The Lumberjack's Wife

Raise your hand if you fear that, at some point in this sure-to-be-exciting post, I might mention weeding.

Hmmm . . . . only time will tell.

We have been busy bees here at the Maliblahblah homestead.  Here is a list!  For I know lists please you so.

1)  Our vacation rental biz is booming.  This is excellent news when it comes time to make two house payments.  This is terrible news when it comes time to clean the wretched thing.  It is completely booked out for the next 5 weeks with not one break in between guests.  It is sure to be exhausting.

Let the records show:  I am thankful that we are able to do it.  Even if the cleaning part is loathsome.

2)  The kids have been at Vacation Bible school every night this week.  It is glorious, and they are loving it as well.  Sweet Pea is, most assuredly, every VBS teacher’s dream student.  She takes it quite seriously.  She leads her siblings in a “worship practice” session before they head out, so as to ensure they all remember the songs, and she spends her spare time memorizing extra verses.

The other night on the drive home, she memorized the entire Lord’s prayer.

This shows that:

A)  She is the bee’s knees.

B)  We have a LONG drive home.

3)  Jason and Amy brought David and I huckleberry milkshakes one evening when we were cleaning the rental.

Huckleberry milkshakes.  Like sweet nectar to our souls.

In case you are behind the times, huckleberries are a prized possession here in our homelands.  They could probably be used as currency.  True story.

4)  People sell huckleberries for FORTY dollars a gallon.  See?  I wasn’t lying.

5)  We have found about five total raspberry bushes amidst our property!  David has a jolly good time picking fresh berries from his land to sprinkle on his morning cereal.  It pleases him.  These are the reasons he moved us out here.  To live off his land, you know?

6)  Perhaps if we found hidden acres of huckleberry brush, we could afford to pay someone else to clean that rental, eh?

7)  We are still weeding our ginormous garden.  It’s true. But, hark!  There is an end in sight!  I think we have about 10 rows left to weed and Preen.

And now, I would like to close with a story.

The other morning, I was looking out my window and noticed Tank the dog making his way around the rabbits and chickens with something in his mouth.

This is never good.

He made a big loop and came right to the front steps and dropped off his find for me.

A newborn, baby rabbit.

And it was still alive.  Darn it all.

Stand down, Readers!  I did not want the baby to die, but now I got to put on my Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman pants and try to be all life-saving.  And I don’t know how to save a newborn rabbit!

Have you seen a newborn rabbit before?  It is not precious.  They look like hairless, infant rats.  But that is besides the point.  We had ourselves a true farm and ranch emergency.

I called to the girls for help, because there is no way I can handle this sitch on my own.  I was not made for this life, you know?  Daisy Mae and I both got the peepee shivers at the thought of picking up the baby rabbit.  I used my awesome Mom-manipulative skills (or skillz, if you prefer) to talk Sweet Pea into picking up the rabbit.

Sweet Pea wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up.  I told her these are the things she must do.

Don’t judge.  You would do it,too.

So, I gave her a washcloth and she wrapped the “precious” baby up in it while Daisy Mae and I tried to figure out where this baby came from.

There were no holes in the fence.

There were no rabbit nests that the dog could get into.

We have NO idea where this rabbit’s nest is.  Nor how the dog could have possibly acquired this find.

Sweet Pea decided to be all heroic and noble and whatnot and try to talk me into letting her care for the rabbit.

Yes.  She would create a nest for it, somehow create some sort of nipple small enough for the baby to drink milk, and name it “Chance.”

I told her there was no way a newborn rabbit would survive under our care.

Have you read this blog?

Finally, Daisy Mae and I found a nest with other newborns hidden under some straw and Sweet Pea gently put “Chance” in with that group.

Seriously.

This is my life.  Be envious.

All seems well with Chance.  I think we have a crazy, mama rabbit because David found another newborn flailing about outside the nest.

The only thing I can reckon (that’s farm and ranch speak for “figure out”) is that Crazy Mother Rabbit decided that Chance was unworthy of her care and tossed him out.  Perhaps Tank the Dog is really the hero for bringing Chance safely to our doorstep and not eating him for breakfast?

I cannot be certain.

Happy Wednesday!

The other day, Sweet Pea was comparing my tan to hers.

Sweet Pea:  I wish I were as white as you.

Me:  What are you talking about?

Sweet Pea:  I hate being so tan.

Um, yeah.  For the record, I am totes tanner than her, that Pipsqueak, on account of all that wretched weeding I do.  I am like a bronzed, weeding goddess.

Sweet Pea:  I love white, white skin.  You know whose skin I love?  Melissa’s.  I wish I were as white as her!

Ha!  And that would be Bimlissa.  And is anyone still here who even knows who Bimlissa is?  Is Bimlissa even still here?  Is anyone reading this at all?

Poor Bimlissa.  And, fun fact!  Bimlissa isn’t even all that white.  So, I don’t know what is up with that child of mine.

Let’s move on!  Some updates, if you will.

1)  Remember Hatch and Company?  Well, those little chicks we hatched on our counter are growing up.

They are four whole weeks old.

We started with 15, and now we are down to 9.  I have come to one of two conclusions:

A)  This is farm life.  Animals die.  So be it.

B)  Our property is where animals come to die.  Cursed are we.

2)  I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, had to remove two dead, baby chick bodies all by myself.  This is a huge accomplishment for me, because, have you met me?

I used the dustpan with a long handle from my handy, fireplace tool set.

It was a wretched experience and I hope to never repeat it again.

3)  David butchered five of our freeloading hens.  I was not his helpmeet during the process, but I was outside while he was doing the deed.

What was I doing, you ask?

Weeding.

He did it quite humanely  and I now have five clean, little chicken bodies in my freezer.  Which leads me to believe he expects me to cook them.

4)  The day he asks me to pluck a chicken is the day I move back to town.

5)  From now on, we are saving the chicken feet for a friend.  She fancies chicken feet to make her special, scrumptious chicken broth, but she lives in an apartment in town and, alas, they are hard to come by.  Imagine that.

I told her she needs to switch lives with me.

6)  Chicken feet broth!  Who knew?!

7)  Here is a recent picture of my garden.  Like you care.

I have 20 rows left to weed and Preen.

8)  Look!  I have a watermelon plant!

Be impressed.

Although, a little birdie told me that the watermelons need four full months of hot sun to fully ripen.

So, yeah.  Probably not going to have any sort of watermelon harvest here.

9)  So, funny story.  We have been weeding this garden and gathering raspberry starts from my ma-in-law and trying to get some sort of bountiful crop going and David was driving up the driveway and noticed this:

Raspberries!

(And weeds.  Shocking, I know.)

Ha!  We have raspberries along our weed-infested driveway.

I wonder what else we got out there?  And how have we not noticed these red beauties before, I ask you?

10)  Today is the day in which we celebrate Sister Meagan’s birth.

When Sister Meagan was a young lass, my parents bought her this obnoxious cassette that went like this:

“Hey, Meagan!  It’s your birthday!  I’m in charge of the stars and I’m here to say: ‘Hey, Meagan! You’re the big star . . . Today!’  My name is Zoom and I live on the moon and I came down to earth just to sing you this tune!  Hey, Meagan! You’re the big star, today!  Happy Birthday, Meagan!  See you next yyyyeeeaaarrrr!”

Now.  We, the late 80’s/early 90’s children that we were, would listen in awe to this magic tape that somehow knew Meagan’s name.

True.  Whenever “Zoom” said Meagan’s name, the voice was different, but that’s beside the point.

It was magic.

Meagan listened to this tape all day, every day for about 5 years.

True Story.

She has always been a bit needy.

I would like to state that I never got such a tape.

Happy Birthday to Sister Meagan!  Get all handsome on some cake and whatnot.

Look at me!  Posting like it ain’t no thang.  This is because I was a rebel with a capital R and only weeded two rows in the garden instead of my goal of six.

Garden!  New plan:

Weed a row.  Sprinkle with Preen.  I was advised to sprinkle the Preen and was promised that no new weeds would grow after the Preen was sprinkled.  This had better be truth because I am slowly losing my mind.

And there will be dirt permanantly in my fingernails for all eternity.

I have 28 rows left to weed and Preen.  Wish me luck!

So, let’s see.  What’s new . . .

1)  The girls have been good little weeding helpers.  It is true.  We have been taking out the cd player and listening to Adventures in Odyssey as we weed.  Good times.

2)  David got home at, wait for it . . . . 6:17pm last night!  Par-TAY!  He usually gets home at 8pm or later in the summer.  We took advantage of this rare treat, packed dinner, and hit the beach.

The girls, as if they could not be any cooler.  They found a log, named it Big Beef, and had a grand time going on “log rides.”

And, hello!  Gardening reference!  I have a Big Beef Tomato plant in my STUPID, WEEDY garden.  So, there you go.  Fun fact.

3)  While the girls went on reckless log rides, the boys went fishing with the patriarch.

They each caught two fish on their own!  No trickery on David’s part was needed.  They are true fisherboys.

4)  I caught no fish  and swam on no logs named Big Beef.  I did, however, eat red vines and was bitten by no less than 4.2 million mosquitoes.

5)  I harvested lettuce from my own garden and fed it to my family.  And they lived.

Yes.  Stand in awe.

6)  We are in the process of determining which hens are laying eggs and which hens are being freeloaders.   This is not an easy task, my friends.  We have converted some old rabbit hutches into temporary chicken coops and the little ladies have a few days to produce an egg or its, and excuse me for lack of a better term, off with their heads!

7)  Stand down, readers!  This is all my husband’s doing.  If it were up to me, I would probably own the Happy Hens Retirement Community and go into debt feeding geriatric hens.

8)  I visit said hens daily and beg, nay, plead with them to please, please, PLEASE produce an egg.  Because I am so not ready to cook a real chicken.  Oh, sure.  I cook chicken all the time.  But, you know, the normal ones from Costco that come all clean and feather-free in a freezer bag.

Chicken Farming.  Not for the faint of heart.

9)  I am getting a bit nervous about teaching Handsome Dude kingergarten.  Here’s a little sampling on the dudes and their differences.

Handsome Dude (age 5)

Me:  Dude, let’s practice writing your letters.

HD:  Ok!

Me:  Let’s write your name.

HD:  OK!

Me:  Oh!  You are holding your pencil wrong again.  Let’s try it this wa-

HD:  IT’S TOO HARD!  I CAN’T DO IT!  NO!  NO!  NO!

And the boy is in the fetal position under the table.

True story.

Little Dude (age 4)

LD:  Mom!  What should I spell?

Me:  Um, bat.

LD:  Ok.  B . . . A . . . T !  What’s next?  Oh, I know!  ZOO.  Z . . .O . . . O because two “O’s” say “ooooh” right, Mom?  RIGHT?  MOM!  RIGHT?

Me:  Right.

LD:  Mom!  M . . . O . . . M!

Raise your hand if you think I should trick the boys into thinking it is really Little Dude starting kindergarten this year?

10)  To put my mind at ease, I started the boys on a little Math U See today.

I am happy to report that BOTH boys did excellent and got a 100%

Handsome Dude

Little Dude

Lest any of you other homeschooling marms think I am all that and a bag of chips, please, let me inform you that I will probably forget all about my new plans to teach the boys math until mid-September.

Remember.  There is still weeding to be done.

Want to know how to bribe your kids into doing some extra weeding?

Tell them that afterwards, they can go to the beach!

What’s that?  Oh! I’m sorry!  Have I not mentioned the massive amounts of WEEDING we have been doing around here?  My bad.  I’ll try to fill you in.  But first, let us discuss Little Dude and his confusion regarding the underwear/swim trunks sitch.

Ah, yes. Classy. The tighty-whities pulled up past the Cars swim trunks.  It is a trend that is sure to catch on.

Hey.  I have four kids.  One of them is bound to leave the house with someone on wrong, backwards, inside out, or . . . extra.

The kids had a lovely time at the lake, per usual.

Weeds.

Not only have we been battling with our garden weeds, we have also begun to attack the driveway weeds.  And as we were attacking the driveway weeds, we noticed that there are basically weeds covering the entire 20 acres of which we call home.

Discouraging, yes?

So, today I spent 1 1/2 hours spraying weeds in the driveway and another 2 1/2 hours in the garden and I don’t want to go outside anymore today and find anymore weeds because it will force me to crawl into a corner and suck my thumb.

In other, not as traumatic news, yesterday was our wedding anniversary!

Were not we cute?

We have been married for 12 years.

12!

That’s crazy talk.

We had a delightful, albeit busy, anniversary celebration that lasted from 10am Saturday morning until 8pm Sunday night.  And get this-we were KIDLESS.

Please.  Try to contain your jealousy.

Since I am certain you care deeply about all the goings-on of this fun-filled weekend, I shall present the activities completed in a list form.

Hold on to your pants, folks.  David and I live one wild and crazy life.

1.  Took our sweet, new minivan to the mechanic to get one minor thing looked at.

2.  Get rolled at the mechanic and spend all the monies getting it fixed.

3.  Took a load of stuff to the dump.

4.  Went to lunch.  Yum!

5.  Cleaned our loathsome rental.

6.  Picked up our stupid minivan.

7.  Went to a thrift store to buy a new frying pan for our loathsome rental.  No.  We don’t skimp on costs for our high-class rental.  Why do you ask?

8.  Went to Walmart to buy an air mattress and cleaning supplies for our loathsome rental.

9.  Stop by loathsome rental and switch out laundry.

10.  Go to the movies.

11.  Eat a ridiculous amount of popcorn.  Seriously.  Our popcorn addiction is out of control.

12.  Go to loathsome rental and switch out laundry.

13.  Go home.  Check on 14 billion animals with flashlights.  Wash eggs.

*Sunday*

14.  SLEEP IN

15.  Feel badly for sleeping in.  There are weeds to be pulled, people!

16.  Pull weeds.  Eat lunch.  Head to loathsome rental.

17.  Stop by loathsome rental and switch out laundry.

18.  Hit the beach!  Now, this was a treat, folks.  Do you know how awesome it is to go to the beach and READ a book and NAP and NOT have to stare at children and make sure no one is drowning and perform random head counts?  Do you?  DO YOU?

I don’t think you do.

It is incredible.

19.  Get an ice cream cone.  Because, have you met us?

20.  This one might surprise you-stop by loathsome rental to switch out laundry.

21.  I am not sure if you are picking up on it or not, but my tone is supposed to be hinting at a bit of  vexation on my behalf regarding the rental.  Of which I find loathsome.  FYI.

22.  Dinner out at our favorite Greek restaurant and-BONUS-it was NOT belly dancer night.

23.  *phew!*

24.  Switch out laundry at the loathsome rental.

25.  Pick up children.  *tear*

26.  Oh, I am just kidding.

27.  Kind of.

28.  Stop by loathsome rental and switch out last load of laundry.  Because that wasn’t time consuming at all.

29.  Stop and get everyone a little fro-yo for the ride home.

And thus ends our extravagant weekend.  It was actually quite wonderful and I had a lovely time hanging out with my main man.

Even if we did have to pull weeds and get through about 18 loads of laundry.  He did, after all, buy me a Moose Tracks ice cream in a waffle cone.

He completes me.

Happy Monday!

Ok.  Hello?  Hello?  Do you remember me?  I used to blog here, but then my husband created this ginormous garden, you see, and, well, the garden is killing “free-time Taylor.”

I better reap some delicious produce, I’ll tell you that right now.

Weeds.

My fingernails have dirt all up inside them and it will be there for all eternity, I just know it.  My pointer finger on my right hand has lost nerve cells or something and even typing out this very pointless post in which you are currently reading is bringing me a bit of strife.

It is a good thing I am hearty ranch wife and not dramatic at all, isn’t it?

I need help, folks.  My husband planted the garden and then he put a stake (not steak.  Homophones!  They get you every time!) and stuck the seed packet on the top.

Like so:

But herein lies the problem:

The wind doth bloweth many of the seed packets away.  This has resulted in:

The Great Garden Mystery of 2012

Because, have you heard?  This is my first garden and I am an ignorant fool.  So, would you, kind reader, take a moment to help me ascertain what it is I am growing?   Por favor?

Let us go through each plant.  And I expect you to feign excitement.  I am typing this out with my injured weed-pulling finger and all.  The least you could do is act like you care.

1)  Cantaloupe

This one is a no-brainer.  Wanna know why?  Because I  planted it.  And the wind didn’t blow my little cheat sheet away.

Neener, Neener, Lumberjack.

2)  This one is possibly zucchini.

What say you?

3)  I am going to go with cucumber on this one?  Thoughts?

4)  I am fairly certain on this one:

Pumpkin.  Of the pie persuasion.

Please don’t tell me otherwise.  It will totally rock my world.

5)  This one is a mystery.

We are thinking we planted broccoli, cauliflower, and watermelon somewhere, but have yet to find them in our finely weeded garden that has no sticks whatsoever.

So perhaps the mystery plant is one of the missing plants?

Yes?

No?

Yes?

6)  We have two different types of lettuce.  For we are uEber healthy.

Look!  It is hay!  For to smother any more weeds that might try and ruin my summer!

Ha!

Taylor: 1

Weeds: 0

7)  Spinach.

BAM!

Nailed it.

8 )  Cilantro

9)  This one was a mystery . . .

until I used the power of “The Google Images” and decided that it was . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

carrots!

Look at me and my produce identifying self!

10)  Sugar snap peas

This is by far our most producing crop.  I sure hope we like them.

11)  Green Beans

Those little beauties are the primary reason I bought a pressure canner.  My mother in law scared the snot out of me with her stories of “Green Bean Botulism.”

Maybe I will just feed them all to the rabbits.  That will solve two of my problems in life.

Botulism.  Check.

40 billion rabbits.  Check.

Kidding!  Or am I?

12)  Corn!

That was an easy one.

13)  Strawberries

14)  Blueberries

15)  Tomatoes

Fun Fact:  Our family doesn’t eat tomatoes.

True story.

16)  Raspberries

17)  Blackberries

The garden is right next to the rabbits’ new locale.  And while I am weeding, which is hardly EVER, sometimes I get a glimpse of some little babies.

And zoom.

And zoom. (Yes.  I got photog skills.  Or skillz.  Whichever you prefer.)

Yes!  It is true!  Our rabbits have finally, *ahem*, started doing what *ahem* rabbits do.  And we didn’t even have to pump out some Marvin Gaye to help them along!  Win!

***

Before I go, I thought I would share a couple of cute pictures of the children that I took today.

You’re welcome.

Sweet Pea reading to Handsome Dude, all while snuggling Peter the Cat.

Which is interesting since I made a new law that Peter the Cat was no longer allowed in the house.

My authority is feared by my children.  Obviously.

Daisy Mae reading to Little Dude:

Why, yes!  I am glad you noticed!  Little Dude does have chocolate all over his face.

This is a result of one of two things:

1)  His mother did not notice

2)  His mother does not care.

You pick.

Alright!  If you could be so kind as to tell me what your think the mystery produce is, I would be much obliged.

Later, dudes.

I am SO tired.  And here are today’s top ten.

You may ask:  “Taylor!  Top Ten what?”

I have no idea.

1)  We have weeds.  Lots of them.  I pulled weeds for six hours today.

Six.  SIX.  SIX.

See those rows?  Them are half rows.  We have at least 40 full rows, maybe more.

Excuse me?  I believe we wanted a large garden?

Hello!

I so tired.  And discouraged.  Isn’t gardening supposed to be an enjoyable hobby?

Because I want to burn it to the ground.  True story.

2)  Pop Quiz?  What is this plant:

A pumpkin or a watermelon?  I can’t remember what I planted there.  Ha!

Please don’t say it’s a weed.  Please don’t say it’s a weed.

3)  I made this recipe this week.  It was yummy.

Chicken Pad Thai from Lauren’s Latest

Check it out, my internet friends.

4)  All day long I have wanted to read my book.  It is not going to happen.  The weeds are eating my fun.

5)  Look at what my crafty sister in law, Lisa, made me for my birthday:

The item on the left is for to hang necklaces.  (It hangs on the wall horizontally)

The item on the right is for to hang earrings.

Look at Lisa and her crafty self!

6)  Speaking of Lisa and all things crafty, I am heading to her house on the morrow for a Pinterest day with her and my other sis in law, Amy.

We are planning on making these:

Image source and link to original post

My one job is to bring the chicken wire.  Which just shows what kind of gal I am.  And isn’t that sad?  That I am now the go-to gal for chicken wire? I was a bit worried about the aforementioned craft because David always takes his wire cutters to work with him.  And every good rancher knows you need wire cutters.  For to cut the chicken wire.

No fear!  My handy sister in law, Lisa, has a pair of her own.

I will never be as cool as her.

7)  Did you know chickens can dig holes?  Ask me how I know.

8)  David is going to be home late.  Again.  I am hoping he will get an epiphany to bring home some ice cream.

9)  Since you all just asked how I knew that chickens can dig holes, I will tell you.

I see them.

You see, dear readers, I can see the chickens from my bedroom window.  They will oft dig small little holes and sit in them throughout the day.  Well, today, I noticed at least fifteen chickens who decided to allow themselves to become “free-range” without my permission.

Turns out, they dug a hold under the fence and burrowed their way to freedom.  My girls herded the chickens back in, and I, the strong Lumberjill that I clearly am, filled in the hole.

Then I went and weeded the garden.  Because, have you heard?  Weeding is the bane of my existence.  And it is sucking all the joy out of my life.

10)  I gave all four kids haircuts yesterday.  I would describe them as:

“eh.”

The girls are ok.  The boys are a bit iffy.  And if someone could please, PLEASE tell me how to cut a boys’ hair with scissors and NOT with an electric trimmer, I would be forever grateful.

But anyways.

I was so proud of myself for saving some cash.  Because you know.  Sometimes we feel poor.

Well.  It’s a good thing I saved that haircut money because, guess what!  The TV broke at our loathsome rental and we had to go buy a new one last night.

Because a brand, spanking new TV is quite comparable in costs to four kids haircuts that look mediocre at best.

So, tell me dear readers.

1)  Do you cut your kids’ hair?

2)  How does it look?  Really?

3)  Am I growing pumpkins or watermelons?

4)  Do you want to come weed my garden?

5)  Do you have your own wire cutters?

6)  Do you have a supply of chicken wire to impress your crafty friends with?

Good Day.

If you are anywhere on or around a diet, you need to close your eyes and scroll past the first portion of today’s thrilling entry.

Trust me.  You must!

If you, however, are like me and only diet on the third Tuesday of each month, feel free to read on.

(image source and link to recipe)

Oh.  My.  Lanta.  These are so good.  If you are ueber naughty like me and decide to check them out, do not fret if you do not have 8 squares of semi-sweet chocolate.  I mean, really.  Who has the squares lying around?  Not I.  I subbed a 12oz package of semi-sweet chocolate chips.  Divine!  Delicious!  Heavenly!

Perfect for the homeschool marm who is on summer break- and just might sneak them into her bedroom with a cup of coffee and a good book and LOCK THE DOOR  . . . just so she doesn’t have to share.  Not that I might know from experience.  Nope, nope, nope.

And, oh yeah!  Remember my plans to continue homeschooling fairly regularly throughout the summer so that my children would be brilliant and all peoples of all nations would rise and call me blessed?

I have a comment to make on that:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I mean, really.  Isn’t review what the whole month of September is for anyways?

Well.  I turned 31 since we last spoke.  It’s true.  My one mission on my birthday was to somehow get myself a moose tracks ice cream in a waffle cone.

It happened.

I had a lovely birthday.  My beloved bought me some awesome gifts-gifts that I, the former city girl, would have scoffed at years ago.  But now, these gifts make me all giddy-like.

I got . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

Six LARGE blueberry plants (I know!)

One tomato plant

One large, gorgeous hanging basket that elite people, unlike myself, usually have hanging on their porches.

Look at me and my elite, farmgirl self!

The tomato plant might be puzzling to some seeing as how our family does not eat tomatoes.  But I have great plans, my friends.  Plans that include making, and canning, my own spaghetti sauce.

Because I am 31 now.  And these are the tasks I must do.

Sweet Pea bought me a gold pie server at an antique mall.  She was SO excited and I told her I would treasure it forever, seeing as how I have no gold utensils whatsoever.  My mother bought me 3 beautiful blue canning jars and let the girls give them to me.  Because, have you heard?  Blue canning jars are all the rage.  Mother also got me the Pampered Chef covered baker and I am seriously on cloud nine.  My sis in law made me a cool necklace and earring holder that I shall have to share with you.  But not today.  It wouldn’t be prudent.  And I got gobs of other good things, but we must forge on.

Let us look at some photos of this blessed weekend, shall we?

Here are some pictures from when mother and I “Hoed with Rosa.”  As most people do with their mothers.  Naturally.

The boys.  Precious, as always.

(ha!  Hello?  Have you read this blog?)

The girls.  Enjoying some ice cream.

Back to my birthday!  Because, it is all about me and my special day.  To get the aforementioned cone of ice cream, we went to the park that amuses us.  It was a fun day for all.

Waiting in line.

(Daisy Mae and David ditched us to ride some roller coasters)

(Lumberjill does NOT ride roller coasters.  She hasn’t been able to handle them since she was 17)

(Sadly, upon turning 31, even the carousel made Lumberjill ill.  Because Lumberjill is old.  Apparently)

Sweet Pea and Little Dude taking a country drive.

Fun, fun!

Today, I ordered a pressure canner.  Not to be confused with a canner, nor a pressure cooker.

A PRESSURE CANNER.

Apparently, it is everything I need in this life.

Stand down, naysayers!  I don’t need one more person warning me that said pressure canner might blow up in my face.  You are all killjoys.  I wash my hands of it.

I am going to can green beans!

And dried beans, like pinto, black, and kidney!

And perhaps soups!

And maybe even elk meat!

My joy overfloweth.