The Lumberjack's Wife

Not I.

I have nothing to say, but this does not surprise you.  Therefore, I shall take a whole bunch of random pictures from the past couple of weeks and just force you to feign enjoyment at looking at them.

You’re so very welcome.

Here’s a dandy.

Handsome Dude:  Mom!  There’s a TRICKEN in the WINDOW!

 I know what you are thinking.  “Taylor!  Enough with the chicken talk!  We get it!  You have chickens!”

But this is my life now.  Therefore, you will act like you care.  Just like you will pretend to enjoy this gem:

We have eggs coming out our ears.  I think we are getting over a dozen a day.  This did not impress the Mister, however.  He informed me that we should be getting more like two dozen a day.  Because he was in 4-H and has his “hoity-toity farm and ranch” pants on.   I, of course, was never in 4-H, and he likes to gloat over his superior poultry knowledge.  But I have better spelling and grammar skills.  Or skillz, if you are so inclined.

Little Dude.

This is Little Dude and Miley.  He calls her MileyGirl and is always following her around, the poor dear.  She is patient with him, but I think she finds him to be a bit smothering.  Little Dude will oft have dog hair stuck to his nose and always smells like dog now.  FYI.

We celebrated my niece and my dad’s birthday the other day.  Niece was a bit nervous about the whole “restaurant birthday song” sitch, and understandably so.  They toughed it out together.

Plus, they got free desserts and that is always a perk.

Awhile back, David’s side of the family had a photo scavenger hunt.  Why?  Just for kicks and grins, I suppose.  I only have pictures of my team.

Here we are in the produce section of Walmart.  As if we could not be any cooler.

 Have you ever been in Walmart and seen random people running around with a camera posing with various merchandise?

Yes.  We would be those people.

One of the tasks on the hunt was to get a picture with someone you knew, but who was not participating in the hunt.

The sentence, which was written by my husband, was poorly worded and lacking in proper comma placement.  (I told you I was better at grammar than he) Therefore, my mother-in-law read it as getting pictures with people you don’t know at all.

It was quite humorous looking through all of her pictures with poor, helpless strangers.  I’m sure they didn’t think she was insane at all.

My sister-in-law has got to be the most photogenic person on the face of this earth.  Here she is pointing at cows.  Because this is what my inlaws do.  We stop on the side of the road and pose with cows, didn’t you know?

I mean, really.  She looks like she belongs in a Pantene commercial.  Let us all silently envy her gorgeous, red hair, shall we?

Alright.  That’s all I got.  If anyone wanted to throw out a few suggestions for the letter “P”, I would not read said suggestions with disdain.  I would be most thankful.

Otherwise, we’ll probably talk about POULTRY.

You’ve been warned.

1)  We moved to the country.

2)  We decided we needed a garden and a chicken coop.

3)  Our land is very “roll-y” and covered in weeds and brush.

4)  David bought a bulldozer to clear the land.

5)  Clearing the land takes longer than one might expect.

6)  We spent all our monies on supplies to fence a garden and chicken coop.

7)  We could not put up the aforementioned fence because our land was not yet clear.

8)  On Saturday, David saw a listing on Craigslist for free chickens.  Getting good deals is what makes my husband’s world go round.  He went and got 24 chickens, 1 rooster, 1 Tom turkey, and 2 hen turkeys.

9)  We did not have a fence.

10)  My husband is insane.

***

So, we put all these birds into the chicken coop that my husband just finished this week and boarded up all the doors so they could not get out into the wild and be eaten by a great beast of some sort.

On Sunday, we got up early to start working on this fence . . . that we were not ready to build.  David started at 7:45am with putting in posts and pouring concrete.  I came out around 9am because the laundry pile was going to eat us if I did not conquer it.

Now.  David is an extremely hard worker.  He does not complain.  He does not get mad.  He does not quit.  He does not even break for lunch.

I am a good worker . . . in theory.  But I cannot do what he does.  I lack the muscles and general knowledge needed to properly fence a yard.  But I am willing, and he is patient, and therefore, we get it done.

And when I say “we,” please understand that he basically did all the work and I can only deduce that my purpose is to serve as eye-candy.

Ha.

I have no idea how he does what he does everyday.  But have you ever used wire cutters?  Apparently I do not have the hand muscles required to properly cut wire.  My hands are sore and they are covered in cuts and scrapes from trying to pull the chicken wire tight enough against the fence posts.

David’s hands are completely covered in callouses.  I think he must no longer feel pain in his hands.

We had to be in town at 1pm, so we had to quit early.  We only got about half the fence up before we had to go.  Because, remember?  We weren’t supposed to get chickens this weekend.

We got home at 7:30pm and decided to try and finish the fence.  The boys had fallen asleep, so David, the girls, and I got right to work.  We finished in a little over an hour with the help of some headlights and a flashlight.

The girls had fun and were excited to find a few more eggs before bed.

Sweet Pea (blue jacket) is holding a turkey egg.  What does one do with a turkey egg?  Don’t ask me.  I didn’t know I was raising turkeys.

I suppose it was probably supposed to stay under its mother’s feathered hiney.  Oops.

Since the girls were such hard workers, we let them stay up and watch a little TV.  We made popcorn and ice cream and watched The Waltons.  And, yes, I will admit.  I enjoy me some Waltons.  Apparently this is what happens when one moves to the country and homeschools.

The girls went to bed, but Daisy Mae came up crying, saying she heard a noise.  David checked things out and found nothing.  Then she came up again.  This time I went down and told her I heard nothing, but it was a LIE, because there was TOTALLY something making noise and I knew not what it was.  So I went and got David and we did some investigating and it turns out there is something living in the wall!

The wall!?!  Why do these things happen to me?

So, she came and slept on the couch because she was too freaked out, but now I have to worry about what sort of colony is living in my walls.

***

The chickens came out and enjoyed their new backyard this morning.

And because this is the luck I have, there is a dead chicken in the driveway, eaten by some sort of animal.

This is a problem.

I have to go past this dead chicken in order to get Handsome Dude to and from preschool today.  And there is NO WAY I am moving a dead chicken body, I can tell you that right now.

I think my husband needs to quit his job so he can take care of all this nonsense.  I wash my hands of it.

So, now, dear readers.

1)  What should I do with the turkey eggs?

2)  Did you know that none of the eggs are white?  They are like blue and green.

3)  Can I make a craft out of the pretty eggs?

4)  Does anyone want to come and move a chicken body for me?  I have a flannel shirt you can wear, if that sweetens the deal for you.

5)  These eggs are fertilized and I am scared to crack them open.

6)  There appears to be poo-poo on the eggs.  The eggs at the grocery store don’t have poo-poo on them.

7)  Have you ever had a creature living in your walls?  What can one do in a situation like this?

Country life is fun.

I’ll be back in a bit with my “N” post for the day, but I just wanted to share with you a link to another blog hosting “Muddy Mama” today.   My Easter post is being featured over there today, along with a couple of other stories from other bloggers.

Jessie Gunderson, host of Muddy Mama, says: “Encourage someone! I’m hoping we can be real about our trials and, through the relationships made here, find a reason to smile and laugh together at our misfortunes. So if you share, try to encourage another person who participates.”

I shared the moment my three year old walked outside, got completely naked, and jumped joyously on the trampoline without a care in the world.

It takes a lot of coffee to raise boys.

Here is the link to Jessie’s blog. 

See you in a bit!

Did you know my husband oft sings in falsetto?  It’s true.  There’s no denying it.

This week we are spending the money.  It is, in fact, out of control.  We bought the van.  Then we had to pay taxes on the van.  Then we had to go to the farm and ranch store and buy fencing.

Would you like to know how much we spent on fencing?  Sure you do.

$600

It’s like we are rolling in money, except we’re not.

So, this morning we went out to survey the lands and get ready to fence the garden and chicken coop.

Yes.  The coop looks all crazy-like.  This is because we got a smokin-deal on some used siding.  We will paint it so it is all one, aesthetically pleasing color.

Someday.

Here’s David “casting vision” to the girls.

 They were pretty excited.

So, we worked hard at clearing brush until lunch time.  David sat down at the table with a large bowl of chili and began to peruse Craiglist’s farm and garden section . . . as per his usual custom.

I heard him exclaim:

“Free Chickens!”

Next thing I knew, he was on the phone talking to some dude about his free chickens.  After his phoneversation, I politely reminded David that we do not yet have a fenced area for our chickens.

“I KNOW!”

And, yes.  He said that in his manly, falsetto voice.  He started running around the house, shoving chili in his mouth, and loading rabbit cages into the back of the truck.

He came home with what I believe to be 23 hens and 1 rooster.

He also brought home one Tom Turkey and two girl turkeys.

Fun Fact:  I do not know what you call a girl Turkey.

Did you know we were also raising turkeys?

Neither did I.

So.  I’m not sure what the plan is, but I think he is trying to figure something out to contain the chickens.  Because, have you heard?

We weren’t ready for chickens.

Someday, I’m going to write a book about how WEIRD he is.

I will make millions.

And apparently, my husband had a beard.  Who knew?!

The girls were fifteen months apart and life was . . . busy.  I have always stayed home with the kids and, back then, the days seemed to drag on.

I forget about those days.  The days of being at home with just little kids.  Schedules and routines were everything to me . . . it was the only way to keep my sanity!  I remember when I had just Sweet Pea, I would try and time her lunch-time feeding with a rerun of The Cosby Show.  We had good times back then, the Huxtables and I.

(image source)

I can’t even imagine having time to watch TV nowadays.

My friend, Amanda, and I have been friends since the first grade.  When Daisy Mae was a baby, Amanda and her family moved back to our area.  Amanda’s son was about 3 months older than Daisy Mae.  We used to get together a couple of times a week.  Everything was a huge process:

multiple highchairs

diapers

endless sippy cups

diapers

Cheerios all over the place

diaper bags

Oh!  and some diapers . . .

strollers

double strollers

front packs

diapers

It was exhausting getting together, but we both needed the adult interaction.

Soon, Amanda had another little boy and then a few months later, I had Handsome Dude.

He’s always been an easy kid.

Very easy-going and even-tempered, that boy is.

So, now we had five kids between us.  We would still get together, but it was no small task.

Weren’t they cute?

The astute reader might notice my stairs.

This was the house that The Lumberjack built.  It was quite the process and we lived in a remodel state for seven years.  And those stairs were like that for six of them.  But that has nothing to do with anything, so let’s move on.

Amanda and I both became pregnant again, this time our due dates within a couple of months from each other.

She had twins.  A boy and a girl.  I had Little Dude.

We still would get together, but the amount of planning it took to get 8 children together was daunting.

I don’t have a picture of all eight of them together.  For shame.

One day, I looked at Amanda and said:

“Hey.  In four years when the youngest batches head to preschool, would you like to meet me for coffee?  Just the TWO of us?!?”

And she said, “Yes!” because who doesn’t love the coffee/no children combo?

Well, dear readers.  Almost four years have passed since that day and life has changed.  The littlest ones will all be in preschool, but since I live forever and a day away and homeschool, our coffee date will probably not happen.

It is an epic fail on my part.

Time sure goes by fast.  I never thought those days would end, and now they seem so far away.  I remember the loneliness and exhaustion from being at home with little ones.  It is different now-still tiring, but not as lonely.  The kids are older and we have fun together.

Sometimes its not really all that fun.  I cannot tell a lie.  Sometimes its frustrating and includes a lot of bodily fluids, cleaning supplies, and paper towels.

But that sort of lonely feeling is gone.  Did anyone else ever feel that way . . . when they were home with babies?  If I found out my husband was going to work late, I would go into panic mode.  Now if my husband is going to be late, it’s like:

Oh, good!  More time to catch up on laundry!

Fun Fact:  I ALWAYS have laundry.

So, tell me dear readers:

 Do you stay at home?  How old are your kids?  How do you fill up your days?

Do you . . . homeschool?  (Ack!  Homeschool-my arch-enemy.)

Do you have a close friend you have stuck with throughout the years?

Are you able to meet your friend for coffee sans kids?

I know the days can drag on, but these years, as miserable as they sometimes can be, are so precious.  God has blessed me with some pretty fantastic kids and I get to be with them everyday.  It sounds INSANE, but I’m thinking that I will look back on these years and . . . miss them.

Even the homeschooling years.

Happy Friday!

Allow me to illustrate with this story from Christmastime 2009.

Please.  Try to contain your excitement.

So, my mom decides, on a complete whim, that she might need to start thinking about Christmas cards.

The night was December 15th . . . the night that I got that fateful call.

Mom:  Here’s my plan.  I’ll have all 6 of the grandkids over on Saturday.  I will take a picture, make cards through Costco, and then send them out by Monday.  Will that work?

Me:  Sure.

Never mind that this woman does not realize how difficult it is to get multiple children to  all smile in a picture.

Never mind that she does not ever know where her digital camera is.

Never mind that when she finds said camera, the batteries are always dead.

Never mind that when she replaces said batteries, the memory card is full.

Never mind that she does not know how to upload photos to her computer.

Never mind that she does not know how to upload photos from her computer to Costco.

Never mind that she does not have time to pick up cards from Costco.

The odds are stacked up against her, but technically, this can be done.

Maybe.

Next, she decides that I should just create a card using pictures I already have on hand. That way, we could get them made tonight, send them out sooner, and not have them be late to 75% of the recipients.

So, I email her a few pictures to look at.

And now, dear readers, for your entertainment, I present to you:

My Phone Conversation with Mom:

Me:  Did you get the pictures?

Mom:  Sort of.

Me:  What does that mean?

Mom:  Dang it.  I see one.

Me:  Ok.  Will that work?

Mom:  Sure.

Me:  Ok.  Do you want me to pick out a card for you, or would you like to pick one out?

Mom:  I’ll pick one out.

Me:  Ok.  Go to www.costco.com

Mom:  Ummm . . . I’ll just Google it.

Interruption:  I am shocked that mother knows what The Google is.

Me:  Why are you Googling it?  That makes no sense.  I just gave you the address.  And it’s not even tricky.

Mom:  Well, I don’t have my glasses on.

Me:  Still doesn’t make sense.

Mom:  Ok.  I am there.  Do I click on photos?

Me:  Yes!

I find this encouraging.

Mom:  Shoot.  It wants a username and password.

I have already set her up an account in the past.  I tell her what her username is.  It  is conveniently, her email.

I tell her what her password is.  It is conveniently the same as her email password.

The only people in the world who know my parents’ passwords are Sister Meagan and I.  My parents, most assuredly, have no clue.

Mom:  Okay, I am in.

Me:  Ok, click on photo cards.

Mom:  Now it is asking me for my username and password again!  Why?

Me:  I don’t know, Mom.  Just enter it again.

Mom:  Dang.  Now it says that my username is invalid.

Me:  Did you type it in right?

Mom:  I hate the internet.  Why does it have to be so hard?  I am even trying to buy something.  Doesn’t the internet want my business?

So many things to be said about that statement.

Now, while I am on the phone with Ma, the Lumberjack is watching an old Office episode.

So, I start laughing because Dwight has just congratulated the firefighters on their quick response time.

Mom is mad that I am laughing.

It will take too long to explain that I am also watching tv.

The fact that I can be on that tricky internet machine and be watching tv will blow her mind.

Have you seen this Office episode?

500 (meaningless) points to you if you know who started the fire in that episode.

Mom:  Grant!  Bring me my glasses!

Grant is my dad.

Remember him?

He is also not technologically-savvy.  Does this surprise you?

One year my mom got him an iPod for Christmas.

Why?

No one knows.

Anyways, he gets this iPod, and doesn’t use it.  Then his birthday comes, in April, and he gets some iTunes giftcards.  So, he has me help him buy songs and get them onto the iPod.

We get two songs loaded.

Dad:  That’s good for now.

Me:  Dad.  You have like $98 more dollars.

Dad:  I know.  But that’s fine.

Me:  Okay.

So, there goes my dad, out to work in the backyard, with his 2 song iPod.

Goober.

Alright.

Back to the original story at hand:

Me:  Can you see the photo cards?

Mom:  Yes.

Me:  Which one would you like?

Mom:  Ummm . . . I don’t care.  Why don’t you just go with your gut?

Me:  They are your cards.  Shouldn’t we go with your gut?

Mom:  It doesn’t really matter.

Me:  Ok.  What picture do you want me to use?

Mom:  Go with the Kiddie Kandids one.

Me:  Ok.  Do you remember how awful my boys looked?

Mom:  Oh, yeah!  Ok.  I will just take a picture on Saturday.

Me:  Ok, mom.  Bye.

Mom:  Bye.

*****

Here’s a fact that might surprise you:

This woman can manage a large pediatric practice with 3 offices, umpteen providers, and numerous employees.

But she cannot figure out how to find Costco.com.

Here’s an even funner fact:  Once, mother could not remember how to find Google.  So she went to Bing and searched for it.

You can’t make this stuff up, people.

***

Alright.  This is COMPLETELY off topic, but I need help.  I am painting my chicken coop and trying to decide between two colors.  Will you help me?

Red like this:

Or green like this:

And if it helps, this is our house:

I am wondering if green would compliment it more?

Please Advise.