The Lumberjack's Wife

Big, fat snowflakes on May the 2nd?

Why not?  We are from the hearty north.

Bring it.

I might have to build a fire.  This is tragic because:

A)  I don’t want to build no fire.

B)  I am not sure if we have kindling.

C)  I am not strong enough to split my own kindling.  Trust me.  I’ve tried.

D)  When I don’t have kindling, I have to go and forage in the woods and find sticks and twigs.

E)  I am not in the mood to forage.  I have a sore throat.

F)  I don’t want to build no fire.

But, alas.  I am freezing.  It’s a quandary.  I will state this:  I am a better fire-starter than The Mister, of this you can be certain.  But he is the kindling splitter, so it all evens out.

And none of that has to do with anything.  So, you’re welcome for that weather update.

Yesterday was going to town day.  And a wretched day it was.  Handsome Dude normally goes to preschool on Tuesdays.  He came home from preschool on Monday with a note saying the next day (Tuesday, May 1st), was “Muffins with Moms and Dads.”

Hello, short notice?

Well, we had some appointments in the big city that is in a completely different locale from the rural town in which he is schooled and I could not cancel them.  The thought of my boy being at school and watching all the other children’s parents feasting on muffins with their young while had was sitting all alone was more than I could bear.  So I did what any decent, responsible mother would do.

I kept him with me.

And wouldn’t you know it, but that boy gave me T-R-O-U-B-L-E the entire day?  It all started when the boys were “playing” downstairs.  They came up with HD’s glasses in two separate pieces, yet no one seemed to have any clue as to how the glasses came to be in this state.

My boys.

Poster Boys for Honesty.

That is an extremely old picture.  And I care not.  If I am too lazy to build a fire, you can be assured that I am too lazy to go and take a picture of my boys right now.

So.  My boy could not wear glasses.  Which is a crying shame because without them, his eyes are crossed.  We had several things to do in the big city, and the visit to the Optical Shop would have to wait.

This was unfortunate on so many levels.  Turns out when my boy can’t see, he turns into Mr. Naughty-Pants.  It was a battle with him all day and I could go on and on with several examples of just how he was pushing my buttons, but in the interest of keeping this post somewhat short, let’s just say if I told him to do something, he would do the complete opposite.

Our final stop before getting his glasses fixed was Walmart.  I know you are going to think that I am super cruel for not going to get glasses fixed before Walmart, but Walmart is in a different town than the Optical Shop and the girls’ had piano lessons, so I go to Walmart while they are at lessons.  Clear as mud?

Good.

Handsome Dude had already pushed all of my buttons and then some.  When we were in line to pay, he wanted to put the items from the cart onto the line.  I told him to wait.  He tried to anyways.  I told him no.  He tried again.  I told him no.

Yet, he did it anyways.  And I didn’t catch it this time, but he managed to dump the entire bag of apples all over the floor.

The floor of the Walmarts.

I started off with six apples.  I only found four.

He also managed to put a hole into the bag, so I had no bag to put the apples in. So there they sat, all exposed-like on the bottom of the, what we can presume to be, germ-infested cart.

Yes.  The cart.  From the Walmarts.

I had to wait until I got up to the cashier to ask for a new bag.  He gives me one and I am thoroughly grossed out by these apples at this point in time.  No offense to Mr. Cashier, but he looks a bit shady to me, so I am even more grossed out when he reaches in to the bag, takes out an apple with his bare hands, and scans it.

So basically, I bought apples just to throw them away.  Because you just can’t recover from that folks.  You just can’t.

So, I was in a mood by the time I got to the Optical Place.  And if anyone has the right to be annoyed at me, it is these people.  These people, whom we visit on a weekly basis, go to great lengths to ensure my son can see.  I was so emotionally fragile at this point in the day, (you know, because I had to wonder why on earth God decided I could be a parent?) and I was certain that if I got the criticism I deserved for the state of the glasses, my eyes would become a well-spring of tears.

But, no.  They were kind, as usual.  They put all sorts of temporary stuff on the glasses to hold them together so the boy could see and *hopefully* stop causing me such distress in life.

Apples!  Ahh!

While we were there, the man fixing the glasses-Bob, my bff, informed me that I should get Rec Specs for HD.  Because, guess what?  We have another appointment on Friday at the doctor and the doctor said his prescription will most likely change.

New Prescription=New Glasses

New Glasses=Lots of Money

The Rec Specs are not handsome.  My son will, most assuredly, look like a space man.  But apparently, they do not break.  Ever.

So, I am trying to get over myself and come to grips that my boy probably needs to look like a space man until he goes to college and can buy his own eye wear.

So, dear readers.

1)  Tell me its ok for the boy to look like a Star Wars character.

2)  Fun Fact:  I have never seen Star Wars.  Have you?

3)  Can you split kindling?

4)  Is it snowing in your neck of the woods?

5)  Would you eat them apples?

Happy Wednesday.

 

 

 

Special thanks again to Kimberly for making this badge for me back in the day!

Wow!  There were a lot of you that said you were up for joining me on this funky adventure!  This will be fun.  Or fun-ish.  Or horrific.  Only time will tell.

I am going to use Fat Tuesdays as accountability.  I am terrible at sticking to something and following through.  Therefore, I never see results on anything and I just give up.  So, I figure if I try to commit to something for the entire month of May, I am sure to see some sort of result?  One can only hope.

I would like to lose a few pounds, but that is not my biggest worry.  I am not very fit, and would like to be in better shape.  I am also desiring to make healthier meals for my family. 

So, I am going to use the month of May to meet the following goals:
1)  Follow Weight Watchers.  I don’t plan on doing this forever, but I would like to do this to jump start things.

Fun Fact:  My mother has lost somewhere around 55 pounds via the Weight Watchers and has kept it off for two years.  She was even offered a job with them.

Funner Fact:  I feign to be on Weight Watchers and lose 2 pounds/gain 2 pounds for all eternity.  No one has offered me a job in about 10 years.

2)  Actually record what I eat in Weight Watchers.  Turns out Weight Watchers only works if you follow the plan!  Who knew?!

3)  Do some sort of exercise for 30 minutes 5 days a week.  This will be hard for me to accomplish with homeschooling and all the farm and ranch chores we got going on.  Plus I hate exercising.  It will be a HUGE BUMMER.  It will be DEVASTATING.  It will be BORING.  It will be SWEATY.  Yet, I shall press on.

4)  Come up with a good list of healthy dinners my family enjoys.   I will use this month to experiment with new recipes and maybe even tweak some of our favorites.

So, there you have it!  An inspiring fitness post if there ever was one!  I am going to weigh in on Tuesday mornings.  I will NOT be telling you how much I weigh, as much as I like you all.  I shall also be measuring my tummy to see if anything is disappearing down there.  It probably won’t.  But here’s to hoping!

If you would like to join in, you can “check in” in the comments section below.  If you have any healthy recipes or tips, or would like to check in via your blog, just share the link in the comments section.

Thanks!

Anyone interested in doing Fat Tuesday again with me?  Does anyone remember Fat Tuesday?  Is anyone even reading this?

Blogging.  Not for the paranoid.

Well, here’s the sitch.  I am feeling like I need to get fit.  Because, hello?  I’ve never really been “fit,” per say.  A long time ago, I started Fat Tuesday on this blog and people could check in on Tuesdays to see if they were meeting their goals.  Anywho, I was thinking of starting something up again.  And since misery loves company, I thought I would see if any of you would like to join me.

My plan is to set some goals and try with all my might to stick to something . . . anything . . . for one full month.

You may proclaim:  “Taylor!  One full month?!  There’s no way you can do it!”

True, readers.  True.

But perhaps this time I shall.

So.  Here’s the deal.  I will post some fitness/eating goals tomorrow for my first Fat Tuesday post.  I shall try my best to also be trying out healthy recipes and posting them on here.  You can join me if you’d like.  Or you can tune in on Tuesdays and giggle as each week I post things such as:

“Shoot!  I totally forgot I was supposed to be exercising all week!”

“Oops!  Ate three scoops of ice cream . . . twice.”

“Oh!  Is it Tuesday already?!  I gained weight.  Again.”

Come on.  You can’t deny that I am inspiring.  Perhaps I shall be the next Jillian Micheals?

One can only hope.

But I would love it if you would like to join me!

Also, I am in need of some advice:

Shall I:

1)  Try running?

2)  Do the 30 day shred (oh for humanity!)?

3)  Do my eliptical trainer?

4)  Zumba it up?

Fun Fact:  I’ve had 5 knee surgeries.  So bear that in mind.

Okie dokes!  Let me know if you are in.

Or not.

The choice is yours.

When we first moved out here, we had Mabel.

Three months later, Mabel died of kidney failure.  We were all very sad-Mabel had been with us for ten years.

To cheer the kids up, we got Lucy.

Oh, don’t let that cute puppy face fool you.  That dog turned into nothing but trouble.  She quickly earned the nickname: “LucyFur.”  Do you get it?  Do you get it?

LucyFur was a wild beast that could not be tamed.  She was running around the “neighborhood” (and I use the term “neighborhood” quite loosely) chasing horses and cows and all sorts of large, expensive animals that owners tend to get a bit sensitive about.  We had to find a new home for Lucy before she got shot.

So, in short, we used to be a one pet family.  Not quite sure how this happened, but we currently have 70-80 animals.

Let us take a tour of Le Zoo Maliblahblah, shall we?

First, we have rabbits.  And lots of them.  Currently, we have 40, but at one point we had around  120.  Because, have you met my husband?  He is insane.

The kids and I have gotten to loathe the rabbits.

Rabbits are freaky.  If you think rabbits are all sweet, kind, and innocent, well, you have been misinformed my friend.

You have been misinformed.

The dads eat the babies.

The moms will eat the babies if the baby has a problem.

If the mom is hungry, cold, or scared, she will abandon her litter.

And then eat them.

They rip their hair out to create nests, sometimes drawing blood.

I’m telling you.  It’s horrifying over here.

Plus, we are plum sick of them.

But for some reason, my husband dreams of being a rabbit farmer.  Because, haven’t you heard?  Farming rabbits brings you great wealth and prestige.  The problem is that our rabbits aren’t breeding.

?

We are simply at a loss as to how to encourage such amorous activities between rabbits.  Perhaps we need to play some Marvin Gaye songs to help set the stage?

But don’t worry.  We take good care of our rabbits, even though we loathe them.

See?  Nothing but smiles.

Oh, and we totes don’t eat them.  We sell them.  Did you really think I could eat rabbit?  Hmmm?

Hmmm?

Next up is chickens.

I kind of like the chickens.  They are pretty low maintenance.  I have yet to touch one, however, as I find their wing-flapping to be a bit unsettling.

They do leave me lovely presents everyday.

Of which I am too disturbed to eat, because, have you heard?  I was never meant for country life.

We had turkeys for about a week.

But they were disturbing, to say the least.  They are in the freezer, which is better than their previous position of guarding the eggs and threatening us with instant death, what with their freaky, blue heads and slimy, dangly things.

Of course, I won’t be able to eat the turkeys.  But I am sure someone will.

And what is a farm without your trusty dogs?

We have the world’s laziest dogs-a nice change from LucyFur.

Tank

Miley

And don’t forget Peter the Cat!

We also have a goldfish but this post has gone on long enough and I have no ambition to find a picture.

So, there you have it.  A zoo.

How many animals do you have?

Happy Monday!

 

I have been working outside all day with my husband.  My leg muscles (yes!  I have leg muscles!  Who knew?!) are tingly and my arms feel like Jello.  I have tilled no less than 4,000 pounds of rabbit poo into my future garden.  My shoes are stinky.

Building fences and tilling gardens.  Not for the faint of heart.

I was just about to fall asleep when I remembered my dumb, needy blog and the letter “Y” post that had yet to be written.  Darn it all.  So, I made my husband fetch the computer because I did, afterall, dig trenches and the like today and he hardly lifted a finger.

I kid!  I jest!  He is the muscles behind all of the goings on here.

I also forced him to basically come up with today’s post.  Because he cares a lot about blogging, didn’t you know?

A few days ago, I posted a list about how my husband has changed from when I first met him.  Lisa commented:

I think you should have the LJ do 10 points on how you’ve changed . . . it’d be mighty interesting!

Brilliant idea, Lisa!  So, without further ado, here is a list of how David says I have changed since when he first met me:

1.  She digs ditches and does more physical labor outside.

2.  She doesn’t shop at Abercrombie and Fitch of Gap anymore.

3.  She owns rabbits and chickens.

4.  She knows how to drive a 4-wheel drive vehicle.

5.  She knows what a fertilized egg is.

6.  She now knows the difference between a cow, bull, and a steer.

I used to, but I forgot.  But we’ll let him think I remembered.  I think a steer is “less of a man” than a bull.  But who really cares?  Honestly.

7.  She lives in Ruralville and not in a subdivision.

8.  Her hair is darker.

9.  She knows how to can food.

10.  She makes her own bread.

So, there you have it.  A most exciting post on a Saturday night if there ever was one.

I am absolutely exhausted and have a cold something fierce.  I need to get some beauty sleep so the fun can continue tomorrow.

Goodnight, all!

No.  That’s totes not cheating either.

I am feeling cranky today . . . eXasperated, if you will.  Here is a list of all the irksome things that are irking me today.

1.  I haven’t been sleeping well.  I blame Peter the Cat.  He has been attacking my head in the night, because, apparently, my head is a ferocious beast.

Have you ever been sound asleep and have a kitten, who imagines himself to be a fierce lion, pounce on your head?

It’s a treat.  Please experience it immediately.

2.  I cannot be certain, but we all might be getting sick.  This is never fun.

3.  Somebody stole the lawn mower from our rental house.

Hooligans.

4.  I have to drive the truck into town tonight.  This is always stressful for me.  Remember the last time I had to take the truck?

5.  The chickens keep getting out.  I find this quite vexing.  I wouldn’t care, but Tank and Miley, our faithful dogs, find it to be their duty to slaughter all chickens.

One chicken has died, two have been saved, albeit slightly chewed on.

6.  I have been cleaning our rental.  Cleaning up after other people in a house that used to be your own is always disconcerting.  I found some “questionable paraphernalia.”

And we’ll just leave it at that.

7)  The kids keep closing the door to the bathroom where the kitten’s litter box is.  Thusly (is thusly a word?  I care not), the kitten has been leaving me special presents around the house.

You know what’s fun?  I found poop on the floor by the toilet and I had to try and ascertain whether it was:

A)  Little Dude

B) Handsome Dude

C)  Tank

D)  Miley

E)  Peter

That was quite the investigation, let me tell you.

So.  I am going to make some tea with honey to soothe my poor, scratchy throat and show you some pictures.

Please try and feign interest.

From Left to Right:  Miley, Peter, Little Dude, and Sweet Pea.

Pop Quiz Hot Shots:  How many items can you find in this picture that AREN’T put away?  Which is odd since the children assured me all their messes had been cleaned up.

Fun Fact:  Little Dude walks around the house repeat/shouting:

“Children (except it sounds like “Trilldren”) obey your parents in da Lord.”

And, yet, he does not.  Ever.  Nope.

Daisy Mae and I are trying out a new curriculum for grammar, as if her life could not be any more exciting.  She begged and begged all morning to do it.

So, we did it.  And at one point she had to use a dictionary and I don’t think her day could have gotten much better.

Me:  Why are you so happy?

Daisy Mae:  I just LOVE dictionaries!

I know, I know.  It’s probably because she is homeschooled.  Note to self: need to get the child out more.

Alright.  That’s all I got.  Aren’t you glad you made the trip over to my blog today?  I didn’t waste your time at all, did I?

Tell me, dear readers:

1)  Got any plans for the weekend?  We are (surprise, surprise) working on more fencing.

2)  Do dictionaries rock your world?

3)  Have you ever had a kitten attack you at 2am?

4)  Do you like driving ginormous, fickle trucks with a manual transmission and four “spirited” children?

Later gators.

 

This posting-everyday-nonsense is kicking my hiney.  I can’t do it!  I repeat!  I can’t do it!  There are kids to be schooled, fish to be flushed, eggs to be gathered, and turkeys to be butchered.

And would not BELIEVE what my floors look like right now.

Marian came up with “Waldo” for “W” and I could just kiss her.  It reminded me of this post from the days of yore.  And, yes.  I am reposting.  Again.  No!  It is not cheating.  It is called “Thinking Outside the Box.”  And it is brilliant.

This post was written two years ago-David and I took a trip to Cancun without kids to celebrate our 10th anniversary.  I wrote a plethora of posts regarding the trip, but this one was conveniently named “Where’s Waldo.”  Which works out quite well for my “W” day.

***

(originally written on March 2, 2010)

Alright.

So, we boarded the plane and no arrests were made.

(Confused? Click here to catch up!)

When we finally made it to Cancun, we had to wait in line at customs for 2 entire hours. And I had not eaten lunch. These sorts of things make me cranky.

We finally made it through all the rigamaroo and we tried to leave the airport.

But, no. That would not be an easy task. This was when all the kind peoples stopped us to ask us if we were honeymooners.

Don’t they understand that Taylor gets cranky when she has not eaten?

We get to our hotel and after a very confusing check-in procedure, they slap on our all-inclusive bracelets and send us on our way.

Food!

This means we can eat!

But, wait.  We must get stopped again.

And now, dear readers, I present to you:

Our Conversation with the 9th person to stop and ask us this very question on this hungry, hungry day:

“Hola, honeymooners! Welcome!”

“No, no. Not our honeymoon.”

“What!? Why are you here?”

“Anniversary.”

“Bien! Bien! Verde muchos los tortillas muy bienvenidos!”

Interruption: I am simply making stuff up here.

Reminder: Me no habla espanol and me no remember espanol.

“Yes. Our 10 year anniversary!”

“What!? No, no no! How old are you, sir?”

“29”

And, no.

He does not care how old I am.

“You look so young, Senor! I am 31 and have one bambino.”

Interruption: 100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can tell me what the Spanish word for baby is.

I went with bambino.

You go with your gut.

“We have four bambinos!”

“What? No!”

“Yes!”

“Tell me, Senors, are you going on any tours while in Cancun?

I would like to tour one of your fine restaurants, Senor Blabs-a-Lot.

“Um . . . maybe?”

“Well, if you book it with the hotel, you can receive 60%off the tour price! Does that sound good? No?”

“Yeah. Sounds great!”

“Ok. What time you want to come for meeting tomorrow? 8:30? 9:30?”

“Um . . . .”

“Just quick presentation for 90 minutes. You just listen. Then you get discount. You have credit card?”

Danger, Lumberjack! Danger! I sense a scheme!

“Yes.”

“Visa? Mastercard?”

“Um . . . Mastercard?”

“Muy bien! Muy bien! Ok. You leave me deposit of five U.S. dollars and if you come back you can have them back.”

Hmmm . . . .

“Alright. Here you go.”

Yes.

The Lumberjack handed him 5 $1 bills.

No.

I did not try to talk him out of it.

I was too hungry to care.

“Wonderful! Bien! Fajitas! Anaranjado! And if you need anything else you come find me, no?”

“Ok, sounds good!”

Can we eat now? Me no eat since 0400.

“My name is Waaaaaaaalllllllll-Do . . . ok?”

“Ok? What?”

“You know. Like funny American cartoon man with stripey shirt? Where am I? Where did I go?”

“Waldo! Right! Ok, Waldo! See you later!”

“Si! Waldo! Ok. One more thing Senor. Can I call you in the morning to remind you about your presentation?”

“Sure.”

“Wonderful! Miercoles! Frijoles! Adios!”

Now, folks.

It is the moment we have been waiting for.

Dinner.

Oh.

My.

Good.

Ness.

Do not put a starving girl in front of a delicious all you can eat buffet and tell her it is free.

And then don’t tell her there is also a menu she can order off of for free.

And please, please, have mercy upon her jeans and do not inform her that she can also order room service any time she would like.

For free.

It was a glorious meal.

And I ate.

A lot.

***

We go to the secret presentation meeting place where we are certain to be scammed.

No Waldo.

Where’s Waldo!?

Oh, I crack myself up.

A kind lady who seems up to par with Waldo’s shenanigans leads us to a secret waiting room.

Where we wait.

Then we have to follow a man named Carlos into the restaurant.

I like Carlos.

Carlos gets me.

Carlos: Please. Eat your breakfast. I wait presentation for you.

Sounds good, Carlos.

Sounds good.

Carlos: You like this place, no?

Us: Yes! It is very nice!

Carlos: And you like hotel, no?

Us: Lovely!

Carlos: Tell me. Just how important is travel to you. And do not consider money.

Mayday! Mayday!

Us: Um . . . well, we like it. It is hard to go. It gets expensive-

Carlos: No! Don’t consider money!

Well, Carlos.

I do not appreciate your tone.

LJ (Lumberjack. Keep up!): It is very important.

Carlos: That is what I thought. Where do you want to go in this life?

Us: Um . . . .

I want to go to the beach.

Carlos: Europe? Australia? Hawaii?

LJ: Maybe Alaska?

Carlos: Hmm . . . .but also Europe?

LJ: Ok.

Carlos: My job is to guarantee you 50 years worth of vacations. Would you like to go on vacations for 50 years?

Us: Um . . . .

Carlos: It does not matter to me where you go. Hawaii? Italy? It is your problem. You want to go to Disneyland? It is your problem. Not mine.

Ha! He kept telling me everything was “my problem.”  It was humorous.

Next, Carlos leads us to a secret pyramid located in our hotel.  Only the extraordinary members of this special and elite club are eligible to stay in this pyramid.

He shows us rooms that have kitchens and living rooms and hot tubs in them.

They are divine.

They are exquisite.

They are expensive.

Carlos leads us back to a secret club meeting room full of other potential club members.

Carlos has been studying us this whole time.

And Carlos has come up with the perfect vacation plan package for us.

And guess what!?

It is only $78,000 US dollars!

Amazing!

But, wait!

It gets better!

We only need to come up with $38,000 right now and then we can make monthly payments of $1800 from now until eternity.

I can see why they are offering us this package.

Clearly, we are . . .

Upper Class.

But, wait! There’s even more!

Everytime somebody else in that room joined this club, they would all cheer and pop open a bottle of champagne.

And this happened at least 3 times while we were in there.

Who are these people?

What do these people do?

Who can afford this stuff?

Where’s Waldo?

Sadly, we had to break it to Carlos, that no, we cannot afford his vacation plan.  Carlos was a nice guy. We felt bad that he wasted his time on us.

We held our heads up high, walked past the gloating rich peoples sipping their champagne, and collected our 5 $1 bills.

And did we get our discount on the tour?

You better believe it.

We did not sit through 2 hours of humiliation for nothing.

We milked that presentation for all it was worth . . .

and went snorkeling!

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ordered nachos by the pool.

Because they were free.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

And then it was time to eat again.

Before I go, I just must share with you this HI-larious picture.

Why, yes!  I’m glad you asked!  That would be a random local giving my husband bunny ears while I was trying to take his picture.

De Nada!

Bibliotecha!

Leche!

Fresa!