The Lumberjack's Wife

I am back from my trip to Las Vegas, and I am feeling a bit overwhelmed as to how to recap it all in a blog post.  I could just sum it all up for you in one sentence . . .

Vegas is wee naughty.

And hot.  It was like 110 degrees!  That’s like Africa hot.  I would oft perspire when simply walking to and fro.

Let us begin this story by discussing my mother.

Lest any of you are confused, my mom is the one with the dark hair, of which I am jealous of.

As you may have heard on this blog, my mom can be a goober when it comes to technology.  The night before we left, she decides she needs to get a smart phone.

Why?

Because she can. 

Me:  My parents are going into Verizon tonight to get smart phones.

David:  They’re gonna get rolled.

And I am sure they did.  Because my parents walk into these types of stores announcing their ignorance and their willingness to pay.  Not very Dave Ramsey-ish.  Nope.  And yet they have purchased all the Dave Ramsey paraphernalia.  See?  They even got rolled by Dave Ramsey.

Do you know who Dave Ramsey is?  Are you wondering what on earth I am talking about?

You are not alone.

Anyways, so my mom has this smart phone now, of which she knows not how to use.  Let us discuss her first phone call with it, shall we?

Me:  Hello?

Mom (shouting, because apparently smart phones render you deaf): TAYLOR!  HAVE YOU BEEN TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF ME?

Me:  Nope.

Mom:  WE HAVE BEEN AT THE VERIZON STORE FOR HOURS.  YOUR FATHER AND I GOT SMART PHONES.  I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT.  THE SCREEN JUST GOES BLACK.  I COULD BARELY MAKE THIS PHONE CALL.

Me:  Wow!  You both got them, huh?

Mom:  YES.  YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH MONEY WE SPENT AFTER ALL THE ACCESSORIES THE GUY SAID WE NEEDED TO GET.

(You see what I mean?  They got rolled)

Mom: THERE IS A CLASS WE CAN TAKE ON HOW TO USE THE SMART PHONE.  BUT IT IS ON SUNDAYS AT 9 AM.   I HAVE CHURCH!  I LOOKED RIGHT AT THE SALESMAN AND SAID, “I SUPPOSE THE CLASS IS ONLY FOR THE UNCHURCHED THEN?  HMMMM?”

Me:  You probably shouldn’t say that kind of stuff, Mom. 

So, that’s a little background for you on my mom and her phone.  And that really doesn’t have much to do with the Vegas recap, although it is humorous that a “churched” woman, such as herself, spent the weekend in naughty Vegas.

Because Vegas is wee naughty.

To clarify, we were not naughty.  But the atmosphere is a bit on the sketchy side.

So, we flew into Vegas and as soon as we stepped outside, we were literally knocked over by the mass amounts of heat.  I was in jeans and a t-shirt, because I lack a brain, and my goodness, that was not a good idea.

So, we spent the afternoon at the pool and then we got all gussied up to go on the strip.  Everyone in the world was vacationing at vegas.  There were throngs of people there.  All the hotels are massive and beautiful and really fun to look at.  Auntie Datenut drove over to meet us there.

Auntie told me I looked so cute with my long hair and my killer eyebrows.  I am not sure how to interpret the eyebrows part, but I will hope she means it in a good way.  Because I hate my eyebrows.  They have a weird curve.  What can you do?  Anyways, Auntie made me feel pretty and youthful, even though I am more mature in years now, and that made me feel pleasant.

We spent our days eating and laughing and walking and laughing and looking at hotels and laughing.
We really wanted to be able to relax by the pool, but the universe was against us.  On Sunday, as soon as we get to the pool, the lifeguards started yelling for everyone to get out of the pool.

Lightning.

So, that made us forlorn.  But the next day was blue skies and sunshine, so we went back to the pool, certain the lightning was not going to kick us out that day.

As we were “yucking” it up in the pool, the lifeguards started shouting for everyone to get out.

Again.

The people were revolting and basically ignoring them, on account of the lightning fiasco the day before.  But then, the lifeguards informed us there was, ahem, poo, in the pool.  That got everyone out in a jiff.

So, everyone had a good laugh and was looking at the poo, which had sunk to the bottom of the pool.

But then the lifegaurds brought out the tape:

and roped off the pool.  The poo just sat there.  I don’t know if they were waiting for a hazmat team or what, but I was thinking if they offered me a free stay, I would totally throw on some gloves and pick it up.

Do you know how much poo I have cleaned up in my life?  It ain’t no thang.

They closed the pool for 24 hours on account of that little poo.  And as a result of poo and lightning, I do not have bronzed skin, like I was hoping.

Such is life.

It was good to come home though.  I missed my family and I got to come home to a clean house, washed “rig”, and my girls had all the laundry caught up!

I am happy to report summer has come to these here parts!  It is gorgeous and warm and sunny.

Therefore, today I am going to the beach with the fab four.

I hope we have a lovely, poop-free, lightning-free swim.

I hope you all had a lovely weekend!

PS-I know you have all been dying to know what book I purchased for my Kindle.  I am chose The Help and I think it is really good so far!

I have spent far too much time this afternoon trying to upload one, stupid picture to my blog.

And time after time, these are the results I get:

Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Sometimes, I really hate technology.  It’s amazing I find The Internet everyday, isn’t it?

Well.  It would have been a cute picture.  Wish you could have seen it.

I am sure you have all been dying to know how the oven cleaning went yesterday.  When David and I showed up at the house he said, and I quote:

“How about you finish up the bedding and I’ll clean the oven?”

These are the moments that make marriage worthwhile.

Oh, isn’t he grand?  Who wants to clean an oven anyway, really?  So tedious. And he does a splendid job of scrubbing things, on account of his gigantic muscles.

So, we got all work done and went to eat at THE GREEK RESTAURANT of which we love, even though it was belly dancer night.  As luck would have it, our server brought us our check mere moments before Lady Belly Dancer sashayed her way over to our table and we made it out in the nick of time.

Belly Dancing.

It’s not for the faint of heart.

The kids were at VBS this week and last night was Parent Night.  This was Little Dude’s maiden performance on a stage of any kind.

Can anyone guess where his hands were the entire time?

Hmmmm?

Hmmmm?

It was a proud moment.  My boy had his shirt in his mouth and his hand down his pants.  What can you do?

He is stinking cute, I must inform you.  Which is why he can get away with such things.

I am still trying to get that first picture to work for you, because I will not allow the computer to defeat me, darn it.  I found this gem of a picture for you on my phone:

Wait a tick!  Does it look like David is . . . smiling?!?! 

There’s that Little Dude again, attempting to invite me to the gun show.  And we already knew Daisy Mae was cute.

I have nothing to blog about today.  Can you tell?  I was hoping I would upload picture #1 and fountains of creativity would burst open and I would write the bestest blog post ever.    Spoiler Alert:  that will not be happening.

Lucy thinks I like her now because I simply praised her for about 30 seconds a half an hour ago and now she won’t stop licking me and sniffing me and generally loving me.  I was pleased with her (a rare occurrence) because she was barking at a Mr. Creepy Creeperton who was walking along the edge of our property line.

And I want her to bark at all Creepy Creepertons.

She never barks at deer, turkeys, or moose any more.  But human species are so rare, I am sure it gave her a fright.

Ah-ha!

Look at me and my bad self!

See?  Now wasn’t that worth the wait?  Aren’t my boys the cutest?  Check out Handsome Dude with his Carhartt hat and his glasses on!

No!

I most certainly did not help my boys make those cars, you silly readers!  Holla to reader Stacy who made them for VBS and sent them home with us.

I promise you, Stacy,  they are in excellent condition as I type this right now and are most certainly not all in pieces and ready to go out to the trash.  Nope.

Stacy is a “pretend” reader.  She says she reads but she never comments, so how should I know she reads?  And then she talks to me and I look at her like she is an insane crazy person and I wonder how on earth she knows so much about me.

And then she tells me she reads this blog.  And then I think “Oh, Snap!  What have I mentioned on that stupid blog?”  And then I think about why I have this dumb blog and oh how I hate it and it’s so embarrassing and so on and so forth and blah blah blah.

I have no one to blame but myself.

I told you I had nothing to talk about.

Alright.  Let’s do a COW.  Because we can.

This week’s goes to Debbie with her comment on The Bib Overalls:

This reminds me of all the birthdays and Christmases my mother-in-law bought me sweaters…..always a man’s sweater. Not sure what she was trying to say there.

Ha!

Oh!  We cannot forget to post the picture of Gladys the Cow.

I have nothing else to drone on about.  Please.  Try to contain your sadness as you realize this post is coming to an end. 

Tomorrow, I am leaving for Las Vegas!

And I neglected to get a book at the library.  Because who has time for such things?  Even though I was at the library YESTERDAY.

So, I have a Kindle app on my phone, as if I couldn’t get any cooler, and I was wondering if you would please send some book ideas my way.

And, YES, I have read The Hunger Games.  And, NO, I don’t want to read Twilight.

Thank you and have a pleasant weekend tending to your children as I am basking by the pool kid-free.

Neener, neener.

(This post will make no sense unless you read this post.  Although, apparently that post also made no sense, so you might be alright.)

Oh, dear.

Have I mentioned I just turned 30?  Well, apparently when one turns 30, they become all crazy and don’t make sense when they are blogging.

And, apparently they become borderline inappropriate.  I am sorry for all the grown up talk lately.  What is wrong with me?

I wrote a post yesterday when I really didn’t have the time to be writing any such posts.  I was supposed to be getting ready to load the children up so we could go to that darn other house and clean it.  And I decided not to tell you all about that because I didn’t want to sound like I was complaining.  But here I am now, complaining.  Darn house. 

So, I wrote the post, I hit publish, and then I made my usual announcement to the children:

“We are leaving in 20 minutes!”

(I say this when I hope to leave in an hour)

And then we have to potty and cry and potty and forget our shoes and potty and fight over a truck and redo our hair and potty and blah blah blah blah blah.

So, I get about a MILE away and notice that Lucy, our darling pup, has chased the car and has caught up with me.

Darn dog.

So, then I have to load her up and bring her home and tell her to STAY.

And she does it again.

And then I take her home again.

And we played that lovely game thrice.  And, yes, thrice is a clever word.  And I am saying “and” too much.

So, I start to get the emails with your comments on my smart phone that I am too dumb to use, and I notice that no one knows what “Bail O’ Cotton” means.  So, I decide I should try to edit my post.

But I cannot figure out how to do such things on my phone.  Because I am 30 now and I have no brains.  I tried and I tried.  I even tried to download a WordPress app for my phone and still couldn’t figure it out.

I think it’s time they put me out to pasture.

(To Sister Meagan:  Holla!  To Everyone Else:  Sister Meagan asked me to put the phrase “put out to pasture” in a blog post.  Did it work?  Did I use it right?  What are your thoughts?  I am 30 now, so remember I am not operating with a full deck of cards.)

And now we have come full circle.  What does Bail O Cotton mean?

First of all, I think I used the wrong spelling of “bail.”  It may have been “bale,” but honestly I have no idea.  Nor do I have the time or the passion to google that right now.

Secondly, I don’t think I should speak of such things on my web log.  I don’t know what has gotten into me!  I am not sure I can bring myself to type out the word.

Therefore, I shall leave you with clues. 

Clue 1-  It’s a feminine hygiene product

Clue 2- Starts with the letter P

Clue 3- Sometimes has the word “maxi” in front of it.

Clue 4-Auntie was basically saying she needed to wear one because we were always making her laugh too hard.  And she was having bladder control issues.  She was probably 30.

I fear I’ve said too much.

Basically, I just shouldn’t have blogged yesterday.  And I shouldn’t have blogged today because I need to go into town and go back to that darn house and clean the oven because the oven is a ghastly sight.

But I have news of great joy!

The kids are going to be at VBS tonight and David and I are going to our favorite Greek restaurant.  Oh, yes, local people.  We are going to THE GREEK RESTAURANT.  You know.  You KNOW.  That yummy one.

Local people!  It is like we have an inside joke that we are keeping from the cyber people!  Although after all this senile blogging, I don’t know if anyone, local or cyber, is still reading this.

Alas.  Tonight is belly dancer night at THE GREEK RESTAURANT.  It’s sure to be awkward and jiggly.  And sweaty, most likely.

Speaking of VBS, my mom is a teacher there.  Now, you all know how gooberish my mom is when it comes to technology.

Mom:  I am going to watch something on YouTube.

Me:  Ok.  www.youtube.com

Mom:  Hmmm . . . I better Google it.

Me:  Why?  Just type in the address.

Mom:  That doesn’t work out for me.

Me:  Whatever you wish.

Mom:  Oh, shoot.  I don’t remember how to get to Google.  I will use Bing to find Google and then I will go to YouTube.

No, readers.  I did not make that up.

I pinky swear.

Apparently, she was the only one who could figure out how to set up the DVD player at VBS and she wanted me to praise her on the Internets because I am always making fun of her on the Internets.

So, there you go.

Are you all impressed with her?

Alright.  I’m leaving now.  I am going to be late.  Again.  I hope I wasn’t too confusing.  I am 30 now, you know.

How many times can I talk about being 30 in one post?

Oh.  It just makes me feel so forlorn when I even say it.

30.

I shall speak of it no more.

I am leaving for Las Vegas on Saturday with my mom.  My mom invited me and I was not going to go, on account of the fact that I have no money to be foolishly throwing away on airplane tickets.  However, David heard about this trip and told me I must go.

I have determined his reasons for why he is forcing me to go on this trip:

1)  He has hunting guilt.

2)  He has “I moved my wife to the boonies” guilt.

3)  He didn’t know what to get me for my birthday.

4)  Did I tell you I turned 30?  I know.  I am still depressed, too.

I checked the weather and did you know that in some places the weather can reach in the 100’s?!?!?  And one such place is Las Vegas?!?!

Oh, my lands.

I get weary in our 79 degree heat.  Show me a 9 degree day and I’ll just slap on my long underwear and build me a fire.  But 100 degrees?  How do these people live?

We are meeting my Auntie Datenutloaf there.  Auntie Datenutloaf lives in a far off land, so we don’t often see her.  When I was a child, she came and lived with us for a time. 

Years ago, when I was a young lass, Auntie Datenutloaf came for a visit. We were playing Trivial Pursuit.  This is the only game my Dad would play with us, because it is the only game he wins at.

Sidenote:  Have you ever seen a person with no creativity or imagination play Balderdash?

That would be my Dad.

Example:  When he was told to come up with the plot for a movie titled “There’s one born every minute,” he wrote:  “A movie about babies being born.”

Yes.  We were taken aback by his ingenuity as well.

Why am I talking about Balderdash?  Let’s proceed.

So, Auntie Datenutloaf was playing Trivial Pursuit with us.  My dad was in a good mood, only because he was winning, and us children were just trying to act like we knew what any of the questions were.

It was my turn to read a question:  “What contraceptive was invented in the 1950’s?”

Of course, all the adults turned red and had that “Oh, snap!  Should we be playing this game with the children!?” look when Brother Danny shouted:

“I know!  I know!”

At this point, all joy has been sucked out of my father’s life as he is pondering his failures as a father since his young son knows of contraceptives.

“It’s color TV!  Color TV is the answer!”

At this point, Auntie Datenutloaf cannot contain herself any longer.  She begins to run/fall down the stairs to the bathroom shouting:

“Bail O’ Cotton!  Bail O’ Cotton!”

Which made no sense to children such as ourselves.  But now that I am 30, and wiser to life, I completely know what she was talking about.

She was going to pee her pants.

And I now know what a contraceptive is.

And no, it is not a color TV . . . technically speaking . . .

Auntie Datenutloaf never considered me to be the brightest crayon in the box.  It would take me awhile to catch on to things.

For example, one dreary, cold winter day, my uncle asked me to get him some sunscreen.

Isn’t he just hilarious?

Well I, being the obedient child that I was, went to look for it.  For like 20 minutes.  When I came downstairs my mother and Aunt were mocking me.

Yes.  Mocking.

Mom:  Taylor.  Of course he doesn’t need sunscreen.  Look outside.

Auntie Datenutloaf:  Go Speed Racer!

I just smiled and acted like I knew what a Speed Racer was.

source

Now, I know that I am 30, I know that she was making fun of me.

The nerve!

And now, I am going on a trip with these people.

My goal is to not get called “Speed Racer” once.

***

In other news, I convinced David to shave his sideburns.

I do not know how I accomplished this, nor do I know if I shall ever accomplish anything this spectacular in my life again, but they are gone.

Oh, yes.  They are gone.

***

David got a smart phone.

We are hoity-toity Ruralville-ites now.

***

I lost like 1 pound.  Do you think I will meet my 10 pound goal by Saturday?

***

(The answer is no.  No, I will not)

***

The hummingbirds have left me.  I am trying to act like it doesn’t bother me, but it does.

Do hummingbirds go out of season?

Go, Speed Racer!

Have you ever walked into your bathroom and found your 3 year old stark naked, standing on the counter, trying to “get da bugs!” with your hair dryer?

Me neither.

But if it were to happen to me, let me assure you that the hair dryer would surely be unplugged.

We’re pretty big on safety over here.

I need to answer more questions!  I begged, nay pleaded, with you all to ask me a question assuring you I deeply needed these questions in order to formulate a blog post.  Obviously, I am a liar.  But, oh well, let us press on.

(To visit the first questions and answers posts, click here, then here.  In that order.  Or else.)

(Or don’t.  Your choice.)

From Katie Brn:

(Katie asked me LOTS of questions, making her my newest BFF, holla, Katie, holla!  I am not sure I can answer all of them, but I will do my best)

(For the record, my so-called “friend,” Bimlissa did not ask me a question.  Just an FYI.)

What do you do for yourself? As in, what do you do, or think you should do, with the few minutes you are allowed to yourself a week? (and blogging doesn’t count!)

By the time I have a few minutes, it is about 830pm.  David and I usually have 4th meal and watch shows until David falls asleep at 854pm.

You may ask, “Taylor!  What is 4th meal?”

Well.  A long time ago, David and I got into the habit of eating a bowl of ice cream every night while watching TV.  We made the switch to popcorn deeming it much healthier.

Because we choose to believe it is healthier.  And don’t tell us otherwise.

We also partake of sodas.  David will often add a large mug of hot cocoa, because it makes his tummy feel pleasant, and we have recently added peanut M&Ms to 4th meal.

We are healthnuts.

So, that’s what we do.  We sit and eat our healthier choices.

Have you ever heard the song “Taylor, the latte boy?” I know you aren’t a boy, but I always think of that song when I read your blog. That and Monte Python’s “Lumberjack Song” but don’t be affended that the only thing that ties them to this blog in my brain are the names . . .

No, I haven’t heard that song.  But my husband used to ALWAYS since that Lumberjack song until I told him what it was really saying.  It totally burst his bubble.

And now the lightning round . . .

Ewan McGregor or Jude Law

I have no idea who this “Ewan” is.  I think I have seen Jude Law before?  I don’t remember being repulsed?

Yet, my eyes remain true to my non-cross-dressing Lumberjack:

Coke or Pepsi

Diet Pepsi, of course.
Cupcake or slice of pie
Apple pie or pumpkin pie

Neither.  I am a health nut.  Remember?
New or old version of Willy Wonka

Old
Capris or shorts

Capris.  Remember these bad boys?

The public thanks me.
right or left handed

Right.
Umbrella or poncho

Umbrella
beach or mountains

Beach
tomato or potato

Potato

From Tara:

And my Q for you: When was the last time you ate MOOSE TRACKS?? Was it THE Mother’s Day outing? I’m on my Oreo kick right now because the last 1/2 gallon of MOOSE TRACKS I ate had very little fudge swirl in it and made me want to write to the ice cream makers for it.

I had Moose Tracks on Sunday at the Amusement Park.  And I could not even finish it, the disappointment that I am.

Moose Tracks from the grocery store is no good.  But $4 waffle cone from a parlor is where its at.  I like the finer things in life.

From Katie:

What is your recipe for chicken/potato/artichoke dish?

I got this recipe from Shannon when I asked you all for simple dinner recipes:

Artichoke Chicken

1 can of artichoke hearts (or 1/3 of a Costco jar)
1 pound of chicken tenders cut into chunks (I use 12)
1 bag of small red potatoes (sliced)
2 cloves of garlic
juice of one lemon
2 TBSP olive oil
salt & pepper to taste

This meal is supper simple. I bake my potatoes in the microwave until just done. Cook chicken. In a large skillet combine cooked, diced chicken, potatoes, artichokes, olive oil, garlic & lemon. Saute until potatoes are a nice golden brown. Season with salt & pepper to taste. Delightful!

Yes.  Shannon originally wrote “supper” simple, instead of “super” simple and I found it to be a snazzy typo.

From Wendy:

Let me see…do you plan to home school all of your kids until they graduate? Or just until you go stark-raving mad?

I have NO idea.

But Daisy Mae will oft ask if we can do homeschool college, so I fear I am in it for the long haul.
Does the Lumberjack plan to live in Ruralville for the rest of his life? Or will you move back to civilization?

He told me on day one that he would love to die here.  Which was an odd thing to say, but, this is his dream and we cannot fault him for that, even if we cannot understand it.

From Jessy H:

Ok, my questions
1.) So, I follow 6 blogs. Why is it, that 4 or 5 of those 6 decide to takes breaks at the same time? Do they not realize that I read them and only them and they shouldn’t all leave me at the same time!? Do they not realize that I stay home with no adult interaction through-out the day and reading them is how I feel like I am surrounded by adults?

No.  I do not think they realize.  My sympathies.
2.) I also am turning 30 this year and have not yet had the facial hair problem. Is this really something that is going to happen to me? When did you (oops, your friend) start seeing the facial hair?

I don’t have facial hair, so I don’t know what you are talking about.  I am flawless.

From Rachel:

 I also have a question for you. Despite loving your lumberjack, lumberjacklings, and lumberjillings and enjoying (?) your country-living lifestyle I feel I may safely assume this is not the life you dreamed of. So when you were a young lass what did you think your life would be like when you were 30?

NO!  Yet here I am.  It is my lot in life, my burden to bear.

From Joyce

Here is my question-does the LJ know he’s pushing his luck with the handlebar thing?

Let me let you all in on a little secret:  I can’t let LJ know when he is pushing my buttons.  It will not end well for me.

When we were first married, my romantic and doting husband used to pin me down on the ground and restrain my arms.  Then he would proceed to slowly let a . . .  how do you say it . . . loogie?, drop from his lips, dangle in front of my nose, and then he would suck it back up.

Hands off, ladies.  He is all mine.

Well, I would scream and kick and buck and yell and fake cry and try all sorts of things to get him to stop.  This only encourages him.

It was when I feigned indifference that he finally stopped.

Therefore and henceforth, I shall shrug and say “Whatever you want, hon” when he mentions the handlebars.  As long as I remain steadfast in this lie, he will not get handlebars.

I hope.

From Suzanne:

How in the world do you stay sane and positive living in ruralville? I’m from a beautiful coastal town in Florida that I miss every. single. day. and I now live in S. Alabama (SIIIIGGGGGHHHHH) and I have a very hard time staying sane and positive living here. On top of that, I don’t have nearly as much on my plate as you do-I have no kids so obviously I don’t homeschool. HOW do you do it?!

I have no idea.

Just kidding.  Well, life isn’t THAT bad for me.  God has blessed me and I am thankful for this house and all the land we have now.  I do love homeschooling my children, as challenging as it is.  I have a husband who loves me and takes care of us who doesn’t have handlebars and stopped spitting loogies on me. 

Moving here meant a lot to my husband.  He is very appreciative of my willingness to do so and he is happier, so I am happier.

***

Thanks for all the questions, you all rocked my world.

Tonight I am going on a farewell tour with my children’s ministry peeps.

Yes.  None of you probably knew this because I rarely speak of such things, but I was in leadership for children’s ministry for 6 years and I just stepped down.

They are all devastated, I can assure you.

Here we all are. 

Yes.  We look awesome, this cannot be helped.

No!  I am not completely stepping down.

David and I shall be serving in an elementary aged room from here on out.

Don’t tell David, but I signed him up to lead worship on stage.  It’s right up his alley.

Happy Tuesday!

Ever since I turned 30, my life got super busy and I have had no time for this blogging nonsense.

Maybe I am now too old for such things.

Every time someone hears that I am now thirty, their eyes get all big.

“Wow.  I’m sorry!”

“Oh . . . . 30, huh?”

“Hey, Dave!  You gotta find a new wife now!  Yours is so old!”

And that last one is just plain nonsense because David knows he shall never find a wife to move to Ruralville and put up with his trophy buck staring at her all the livelong day.

My mother had the day off on Friday and whenever my mother has a day off during the summer-ish months, she is bound and determined to go to the beach.  And every time she has a day off, the weather is frigid. 

And yet, she refuses to retreat.

So, on Friday, I was chilly and wearing my winter layers and trying to get all the kids swimstuff packed to humor my mother who must be getting crazy because she is 51 and all now.

And we drive all the way into town and, *gasp*, we determined it was too cold to go the beach.  This displeased Little Dude and he just kept yelling at me:

“Go to BEACH!  Go to BEACH NOW!”

He is such a well-behaved boy.  So, my mom decided we should take all the kids to skating rink.

Because that sounds easy.

Whilst skating, Handsome Dude was a bit ahead of me and I noticed him having some trouble with his glasses.

Shocking, I know.

So, I tried to pull Little Dude as fast as I could and got there just in time for another little boy, about 7 years old, helping him.

And that, my friends, is just fantastic, and I hope my boys will someday be that helpful and polite . . .

One can only hope.

So, the little boy had put Handsome Dude’s lens back in the frame for him and off Handsome Dude went.

And moments later, both lenses just popped out of the frames and onto the floor of the local roller rink.

My poor boy.  He finally gets responsible with the glasses (and I use the term “responsible” quite loosely)  (quite), and now he is plagued with “lenses-randomly-popping-out” syndrome.

So, that was fun and and I had to call my dapper husband who came and picked Handsome Dude up, took him to the eye glasses clinic, where everybody knows our name, and they just decided to superglue his glasses together.

This excites me!  Hopefully his lenses won’t just pop out anymore.

I am 30 now.  These are the things that excite me.

Maybe I should take up knitting.

On Saturday, we stayed at home all day and it was the first time in months that Mr. Lumberjack got to stay a full 24 hours at his dream house that he forgets to live at.

He was in a jolly good mood and I was able to convince him that he needed to help the kids clean ALL the rabbit poop from around the bunny hutches.

And he did!

Attention Wives:  Please submit your husbandly queries to me and I, the expert that I obviously am, shall help you achieve the results you desire.

So, I went inside and turned on my Taylor Swift, because even though I am 30, I am not too old for Taylor Swift, and I cooked up some elk meat for lunch.

Attention Wives:  I live in Ruralville with peach walls and deer heads staring at me while I cook my husband up some elk for lunch.  Don’t bother sending your queries.  Instead, send me your advice on how I can get out of this mess.  Thank you.

No!  I did not partake of the elk for my meal, you silly readers, you!

That’s crazy talk.

On Sunday, David’s work treated everyone to a day at the amusement park.

I know what you are thinking, dear readers.

Elk!  Rabbits!  Roller rinks!  Beaches!  Winter weather in June!  Amusement Parks!

Where does this Lumberjill live?

I know, I know.  So mysterious, so exciting.  Yes.  That is my life.

Here we are with our lovely selves, getting all amused at the park.

Fun Fact:  I took none of these pictures.  A fellow worker of David’s did.

David probably thought he was safe from anyone else seeing these pictures.

Yet, his coworker was armed with a smart phone and the power of The Facebook, which is what all made these pictures possible for you today.

Handsome Dude thought he was driving a car for reals.  He was pretty elated and thrilled and all that.

A lot of David’s coworkers were a bit surprised to see him there.

“Dave!  I didn’t think this was your thing!”

“So, you made it all the way from Ruralville, huh?”

“I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be at home ‘sticking it to the man'”

Ha!

It’s a good thing David has such humorous people in his life to tease him endlessly.

It’s good for him.

At the aforementioned amusement park, there is also a water park (I know! I told you my life was exciting!).  Little Dude fell and scraped up his leg a bit. 

I found a lifeguard person and asked her if she had a bandaid.

She told me I had to find a paramedic.

?

So I found the paramedic and asked her if she had a bandaid.

She told me I had to come with her to the First Aid Station.

So, she had to make the small talk, don her gloves, clean the wound, give the boy a sucker, try to understand the words the boy was saying, give him a bandaid, and took her time lovingly picking out a sticker for him.

Which was super nice and all.

But I just needed a bandaid.

I know what you are thinking.

“Taylor!  Why do you not already carry bandaids around?  Have you met your children?”

I know, I know.

I guess I like to live on the wild side.

So, that was our weekend, as exciting as it was.

Oh!  I leave for Las Vegas on Saturday!

I hope to lose 10 pounds by then.

Wish me luck!

Summer came yesterday and it came with a bang.  I went to the park with my friend MindyLou and we were hot like lava.

It was like . . . 80.  Our hearty, winter bodies are not yet acclamated to things such as sun and warmth and skies that are blue.

MindyLou has a son named Levi and Handsome Dude thinks he’s the bee’s knees.  Yet, Handsome Dude never remembers his bff’s name.

“Hey, Caleb!”

“Hey, Riley!”

“Hey, Byron!”

“Hey, Caden!”

“Hey, guy!”

“Hey, Isaac!”

Strangely, Levi answers to all names, which further proves these two boys are a match made in heaven.

Today we are home and summer has left us.  I am back to wearing socks and my black Cabela’s jacket, which always makes me look fetching.  We are having some serious bouts of thunder and lightning.

Little Dude is terrified of the thunder.  He finds it to be wee scary.  Whenever he is scared, he can’t seem to control his upper lip.

He’s all shook up.

(get it?)

So, I guess that was it for us for summer.  It was nice while it lasted.

In other news, this is the day of my birth. 

It’s true.  I’m 30 now.  I’m one of THOSE people.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Just weird.

I woke up to flowers from my adoring husband and a present compiled by Daisy Mae.  I had to remove my husband’s card so my children would not see it, as it was flagged for adult content.

Hi, Dad! 

Daisy Mae’s present was sweet and it is obvious she is the only child who really loves me, seeing as how Little Dude just told me it was really his birthday, Handsome Dude is just mad because I won’t give him “lo-gurt” round the clock, and Sweet Pea says:

“Sorry, Mom.  I don’t have any money.”

Turns out Daisy Mae is a bit of a “re-gifter.”  She gave me her strawberry lotion and lip balm that she received from her friend.  She gave me a bookmark somebody gave me about 5 years ago and a few other knick knacks she found around the house.

Her card is super cute:

Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday

It is you”r Birthday!

We celebraet it.  We now You 30.

Love, Daisy Mae

I hop you have a Happy Day

Wow

Nise!

Love you

prfikt

Happ BirthDay

I wish you good luck

And now for some most excellent news:  I am going on a trip next week to Las Vegas with my Marmie and my Auntie Datenutloaf.

Me:  Mom.  What are we going to do in Vegas?

Mom:  Look at hotels, shop, yuck it up by the pool.

Yuck it up? 

Yes.  Let’s yuck.

?

Moms are weird.

Sister Meagan might join us.

Let us take this moment to encourage her to do so.

*Thank you*

Well.  I’m signing off.  I am hoping to watch Veggie Tales with the Fab Four via my Netflix instant thingie-ma-bob.

This will most likely frustrate me, seeing as how I can’t ever get it to load at a speed I deem acceptable.

But I love me some Bob and Larry.

And popcorn.

And Diet Pepsi.

Happy Thursday!

Alright.  I wrote an entire post already today, and you can read all about it here.

It tells you all about these bad boys:

No.  You can’t borrow them.

(By the way, I think my inlaws are sincerely proud of me and gave these to me as sort of a recognition that I have finally come to join their side.)

(Have I?)

Anyways, I must tell you that in order for us to get this picture captured in time . . .

we had to stand by that waterfall for like 2 minutes.  Which is a long time when trying to photograph such a happy family.

My father-in-law was the one taking the pictures for me and the above one was the best one. 

 I was perplexed, dear reader . . .  dumbfounded, if you will.

Couldn’t there have been a better one?

Well, dear readers, it turns out that Pa-in-law was confused and was using the video function.

It happens.

So, here is a 10 second video of us posing for a picture

video-2011-06-18-14-38-36

Yes, you have to click on it.  But it is only 10 seconds and it is hilarious and you need to watch it and then come back and then we will talk about it and how many more times can I say “and” and continue this sentence?

Ok.  Did you watch it?

Let’s discuss.

1.  Watch Sweet Pea.  She is on the left.  As soon as she thinks the picture is taken, watch her face completely deflate.  Hilarious.

2.  Let us all consider Handsome Dude’s stance and ponder to ourselves what on earth he is doing.

Does this have anything to do with the explosive diarrhea that would visit him the next morn?

3.  David, the happy man that he is, does not change his facial expression.  Once.

4.  Does it look like I am fake smiling?

Cause I am.

5.  Daisy Mae wins.  Hands down.

And she is not even looking at the camera.

6.  Little Dude needs a better attention span.

7.  Lucy gets second place.

Alright.  That was all.  I thought it was funny.

Carry on.

PS-tell me if the video does not work, ok?  Roger?  10-4?