The Lumberjack's Wife

When will SUMMER come?  I mean, honestly.  We need to break into the 70’s here at some point.  It’s JUNE. 

And all you goodie-goodies who live in the southlands can drawl on  all you want about the heat and your sweet tea and whatnot, but I am still wearing pants, drinking hot coffee, and sometimes, wearing my Cabelas jacket.

Because I now wear a Cabelas jacket.  As if I couldn’t get any stranger.

Oh, wait!  I can!

For this, my upcoming 30th birthday, my inlaws got me my first pair of Carhartt’s.  Yes.  I am sporting the “bib overalls” with a lovely flannel shirt, perfect for a day of hard-work-fun in Ruralville.

My inlaws.

Them are wild and crazy. 

So, yes.  They thought they were all hilarious and gave me those Carhartt overalls.  The flannel shirt is actually from the Gap circa 1993, so I guess that is kind of ironic . . . don’t you think? 

(name that music artist)

  (it’s really easy.  don’t let me down.)

Back to the subject at hand:

You would NOT believe how huge these things are.  I’m not sure how to take that.  I mean, yay for things swimming on me, but boo for people thinking they might fit my girth in the first place.

Dislcaimer:  This photo was taken at 8:30pm after a fun day of child-rearing, laundry, trailer cleaning, and outside work.  Which is why I look the way that I do. 

The astute reader might notice the flowers in the picture.  I am hoping you did because, I said, and I quote,

“David!  Take a picture of me in these Carhartts next to the flowers you got me! Make sure you get the flowers!  And make me look thin!”

I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah received flowers from my doting husband last Friday.  And this was before he ever saw me in those Carhartts.

You may ask:  “Taylor!  How did you do that?

Well, dear readers, it was really quite simple.

Step #1-Tell your husband you want him to bring you flowers.

Step #2-Wait at least a year, give or take a few months, for him to finally buy you some because he feels it is dumb to get flowers within the same year you ask him. 

Step #3- Get the entire family ready to go camping all by yourself because your husband is working long hours.

Step #4-On the day of blissful camping departure, become all stressed-like when you see that your boys have hauled dirt into the house (?) and your girls TOLD you they took care of the rabbits, when alas, they did not.

Step #5-Slam your head smack into the roof of the rabbit hutch whilst doing your rabbit inspection.

Step #6- Stupid rabbits.

Step #7- Mutter and/or shout “I never wanted this kind of life!”

Step #8-Return inside to your peach house just in time to get a call from your unsuspecting husband who is on a “WOO-HOO!  I’M GOING CAMPING!!!” high

Step #9- Basically throw a fit because you are tired and cranky and your head hurts and who has time to worry about rabbits anyways?

Step #10- Receive flowers from your husband.

Step #11- Become slightly bummed that the flowers came mere minutes before leaving for the weekend.

Step #12-Briefly consider bringing the aforementioned flowers camping so you can enjoy them. 

Step #13- Deem that to be considered too high maintenance from the fellow camp-goers.

Step #14- Enjoy flowers when you return from blissful camping trip.

Speaking of rabbits, nobody cared to guess yesterday as to how many little baby bunnies we have.

25.

Speaking of yesterday, Mindee was perplexed as to how I was able to tow a fully-equipped toilet behind the rig to accommodate Handsome Dude’s explosive diahrrea.

Mindee!  We were towing our camp trailer!

Keep up!

Yes.  We would just pull over to the side of the road and take him on inside.  It was super classy.

Darling reader Joyce had an idea that I liked.  She suggested I have my readers come up with a caption for our family camping photo and the idea tickled my fancy.

So, leave a comment with an idea for a caption, if you feel so inclined.

Happy Tuesday!

PS-I’m not 30 yet.  Just to keep the record straight.

PPS- It is true.  My husband is growing sideburns.

PPPS-I’ll shall have this day for mourning.

We have returned from a funtastic camping weekend.  And funtastic, is, of course, open to interpretation.  Because sometimes, I’m just not so sure about this whole camping thing . . .

But that is neither here nor there.

You know what is really a treat?

Camping with kids.

Wanna make it more fun?

Camping with kids in the rain.

Wanna make it ecstatic?

Camping hair.

So, we went on a hike to some waterfalls.

Dang.  We are one photogenic family.

Alex and Holly:

Lisa and baby girl #2

Sweet Pea

Alex

(He’s such a show-off)

David and Little Dude . . .

“Please, Taylor.  Enough with the pictures.”

“Honestly, Mother.  Enough is enough.”

I would like to show you all a little sampling of the amount of wood my husband feels is necessary for a weekend camping trip:

I didn’t help unload it.

I had “conveniently” misplaced my work gloves.

Darn.

Fun Fact:  I don’t have work gloves.  And I don’t plan on getting any.

(See the aforepictured wood pile.)

(Yes. I made up the word aforepictured.  This is why you like me.)

Little Dude turned 3!  Can we believe it? 

 No we cannot.

I wonder if Bimlissa is going to make any hoity-toity remarks about his hairstyle.  Not that SHE would ever do such a thing.

Hmph.

Do you know how dirty children get while camping?  It’s shocking, really.  I mean, it’s expected that one gets dirty and grimy while camping.  My kids take it to a whole new level.

When I asked Little Dude what kind of cake he wanted, all he said was:

“Brown.”

Little Dude walks around and says:

“I love brown, I love mommy, I love brown.”

Fun fact:  I have brown eyes.  He is smitten.

This is why I love this kid.  You all know just how awesome I am at creative cakes . . .

So, I just made him Darn Good Chocolate Cake.

On Sunday morning, Handsome Dude woke up feeling a bit sick.  So, that made for an interesting ride home.

I’ll tell you one thing that ain’t two things:  When you have a four year old with explosive diarrhea, you come to truly appreciate the fact that you are towing behind you a fully equipped toilet.

The explosiveness of it all added about an hour to our drive home.

My grammy used to always say that phrase: “I’ll tell you one thing that ain’t two things . . . “

I never understood it.  So I am now saying it to you.

You’re welcome.

We came home and let Little Dude open his presents.

Please ignore his strange pants/underwear combination.  And ignore the fact that he is wearing his sister’s panties.

When your brother is blowing through all the boy underwear, it’s hard for a mama to keep up.

Yes.  I have community “boy” underwear and community “girl” underwear.  And I stand firmly in my beliefs.

I also have a community sock basket.

Life is too short for such tedious sorting.

I do, however, believe in individualistic toothbrushes.  As should you.

Alright.  I must leave you now.

Happy Father’s Day to all the awesome Dads out there . . .

Such as mine.

PS-100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can guess how many baby bunnies we have in our “hare-um”

PPS-Do you get it?

PPPS- I think we should paint a sign called, “David’s Hare-um.”  thoughts?

PPPPS-500 (meaningless) points to anyone who can guess what my inlaws got me for my birthday.

Hint:  It’s something to wear.  And it might make you want to send out a rescue mission.

Peace out, dudes!

I know I still have some questions to answer, but I must inform you of a recent happenstance.

This post, of which I am about to write, is guaranteed to make you feel better about your day.

Maybe.

Before we proceed, I must warn you that this post shall talk about poop.

A lot.

Since I consider myself a lady, I shall not be littering this page with “poop” this and “poop” that.  No.  I am far too high-class for that business.

From here on out, “poop” shall be referred to as “the unmentionable.”

Even though I have already mentioned it many times thus far.

***

Earlier today, Handsome Dude walked by me and said, “Hi, Mom!  I not smell poop!”

(I know, I know.  But it would be weird if he called poop, “the unmentionable.”  I shall call it the unmentionable starting now.)

(I promise.  Don’t leave.)

I looked at him and did a visual check for “the unmentionable.”  Since I didn’t see anything amiss, I went back to loading the camp trailer.

You may ask, “Taylor!  Have you not met your son, Handsome Dude?  Warning!  Danger! Something is wrong!”

I know, dear readers.  I know.  But when a gal, such as myself, is getting her family of six ready for a weekend of wilderness fun, she tends to remain vigiliant on her tasks at hand.

A little while later, I noticed the bathroom door was locked.  Trust me, this is not rare with my dudes.

Have you met them?

Anyways.  Who has time to prompty unlock a bathroom door?  Certainly not me.  So, I went about my camping tasks, when I noticed a foul order permeating from the aforementioned locked bathroom.

The odor was unmentionable.

(Do you get it?)

So, I went to find the metal thingie that my husband supplied me with for emergencies such as this.

You KNOW, readers!  The metal thingie.  It’s like . . .long . . . and thin? And you stick it in the door?  And you wiggle a lot and poof! the door unlocks.

Well, I couldn’t find it.  But I did find a random twig laying on the ground.  I would like to say this is rare, but we all know that would be a lie.

The twig was long and thin and looked eerily like a metal thingie.  So, I tried that and darn my luck the twig broke off and became lodged in the door handle where it still sits there at this very hour.

No!  I did not tell my husband!  I am hoping he will never notice.  And if he does notice, he will probably figure one of the dudes did it.

Have you met them?

Lucky for us, he doesn’t read this blog, so we’ll just keep the whole twig incident between us.

Finally, I found the metal thing and was able to open the door.

And would you like to know what I found when I opened that door?

The largest “unmentionable” known to man sitting right there on the bathroom floor, mere inches away from the toilet.

It was so large, I did not know from whence it could have come.  But after a bit of deductive reasoning and the process of elimination (no pun intended), I determined the unmentionable item had to have come from Handsome Dude.

But, why?

He has never unmentioned anything on the floor in the past.  And why did he choose to unmention mere inches from the toilet?

So, I cornered my Handsome Dude.

Me:  Dude.  Mommy saw the bathroom.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!) What bafroom?

Me:  The guest bathroom.

(Attention all would-be guests to Ruralville.  You might want to do a sanitation check before using our hospitable, guest bathroom.  Over and out.)

HD:  Mommy’s bafroom?

Me:  No, the guest bathroom.

HD:  The downstairs bafroom?

Me:  No, the guest bathroom.  Mommy saw what was in there.

HD:  Huh?

Me:  I want you to tell me what happened.  I want you to tell me the truth.  You won’t be in trouble, just don’t lie to me.

HD:  Ummm . . . I think Cokey peed in there?  I not know?

Me:  Buddy.  I saw it.  Don’t lie.  Just tell the truth.

HD:  I not know.  Nufing happened?  I not know.

So, my dude declined to tell the truth at first, but finally he owned up to it.

HD:  I was going potty and I was standing and then I just had to go poo and I not stop it and it went on the floor!

(cry, wail, sob)

HD:  And I try to pick it up and it was too hard.

(cry, wail, sob)

Me:  So you just locked the door and left?

HD:  Yes!

(cry, wail, sob)

Me:  Did you wash your hands?

HD:  No!  Why?

*sigh*

So, today was a funky adventure.

I’m sorry for all the bathroom talk.

Good night.

PS-Diet Vanilla Pepsi is God’s gift to diet sodas.

PPS-It smells like up-dog in here.

Alright!  Are you ready for some more questions and answers?

Sure you are!

From Katie B:

What is your favorite summer activity? Aside from the joys of camping and huckleberry picking.

Ha!  The JOYS of camping and huckleberry picking.   What-ev.

Fun Fact:  I just looked in my freezer and found 8 cups of precious huckleberries still waiting for my husband to approve them for wasteful, human consumption.

Aren’t they probably bad by now?

It’s just so scary to use those precious berries.  I mean, what is worthy of a huckleberry?

A milk shake?

A pie?

A pancake?

They all seem so trivial in the grand scheme of things . . .

Well.  I would LOVE to travel.  I don’t care where.  Just anywhere that isn’t here and doesn’t require our camp trailer, 4 wheeler, the lack of electrical appliances, and 15 gas cans.

But, I do like reading a good book during the summer and relaxing a bit.  I guess that’s it. 

Oh, and I LOVE me some moose tracks ice cream in a waffle cone.

And I love to eat one while wearing a swimsuit and wondering why I hate wearing a swimsuit.

Cause I’m brilliant like that.

From Kristy:

Question…I know not of where you live, but I am assuming it is someplece that people want to vacation? Do you have any problem finding renters for your rental property during the summer months? What kinds of fun might a renter expect to have while vacationing at your rental property? Are there touristy things to do? Or is it more of a relaxing place?

We don’t have any problems because our house is so close to the lake.  Yes, we do advertise and we are almost all booked up for the summer already!

What kinds of fun can the tourist expect?

Well.  They could . . . um . . . go to the lake.  Except right now it is freezing.  They could shop?  Eat?  Huckleberry pick?

Honestly, I have no idea why people want to come here.

But if them coming here means my house payment gets made, then who am I to judge?

And . . . it is beautiful in these here parts . . .

I better stop posting pictures.  You guys might find out I live in Hawaii.

And we wouldn’t want that.

From Sharyl and The Little Brown House:

Question: How are the Varicose Veins? Still gone? Do you ever pull out the white hose for fun?

Dear readers.  Did you know that I had a gnarly case of the varicose veins whilst pregnant with the boys?

I had to have a procedure to get them taken care of.  It was awful:

Sadly, they are still there.  I think the doctor just wanted my monies.  I’ve grown to like them.  I feel they add interest to the back of my legs.

Oh, I have a HILARIOUS story about the veins.  But in order to share it, I would need to make sure that no men were reading that day.  Nor my dad.  Nor anyone who goes to church with me.  Or basically anyone I would ever have to see again.

Just too many risks . . . but trust me.  You would have laughed.

Sharyl, you can have my tights and repurpose them into a table runner or something.

Question 2: Is there any painting plan in your summer agenda? We know you love peach walls….they may even be the instigator of the vomit…just sayin.

No plans to paint.  We are too tired and old.

Just you wait . . . peach is the new “it” color.

I’m bringing it back, baby!

From Erin:

I have always wanted to do a q&a post on my blog, but have been too afraid that no one would ask me any questions.
So my question to you– do you think anyone would ask me any questions?

Yes, Erin.  If I can coerce people to ask me questions, surely you can.  And if no one does, just delete the post and pretend it never happened!

Win-win!

Not that I would ever do such a thing.

From Lisa Bunchanan

What curriculum do you use and what do you do with your littlest while the other are schooling?

I read a book called The Well-Trained Mind and I fell in love with it.  So, I follow that for the most part.

This will be boring for non-homeschooling people, and maybe boring for even homeschooling people, but here is what I do:

Bible:  God’s Great Covenant

Grammar:  First Language Lessons

Spelling:  All about Spelling and Spelling Workout

Phonics:  Ordinary Parents Guide to Teaching Reading and Explode the Code

Writing:  Writing with Ease and 4 Square

History:  Story of the World

Science:  Apologia:  Human Anatomy with JR notebooks

Math:  We did Saxon, but it wasn’t for us.  We started doing Math U See and we loved it!  But it doesn’t follow our state standards very well.  So next year we are doing Math Connects (to meet standards) and supplementing with Math U See

Besides.

Who DOESN’T love doing two math programs?

Art:  Artistic Pursuits

Next year, we are adding Latin and using Prima Latina.

Look at us with our big homeschooling pants on!

The boys.

*sigh*

They usually just play trucks or trains and generally are disruptive and messy and, well, boys.

I am going to be more organized with them this next year and have a better plan for things for them to do.

I am open to suggestions!

In other words:  help!

Happy Wednesday!

David has been working late a lot these days.  Daisy Mae wrote him a little note:

“To Dad.  Love you so muck.  Wi do you have to wrk so lat.”

Uber cute.

Remind me to speak to her spelling teacher immediately.

***
Hold on to your pants, folks.  It’s time for some questions and answers.

From Micah:

The blurb about wearing the same underwear everyday for a week is priceless… does your husband ever read your blog and shriek “Holy cow, you told everyone that?!”

Yeah.  My husband doesn’t read this nonsense. 

He’s too busy scouring the farm and garden section of Craigslist and trying to find a part for his dozer.

Fun Fact:  The home and garden section of Craigslist is our home page.  Exciting stuff.

From Mindee:

Question: What are you going to do with all those baby bunnies? Will you have the mamas spayed now or are you going to add “rabbit breeder” to your list of job titles?

True story: When I was a child, we lived in the mountains in a very rural environment for three loooooong years. Our neighbors up the road bred rabbits – and then ate them. Given that you eat elk and deer, rabbit wouldn’t be too big of a stretch.

Dear Mindee,

I resent the fact that you think I would raise rabbits for to eat them.  I can barely eat chicken.

Nay.  The girls are trying to sell them as PETS to earn MONEY for a HORSE.

And just to ward off any more suspicions, no we are not eating “horse”.

Even if you think it sounds like something we would do.

I am normal, people!  I really am!  It’s that darn husband of mine.  He’s the hick-ish one.

From Holly:

Question: Who vomited?

On that day, it was Sweet Pea.  Today, Daisy Mae did.

From Heather (not the nurse and not living in ND)

Are you sure that’s not a store bought shed? It looks just like one of those sheds that sits outside of the Home Depot store that are for sale. Nice work Lumberjack, nice work indeed.

Oh yes, Heather who is not a nurse and does not reside in North Dakota, I am sure.  I helped him load the lumber.  I watched him lay out the trusses, or whatever in the heck the triangle shaped things are.  I saw him side it.  I saw him roof it.  I saw him build his own door.

I even saw his tool belt.

That’s right.  Tool belt.

Hands off, ladies.  He’s all mine.

From Beth

Your house looks great! Congratulations! So where do we go to rent this little bit of Heaven on Earth?

You go to the town I used to live in, of course.  It is quite a lovely town . . . I will have to ask Sir Lumberjack why it is he moved me so far, far away from it.

Our house is/was close to the lake.

Look at my dudes!  Back when they wore Baby Gap and not Carhartt for kids . . .

The house is even close to parks . . .

Where we used to run into good friends . . .

Holla, MindyLou!

It’s a lovely place.  I might need to move back.

Guess what!  Today marks one year since we moved to Ruralville.

I need ice cream.

From Aimee

My questions are: What do you wish that veteran homeschool Moms (like myself) would have told you before you started homeschooling? What did you think was the hardest part of this year? What did you think was the easiest? I think you truly need to be commended Way to go! How did your girls win that award?

Hmmm . . .

I wish they would have told me to relax a bit.  I think I stressed too much and over did some things.

For example:  I use two different curricula (ooh!  a fancy word!) for spelling, social studies, writing, and science.

Because I am strange.  And annoying.  And still trying to figure out what in the heck I am doing.

Hardest part of the year:  Dealing with the boys and worrying about whether or not I was doing things right.

Easiest part:  Actually teaching the girls.  We had a blast and we love most of our curriculum.  And the stuff we don’t love is getting the boot.

Win, win!

The award-I think they had to submit work that was at grade level or above all year long and test at proficient in the state testings.  Also, I think they looked at their portfolio work.

I’m pretty sure they give the award to every kid and his brother.

But let us commend me nonetheless.

***

Alright!  That’s all for now!  I shall answer more later.

(feel free to leave a question if you’d like)

But, first I must inform you that I just spoke with my husband on his cellular device and he is going to attempt to bring me a BLIZZARD from DAIRY QUEEN.

Do you think the Blizzard will make the 45 minute drive?

Do you?

My husband does have a spiffy lunch box cooler.

Yum.  I’m getting Oreo.

Jealous?

Do you ever have a hard time trying to figure out how to start a blog post?

Me neither.

So, this weekend was a super busy one.  There is this massive yard sale that happens once a year in the regions about which we live.  The entire town has their yard sales on one day.  It’s genius, I tell ya.  So, we loaded up the lumberjacklings at 6:30am and headed off to find our deals.

David bought nothing, because nothing tickled his fancy.  Mainly because there was nothing with large motors and oil and wires and drills and pans and saws and horns and camo and whatnot.  I purchased my usual items:  clothing for children and other junk I think the kids need, but they really don’t.

We joined up with some peeps for the yard sale.  David’s sister, Lisa, offered to take Little Dude with her to the bathroom at one point when she was taking her 2 year old.  I looked at her like she was an insane, crazy person and said:

“Yes, please!”

She was gone FOR-EV-ER.  I learned that she had to take them to an outhouse, which means I need to buy Lisa a Starbucks post haste.  When she returned, she looked a little frazzled, which was to be expected.  But then she informed me that she had accidentally dropped Little Dude’s shoe into the toilet, as in the outhouse toilet, as in DISGUSTING, OH MY GOODNESS, SO GROSS, NASTINESS.

She assured me to not worry because she was able to retrieve it.

*GASP*

She stuck her arm down an outhouse toilet to save my son’s shoe, of which he will probably grow out of next week anyways.

Let us all have a moment to commemorate the courageous and thrifty spirit of my sister in law, Lisa.

*Thank you*

Later that evening, we walked down yonder country road to the bison ranch.

Yes.

I live near a bison ranch.

Do you?

The Bison Rancher Peoples were having a BBQ and invited peoples from all around to feast at their ranch.

Do not worry, dear readers.  I did not try any meat, because I did not know what animal the meat came from.  And there were no labels.  And I’m not going to eat bison, I’ll tell you that right now.

The Bison Rancher Peoples are nice, friendly peoples and the kids had a blast.  They were able to take rides on the horse.

Sweet Pea

Little Dude and Daisy Mae.

Things to notice:

1)  Daisy Mae had just purchased that hat at the garage sales earlier that day.  Despite my instructions that she needed to launder it before wearing it, as you can see, she elected to not heed my advice and donned the grody garage sale hat and all the germs it may or may not have contained.

2)  I tried to prevent it, but I have four children and I no longer have time to care.

  I wash my hands of it.

3)  I put this picture on The Facebooks and my dearheart friend, who shall remain nameless, told me that my son looked like Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber.

source

I am shunning her.  Until I get tired of shunning her.

I shan’t tell you who it was, because I am above such pettiness and wouldn’t want you all to shun her as well.

In an effort to de-Lloyd-ify my son, I tried to make him look all snazzy this morning for church.

It’s obvious I’ve missed my calling in life.

Oh, look!  A random hanger lying on my floor!

That’s weird.

I’m usually the epitomy of togetherness.

After church today, we went to an appreciation BBQ for children’s ministry.

Because we serve in children’s ministry and we need to be appreciated.

Oh, yes.  We do.

David was talking with some other manly-men about boats and motors and other dreadfully boring matters.  I took the three eldest over to the water park feature thingie and he was in charge of Little Dude.

So, as I was happily chatting away with a friend, you can imagine my shock when I saw a pasty-white boy, who looked remarkably like Little Dude, in camo underwear strutting his stuff around the water park.

I hurried over and apologized to the group of ladies that he was obviously trying to impress.

Ladies:  It’s ok, honey.  We did help him put his underwear on, though.  We thought he shouldn’t be naked.

*oh, dear*

It’s a good thing David and I serve in children’s ministry at church.  Obviously the children at church are left in good, capable hands.

Oh, stop, readers!

I’m sure your kids have also stripped naked at the church BBQ.

Get off your high horses.

1.  I invited my sister and her friend over for dinner this week. 

 David was working late and I was feeling like a hostess with the mostess.  I texted my sister and invited her, sure that I would impress her with my ability to throw together a delicious meal on a whim with four children running amok.  After she agreed, I remembered that her friend is a vegetarian.  For a brief moment, I considered serving elk. 

 You know. 

For kicks and grins. 

Instead, I went with my original plan to make an easy chicken/potato/artichoke dish.  So, me being the aforementioned hostess with the mostess served my vegetarian guest potatoes and artichokes.

Yum.

And I undercooked the potatoes.  They were a tad crunchy.

Yum.

And I was almost out of artichokes, so basically I served her raw potatoes.

She ate a lot of salad.  A lot.

She was probably thinking that elk sounded mighty tasty.

2.  I have a cold sore.  And it’s gnarly.  The kids tell me all day long that I need to wipe my mouth because I have pizza sauce on it.

It is sad that they think I eat pizza round the clock, is it not?

3.  I lost 2 pounds while trying to keep up with my husband this weekend while working on the rental house.

That isn’t really a confession.  More of a boasting.  Just thought I would throw it in there to make you all green with envy.

4.  Don’t worry.  I am sure to gain it back within the hour.  I might make pizza for lunch.

5.  I looked outside yesterday and saw that our dog,  Lucy,  had gotten into the garbage.

LucyFur

I decided that this warranted a “warning sound.”  Yes.  We have a certain collar, with certain features that works shockingly well for our naughty pup.  Well, I never have to  actually use it, but if I push the warning sound button, she knows she is being naughty and stops her mischievousness immediately.

Imagine my shock(hardy-har-har) when I discover that Lucy has also ripped off her collar and chewed it up along with the garbage.

LucyFur.

6.  Is it normal to get weird facial hair when you get close to turning 30?  Like, all down the side of your face?  Almost as if you were growing a beard?  But you’re not?

I’m just asking.

For a friend.

7.  I think my husband is growing sideburns.  Everytime I ask him, he denies my allegations and assures me I am crazy.

Yet, every time he shaves, he doesn’t shave his sideburns.

Perhaps I am being duped?

He has threatened for years to grow handlebars.

(Source)

I can handle moving to Ruralville.  I will permit a deer or two to hang on my wall and stare creepily at me for all eternity.  I will camp.  I will huckleberry pick.  I will pretend to like the sideburns.  I will, and do, serve him up some tasty elk for his supper.

But the handlebars just might do me in.

(If you, or someone you love, enjoy the look of the handlebar mustache, I mean you no ill-will)

8.  I held a baby bunny for the first time last night. 

I will admit, I was a little scared to hold one at first.

You may exclaim: “Taylor!  Baby bunnies are so cute!  Why would you be scared?!”

Well, dear readers.

That is just further proof of why I am not fit to live out here in Ruralville.

Yet, here I am.

It is my lot in life, my burden to bear.

9.  If a gal who was nearing 30 was to, in fact, be growing odd facial hair, how should she remove it?

My friend was wondering.

10.  I was chatting with someone this morning and they mentioned that they had to go to the doctor.

Ok.  So, I wasn’t chatting, per se.  I was Facebook messaging.

Online communication takes the place of all factual relationships!  It’s true!

Join the revolution!

Anyways.

She was mentioning how she had to go in for her yearly exam.

Ladies!  You know this exam of which I speak.

The yearly.

Hmmm?

I happily wished her luck and then it hit me.

My baby turned 1!  Like 2 years ago.

I probably should go in for my yearly.

But I probably won’t.

Ok, I might.

But I don’t want to.

***

That is all I have for today.

Go check out Kira’s blog for a humorous Fess Up Friday post.

She talks about meeting someone named Stacy Julian.

?

It’s ok.  I don’t know who that is either.

***

Also:  I am doing a questions and answers post next week so if you would like to leave a question you may.

But you don’t have to.

It’s not like I’m running out of things to talk about over here . . .

We can play name the rabbits or something.

Happy Friday!

It’s 8:20am and the kids are still sleeping.

Why?

Because we are exhausted, that’s why.

This whole “running a vacation rental” idea was a peach, I tell ya.  A peach.

But I have news of great joy:

We did it.

And when I say “we”, of course I mean . . . . WE.  Yes, that’s right.  I was awesome, too.  Although not quite as Superman-ish as my husband.

Do you remember his stress with building a shed?

He got ‘er done.

You see that bark that is nicely spread all around it?  That would be courtesy of yours truly.

So, my camera is broken and I only had my phone.  So, there won’t be many pictures.  But he built the fence, planted sod, re-routed the sprinklers, and yada yada yada.

And he did it all in 5 days.

Plus he planted MY flower bed:

There is another “Roadie” (or Rhodie, if you obsess about such matters) somewhere over there, but my picture-taking skills are less than par. 

I was Chief of Deep Cleaning the Entire House and I shall scream if I have to wipe down another baseboard.

I think David and I work quite well together.

Quite.

I must inform you, though, in the interest of full disclosure, that David was offered help and he accepted it.

Two friends came by to help and David hired two boys to help him as well.

They were awesome, even if they called me “Mrs. M” the whole time.

*GASP!*

I’m a “Mrs. M.”

What has become of me?

And to further prove that I was a super awesome worker, I shall now brag and show you this note my husband left me on this very morn:

It says, and I quote, “Love You Thanks for All your hard work .  David.”

Before we get too swooned, I must tell you, in the interest of full disclosure, that the majority of that note is instructions for me to follow on emailing a guy about some parts for the dozer.

Yes.  I know.

Wife of the Year.

***

The girls are finished with school for the year.

(darn)

I received an email congratulating me on both girls receiving the “Presidential Award.”
I thought it sounded quite prestigious and I informed my husband of our accomplishments post haste.

His response?

“Sounds like its pretty easy to get.”

Exqueeze me?  Baking powder?

(Name that movie)

I would like to know how many presidential achievements he has earned in his lifetime.

Whatever.

The email said I was to be commended.

Whatever.

***

Kids are now up and I’ve been informed there has been vomit.

My mood has significantly tanked.

Therefore, I shall end this post.

But before I go, I thought we could do a Questions and Answers Post again.

Here is how it works:

You ask a question about whatever and I shall answer it.

Alright!

That’s all!

Leave a question!

Or don’t.

The choice is truly yours.

Happy Thursday!