  Oh, because I almost died in the tree stand.

Me:  What?!

David:  Seriously!  It was bad.  I thought it was the end.

Now.  People.  Being married to a guy like David is not for the faint of heart.  We have to worry about the guns and the hunting and the other people hunting and the getting lost in the wilderness and wild animals and the chainsaws and the tree felling and the tree possibly felling on the husband.  And sometimes I have to worry about the driving because he does a lot of driving and we sometimes have inclement (oooh!  A fancy word!) weather and deer darting to and fro and hither and don.

So.  Take everything that I worry about with him into consideration when you hear how he tells me he almost died.

Me:  What happened?!

David:  It was a Tootsie Pop!  I choked on it!

It was actually pretty scary sounding, to me at least.  He choked on a Tootsie Pop while in the tree stand and he could not breathe for at least thirty seconds.  He kept pounding on his chest over and over again until he finally coughed it up.  But since he was in the tree stand, no one would have ever known!  See?  Scary.

I did not like this story.  I might have to call a Husband/Wife safety meeting and remove all hard candy from the house.

Later on, I thought it was kind of . . . ironic.  I have spent so many hours worrying about him and all the crazy things he does.

And a Tootsie Pop almost killed him.

Not a stray bullet, a wild animal, falling tree, or icy roads.

A Tootsie Pop.  Crazy.

I am very glad he is ok.  He is my favorite.

This is Taylor signing off.

I also wanted to let you know it is snowing as I type.

And David will be driving home from work soon.

Goodbye.

I asked Handsome Dude to go get the mail the other day.  He came bursting back in, out of breath and whisper/shouted:

“Baby deer!  There is a baby DEER on our PROPERTY!”

It was all very exciting.  Even though it was probably more like a teenager.  Or a ‘tween.

Halloween!

I forgot to post about it.  My bad.  I am sure you have all been on pins and needles, wondering what the Lumberchildren dressed up as.

Sorry for the terrible picture quality.  But are we surprised?

No.  We are not.

From left to right:

Little Dude as Bob the Builder.

Sweet Pea as a prairie girl.

Handsome Dude as Thomas the Train

Daisy Mae as a bride.

And Daisy Mae would like everyone to know that she has NO GROOM.

*giggle, giggle, blush, blush*

We went to my parents’ house, as there are no, like, passersby in Ruralville for the trick or treating.  Sweet Pea opted out of going, because she is almost ten and above such things.

Daisy Mae had to inform me that while trick or treating, Little Dude was grabbing more than one candy from the bowl.  So, I had a little convo with him regarding proper candy-taking etiquette.

Therefore and henceforth, after each house, he would stand right by the person who just gave him the candy and shout to me:

“MOM!  HEY, MOM! I NOT GRAB, MOM!  I ONLY TOOK ONE, MOM!  I NOT TAKE TWO OR FREE OR BOUR!”

And sometimes, a kind soul would give him more than one.  If this were the case, he would stand and shout:

“HE GAVE ME FREE, MOM!  I NOT GRAB!”

And he would use the pronoun “he” regardless of the candy-giver’s gender.  Which was awesome.

In preparation for the dinner at my parents’ house, Sweet Pea had found a recipe from her American Girl magazine and fixed it up to bring.  She was so excited about it.  She got the little bite sized snacks all set up on a plate and brought a fancy, gold pie server.  The gold pie server has a special story.  She saw it in a store and just had to buy it for me for my birthday.  She used her own money and was off the charts excited to give me a GOLD pie server.  It was precious.

So, that was Halloween.  And after my last post, I have been getting lots of “Poor Taylor” comments regarding the cook top.  No need to feel badly for me! Sure, it was a bummer that the cook top broke, but David and I thought it was funny.  It was an unfortunate accident. We had a good chuckle about it.  Of course, we wish it would not have happened, but there are many worse things that can happen in life.

As David would say:  “It’s only money, honey.”

And it is true!  It’s just stuff.

Lastly, I wanted to show you this picture of  Little Dude.  He is writing a letter to our penpals in England.

I know!  Penpals!  Are we fancy-pants or what?

He has two new obsessions.

Markers and exclamation points.

Happy Monday!

When we last spoke, I had just come inside from chasing four pigs all about the lands.

I called David during the fiasco.

Me:  Well, what do you want me to do?  I don’t know how to herd pigs!

David:  Well, if you could try to get them in, that would be great.  Is it going to stress you out?

Me:  YES!  Yes, it is STRESSING me out! I am trying to do school and paint and I DON’T KNOW HOW TO CATCH PIGS!

Yes.  I am THE example of a patient wife.  Take notes.

David came home from work.  We had great plans to paint, because, Oh!  Have you heard?

We are painting the peach!  THE PEACH!  The Peach, People!

Are you excited?  Because this is exciting.

Rejoice with me!

Anyways.  Instead of getting right to painting, David began to electrify the pig fence, which was brilliant, of course because now the snorty scoundrels are staying put and not running down the road.

Rejoice with me!

So, David came in and was trying to make up for lost time with the painting.  Now, the general plan is that I, Teller, paint the walls green.

Yes.  Green.  We likey.

David’s job is to paint the ceilings white.  Because, again, peach was everywhere.

Even the ceilings.  They got all handsome on the peach paint, those previous owners did.

We had already purchased a flat, white ceiling paint.  David had used two gallons of it and decided it was not to his liking.  So, he went to Home Depot and picked up a 5 gallon bucket of white paint.

In order to  paint the ceilings, David stands on the kitchen counters.  And he stepped on the ceramic cook top.

Remember?  The cook top we JUST put in two months ago because I blew up the original whilst canning peaches?

Guess what we learned?

Ceramic cook tops are not good for:

A)  Canning

B)  Grown men standing on them

It is shattered.  The end.

But, wait!  There’s more!

After he painted the entire kitchen ceiling (and shattered the cook top), we stepped back to take a looksie and realized something was not right.

He had grabbed some sort of glaze and not paint.

NOT PAINT!

Oh, the humanity!

Five gallon buckets are a bit pricey.  So are cook tops.  So many dollars.

Perhaps there is glorious amounts of money to made in pigs?

One can only hope.

Anywho.  All that happened on Thursday.

It was epic.

Here is a picture of the ceiling in the living room right now.

Isn’t that just gross?

In case you couldn’t tell, I really don’t like the peach.

Faretheewell!

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

You might proclaim:

“Teller!  There are pigs out!”

And you would be right, dear reader.  Oh, yes.  You would be right.  What was really awesome was when the four, yes FOUR, pigs were running down the road.  Like on the actual road.

Turns out that pigs can dig under fences.  Like their friends, the chickens.  Who have also been known to run free about our lands from time to time.  Because, have you heard?  Apparently my life’s purpose it to chase animals.  And I am not very good at it.

These pigs are disgusting.  As opposed to most other pigs.  I mean, have you really ever watched a pig?  They make it their life’s purpose to destroy the ground around them.  They truly do not care what it is . . . they will eat it.

Perhaps that is why they are called:  Pigs.

I tried everything I could think of.  I threw carrots at them.  I threw feed at them.  I spoke sweetly to them.  I yelled at them all furious-like.

They cared not.

For an hour and a half, the kids and I tried to figure out how to get these pigs back to their pen.  Oh, sure.  I could have washed my hands of it and left them out there to snort and plunder freely.

But, let’s think this through.

They were, at one point, on the road.  THE ROAD.  What happens, pray tell, if they go to the neighbors’ lands and destroy everything in their path there?  I ask you?

And, yes.  I have neighbors.

So, the kids and I persevered.  And I will admit, that I only got one pig in the kids got the rest in.  I am not above admitting my kids are better pig ranchers than I am.

At one point, the pigs were trying to dig up Miley’s (our dead dog) grave.  So we parked the 4 wheeler on it.

And when I say “we”, I of course mean Daisy Mae.  Because I don’t even know how to turn it on.

At one point, we came across a dead chicken.  Sweet Pea ran with a shovel and removed the poor dead hen before the pigs had their way with it.

Handsome Dude walked around the perimeter of the fence and figured out all the places where the pigs were pushing their way out.

Little Dude opted out of the fun and went inside to read.  Which was just as well.  I mean, have you met Little Dude?  He would probably let the rabbits loose so they could join the party.

Finally, all pigs were back safe and sound.

Disgusting, are they not?

I went to and nail the board back up across the gate.  (David nails a board across the gate so the boys cannot “accidentally” leave the gate open.)

Alas.  I could not figure it out.

Does this surprise us?

Nay.

Nay, it does not.

So Sweet Pea climbed on the 4 wheeler and we parked it right in front of the gate, where it shall sit until David comes home.

After the pigs were safe and sound, this was the convo I heard amongst the kids.

Sweet Pea:  I love the pigs.

Handsome Dude:  Yes!  They are willy toot!

(He, of course, meant “really cute.”  Please, try to keep up.)

Sweet Pea:  That one is my favorite.  Her name is Charlotte.

(Uh-Oh!  Danger!  Danger!  The kids should not be naming the bacon after beloved book characters!)

Handsome Dude:  I thought he was a boy?

Sweet Pea:  No, that one is a girl.

Me:  Oh, stop.  You don’t know which ones are boys and which ones are girls.

I mean, if I don’t know how to sex a pig, surely the kids don’t.

Daisy Mae:  Yes, we do!

Me:  No, you don’t.

Sweet Pea:  Yes!  Dad taught us.

And right then and there, on this brisk, fall afternoon, my kids taught me how to sex a pig.

I have no more words.

Good Wednesday Morning to you.

Today is the last day of the 31 days of Blessings in Everyday Life posts.  And we all know how well I did sticking to posting each and every day.

However!

I did start the month off quite discouraged in life, especially regarding homeschool.  I have since painfully tried to force myself to change my attitude.  And, yes, I still get a bit down about school, but it is amazing what a little change in perspective can do.  I have been able to see all the little blessings we have since wedo homeschool, and I am encouraged because of it.

So, now, without further ado, I present:

The Homeschool Blessings List

1.  Having your kids close by everyday.

2.  Knowing exactly what they are learning and being able to make connections and tie their learning into everyday life.

3.  Listening to your preschooler read and knowing that YOU, yes, YOU helped him do that.

Also, having your preschooler insist on reading to you while you are trying to paint and him getting quite furious at you when you do not get AS excited as he about his riveting book about jam, Pam, sat, and yak.

4.  Homeschool Co Op.  Where other amazing parents do exciting projects with my kids so I don’t have to!

Exhibit A:

Homemade Bird Feeders:

Exhibit B:

Dissecting Owl Pellets.

The kids were given an owl pellet and two toothpicks to use to break the pellet apart.  Once they did that, they would search for bones and then match them up on their “bone” paper to try and determine which animal met its unlucky fate in the belly of an owl.

It was disgusting.

Later that night, I was telling David all about it.  Turns out he also dissected owl pellets whilst being a homeschooling lad.

Teller, the girl who went to school all her life, never did.

5.  So, there you go.  Blessing #5.  Homeschoolers get to dissect owl pellets.

And, no!  Pellets are not poop, my friends.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who knows that an owl pellet is.

6.  My girls love to help my boys.  It is very sweet to watch the girls teach the boys, although the boys are not always quite as sweet back.

7.  My kids’ recess time involves many interesting things.  They can ride their bikes.  They can jump on the trampoline.  They can practice their basketball skills.  Or skillz, if you prefer.

They can visit rabbits.

They can chase chickens.

Which is always fun.  Of course.

They can visit pigs.

And best of all . . . they are OUTSIDE.  And I can be INSIDE having a cup o’ coffee and trying to regroup.

Amen.

8.  We can do random, off the wall things when we feel like it.

For example, yesterday, we had a hankering to make a pumpkin pie.  And since we do not live near stores and the like, we had to make due with what we had available.

So, we started with one of our very own pumpkins.  You know.  From the garden that we weeded for 4.2 million hours?

Bam!

We, yes, we The Maliblahblahs, made that very pumpkin.

So, we cut up the pumpkin and baked it and scooped out all the pumpkin flesh.  It was really quite violent.

Then we added all sorts of spices to it and EGGS from the feathered hineys of our very own hens.

I did not have evaporated milk, darn it all, but I did use the power of The Google and discovered you can make your own evaporated milk with nonfat dry milk powder and water.

Holla, Google!

I even made my own pie crust.  This is a huge, HUGE step for me in life.

True.  The crust was not pretty.  But it was edible and it was able to contain pie.  So there you go.

9. Field Trips!  Since we live a bit away from life, these are harder to do with the gas and time, but we love them and can do them together.

10. Snuggling on the couch and reading together.  It is the best cure for any frustrating day.

Happy Wednesday!

My boys love their dad and they want to be just like him.

Case in Point:

  We were getting ready for a wedding a few weeks ago.  Handsome Dude was all ready and watching David lace up his “dressy” boots.

Seriously.  Dressy boots.

I have no idea how my life ended up this way.  Me, the girl who did not even know the scientifical mechanics on how chickens reproduce.  Or even what Carhartts were.  Or how to genderify a rabbit.  Or what the undercarriage of a bull dozer was.

Congratulations, Universe.  You win.

And, yes!  I made up the words scientifical and genderify.  Because I can.

Oh, and please, rest assured, David was wearing his “dressy” Carhartts to the wedding as well.

Anywho.  It takes David 4 1/2 years to lace up the boots.  He is so high-maintenance.  Handsome Dude was watching him.

HD:  Mom!  I need boots!

Me:  Well, you don’t have any.  You are wearing your nice shoes.

Fun Fact:  His nice shoes are basically his everyday shoes.  Don’t judge us.

I see the look of longing in his eyes as he watches his father, who is still, of course, lacing up his boots.

Me:  Well, we might have your old cowboy boots somewhere downstairs?

HD (face lighting up):  Yes!  I’ll wear those!

So, we went and found the boots and shoved his ginormous man-boy feet into them.  And waited for David to finish lacing up his boots.

It was precious.  Plus, David can never make a comment on how long it takes me to fix my hair again.  Like ever.

***

The boys always want to help their dad.  This weekend we stopped by the rental to rake some leaves.

Handsome Dude

Please take note of the Carhartt sweatshirt and the WORK boots, not dressy boots.

Mmmm-hmmmm.

Little Dude

Also wearing a Carhartt sweatshirt, although not as noticeable.

The boys also enjoy helping their father with farm and ranch chores.  Because, oh!  Have you heard?  We like to feign we are farmers.  When we are not.

Here they are feeding the pigs.  And loving every minute of it.

Today for our homeschool co op, Little Dude had to bring something for Show and Tell.  He chose his Carhartt jacket because, and I quote (shouting, of course):

“IT HAS A PATCH!  SEE?  A PATCH!  LIKE DAD!  SEE?  PATCH!  PPPPPPPPAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTCCCCCCCCCHHHHHH!”

The “patch” could also refer to the Carhartt emblem.  FYI.

The boys have also determined that they shall soon hunt.  (They won’t).  Handsome Dude feels that since he is 5, he is ready to shoot a bear.

Since Little Dude is only four, he can only shoot a moose.

Because, according to Handsome Dude, moose weigh about 50 pounds.  And that is better for four-year-olds to hunt than bears.

Happy Monday!

Sister Meagan requested a picture of the youngsters last Friday.  I remembered when we were in the car en route to church.

We made our usual stop at the dump, because we could not be any cooler, so I seized the moment and snapped a photo.

And now we must ask ourselves:

What is up with Little Dude and his face?

Little Dude.

Let us discuss him, shall we?

You might recall that Little Dude is the reason we got the pigs in the first place.  He loves them with all his heart.

We don’t know why.

Knowing my boy is apt to go and sit with the chickens and the rabbits, I had a little convo with David when we got the pigs.  I was worried about Little Dude getting into the pig pen and

A) Getting trampled

B)  Letting pigs loose

or

C) Getting trampled.

Therefore, David nailed a board across the pig gate so no little Lumberjacklings could enter of their own free will.

So, you might imagine my surprise when I looked out the window the other day and saw Little Dude running through the pig pen.

In flip flops.

Because everyone knows that flip flops are the ideal footwear choice when trudging through pig manure.  Obviously.

I open the window and shout.  We are country folk, afterall.

Me:  Dude!  Get OUT of there!

LD:  But, MOOOOM!

Me:  NO!  OUT!

LD:  But they have my ball!  My ball!  MY BALL!

Me:  You get out of there this instant, young man!

LD:  But, Mo–

Me:  OUT!

The boy went to go climb the gate again.

Me:  You come inside right now, Mister!  You are in big trouble.

Yes.  My kids get in trouble for sneaking into pig pens.  Don’t yours?

A few moments later, I hear the doorbell ring.  This is a classic Little Dude trick, and he never tires of it.

I open the door and he is standing there with his poopy flip flops, a grin on his face, and freshly picked flowers in his hands.

Me:  Where did you get those flowers?

LD:  Handsome Dude showed me.  He said I better bring you some.

Stand down, readers!  I did not succumb to the power of the flowers!  The boy must be dealt with.  I put the flowers aside and, well, dealt with him.

After he was, you know, dealt with, he looked at me all grumpy-like and said,

“Put your flowers in water, Mom!”

So, we put the flowers in water, changed the boy into more appropriate shoes, and he went back out to play non-pig related activities.

Blessings:

I have a very hilarious boy who keeps me on my toes.  He has a big love for animals and is now currently trying to talk us into ducks and cows.

Pray for me.