The Lumberjack's Wife

Apparently, summer is here.

Can you see that?  Snow on yonder mountain top?  Good times.

I decided to paint my man toes to get them all nice and ready for flip flops.  Oh!  Have I not told you?  My toes are hideous.  Anyways, I decided to get them all show-worthy and everything. Because eventually, it might be flip flop weather here.

It did not help.  Sadly, I was born with my father’s feet.  (Thanks, Dad)  There was no improvement on the man toes.  If anything, it just makes the ghastly beasts even more noticeable.  So it was nothing but a colossal waste of time.

The long, long days of summer hath begun.  David works longer hours during the summer.  In fact, word on the street is he won’t be home until 10pm.  Oh, the humanity!  I need to take up knitting.

So, how have we been filling up our time here on Maliblahblah farms?  I’m so glad you asked.

I started reading one of my favorite books again.  It is called “These is My Words:  The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine” by Nancy Turner.

I did my loathsome 50 push ups and other various exercises required by my pretend-friend, Erin, all by 8am.  And I am sore.  And sadly, not any fitter.

Is “fitter” a word?  I vote yes!

I tried to trick my friend MindyLouHoo into coming over.  She did not get the hint.

I did laundry.

I dusted.

I let the boys paint.

Which is always a good idea.  Handsome Dude happily announced that he was painting Santa Clause.  And, fun fact, he was actually painting a picture of the disciple “Judas.”  And why do I have random copies of Judas coloring pages lying about?  I ask you?

Little Dude paints with “All the colors, Mom!  ALL!  See?  SEE?  SEE, MOM?  SEE?!?!?  MOOOOM?!”

Little Dude turns four next week.  I shall have this day for mourning.

We found a bird’s nest in the BBQ.

Which is a fine locale for any bird home.

The boys cleaned up the loft.

They did a fine job, don’t you think?

The girls have a friend over.

Which means there is absolutely NO drama going on between Sweet Pea and Daisy Mae whatsoever.

I kid!  I jest!

We got drama to spare here, folks.

I am trying to get motivated to do some homeschool planning for next year, but I simply don’t want to.  I think I am going to be in denial that I shall be teaching three of them next year.

Yes.  Let us pretend like that is not actually happening.  Because, you know, I was so together with teaching two of them.  I am sure I will be able to handle three different grades quite efficiently.

Chicks are about to hatch on my kitchen counter.  And I have NO idea how to handle that sitch.

David!  Mayday!  Mayday!  Come home!

I miss him.

I like him.

It is a good thing to like the person you are bound to in matrimony, wouldn’t you agree?

Perhaps, if we all shout it at once, the electrician fairies will complete his work early for him and he will walk in this door in about an hour.

Because, hello!?  We live at least an hour from everything!

Ready?

One.

Two.

Three.

COME HOME, DAVID!

(I will let you know if it worked)

Later, dudes.

The girls have a rabbit.  Her name is Independent.  A lame name for a rabbit, don’t you think?  I prefer names like Scarlet O’HARE-A and Norma Jean Riley.  But, no.  They went with Independent.  Independent has a litter of kits.

Yes.  I just said “kits.”  Kits are what baby rabbits are called.  Consider yourselves informed.

Independent’s kits are the first surviving litter here at Maliblahblah farms in many months.  She has eight and they are thriving.

Sweet Pea thinks this is just fantastic and rubs her father’s nose in it all the time.  You see, dear readers, David can’t get the rabbits to, *ahem*, do what rabbits do.  So, basically, we are feeding scores and scores of rabbits and making zeros and zeros of dollars.  Because we are good with money, didn’t you know?

“Hey, Dad!  Are you jealous?  Are you jealous, Dad?  That we have babies and you DON’T?!  Huh, Dad?  Huh?“

Rest assured.  He is jealous.

Sweet Pea and Daisy Mae are planning on entering Independent in the county fair, where she is certain to win Grand Prize Champion.  This is based entirely on the fact that they feel she is awesome. Their plan is to then sell Independent’s kits on Craigslist with the title of:

Grand Prize Champion Rabbit Babies

And they are certain they will sell like million dollar hotcakes.  Of which they won’t, of course.  But we’ll let them have their moment.

***

I have nothing to blog about.  As usual.  I asked my friend, Erin, what I should blog about and she somehow talked me into doing push ups with her everyday.

?

I am pretty sure that throughout my entire life I have completed zero correct push ups.  And I am okay with that.  But here I am, stuck with doing push ups everyday and still nothing to blog about.

She’s tricky.

So, if this post is pointless to you, go blame Erin.

In other absolutely pointless news . . .

The chicken coop is painted!

Ain’t she a beaut?  She needs a star or a nice sign or something, doesn’t she?  What should the sign say?

Please Advise.

Yesterday, we went to town.  I am happy to report that we did NOT have to stop by the eye glasses repair place, which used to be a regular hot spot for us.

Holla, Space Man Glasses!

We also went to the dentist.  As the observant reader might have already deduced from the above photograph.

Yes.  I took all four at once to a new dentist.  Remember the old dentist office?  The office that mistook Handsome Dude, AKA Space Man, for a girl? On two separate occasions?  Because he looks so girly?  We are so over that dentist.  Except for David and I.  We still go there.  Because are gluttons for punishment.  But anyways.  We L-O-V-E-D the new dentist.  He saw all four kids at once and the appointment lasted only 1 hour and 20 minutes!

Holla, new dentist who correctly identified the gender of all four of my children!

Holla!

Let’s do a summary of phrases I heard to recap how well the appointment went:

  “Boy, you’ve for your hands full!” . . . . twice

“You are such a good listening boy!”  . . . . forty quadrillion (?!)

“Looks like this kiddo needs to floss, Mom!”  . . . four (bummer)

“Zero cavities!” . . . . four (neener, neener)

“Do they all have the same dad?”   . . . . ZERO

It was a successful trip.

After the dentist, we went and hung out with my friend MindyLouHoo, who was graciously accepting visitors at her parents’ house.  Ha!  That’s the way to do it, folks.  MindyLou is brilliant.  We sat and chatted and her delightful mother made cookies while her delightful father took the kids on pony rides!

MindyLou’s pa came up to me and said:

“The kids can ride a horse?  Dandy?”

And I nodded and happily replied:

“Yes!  That would be Dandy!”

Too bad the pony was named Dandy and I looked like a doofus.  But what else is new?

It was the highlight of their summer.  My kids are already begging to go back!  Oh, and summer must be over because the weather forecast yesterday was high of 37 and chance of rain and snow.  Ah, well.  It was fun while it lasted.

And before I go, we must discuss this here egg:

Pop Quiz, Hot Shots:

WHAT is going on with that egg?!

Do I have an alien hen?

What’s with the skid marks?  Or grooves?  Or whatever you would call it?

Can you still eat this sort of egg?

Do I even want to find out?

Perhaps I should just sell it to an innocent bystander.  Yes.  That sounds good.

And, no.  I don’t chew my nails.  Why do you ask?

Later dudes.

The company David works for gave us all passes to a nearby amusement park.  So on Monday, I took the kids to said park.  For to amuse them.

As we were walking in, I saw a huge stack of sheets of OSB!  And since this blog’s purpose is to keep you all abreast of all things construction, I thought I would take a picture.  For YOU.  You’re welcome.

See?  It does exist.  I speak the truth.  I asked my husband if it was the same as plywood and he said no.  Then I asked what the difference was.  And he explained it to me, but do you think I can recall what he said?  No.  No, I cannot.  I do remember him saying that OSB is more water-resistant, so it is better for a sub floor in places like bathrooms and laundry rooms.  And yes.  I just said sub floor.  Because every room needs TWO floors, didn’t you know?

Taylor’s blog.  Where you come to learn how to build houses.  Or not.

So, here are the kids enjoying themselves and all.

Please take notice of Handsome Dude’s still-intact Space Man Goggles.  Sadly, I have not seen my BFFs at the eye glasses repair place in many days.  I am sure we are all having separation issues.

I have still not notified my girls that school, for the year, has ended.  Aren’t I the worst?  We are taking things pretty easy, though.  I just want to keep things fresh in their minds, you know?  So they can be the most brilliant kids in the world and all peoples will rise and call me blessed.  Or something like that.

Alright.  Gotta go.

All four kids are going to the dentist today.  It is sure to be a treat.

Every morning, Handsome Dude wakes up, puts on his Space Man goggles, and finds Peter the Kitten.

He marches up the stairs, announcing the good news for all the world to hear:

“Peter is up!  Here comes Peter!”

Then he sits on the couch and cuddles his BFF.  Tis cute.

Here’s some updates.  For I know you long to be updated.

1)  Daisy Mae was the best helper when it came to building the new rabbit fences, therefore, she got to go on a special fishing trip with her dad.

The two of them brought home four perch that no longer have heads and are sitting in my fridge.

I would like the people to know that:

A)  I ain’t cooking them

B)  I ain’t eating them

Thank you.

2)  We started to paint the chicken coop yesterday.  I went with a brown/red.  It does not have the pizazz of a brilliant red I had originally hoped for, but it will do.

The trim of the roof is still the old color.  We will remedy this soon.  And when I say “we,” I , of course, mean David.

I can’t paint on a ladder!

We also decided to paint the sides white.  In case you cared.  But you probably did not.

It was pretty glamorous and all, standing in chicken poop and painting the coop.  A few brilliant chickens started pecking inside my paint can.  And did you know chickens can be afflicted with diarrhea?  True story.

Yes.  My yard is tidy and has no junk in it at all.  Thank you for noticing!

3)  For the past couple of months, the girls have been working hard to get ready for a live production they would be starring in.

Sweet Pea was in a skit and had quite a few lines to learn.  She did great, the fine actress that she clearly is.

There she is . . . spitting out lines like it ain’t no thang.

Daisy Mae was in the choir and took it quite seriously.

Afterwards, they ate gobs of ice cream and spun fiercely on the tire swing.  This resulted in Daisy Mae wailing and moaning the entire ride home.

And have you heard?  We have a LONG ride home.

4)  The other day, Daisy Mae was phoning Auntie Datenut.  And yes, I just said phoning.

She sat there for a long time.

Me:  Honey, are you getting her answering machine?

Daisy Mae:  No!  The phone is just making this weird sound over and over!

So, I listened and it was a busy signal!  She was sitting there listening to it for a few minutes. Ha.  My children had never heard a busy signal before.  It was pretty exciting for them.  And a trip down memory lane for your truly.

Happy Monday!

PS-Update from the last post:

Sheetrock:  Big white sheets of some sort of material (perhaps rock?  get it-sheetrock?ha.) that builder peoples, such as my husband, nail on to studs to create walls.

Do you know what a stud is?  Do you?

And not this stud:

The wall kind.

Anywho-you nail this big sheet to the studs and then you have to do something called mud and tape and all I know is David loathes that part.

And just like magic, it all turns into walls that you can paint whatever color you like!  But don’t pick peach.  Please.

OSB-  OSB looks like a bunch of wood chips glued to a big board.  I don’t remember what we used OSB for, but I kind of think it was used on the floor of our laundry room and perhaps we laid the tile down on top of it?
But what do I know?

Not much.

So, there you go.

And rest assured, if my husband reads this, he will be sorely disappointed in my building knowledge.

Sorely.

So, I have not made a family photo album since 2007.  Is that not sad?  I am trying to buckle down and get caught up, but I find this job to be quite tedious.  I was a good girl and got half of 2008 done last night and am already ready for another 5 year break.

The good news is, according to our photo albums, Little Dude was finally born!  The bad news is, if I stop, he will forever be frozen in time looking like this:

And we all know the lad is no longer that innocent.

Anyways, I was not blogging back then, so I thought it might be fun to share some old pics.  Please.  Try and feign excitement.

When I started looking through the pictures, I was reminded about all my frustrations with living in a fixer upper!  The reader might recall that before we moved to Ruralville, we lived in a house built in 1910 that David had gutted and was slowly putting back together.  This phase lasted for 7 years.

I was certain that house would never, ever, be finished.  I did not get a digital camera until 2007, so that’s when these pictures will start.  But let the records show:  we had been working on this house since 2003!

Baby Handsome Dude.  Please notice the wires and the unpainted sheetrock.

And before this whole funky house building adventure, I had no idea what sheetrock was.

Do you?

The girls on Sweet Pea’s first day of preschool.

Do you see that big sheet of OSB on the porch?  There was a giant hole in the front porch that I kept begging David to fix.  He just never found the time to get around to it.  So one day, I marched to the backyard and grabbed a sheet of OSB and threw it on the hole.  And there the OSB sat for many years.

What’s that?  You don’t have random building materials floating around your yard?  Odd.

And before this whole funky house building adventure, I had no idea what OSB was.

Do you?

The girls “helping” David work on the master bedroom.

Check out Sweet Pea’s “workboots.”

Classy.

Daisy Mae never stops talking.

Ever.

She’s probably talking right now while taking a shower.

There’s my main man!

I am pretty sure he still owns the same Carhartts.  The man has separation issues when it comes to Carhartts.

Did he have a goatee?

Will the reader please look at the above photo closely?  Notice the windows.  Every single window in our house looked like that for many years-unfinished with insulation peeking out.

It was an exciting day when David, the grand house builder that he is, installed all the window trim!

Here is a picture of the girls my the newly finished, newly painted living room windows.

Oh!  And baseboards, too!

And my husband did the floors.

Seriously.  He did it all.   Is there anything my main man can’t do?  Besides resist buying scores of chickens?

Here are just some cute shots.  You know.  To dazzle and delight.

The girls riding bikes in our old backyard.

I think this was 2007, so they would have been 4 and 3.

 Coloring Easter Eggs . . .

While Handsome Dude was contained in his high chair . . .

Ah, the glory days.

Fishing!

Hiking

(I was pregnant with Little Dude)

Mother’s Day

(Still pregnant.  FYI)

Baby Little Dude

Please notice:  Wires, unfinished back door, and no pantry door.

Because I sure noticed.

I also forgot these days . . .

It is hard to see, but there is a bench there and David always kept all his building materials there and I would try and keep the kids out of it.  David would come home from work and work on the house most evenings.

Why on earth did I take the above picture?  I was probably really, really, really tired.

Camping and hanging out at the river:

Sweet Pea

Daisy Mae

Handsome Dude

Camping and Wood Cutting:

(Notice the wood in the back)

Hiking

Fishing

Little Dude, the trooper that he was.

Sweet Pea’s first day of kindergarten . . .back in the days when I outsourced education!

And, yes.  The OSB is still there.

And that’s as far as I got in my photo albums!  Hopefully I will get some finished soon.

Happy Friday!

This week has been busy!  I decided to look up on the calendar when our last day of school was and guess what?!

It’s today!

Let us take a moment to stop and hear the angels singing.

We worked hard Monday and Tuesday to finish the new rabbit fences.  We have been using hutches, but decided to give them more of a fenced in yard so they can run around. We have been working on the fencing for their yards-we have five areas for them. Did you know we raise rabbits?  Yes. We are weirder than you think.  Tuesday we worked until 9pm to get it all finished up.

Towards the end, David had to pull the rabbits out and determine their gender before putting them in the appropriate stalls.

Sweet Pea is socializing with the rabbits who are awaiting an escort to their exciting, new locale.

Please notice the one rabbit who is about to make a jump for it.  He/She senses freedom.

No!

I do not know how to “sex” a rabbit.  We’ve been through this.  Don’t you people listen to me?

I opted to pick up tools and the like instead of stare into the private areas of a rabbit like my husband.  Clearly, I am the smarter one.

The kids were off the charts excited.

I don’t know why they found this so thrilling.  But they are homeschooled and don’t get out much, so what can you do?

The kids were so excited to visit the rabbits the next morning, so after breakfast they all went out to see them.  While I was doing the breakfast dishes, Little Dude came inside to inform me of the horrors that were ensuing outside.

Little Dude, shouting as per his usual custom:  MMMMOOOOMMM!  Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-Mom?  MOM!

Me:  Yes?

Little Dude (still shouting):  TANK AND . . . TANK AND . . . TANK AND . . . TANK AND MILEY ATE A WABBIT!

Me:  The dogs got a rabbit?!

Little Dude (about to explode from his own volume):  YES! AND THAT MAKES GOD SAD, RIGHT MOM?  RIGHT?  RIGHT?

Little Dude spoke the truth.  But the biggest problem was that the rabbit was not all the way dead.  It was going to die, but it was not there yet.

These are the things I did not sign up for, my friends.  I don’t think I can “put an animal out of its misery.”  Besides, I don’t have any suitable firearms.  Nor do I want any.  So while I started to panic over THAT issue, the girls got the naughty dogs into the house.

And then this is what I hear.

“Blood!  Blood is everywhere!”

Which is what every mother wants to hear.  I don’t know what happened, but Tank the Dog injured his foot while slaying the rabbit and was bleeding.  So I got the dog contained and the wound looked at, because I am Dr Quinn Medicine Woman now, and then looked at the rabbit sitch.

The rabbit died on its own.  Which is sad, but good, because I did not want it to suffer, but I did not want to have to figure out a way to kill it.

So, yesterday was full of much excitement and we didn’t start school until 10am.  And maybe I won’t complain about teaching math and grammar anymore because dealing with injured dogs and dying rabbits is much worse.

And that makes God sad, right readers?

Right?

RIGHT?

***

On Tuesday, I asked why Tamaracks were important.

Reader Wichiepoo got the answer right first:  Tamarack is, according to my lumberjack, the best firewood out there.

Holla, Wichiepoo!

***

Yesterday, when I was checking on the rabbits, I noticed this little bit of excitement:

See all that gray/white fluff?  That is rabbit hair.  But underneath it are six live newborn rabbits!

The astute reader might recall awhile back that the girls informed me of a rabbit giving birth.   I had asked David about it later that night, and he said no rabbits had been born.

I found this to be odd, but I forgot to talk to the girls about it.

So, yesterday, this was a little convo between Daisy Mae and I:

DM:  Mom, remember when we told you that mama rabbit was having babies?

Me:  Yeah?

DM:  Well, that was a boy.

Me:  What?

DM:  I asked Dad and that rabbit was a boy, not a girl!

Me:  But you said you saw babies coming out.

DM:  We thought so.

Me:  Hmmm . . .

DM:  Well, something was coming out down there!  I don’t know WHAT it was.

And I will leave that little disturbing statement to your imaginations, dear readers.

Homeschool.  Biology.  Check.