The Lumberjack's Wife

David:  Hey, Hon.  Can I do anything to help you out?

Me:  Could you read with Daisy Mae?  She needs someone to listen to her read.

David:  Sure

My husband has “sitting-down-sleeping-syndrome.”  He comes by it honestly.  Everyone in his family also has this syndrome.  Back in yesteryear, (ooh!  a fancy word!), I would be watching a movie with my crazykin inlaws and they would all be asleep.  All of them.  Except the other lone inlaw, Jack.  It was always odd.  It’s hard for me and Jack, you know . . . being the only normal ones.  They are blessed to have us.

Since Lucy has been gone, we have been invaded by mice.  Thankfully not in our house, but in our garage.  The children caught a baby mouse and made a little habitat for it to live in. 

What is wrong with them?

They went to check on it and it escaped.  Lovely.  I’ll have you know my kids used to be scared and squeamish around animals, bugs, and rodents.  Now they touch mice like it ain’t no thang.  Country life is making them weird and creepy.

We also have a bird’s nest.

It’s hard to see, but there are little babies in there with their beaks open.

Here’s the mama.  Does anyone know what kind of bird it is?

It should be easy for you to tell, seeing as how I have provided you with an professional, completely in-focus picture.

It’s the kind of photography excellence you have come to expect from me.

That bird’s nest is in our front porch thingie.  I don’t know what it is called!  It’s like a roof.  But over a porch?  And there are beams?  You KNOW.  The front porch thingie.  Anyways, a bird lovingly placed a nest there last year when we had just moved in.  But Sweet Pea and Bimlissa’s daughter knocked it down with sticks and murdered the baby birds who were still in egg-form.

I don’t think I ever told Bimlissa this.

Bimlissa, is not this disturbing?  Should we be concerned?

Luckily, no baby birds have been murdered thus far.  My kids are now a little more wise in the ways of animals.  I just wish they would get a little disturbing on the baby mice.

I kid!  I jest!

I need a cat.

My kids all love to read together.

It’s a huge time saver for me, but then I started to feel kind of badly about it.  I remember the days when I just had Sweet Pea.  After lunch, I would sit in her room and watch her play with her toys and help her.  Then we would read books together and I would put her down for her nap.  There is no way I have time to give each of my children this kind of attention daily anymore.

Just feeling a little guilty.

Alright!  I am headed to town today!  This is exciting and my nicest jeans are clean and ready to go!

I realized I forgot to share with you the link for the coffee filter wreath:

My mom said she wants to try it.  Perhaps I should do it with her!  It could be a fantastic opportunity to get a Goober Parent Update.  Or, depending on how well the craft goes, a Goober Taylor Update.

And, since we are on the subject of Goober Parents, I shall leave you with the following phone call that took place between my dad and I.

Remember my dad?

You may recall that my parents recently got smart phones.

Why?

We cannot be certain.  But pigs can now fly.

Me:  Hello?

Dad (shouting because he is confused and feels the need to shout):  I AM JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT I FIGURED OUT YOUR PANDORA THING

Me:  Oh!  Do you like it?

Dad:  I TYPED IN MY FRIEND BURT.  AND THEN YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE TYPES OF SONGS THEY WRE PLAYING.  HORRIBLE.

I think he is referring to someone named Burton Cummings.  It’s ok.  I don’t know who that is either.

Me:  Well, just mark that you don’t like it and it will soon tailor it to your likes.

Dad: THE ONLY PROBLEM IS I CANNOT HEAR A DARN THING.  IT WON’T LET ME TURN IT UP.

Me, the smart phone expert that I am:  You need to turn up your media volume.

Dad:  THAT DOES NOT EXIST ON MY PHONE.  IT IS IMPOSSIBLE.  MY PHONE WILL NOT TURN ANY VOLUME UP.

Me:  Alright.

Dad:  GOODBYE.

Peace out, dudes.

Ok, so, I hate to be all needy again and everything, BUT . . .  I am guest posting today over at The Little Brown House and would love it if you would come and visit me!  Aren’t I just full of shameless self-promotion these days?  I know.  I find it to be annoying, too.

So, while you are there, you should totes check out Ms. Brown House and her awesome blog.  She has an eye for decorating and has come up with some really neat projects.

Allow me to give you a sampling.

You know.

To whet your appetite.

What would you do, dear readers, if you had a plethora of coffee filters in your pantry?

Would you:

A)  Make LOTS of coffee . . . enough coffee to equip yourself to handle whatever challenges arise in your day?

OR

B)  Make this nifty wreath and have all peoples admire your work and rise and called you blessed:

Isn’t that wreath cute?!  It’s made simply out of coffee filters, I kid you not!

If you were me, you would, of course, choose A.  BUT, if you are Ms. Brown House, you would choose B!  And, if you were the aforementioned Ms. Brown House, you would be that much more awesome and have a cute, aesthetically pleasing house.

Unlike myself.  I have clogged toilets and these dreadful things adorning my walls:

Don’t be jealous.

Thank you to The Little Brown House for featuring me today!  Please come and say hi over there and check out The Little Brown House.  It would help me feel a bit better about my shameless begging. 

Are you ready Mom and Dad?

Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

CLICK HERE

Alright.  Now please go and get all handsome on the guest post.

(Did you see what I did just there?)

Thank you!  I really appreciate it!

 Happy Tuesday!

PS-Aren’t I hyper today?  It’s on account of all that coffee I am pouring into myself before the children wake up.  And it is delicious.  And I don’t have any cute wreaths.  But at least I am perky . . .

for now.

You may recall that my husband loves to pick huckleberries.

He finds it enchanting.  

I find it dreadful.  Well, my husband also loves strawberry picking.  When we decided to go yesterday morning, there was a skip in his step and a song in his heart.  We picked for 45 minutes and reaped about 39 pounds.

You may exclaim: “Taylor!  What on earth will you DO with all those strawberries?”  Well, dear readers.  I make my own jam, because I am super on top of things.  We go through a pint of jam at least a week, so we need lots of berries to satisfy our household.

Lest any of you are too impressed, I have only made my own jam thrice.

Thrice is a fancy word to be used in place of saying”three times.”  Feel free to steal it, as it is always impressive.  And one should alway strive to sound impressive, particularly if one is a homeschooling mother such as myself.  Sounding like you are fancy and knowledgeable helps ease the fret of the homeschooling naysayers.

So we picked and picked and then we, along with our bounty, had to get to my sister’s birthday party straightaway.

Sister Meagan received a 4-man boat for her birthday.  4-man boat is always code for “maybe two adults can fit comfortably . . . maybe.”

Here she is on her maiden voyage. 

(Meagan is on the left, friend Caylee on the right)

Ahoy!

I told her she needed to name her boat something fantastic like, “Ina May” and she looked at me like an insane crazy  person.  Whatever.  I think any decent boat should have a name.  My parents have a canoe.  Her name is “Nona.”  If I get a boat, I am going to name her “Norma Jean Riley.”  Even though I already named one of the rabbits that.  It is that fantastic of name.

Ina May floated like a champ.

My kids are like fish.  You cannot keep them from the water.  It is their lifeblood.

Good Morning, Gil.  I said, Good MORNING, GIL.

ha!  Name THAT movie.  Hilarious.

Here are my girls with their cousins in Ina May.  Did you notice how I just decided Sister Meagan’s boat shall be called Ina May without her approval?  I am the big sister and it is my right to do so.

Handsome Dude was getting a bit impatient to eat a cupcake.

“Grams, can you put the fire on these so we can eat them?  I am hungry.”

Ha!  He was talking about lighting the birthday candles.  Keep up!

You may recall that my mother is following the Weight Watchers diet.  And not for pretends, either!  So, she made cupcakes and a cake.  Brother Danny (he is my brother.  And his name is Danny.  Hence the name) is a little wary of my mother’s baked goods as of late.

Mom:  Danny, would you like some cake?

Danny:  Umm . . . who made it?

Mom:  Me.

Danny:  Ummm . . .

So for all that sass, he had to try it.  Because she is still his mother and she said so. 

He was super excited.  Apparently it was a recipe where you take a cake mix and add a can of diet root beer, stir it up, and bake it.

I did not try it because I am pretending to be on Weight Watchers again and was hoping for frozen yogurt on the ride home.

And, I did get some.  Oh, yes I did.

We had joyous times and did not return to our homestead until about 10pm.  And, because my husband is a maniac, we had to clean/slice/bag/freeze all of those strawberries.

I didn’t go to bed until 11:30pm!

Look at me and my party-animal self!

It’s like I am back in my 20’s again or something. 

It’s Saturday night!  And I am hiding from my family.  Yes.  I admit it.  Sometimes I do need to get away from them all . . .

As precious as they are.

I was bound and determined to get a lovely blog header picture for you all today, because I know that is why you all come here.  I thought to myself:

“Taylor!  Wouldn’t it be HI-larious if you had a picture of your kids faces with some of the rabbits that have multiplied themselves at your homestead?!”

And, after much planning and positioning and bribery, this was the best I could get:

Turns out when you crop it, the bunnies disappear.

Blogging is hard.

But did I give up?

Yes.  Yes, I did.

No!  The boys are not allowed to hold actual rabbits!

That would be coco-nuts.

I have some . . . news. 

We had to find a new home for Lucy.

This happened a week ago, but I didn’t share with you all about it because I was still feeling blue about it all and not really up for talking about it.  Plus, I remembered when Mabel died last fall and my blog was a total downer. I will forever remember that phase as  “The Great Blog Depression of 2010.”  Anyways, I figured I needed to not write about it for a bit.

Lucy was just too much for us to handle.  We didn’t realize it, but she was bothering the neighbors and chasing livestock.  She was too wild for the children and, well, the list goes on and on and on.  I am really sad that we had to find a new family for her, but her new family was really excited to take her.  They had three older children and another dog, and she happily left with them.  Or so I’m told.  I took the kids for a drive so we didn’t have to see her go.

 I am still pretty bummed about it, but I know David and I made the right choice for all involved.

***

I am impressed that some of you tried to use my sister’s “handsome” phrase in a sentence in the comments of my last post.

You did good!

Here’s a hint:  think of handsome as a verb, not an adjective.

So you wouldn’t say, I’m eating some handsome ice cream.

Nay.

You say, I’m getting all handsome on some ice cream.

See?

Yes.  I know.  Makes no sense.

But that’s why its fun.

***

We were in Walmart yesterday.  Daisy Mae saw a cucumber and said:

“Oh, look!  It’s a Larry!”

Of course, she is referring to Veggie Tales.  Keep up, people!

Then, she had an epiphany.

“Mom! You see that! A tomato! Guess what. On Veggie Tales there is a Bob the Tomato. I never knew why they called him that. But I figured it out. He is a tomato. AND his name is Bob. That’s why!”

Wow.

***

Handsome Dude has been getting a little . . . deep lately.  He asks some pretty intense questions.  Questions such as:

“Mom.  Do the trees like the sky?”

I’m going to need more coffee.

My mom has lost about 50 pounds and she is a force to be reckoned with.  The woman will not cheat.  She is Weight Watcher’s biggest fan and I wonder why I didn’t inherit her passion for following a diet for over a year.  I can barely record my points for two days in a row.  So boring, so trivial.

What’s that?  Oh!  Did I not tell you? 

Yes, I am feigning to be on Weight Watchers again.  What this means is I am paying Weight Watchers and hoping that by at least joining, weight will magically fall off.  Turns out, the diet works best when you actually follow it.

Who knew?!

Anyways.  My mom, being the health guru that she now is, has decided to take up running.  We know this because somehow she manages to sneak this sentence into her daily conversations:

“I’m a runner now.”

Seriously.  Annoying.  She’s said it since she bought the outfit.

So, I figured if she can do it, so can I.  And the other morning, I decided to go out and run/walk in the driveway before my shower.  I looked remarkably fetching, seeing as how I had no makeup and had my bed hair, but have you heard where I live?

I live in the middle of nowhere.

So, what do I care?

Imagine my shock when a neighbor comes to call.  And would you like to know what news he had for me?

Bears.

Bears are in the ‘hood. (That’s cool-talk for neighborhood.  Keep up, people!) A mama and her babies, to be exact.  Did you know that husband of mine assured me no bears lived here?  It’s true.  He did.  Liar.

And I told him that the day I heard of bears was the day I was moving.  Which, I won’t, because I don’t think that was part of my marriage vows, but STILL.

Bears.

Me no likey.

Let us move on to happier topics, shall we?

Today is Sister Meagan’s birthday.

Sister Meagan is my go to person for all things hip and cool, seeing as how I am just an old married woman with 4 children and she is a young lass living it up, all exciting like.

It is because of her influence on me that I share with you the words:

Holla!

Uber

totes

And while we are talking about holla, there has, once again, been some confusion.

NO.  It is not hola, the spanish word for a friendly greeting.

Holla.

Two ‘L’s”.  Not one.

To be honest, I don’t really know what it means and I give up trying to pretend I do and we are just going to move on now because I have given up on you unteachable people.

I wash my hands of it.

Sister Meagan cracks me up and I always ask her if I can say something, because I have been known to get confused and use words incorrectly in a sentence.

Meagan, Can I say, “I totes want coffee?”

Meagan, is “snap” a swear word?

Good news!  It isn’t!  I don’t think.

While my mother and I were in Vegas, we were trying to be good with our Weight Watchers-ness and we ordered salads with dressing on the side.

This is silly on my end, because I end up using all the dressing.  And then I attack the bread bowl and use it to soak up all remaining dressing I may have left behind on my plate.

But getting dressing on the side is a healthier choice.  And I stand by it.

Anyways. We were famished and waiting for our dainty salads when we spotted a table of four ladies next to us.  The server brought them a GINORMOUS platter of nachos.

And those ladies devoured them in mere seconds, I kid you not.

Me:  Dang!  They got all handsome on them nachos.

Mom: huh?

Me (casually, cause I’m cool like that):  Oh, its just something Meagan says.

Mom:  I don’t get it.

Me:  I don’t either.  But I think its funny when Meagan says it.

Mom:  I really want some nachos.

Me:  Me, too!

Mom:  I could just run them off.  I’m a runner now.

Me:  So I’ve heard.

So, there.  In honor of Meagan’s birthday, I am teaching you all something new and cool to say.

I’ll give you a few more example sentences, for further clarification.

“Look at that pizza!  I’m getting all handsome on that.”

“I’m getting all handsome on my popcorn and Diet Pepsi tonight.”

(Diet Pepsi, not Diet Coke.  Don’t insult me.)

And, finally, I will use it in a sentence to describe this picture from the olden days of me and Sister Meagan herself:

“Whoa, Nellie!  I was getting all handsome on them button-fly shorts!”

I know.  It makes no sense.  But it’s funny, isn’t it?
Hello?

Hola?

Holla?

I’ll have you know that I am sitting at my kitchen counter in the middle of nowhere with kids swarming all about me, laughing each time I say I’m a gonna get handsome on something.

Because I find it funny.

Even thought I know not what it means.

Don’t bother trying to look it up.  Sister Meagan made it up.  She is that cool.

Happy Birthday to Meagan!

I hope you get all handsome on some cake tonight.

Attention Sister Meagan:  It is like we have our own, inside joke we are keeping from the rest of the world!  Be honored.  I probably lost some readers today on account of my foolishness.  That is how much I loveth you.

Happy Thursday!

PS-Thank you for visiting me at JoAnn’s yesterday!  I hope you took time to check her out.  She’s the bee’s knees.

PPS-It is so cold here today, I’m about to get all handsome on some socks.

PPPS-I’m a runner now.

Awhile ago, I found a blogger named JoAnn.  She writes the most lovely, beautiful, and hilarious posts in the whole, wide world.

Imagine my shock (and nervousness) when she asked me to guest post for her.  It is a different kind of post for me.  I didn’t even say holla! once.

Would you mind stopping by JoAnn’s blog and visiting me over there?  I would be eternally grateful.

And while you are there, take the time to read some of JoAnn’s posts-I’m sure you will love her!

Besides, she will oft include this picture of her husband in her posts:

He looks . . . fierce, does  he not?  He’s definitely got a passion for dodgeball.

Alright!  So please please come and visit me over there and say hi.  You know.  So I don’t feel like a silly goose.

Click here

Attention Mom and Dad:  You must click on the highlighted words that read :click here.”  Do not be alarmed.  You will be taken to a different blog.  But it is still me writing.  I promise.

Thank you, I appreciate it!

After our anniversary trip, we went to pick the kids up from David’s parents.  The children always have a grand time with their grandparents.

You can’t go wrong with a big, green tractor.

The kids got in a mood once we arrived.  Do you know this mood?  The “oh, I forgot I am extremely tired from all the fun I’ve had and now I am going to give you the stink eye and throw myself on the ground in a fit of fury simply because I need a nap”  mood?  So precious.

Luckily, they fell fast asleep on our drive home.  And our drives home are never short.  Makes for good napping.  To add to the excitement of the day, we decided to drive another 40 minutes away to where my parents were camping to visit them for the evening.  It was so pretty where they were camping, so I decided to try and get some decent pictures of the children.

It did not go so well.

That picture was taken before they realized I was taking a picture.

Once they clued in, this is what I got:

Look at Little Dude.  What a punk.  To further aggravate him, I decided to add the girls to the mix.  For kicks and grins.

What beef does Little Dude got against me?

Oh, that one is just . . . precious.

Notice how Little Dude has not cooperated once.

Come on, kids!  Mama needs a new blog header.

Little Dude:  For the love of everything, Mother.  When will this end?

2 out of 4 isn’t so bad.

Three cheers for Daisy Mae (black shirt)!  She has looked at the camera the entire time!

That’ll do, kids.  That’ll do.

And as you may have noticed, I attempted to upload one as a header.  I couldn’t get the good one because Sweet Pea’s head is too high.  So the mediocore one will serve as this blog’s header for awhile.

Nothing but the best for my blog.

It started to get chilly and we all asked David to build us a fire, because David is the go-to guy for all things wood/fire/camping-ish.

My kids are learning the tricks of the trade.  The boys got into the back of the truck, unloaded the wood, and then brought the wood to the fire pit.

Daisy Mae helped David get the fire ready.

My legs look just like that when I wear shorts, too.

We had a lovely time visiting with my parents and Sister Meagan.  After dinner we decided to go for a walk.  It was so lovely, we decided we should have a group photo to capture this memory in time.

David set the timer on the camera and then ran like a champ to join us.

After he did that, a teenager was riding his bike right by us.  Foolishly, we assumed he had noticed out group photo dilemma and was going to offer to take the picture for us.

Instead, he looked right at David and said, “Wow.  I didn’t know cameras could do that.  Later.”

Helpful.

Happy Monday!

I took the Fab Four to the beach yesterday and had some pictures to show you.  However, my computer is insisting on giving me grief again.

Can somebody please tell me why this keeps happening?

So irksome.

Today is our 11th Wedding Anniversary!

As each year passes, I realize how much I regret my bangs.  Oh, well.  What can you do?

The girls gave us a present today and it was really sweet.  They had found a framed wedding picture that I had misplaced and got it all spiffed up for us.  I would show it to you, but alas:

My computer has picture-uploading-itis  today. 

You may say: “Taylor!  How did you get the wedding picture without the attractive, eye-catching, gray block on the bottom?!”

Copy and paste from an old post, my dear friends.  Copy and paste.

Could this blog be any more professional?

Anyways, in a bit here I am about to head off into the city to drop off the four children with David’s parents for THE NIGHT.

Pray for them.

And pray for their toilets.  They don’t know what’s about to hit them.

Literally.

We are going to a H-O-T-E-L.  Oh, be still my heart.  So exciting.

In honor of our anniversary, I thought I would leave you with a random list of nothingness about David and I.

Please.  Try to contain your excitement.

1.  We were given a pig as a wedding present.  A live one.  This was exciting to David, as he was into all things 4-H and whatnot.  Sadly, it was butchered and we had a plethora of pork (gag me) in our freezer for many moons.  One night, David decided to fry us up some ham steak (double gag me).  Lucky for me, my decorative candle that I ignorantly placed on the oven had melted and dripped wax into the burners.  Imagine my luck when the ham steak caught fire and we had to take up the invitiation from my dad to join him at his house for dinner!  Did you know my dad is a superb cook?  It’s true.

2.  We have probably caught and killed at least 100 mice in our homes.  Because, clearly, we are super clean peoples.

3.  We used to eat ice cream for a snack every night.  100 (meaningless) points to whoever can remember what we eat now for our much healthier snack. 

4.  Every time David gets a new pillow, I steal it and give him my old one.  This reminds me, it is time for David to ask for a new pillow.

5.  David would sleep on the floor if it meant I was quiet and he could sleep.  This is how I acquire the pillow.  I promise silence.

6.  Our first date lasted less than an hour.

7.  When he first told me he loved me, I told him he couldn’t say that yet because it was too soon.

I’m such a delight.

8.  David and I have been playing Words with Friends against each other on our phones.  And guess what.

I caught David cheating.

You can cheat on Words with Friends.

There’s an app for that.

9.  When we were first married, we never purchased coffee, because we never drank it enough to use it.  We couldn’t eat bread before it went moldy or drink an entire gallon of milk before it went sour.

I am happy to report that we quickly found the solution to those quandaries:

Are you wondering what they are looking at in the picture?

So am I.

Now we put on two pots of coffee a day, eat about 3 loaves a bread a week and drink about 3 gallons of milk a week.

10.  The first meal I ever made David and I in our first home was . . . wait for it . . . baked potatoes with toppings.  Toppings like . . . canned chili.

It was surely a meal that impressed.

***

Alright! 

Try not to jealous as I head off kid-free . . . again.

Which reminds me!  We need to do the COW!

This week’s goes to Mindee:

I was going to tell you about the best novel ever written. You would have loved it. You would have laughed, cried – it’s life changing really.

But then you had to flaunt your kid free status and say Neener Neener so I’m keeping it to myself.

Well, Mindee . . . not get all “flaunty” again, but . . .

Neener Neener.