Ho, Ho, Ho

Old enough to confidently climb on Santa's lap, and young enough to still believe in magic.
What a perfect age.

Diet Plan

As soon as I saw the plastic freezer bag and the recipe attached, I moaned. I remember the summer both dh and I gained 5 pounds each from such a bag. You might as well fill it with lard and hang it directly from my belt loops. Evidently, someone at dh's work subscribe to the diet plan of making other people fat, so that one looks good by comparison.

If you have any friends at all, at some point in your life you will be "gifted" with an Amish Bread Starter. In my case, I might call it a curse, for the sourdough starter becomes a living thing (sometimes named) that cannot be let to die. It grows and multiplies, and people start crossing the street when they see you coming with a similar bag of goo. Feeling sorry for the living baggie of goo, it becomes a mission to find homes for them, holding them aloft at meetings and shouting out an invitation to join the growing ranks of the growing ranks.

Similarly, we've recently received a gift of Sea Monkeys which Wm declares is a "good pet". A very sensitive child, he is not going to allow a burial at "sea" aka toilet, when the SM food runs out. I am faced with ordering new food for critters that make my skin crawl. Aren't those the things in creeks that make you wish you hadn't drunk creek water?

Still, a gift is a gift. Dh loves Amish Sourdough Bread, though I question the title and suggest Amish Pound Cake. Perhaps the Amish, ploughing digging up their fields with a trowel can eat a loaf with a whole cup of oil in it. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Farm Notes
One Arucana chicken has begun laying again. For all my efforts and $8 in feed a month, I get about 25 eggs. I'm running a nursing home for chickens.

Today it should be warm, and I need to get the heat lamps put up for the chickens. I hate the cold.

The heated buckets are installed in the barn - the best horse invention after the stirrup. Beats the heck out of fronzen water buckets when it's 2 below. Did I mention I hate cold?

I Don't Think He "Gets" It

Today at Church, we stopped by the Jesse tree to pick a paper ornament on which was written the name of an underprivileged child and the present desired for that child. I deliberately chose a boy child around William's age as a possible lesson in how blessed we are.

When we returned home, I told him that the ornament told me what the child had asked for - socks and underwear. This child, I explained, didn't have all we have and has just asked to have new socks and underwear for Christmas. William looked up at me and in his sweet voice, declared, "Well, I have LOTS of socks and underwear so I don't need that and can ask for a Drivemax Megazord."

Not Your Mother's Little Black Dress

Years back, I bought a wine-coloured velvet dress from Victoria's Secret. It was, believe it or not, modest, long-sleeved, and though meant to be very short, hit my stubby legs just right. That dress disappeared into dd's closet a Christmas or two ago. Thinking maybe they might have another like it, I went onto their website to browse last night looking for me and dd for Christmas gatherings.

Let's just say that styles have um, progressed (or is that digressed?) and dd will not be getting a VS dress. Besides, it has to be harmful to contort one's breasts to pop up over the neckline in such an obvious display. Still, I was fascinated with one feature: you can click on the color swatches and change the color of the dress. I thought that was fun.

Dh, arriving home from work looked over my shoulder. "They forgot one button," he said. "They need one with no dress at all." And, I don't think he was trying to gauge the success of that particular style of dress on the model.

Later, I thanked him for fodder for my blog. He said that the whole website erroneously assumed that he was even looking at the dress.

Extra Protein

All families have food disaster stories. In fact, when Chris invited her readers to blog about food disasters, it took all day for me to Rolodex through the stories to select the perfect one. Should I blog about the time I used a new Cajun pepper spice on chicken and the kids said it was too spicy? I insisted that they at least try one bite, which one daughter did and then promptly threw up. This is now know as the "Gunpowder Chicken Episode" for that is what dh said it tasted like. Definitely, I will not live that one down for a while.

Yes, that was bad, but only mentioning home-grown broccoli will make stomach roll and cause my daughters to start retching a little bit. Last year, I still nursed the delusion that I could actually homeschool, take care of five acres and a house, and still garden. To my credit, I grew a beautiful crop of broccoli. Now, my family loves broccoli, I kid you not, which is why I grew a great amount of it. Even at a very early age, my toddlers would eat it. So, one evening, I ran out to the garden, cut a few heads, and stuck them in the sink to rinse off.

Likely, I was multi-tasking, making dinner, talking on the phone, keeping a young one busy underfoot, I didn't examine the produce closely. In fact, I didn't know I had to examine it closely. I cut it into pieces, popped it into a lidded bowl with a little water, and put it in the microwave. Proudly, I put the fruit (or vegetable in this case) of my labor on the table.

Everyone dug in, until dh suddenly pulled the piece of broccoli from his mouth. Something tasted strange and he examined his remaining broccoli closely. It was then he discovered the yellow caterpillars, now fully cooked, clinging to the branches of the broccoli. Announcing his find resulted in my daughters retching the contents of their mouths and very nearly, their stomachs, into their hands. The caterpillars, we discovered, were green on the uncooked broccoli, but bright yellow when cooked. They had blended so well uncooked, I'd missed them.
This year, I didn't grow broccoli as likely no one would have eaten it anyway. Wonder why?

Addendum:
Dh, upon reading this, would like to add that there weren't just a few caterpillars, the broccoli was saturated with them.

Dd#1 would like you to know that they were fat and juicy and very gross.

'Tis the Season

I had to laugh at TC's blog, because it's so true. Here, two days before Thanksgiving, I just now thinking about going to the grocery. For people like me, living on the edge (of chaos), seeing Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving is just like rubbing it in my face. It screams "na-na-na-boo-boo it's Christmas soon and you're not even ready". In reading her blog about the retailers getting ready for Valentine's Day and Easter, I could not help but wonder if the world could maybe come out right when we "lap" ourselves in holiday preparations?

For the Man Who Has Everything

My dh is an introvert. Not in the common English use of the word, as in "hermit" but in the way he thinks. Me, I think out loud. Heck, I blog out loud. Dh, on the other hand, mulls questions over in his brain, turning it this way and that, taking his time while formulating the correct response (when we all know that all he needs to say is "yes, dear" and "but of course you are right!")

While he's thinking and eating his morning cereal, I'm left wondering if he's even heard me. He continues munching, looking down in his cereal bowl for the next bite. "Well???" I ask.

"I'm thinking," he responds.

I wish there was some sign, some way to know that he heard me and is thinking. I envision an little electronic screen implant for an introvert's head hard wired into their brain. When they are "thinking" it will show a little hour glass like my computer does.

StuffMart Can Stuff It

They did it again! Again, I've stood in line to check out for an inordinate amount of time. Too many items to do it myself, I looked down a half-mile row of check out lanes and saw only three open. I waited and waited, and all was not in vain until I got home and found my lunch meat missing. This isn't the first time. WHERE IS MY LUNCHMEAT???

I envision the cashier having it for lunch in the breakroom. Maybe she stole a loaf of bread from the next customer, they had a feast. On the other hand, though I've searched the van, foul smells of decayed meat could greet me in the coming week if I missed it somehow.

The old woman behind me made the long line excrutiating as she doddered on about avoiding items manufactured in China and how this line will get worse come Christmas time. I'd just come in for two avocados. I spent $106.

Think She Kept Her Job?

Photo of cake ordered from StuffMart. Thanks to Christine, who forwarded to me, for the laugh. I needed that.

Death by Chaos

We're expecting company in the next week - three separate visits. Most people that live nearby know we have a "farm" house and it looks it. They know that sometimes it's clean, sometimes there is chicken crap on the steps when someone forgot to remove their shoes. Sometimes, a recital takes precedence over cleaning off the counters. The guests, however, only come once in a great while, and a short visit can leave a lasting impression with no follow up visits to redeem oneself.

I find myself stashing items in my office closet and wondering if they were to open this closet, and be knocked on the head and they died, would it be manslaughter or murder? It was premeditated - I meant to hide my total lack of organization. And yes, I DO know about Flylady and have about 1000 unread messages from her in my inbox.

So what am I doing blogging? A person has to take a break sometimes!

Typical Male

Yesterday, my son was given the opportunity to ride along with me to drive one sister to art lessons. Another sister was to remain home. He generally chooses to stick to me like white on rice, but this time, I was surprised to hear, "No, I'll stay home. You'll just talk the whole way there and back anyway".

Farm Notes
I recently found someone who'd love to have the white silkie pair of chickens that I have. I was happy to know that they could remain together. Yesterday, I found the rooster dead in the hutch. No apparent cause of death and a necropsy is not planned. Funeral arrangements to be made by Rumpke.

Tell me, what, what, possesses a man (or woman for that matter, I'm in Kentucky after all) to chew tobacco?? A man stopped by unannounced yesterday to inquire about the builder of our barn. This has happened before, and I was happy to show him around. That is, until he began periodically spitting, spitting, in my barn. I about lost my cookies. Granted the barn has a limestone base and bedding to collect waste, but there is something inherently disgusting about tobacco juice. Just writing this makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

What woman would kiss such a man, sucking and dripping brown saliva from his mouth? Ugh. And what does one do when someone begins to spit all over your property? I can do one better though. I am no priss, I'll have you know. Often, my girls and I wear Eau de Cheval. Unlike Chris, horse manure and even horse urine does not bother me. When our horse chiropractor, however, declared he'd leave after "using one of our stalls", I about had a tizzy. I offered the use of my bathroom, but he just smiled with his two teeth while crushing his cigarette into the driveway, and politely declined before spitting and heading into the barn. There was nothing to do but go to the house.

What is Success?

The plain fact is that the planet does not need more "successful" people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every shape and form. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these needs have little to do with success as our culture has defined it. - David Orr

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Do You Think They'll Notice...?

"Do you think they'll notice I'm like, really short?
I'm brave - I can hang with the big boys...."





"Oh, nooooo! They're looking at me! Mom? Where are you mom?"

"Help! Mom! The mean one is after me!"

"Safe at last. Thank goodness for moms! (And electric fences.)"

Disclaimer: No horses were harmed in the filming of this event. Lauren will have you know that her horse is not mean and was just teaching the baby her manners.

Rach' On

Lauren

November 11th Piano Recital

University of Louisville

Comstock Hall

Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# Minor Opus 3 No. 2

My Angel

While reading an illustrated version of the Littlest Angel, William asked about the yellow circle drawn around the angel boy's head. I explained that a halo was used to show that the angel was holy and an angel. As we continued reading, he noticed that on a few pages the halo had slipped and was now sitting crookedly and uncomfortably on the poor angel's head.

"I wouldn't want to have to wear one of those things," William said.
"Oh, well son, that shouldn't be a concern," I said laughing.

More Flying Colors

Anna on Ginny

Lauren on Quid

The Flying Colors

The girls had a spectacular weekend riding Mounted Games

at the Kentucky Horse Park. Lauren is third and Anna, fifth, from the left.

They Sell Dogs?

I was slightly started when the cashier at Stuffmart handed me a bag, saying, "Here's your Pomeranian". You've got to just love Kentucky. It's pomegranate, not Pomeranian, season.

My Portrait by William

My Portrait by Anna