Ahhh, the sweet and slow Country Life. It's been an adjustment, I'm not going to lie. Anyone who has read any of my blogs should know the adjustment has been hard and quite comical sometimes. So, just as I was beginning to get used to the feeding schedules, the children not the animals, and the watering and the weather, blah, blah, blah, a scourge so horrific came down upon my family like the plague! Chiggers!!
Oh, I don't use the word hate lightly my friends and I can tell you with the utmost certainty I HATE CHIGGERS! You cannot see them, so you just don't know they're there until you take your 4 year old son to the doctor for a terrible rash in his groin/nether regional area to find out it's chiggers. Oh, and it might be scabies, but most likely chigger. CHILLS DOWN THE SPINE EWWWWW BUGS!! Teensy tiny bugs crawling on us without even knowing.
After finding this on my son, it quickly moved on to my daughter in the same area. Not on the family jewels, no matter how much she tries to convince you that she has that too, but the nether region of the girl type. Hmm, perhaps it was when she squatted to poop in the yard? I'd bet all my money on it! The boy whips it out without caution to pee whenever the urge hits him too. It's no wonder my naked loving children have chigger bites on these particularly sensitive areas. SHIVERS AGAIN!
So, we get all the creams, antibiotic/anti-inflammatory/anti-itch/what-have-you and begin to apply every night after bath. We've also gotten a little redneck pool going here that we dip in before going in the house as much as possible to try to get them to release their unsavory death-grip bites. I have to say that the girl has cleared up significantly since the ruling of NO PULLING DOWN YOUR PANTS IN THE YARD was put into effect. The boy, however, not so much.
The boy still somehow has a plethora of bites on his, ahem, let's call them the jewels. I'm not sure how he got them so concentrated except to guess that he very carefully only pulls out the junk to pee when needed and swears on the other hand that he does not do that outside anymore Mom! Yeah, I'm sure you don't. I think that boys, and men for that matter, have a need, nay a primal urge, to pee on their property as often as humanly possible. I picture it much like a dog I had as a child who just could put a little pee on each post he encountered on a walk and really not run out through the entire neighborhood. Brilliant, calculating, and amazing these creatures with these appendages.
So, have I digressed again? Anyway, what are Chankles exactly? Well, they are what my ankles look like currently. Not to brag, but there was a time in my life when I actually liked my legs. Well, at least part of them, the bottom part never the thighs. Anyway, they were smooth and tan and looked nice in heels. Now, heels or not, there are still a pocking of chigger bites all over them about 1/3 of the way up to my knees. It's damned attractive. It's apparently my redneck ankle bracelets that are really more like a cuff and they itch incessantly. So, I have applied to myself daily the aforementioned creams to no avail. I spray bug spray liberally, but I think the bastards sit and wait until it wears off to make their move. They are wily, I am certain of that!
This goes along with the attractive poison ivy I found to be bulging out in a reaction on my face after a day spent gardening and pulling roots that were apparently um poison ivy. My eye was almost swollen shut! Thank you modern medicine for saving me the heart break and constant itching on my face, across my eye no less. This added to the lovely full calf rash the Hubster obtained while pulling poison ivy and swearing "I'm not allergic to anything" in his charming accent. Yeah, how did that work for you!
All in all we're healing, and back on the track to getting adjusted. We still miss our friends, but we're making new friends too. It's a daily adventure and I'm hoping to get through the chigger season unscathed, or should I say unscabed? BRRRR!
E Voila
Momma D
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Crazy and Cuddly Chickens?
He was free, the Hubster said excitedly when he brought the freaky looking rooster out of the box. The other one was five bucks, so I figure I got the roosters for a bargain $2.50 each. Yes, the Hubster is always on line for a bargain. Cheap or free, but free is always better, right? Well, in terms of roosters for our hens, that is debatable!
I have no idea how to describe our "free" chicken except to say he looks like he's certifiably insane! He has crazy black feathers that dart from his head in all directions. He has a freakishly long neck and he walks around like he is the coolest chicken, albeit craziest, on the block. The cock of the walk, if I may say. Speaking of, the Hubster has also integrated "cock" jokes to his repertoire in all of this and I'm beginning to suspect he got El Pollo Loco simply for the jokes. This morning he sent me an IM stating that he "let his cock out this morning" and since there are 2, he has declared that he's had "surgery to implant 2 cocks". As is was a little funny the first time, like poop and fart humor, this too will get old fast!
But I digress...as usual.
The crazy free chicken had to be put in a dog crate by itself last night. Apparently he was never taught manners and was terrorizing the hens in their coop. I can report that today has been a better day, there are a few hens hanging out with this beast. I have also learned today that he is as fast as lightning. NO, seriously this chicken can book it across the run like nobody's business! When he runs, he looks like he is on fire. His crazy black and a few brown feathers blow in the wind. But he's pretty funny to watch, and I think he's getting a get out of jail free card.
Chicken, or rooster excuse me, is cuddly. I'm seriously not kidding. My son has taken to him and the bird lets him hold him in his arms and he nuzzles in for a cuddle. He likes to go for rides in the kids' police car. Yes, a bird on patrol. I'm not sure why or how, but we seem to get the odd ones out in this family. Maybe we are odd ones ourselves? Well, not maybe!
Ok, so on a more serious note, the crazy one. He was free and probably because he was a problem child as demonstrated in last nights terrorization antics. No, I'm pretty sure it's NOT a word, but I think it fits! Anyway, I'm pretty sure he is the way he is because at some point in his short chicken life, he was abused and/or neglected. His wings were clipped, perhaps to keep him from taking off, but his disposition is honestly terror. He's afraid of everyone human and especially afraid of our dog. I personally don't blame him as we are all significantly larger than he is. Anyway, I think the mellowing of today (which was slight and barely noticable) came because he has had fresh water and food and a place to scratch and run around for the first time in his life. Both roosters were completely amazed with dirt and grass. Snuggles just because he's young and was kept inside and didn't have the room to run, but crazy because he was neglected. I'm very happy that they are BOTH here.
I joke and make fun of the Hubster because he makes decisions based on things being free and sometimes those decisions aren't always well thought out. We persevere and make it work most of the time. And I'm pretty sure he didn't take notice to the state of the bird so much when he heard the word free. He was, however, the first to say he thinks that Loco (I'm throwing around different names as I'm not sure what to call him yet) was treated badly. As it was with our puppy, our 60 pound puppy, these animals were not cared for especially. I don't personally know what their past lives held before they arrived at our hodge-podge household, but it doesn't matter anymore. There's a lot of love in our home and on our land for all these animals. We are happy to have them. And yes, some will become dinner some day. They will all have very happy lives until their last days, no matter how they come!
Love Y'all!
Momma D
xoxo
I have no idea how to describe our "free" chicken except to say he looks like he's certifiably insane! He has crazy black feathers that dart from his head in all directions. He has a freakishly long neck and he walks around like he is the coolest chicken, albeit craziest, on the block. The cock of the walk, if I may say. Speaking of, the Hubster has also integrated "cock" jokes to his repertoire in all of this and I'm beginning to suspect he got El Pollo Loco simply for the jokes. This morning he sent me an IM stating that he "let his cock out this morning" and since there are 2, he has declared that he's had "surgery to implant 2 cocks". As is was a little funny the first time, like poop and fart humor, this too will get old fast!
But I digress...as usual.
The crazy free chicken had to be put in a dog crate by itself last night. Apparently he was never taught manners and was terrorizing the hens in their coop. I can report that today has been a better day, there are a few hens hanging out with this beast. I have also learned today that he is as fast as lightning. NO, seriously this chicken can book it across the run like nobody's business! When he runs, he looks like he is on fire. His crazy black and a few brown feathers blow in the wind. But he's pretty funny to watch, and I think he's getting a get out of jail free card.
Chicken, or rooster excuse me, is cuddly. I'm seriously not kidding. My son has taken to him and the bird lets him hold him in his arms and he nuzzles in for a cuddle. He likes to go for rides in the kids' police car. Yes, a bird on patrol. I'm not sure why or how, but we seem to get the odd ones out in this family. Maybe we are odd ones ourselves? Well, not maybe!
Ok, so on a more serious note, the crazy one. He was free and probably because he was a problem child as demonstrated in last nights terrorization antics. No, I'm pretty sure it's NOT a word, but I think it fits! Anyway, I'm pretty sure he is the way he is because at some point in his short chicken life, he was abused and/or neglected. His wings were clipped, perhaps to keep him from taking off, but his disposition is honestly terror. He's afraid of everyone human and especially afraid of our dog. I personally don't blame him as we are all significantly larger than he is. Anyway, I think the mellowing of today (which was slight and barely noticable) came because he has had fresh water and food and a place to scratch and run around for the first time in his life. Both roosters were completely amazed with dirt and grass. Snuggles just because he's young and was kept inside and didn't have the room to run, but crazy because he was neglected. I'm very happy that they are BOTH here.
I joke and make fun of the Hubster because he makes decisions based on things being free and sometimes those decisions aren't always well thought out. We persevere and make it work most of the time. And I'm pretty sure he didn't take notice to the state of the bird so much when he heard the word free. He was, however, the first to say he thinks that Loco (I'm throwing around different names as I'm not sure what to call him yet) was treated badly. As it was with our puppy, our 60 pound puppy, these animals were not cared for especially. I don't personally know what their past lives held before they arrived at our hodge-podge household, but it doesn't matter anymore. There's a lot of love in our home and on our land for all these animals. We are happy to have them. And yes, some will become dinner some day. They will all have very happy lives until their last days, no matter how they come!
Love Y'all!
Momma D
xoxo
Monday, June 16, 2014
Slow Down! Who Me??
The past few years have been a whirl of feeling crappy. All. The. Time. I kept doing stuff in hopes that my body would snap out of it. I was convinced that it was all in my head and that at any moment something would click and it would be over. I thought I just needed to find my passion. I needed to find what I loved to do. As it turns out, I was doing what I loved and getting the opportunity now to do it full time, but my body was screaming at me to slow the F down!!!
It took me a plethora of doctor visits and tests before I got so sick of feeling sick, I went for the ultimate workup, MAYO!! I had myself convinced that going in they were going to tell me I was making myself sick with my anxiety and perfectionism. As it turns out, I wasn't. Somewhere along the line of being pregnant with my little girl, the Naked Princess (another story for another time), I got sick and my body never recovered. In fact, it went into overdrive and basically shuts down when I push it.
The diagnosis was Fibromyalgia, or Myalgic Encepholomyelititis (?) ME/CFS, in addition to some weird gooky thing going on with my Autonomic Nervous System that was causing me extreme dizziness and the collapse I had in the yard. This was the end of the line in doctors, the best of the best telling me this. I was thrilled and confused. I found out that I can manage it, but it most likely will always be the Bane of my existence. Why the Bane? Well, I'm apparently a Type A personality and I'm not happy if I'm not in control and doing absolutely EVERYTHING! The doctors had to tell me that too! HA!
No, not me!! Anyone who knows me will tell me they're right, but I wanted to believe I was still 20 years old and able to do whatever I wanted at any given time. As it turns out, not so much. I'm in my 40s and in addition to aging, this had to happen too. Gosh, it's like double old, UGH! So, what do I do? Is there a fountain of youth and a cure? If so, I'll take 2!!
Ok, so I got home from my travels and decided I'd listen. I've been exercising about 10 minutes every night and taking my time getting things done while not worrying about all that needs to get done. Letting it go I guess. It's been REALLY hard, but if I want to be worth anything to those people who obviously love me a ton, I need to slow down. I behaved and got way more done than I had in a long time. It turns out that slow and steady really DOES win the race. It still didn't make it any easier...
Denial sets in and I start thinking too much about it, as usual. I was told that I have 10 bucks of energy to spend a day, not a penny more, and I cannot budget and save for one big day either. Hardest thing for me to hear, slow down. But, but, but...I have things to do, I have plans, I have big dreams!! How could this happen to ME? I'm so active and busy and all that crap! I cannot slow down. It turns out that when I don't slow down, my body just puts on the brakes, and that's way worse than just tuning down a little bit. On days when I crash, I find it almost impossible to finish anything. My body feels like concrete and my mind won't shut the heck up!
So, after a week of behaving, I felt good and tried in a weekend to do it all. Now it's Monday. My body is PISSED at me! My joints are burning hot and stinging like bees and my head hurts and stomach sick. Yes, this is the feeling I'd been trying to convey to so many doctors and loved ones. This is what they described to me as my body telling me to slow the hell down. And this blog is me putting it out there so I have no more excuses and I don't wear myself to the bone again. Not a cry for help, but a touch of self-awareness I didn't have. Maybe through writing about it, someone else can relate and realize they too need to slow down. For now, I think I'm starting to get it.
Yes, I'll probably overdo it again as it is my nature to conquer the world, but lucky for me I have loved ones who keep an eye on me. And a Hubster who is truly cheering me on to change! Now I know the value of the RV I came home to, sort of (yes another story for another time). It will allow me to do things I LOVE with those I LOVE and still be able to take my time! He is always thinking about me ;)
Ok, enough yapping about it...I'm going to whack some weeds! What? I say F you Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, POTS, or whatever the F you are! I've got 10 bucks and today I will use it wisely!!
Peace Out!
xoxo
It took me a plethora of doctor visits and tests before I got so sick of feeling sick, I went for the ultimate workup, MAYO!! I had myself convinced that going in they were going to tell me I was making myself sick with my anxiety and perfectionism. As it turns out, I wasn't. Somewhere along the line of being pregnant with my little girl, the Naked Princess (another story for another time), I got sick and my body never recovered. In fact, it went into overdrive and basically shuts down when I push it.
The diagnosis was Fibromyalgia, or Myalgic Encepholomyelititis (?) ME/CFS, in addition to some weird gooky thing going on with my Autonomic Nervous System that was causing me extreme dizziness and the collapse I had in the yard. This was the end of the line in doctors, the best of the best telling me this. I was thrilled and confused. I found out that I can manage it, but it most likely will always be the Bane of my existence. Why the Bane? Well, I'm apparently a Type A personality and I'm not happy if I'm not in control and doing absolutely EVERYTHING! The doctors had to tell me that too! HA!
No, not me!! Anyone who knows me will tell me they're right, but I wanted to believe I was still 20 years old and able to do whatever I wanted at any given time. As it turns out, not so much. I'm in my 40s and in addition to aging, this had to happen too. Gosh, it's like double old, UGH! So, what do I do? Is there a fountain of youth and a cure? If so, I'll take 2!!
Ok, so I got home from my travels and decided I'd listen. I've been exercising about 10 minutes every night and taking my time getting things done while not worrying about all that needs to get done. Letting it go I guess. It's been REALLY hard, but if I want to be worth anything to those people who obviously love me a ton, I need to slow down. I behaved and got way more done than I had in a long time. It turns out that slow and steady really DOES win the race. It still didn't make it any easier...
Denial sets in and I start thinking too much about it, as usual. I was told that I have 10 bucks of energy to spend a day, not a penny more, and I cannot budget and save for one big day either. Hardest thing for me to hear, slow down. But, but, but...I have things to do, I have plans, I have big dreams!! How could this happen to ME? I'm so active and busy and all that crap! I cannot slow down. It turns out that when I don't slow down, my body just puts on the brakes, and that's way worse than just tuning down a little bit. On days when I crash, I find it almost impossible to finish anything. My body feels like concrete and my mind won't shut the heck up!
So, after a week of behaving, I felt good and tried in a weekend to do it all. Now it's Monday. My body is PISSED at me! My joints are burning hot and stinging like bees and my head hurts and stomach sick. Yes, this is the feeling I'd been trying to convey to so many doctors and loved ones. This is what they described to me as my body telling me to slow the hell down. And this blog is me putting it out there so I have no more excuses and I don't wear myself to the bone again. Not a cry for help, but a touch of self-awareness I didn't have. Maybe through writing about it, someone else can relate and realize they too need to slow down. For now, I think I'm starting to get it.
Yes, I'll probably overdo it again as it is my nature to conquer the world, but lucky for me I have loved ones who keep an eye on me. And a Hubster who is truly cheering me on to change! Now I know the value of the RV I came home to, sort of (yes another story for another time). It will allow me to do things I LOVE with those I LOVE and still be able to take my time! He is always thinking about me ;)
Ok, enough yapping about it...I'm going to whack some weeds! What? I say F you Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, POTS, or whatever the F you are! I've got 10 bucks and today I will use it wisely!!
Peace Out!
xoxo
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Stink Butt Has a Farm
As I struggle with a little bit of writers block, which I actually think is because I have too many ideas in my head to focus on just one, I asked my 4 year old what he thought I should write about. His first answer (dare I say it, instinct) was the title of this blog today "Stink Butt Has a Farm". Brilliant! Why with all the "noise" around the house lately surrounding different odors, I thought it wildly appropriate. Yes, we love our toilet humor!
Aside from all the flatulent occurrences, that are "ripe" within the walls of our house, there truly has been a lot of talk about odors of late. Why? I can tell you that I truly do not know. All I really do know is the theme of my past week has been this. Maybe the root cause is really because I have a 2, 4, and 36 year old in the house! Or maybe it was the realization that I smell like a farm and my brain has been searching to find all the sources of this complex olifactory indulgence.
It all started with my arrival back from a week long hiatus that the first odor hit me. I came into the house and noticed it smelled weird, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I had been away long enough to completely withdraw from the smell and it hit me like the first time I'd been smelling it. It didn't really hit me though until the smell went away that it was Farm Odor, or Eau du Farm (no, my French is NOT GOOD).
It smells like a farm in here and the more time I spend, the less I notice it. So, I must smell like a farm and just don't notice. I have noticed it on others in the past when I was not living with a Donkey, 4 Goats, 13 Hens, 10 Guinea Fowl, 4 Rabbits (yes, another one died), a Dog, and 2 Cats. Now it's just normal background smell. It's my odor now and it's inescapable. I had the thought at one time in my life that people just didn't practice proper hygiene, but it's not really about that at all. It simply sticks to you when you walk by. So, to all who see me publicly, you're welcome! I smell like grass and earth and manure and feed, not to mention the additions that my little ones contribute.
Since then, I have noticed many references to smells and/or stink. I will not bore you with the details of every revelation considering it's kind of gross and distasteful (or dis-smellful?). The wrap of of the odor week came yesterday while my son and I were making our Popsicle Stick Dinosaur and Truffula Tree Farm, yes we did make that, and talking about life. We were having a very dynamic conversation, and I was relishing in being blessed with the opportunity to really get to know my children when he said "Mom, my stuffed animal dogs don't stink, they poop, but they don't stink". Hmm, ok you're 100% right about the not stinking (unless of course they are the victim of a mis-directed vomit or other type of frequent accident in this house). But how do they poop?
Suffice it to say that I didn't ask because it doesn't matter. As long as he cleans it up, I'm not that concerned with how his stuffed animals poop. I'd like him to pick up after the real dog outside, but I digress... and nagging simply doesn't work. So, I'm happy to say that in my revelations and discoveries about the change in the smell of my family, I have also found that my children are engaging, funny, smart, and sometimes stinky. And among many other things, I'm truly blessed. I'll just let it be.
Aside from all the flatulent occurrences, that are "ripe" within the walls of our house, there truly has been a lot of talk about odors of late. Why? I can tell you that I truly do not know. All I really do know is the theme of my past week has been this. Maybe the root cause is really because I have a 2, 4, and 36 year old in the house! Or maybe it was the realization that I smell like a farm and my brain has been searching to find all the sources of this complex olifactory indulgence.
It all started with my arrival back from a week long hiatus that the first odor hit me. I came into the house and noticed it smelled weird, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I had been away long enough to completely withdraw from the smell and it hit me like the first time I'd been smelling it. It didn't really hit me though until the smell went away that it was Farm Odor, or Eau du Farm (no, my French is NOT GOOD).
It smells like a farm in here and the more time I spend, the less I notice it. So, I must smell like a farm and just don't notice. I have noticed it on others in the past when I was not living with a Donkey, 4 Goats, 13 Hens, 10 Guinea Fowl, 4 Rabbits (yes, another one died), a Dog, and 2 Cats. Now it's just normal background smell. It's my odor now and it's inescapable. I had the thought at one time in my life that people just didn't practice proper hygiene, but it's not really about that at all. It simply sticks to you when you walk by. So, to all who see me publicly, you're welcome! I smell like grass and earth and manure and feed, not to mention the additions that my little ones contribute.
Since then, I have noticed many references to smells and/or stink. I will not bore you with the details of every revelation considering it's kind of gross and distasteful (or dis-smellful?). The wrap of of the odor week came yesterday while my son and I were making our Popsicle Stick Dinosaur and Truffula Tree Farm, yes we did make that, and talking about life. We were having a very dynamic conversation, and I was relishing in being blessed with the opportunity to really get to know my children when he said "Mom, my stuffed animal dogs don't stink, they poop, but they don't stink". Hmm, ok you're 100% right about the not stinking (unless of course they are the victim of a mis-directed vomit or other type of frequent accident in this house). But how do they poop?
Suffice it to say that I didn't ask because it doesn't matter. As long as he cleans it up, I'm not that concerned with how his stuffed animals poop. I'd like him to pick up after the real dog outside, but I digress... and nagging simply doesn't work. So, I'm happy to say that in my revelations and discoveries about the change in the smell of my family, I have also found that my children are engaging, funny, smart, and sometimes stinky. And among many other things, I'm truly blessed. I'll just let it be.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Puppy and Baby SH%# in the Yard
I just picked up my daughter's poop from the yard. If I'm lyin', I'm cryin'! I swear with all of my heart that I did indeed just have an incident where I had to pick up my daughter's poop from the yard. It was not an accident. It wasn't a sudden burst that she just couldn't hold in, no! Apparently, she had to poop, so she dropped trou and did it, right there, no kidding.
I was inside the house picking up the endlessly multiplying (I swear they procreate at night) toys in the "family room", when I hear Nana outside yelling for me. What Ma? Your daughter just pooped in the yard, to which the boy added and it's green Mom, gross. Not the fact that she pulled down her pants, squatted, and pooped in the yard that was gross. No, it was the color of it according to the boy.
Now, I had just taken the children out after dinner for "our" nightly chores, yeah our, and one of them was picking up the dogs poop piles. Yes, they do go out ahead of me and site out the piles and yell frantically when they find one, but ultimately, I'm the poop picker upper. So, I suppose in some way it just made sense to her. Mommy cleans out my potty when I poop, what's the diff? Hmm?
As tempting as it may sound to just let her be free and live like the animals, which in fact isn't far off and we could build her a coop (seriously kidding?), I feared immediately that if I didn't nip this one in the bud. Well, it would be a hard time explaining the first time she does it at a friend's house, or say the playground at school? I'm afraid I may have stopped her mid poop and that won't be good for anyone, but I just couldn't let it go on any farther.
I suppose it's also partly my fault because when she started dropping trou to pee in the yard, I just let her go. Heck, I even giggled and posted about it. She's 2, it was kind of funny. She's just my free and easy little one. Makes perfect sense to her, and she does everything with complete abandon, so imagine the implications of pooping whenever the urge were to hit her.
Even though, this too was funny enough for me to write about, it cannot go on! Maybe we have too many animals? There is, in fact, a lot of poop cleaning that goes on here around our mini-farm. Hopefully, it won't happen again, but I suspect that it probably will.
After all, everybody poops, right?
I was inside the house picking up the endlessly multiplying (I swear they procreate at night) toys in the "family room", when I hear Nana outside yelling for me. What Ma? Your daughter just pooped in the yard, to which the boy added and it's green Mom, gross. Not the fact that she pulled down her pants, squatted, and pooped in the yard that was gross. No, it was the color of it according to the boy.
Now, I had just taken the children out after dinner for "our" nightly chores, yeah our, and one of them was picking up the dogs poop piles. Yes, they do go out ahead of me and site out the piles and yell frantically when they find one, but ultimately, I'm the poop picker upper. So, I suppose in some way it just made sense to her. Mommy cleans out my potty when I poop, what's the diff? Hmm?
As tempting as it may sound to just let her be free and live like the animals, which in fact isn't far off and we could build her a coop (seriously kidding?), I feared immediately that if I didn't nip this one in the bud. Well, it would be a hard time explaining the first time she does it at a friend's house, or say the playground at school? I'm afraid I may have stopped her mid poop and that won't be good for anyone, but I just couldn't let it go on any farther.
I suppose it's also partly my fault because when she started dropping trou to pee in the yard, I just let her go. Heck, I even giggled and posted about it. She's 2, it was kind of funny. She's just my free and easy little one. Makes perfect sense to her, and she does everything with complete abandon, so imagine the implications of pooping whenever the urge were to hit her.
Even though, this too was funny enough for me to write about, it cannot go on! Maybe we have too many animals? There is, in fact, a lot of poop cleaning that goes on here around our mini-farm. Hopefully, it won't happen again, but I suspect that it probably will.
After all, everybody poops, right?
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
And a Rabbit Done Died
I was thinking about making the title of this blog City Mouse in the Country, because today I really started to feel like one. I don't really even remember the story all that well, but I know that the city mouse went to the country and didn't fit in and the country mouse to the city and the same. Both, however, brought something to their poorly fit place and also it brought something to them.
By the way...I know you're thinking it...NO I AM NOT PREGGERS!!
So, I've been wondering today what it is that I have to bring here. My son decided to bring out photographs after our reading lesson, and we looked at them together. They were snapshots taken mostly by his and his sisters teachers at their school in Arizona. He got several of the children's names wrong, so that told me he was settling in here and becoming a country mouse pretty quickly. Strangely as we went through them, the photos brought big tears to my eyes. I realized it was the city living that I sort of missed.
I say "sort of" for a few reasons. Mostly, it was for the little moments. We had access to everything artistic, but we rarely indulged ourselves. We had friends all close by that we saw often, but sometimes time would fly by in months between gatherings.
Why? Well, mainly because in the city we were just working so much to fund our life as it was, that we rarely had time in all the running around. Our jobs paid the bills and for school, or day care, for the children, and a roof over our heads with food.
Here, we are still busy and running around, but in a different way. I still feel like I can't breathe sometimes because going into town is a massive endeavor and takes a lot of gas, so you have to plan it out and make a day of it. So, I'm still struggling with "fitting in" or maybe it's just that I'm not mentally here yet. I'm not sure.
Today while I was outside running around to beat the big storm and make sure that the hens, guinea fowl, dog, and rabbits all have food and water under cover in case the storm lasts, I found that one of the rabbits had died. I finished my chores quickly and reluctantly with my heart in my throat because I still am not used to the surrounded by death way on a farm. I went into the house to start to prepare dinner with the kids running wildly at my feet. Then the rain broke...
After the rain stopped the children again begged me to go outside. Wait a minute, they rarely did that in the city? Then I found my daughter outside...naked..."taking a bath" in a freezing cold puddle. She was LOVING LIFE with such fervor that it occurred to me that my children are genuinely happy here. If I could call over their friends, say L and M, don't get me wrong they'd be in heaven, but that would just make this place a more fun place as it is already perfect in their eyes. They really don't grasp the concept that these friends don't live just a mile away anymore. My children have everything they want. They have swing sets and puddles and animals and mud and dirt and flowers and fields to just run to their hearts content. So, what was I missing?
I missed walking 20 feet, or a mile, to reach out to a friend when I needed a hug or a shoulder to lean on in person. I missed having access to the things we needed, like groceries and the childrens doctor, within walking distance. I missed the Aztec Mochas with friends on a Sunday morning bike ride. I missed impromptu bbqs and pool parties. But what I didn't miss was the complete hustle and bustle. I was so torn. I wanted to be there in the worst way, but living the way we do here. I wanted to take our land and our animals and our days of playing in puddles and reading our first words from a book, as the boy did today (YAY), and putting it in that location. But that's not possible.
I think that what I'm missing most is really inside of me and my favorite thing since coming here to the country... It's getting to really see life in amazement as I do every day through my children's eyes. I am old...none of your business how old if you don't know! It takes longer to adjust, I suppose. It's not really been that long yet and we're just now starting to settle into this life. And from what I've learned along this long strange road is that you never know what is hiding around the next corner. I cannot wait to reach it!
Big Hugs and Smooches from the City, I mean Country Mouse
Momma D
And seriously, the rabbit really died, not the other meaning of the saying!!!
By the way...I know you're thinking it...NO I AM NOT PREGGERS!!
So, I've been wondering today what it is that I have to bring here. My son decided to bring out photographs after our reading lesson, and we looked at them together. They were snapshots taken mostly by his and his sisters teachers at their school in Arizona. He got several of the children's names wrong, so that told me he was settling in here and becoming a country mouse pretty quickly. Strangely as we went through them, the photos brought big tears to my eyes. I realized it was the city living that I sort of missed.
I say "sort of" for a few reasons. Mostly, it was for the little moments. We had access to everything artistic, but we rarely indulged ourselves. We had friends all close by that we saw often, but sometimes time would fly by in months between gatherings.
Why? Well, mainly because in the city we were just working so much to fund our life as it was, that we rarely had time in all the running around. Our jobs paid the bills and for school, or day care, for the children, and a roof over our heads with food.
Here, we are still busy and running around, but in a different way. I still feel like I can't breathe sometimes because going into town is a massive endeavor and takes a lot of gas, so you have to plan it out and make a day of it. So, I'm still struggling with "fitting in" or maybe it's just that I'm not mentally here yet. I'm not sure.
Today while I was outside running around to beat the big storm and make sure that the hens, guinea fowl, dog, and rabbits all have food and water under cover in case the storm lasts, I found that one of the rabbits had died. I finished my chores quickly and reluctantly with my heart in my throat because I still am not used to the surrounded by death way on a farm. I went into the house to start to prepare dinner with the kids running wildly at my feet. Then the rain broke...
After the rain stopped the children again begged me to go outside. Wait a minute, they rarely did that in the city? Then I found my daughter outside...naked..."taking a bath" in a freezing cold puddle. She was LOVING LIFE with such fervor that it occurred to me that my children are genuinely happy here. If I could call over their friends, say L and M, don't get me wrong they'd be in heaven, but that would just make this place a more fun place as it is already perfect in their eyes. They really don't grasp the concept that these friends don't live just a mile away anymore. My children have everything they want. They have swing sets and puddles and animals and mud and dirt and flowers and fields to just run to their hearts content. So, what was I missing?
I missed walking 20 feet, or a mile, to reach out to a friend when I needed a hug or a shoulder to lean on in person. I missed having access to the things we needed, like groceries and the childrens doctor, within walking distance. I missed the Aztec Mochas with friends on a Sunday morning bike ride. I missed impromptu bbqs and pool parties. But what I didn't miss was the complete hustle and bustle. I was so torn. I wanted to be there in the worst way, but living the way we do here. I wanted to take our land and our animals and our days of playing in puddles and reading our first words from a book, as the boy did today (YAY), and putting it in that location. But that's not possible.
I think that what I'm missing most is really inside of me and my favorite thing since coming here to the country... It's getting to really see life in amazement as I do every day through my children's eyes. I am old...none of your business how old if you don't know! It takes longer to adjust, I suppose. It's not really been that long yet and we're just now starting to settle into this life. And from what I've learned along this long strange road is that you never know what is hiding around the next corner. I cannot wait to reach it!
Big Hugs and Smooches from the City, I mean Country Mouse
Momma D
And seriously, the rabbit really died, not the other meaning of the saying!!!
Saturday, May 24, 2014
A Yard Sale and the Hubster's ASS
I honestly don't know how to put into words the excitement at the farm today. I guess I can start with my sewing fiasco last night. Yes, I used up yet another bobbin and had to change it and well, it's still not threaded through the needle. Can someone please tell me why on earth we need to sew from above AND below with a sewing machine? I really just want one of those old pedal machines that is all very simple, no complicated parts and I have to pump with my foot. At least I'd be getting exercise instead of angina!
Anyway, I digress, as usual. So, we have a CRAP LOAD of stuff. I mean a serious CRAP LOAD. I know, I know we all say we have too much crap around or the kids toys are going to drive me crazy, but I kid you not, if I wasn't as anal as I am about things being organized, we would be blogging about the film crew from hoarders here at my house. Soooooo much stuff I haven't purged a toy since the boy was born almost 5 years ago AND when we moved here to our home, home on the range, we merged ours and my mother's houses together. Plus my mother and I both have a habit of hanging on to things too long thinking we'll use it some day and that day just doesn't exist.
Don't get me started on my hubster's collection of things he'll use some day. Someone will surely have to call 911 because I might convulse. It's something I try not to think about too often. It makes me happier that way...until I go on a frenzy and re-organize his pile of stuff yet again and throw away all of the trash I cannot believe has collected under it. How is something useful one day and trash the next? It kinds of blows the mind if you really try to think about it too hard. Oh man, I really need that...oh that's just crap. Sigh....
It all started, my attempt to bring down my stress level, by posting some pieces of furniture on local trading post Facebook pages. I didn't get a lot of response even though I gave them as all reasonable offers, perhaps even trades, would be considered. NADA. Hmm, what's wrong with my stuff? Hmm? Soooo, I posted it again and again like a mad woman so now surely no one will come because I'm insane, and right you would be to think it at this point. Next I moved on to posting on Craigs List. I've gotten many a cool find on there and I figured, I'm not asking much, it'll be a cinch. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Seriously, what is wrong with my stuff?
So, today I noticed there's a lot of Yard/Garage sales, I put up a sign, posted on said websites again and organized my garage into an area of sell-able stuff and stuff we're either keeping or donating. And I sat down with a nice cool drink on the couch I was trying to sell. Nothing, no one, nada. What am I doing wrong? I got a couple of calls about the postings, but we live too far out in the sticks for the drive to make the savings worth it. A nice kid from next door came by and bought a couple odd things, but that was it.
Then in pulls my Hubster and his ASS! AND a whole bunch more junk for the kids. Now, I did know he was buying a donkey, haha get the pun now? Donkey's are really great protectors if you have smaller animals like goats, so it was all good. It didn't help much that I didn't sell all but 2 tiny things all day and he came home with several outdoor childrens play sets that my kids went wild for and they "just need a little work". So, then we have to get the donkey off the trailer and into the pasture with the goats....
I feel like I should just stop here because my day had been quite enough adventure as it was, but I'll tell you what happened anyway. First, the boy held a bucket of bribe food to coerce the donkey to come, it'll be easy, shake the food and it will come. Well, stubborn as a mule...TRUTH!! ABSOLUTE TRUTH!! I was standing guard so the goats didn't try to escape. Believe it or not, they can be quite wily when they see a way to freedom, whatever that means to a goat?? So, this tact wasn't working. Boy, come over here and guard the goats and I got some carrots. Here little girl, have a carrot. She looked at me down her big old donkey face nose like I was holding a hardened piece of dog shit and bent down to eat the grass at her feet.
Great, it's about to pour, and we have like 25 feet to go. This is a long way to move a large animal who has firmly planted herself to the ground. What happened next was all short of a miracle and hilarious and I actually could not believe it was working. I got behind her, Hubster on the side, and we pushed with all of our might and got her in the pasture, while laughing at the simplicity after trying all the bribery and drama of our previous attempts.
So, now I really need a shower because as I was pushing, my shirt got wet, don't ask, and donkey perfume is just not all that delightful. Oh, and by the way, it's NOT raining. Why? Because it's Texas and it does what it wants!
Wahoo Y'all
Momma D
Anyway, I digress, as usual. So, we have a CRAP LOAD of stuff. I mean a serious CRAP LOAD. I know, I know we all say we have too much crap around or the kids toys are going to drive me crazy, but I kid you not, if I wasn't as anal as I am about things being organized, we would be blogging about the film crew from hoarders here at my house. Soooooo much stuff I haven't purged a toy since the boy was born almost 5 years ago AND when we moved here to our home, home on the range, we merged ours and my mother's houses together. Plus my mother and I both have a habit of hanging on to things too long thinking we'll use it some day and that day just doesn't exist.
Don't get me started on my hubster's collection of things he'll use some day. Someone will surely have to call 911 because I might convulse. It's something I try not to think about too often. It makes me happier that way...until I go on a frenzy and re-organize his pile of stuff yet again and throw away all of the trash I cannot believe has collected under it. How is something useful one day and trash the next? It kinds of blows the mind if you really try to think about it too hard. Oh man, I really need that...oh that's just crap. Sigh....
It all started, my attempt to bring down my stress level, by posting some pieces of furniture on local trading post Facebook pages. I didn't get a lot of response even though I gave them as all reasonable offers, perhaps even trades, would be considered. NADA. Hmm, what's wrong with my stuff? Hmm? Soooo, I posted it again and again like a mad woman so now surely no one will come because I'm insane, and right you would be to think it at this point. Next I moved on to posting on Craigs List. I've gotten many a cool find on there and I figured, I'm not asking much, it'll be a cinch. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Seriously, what is wrong with my stuff?
So, today I noticed there's a lot of Yard/Garage sales, I put up a sign, posted on said websites again and organized my garage into an area of sell-able stuff and stuff we're either keeping or donating. And I sat down with a nice cool drink on the couch I was trying to sell. Nothing, no one, nada. What am I doing wrong? I got a couple of calls about the postings, but we live too far out in the sticks for the drive to make the savings worth it. A nice kid from next door came by and bought a couple odd things, but that was it.
Then in pulls my Hubster and his ASS! AND a whole bunch more junk for the kids. Now, I did know he was buying a donkey, haha get the pun now? Donkey's are really great protectors if you have smaller animals like goats, so it was all good. It didn't help much that I didn't sell all but 2 tiny things all day and he came home with several outdoor childrens play sets that my kids went wild for and they "just need a little work". So, then we have to get the donkey off the trailer and into the pasture with the goats....
I feel like I should just stop here because my day had been quite enough adventure as it was, but I'll tell you what happened anyway. First, the boy held a bucket of bribe food to coerce the donkey to come, it'll be easy, shake the food and it will come. Well, stubborn as a mule...TRUTH!! ABSOLUTE TRUTH!! I was standing guard so the goats didn't try to escape. Believe it or not, they can be quite wily when they see a way to freedom, whatever that means to a goat?? So, this tact wasn't working. Boy, come over here and guard the goats and I got some carrots. Here little girl, have a carrot. She looked at me down her big old donkey face nose like I was holding a hardened piece of dog shit and bent down to eat the grass at her feet.
Great, it's about to pour, and we have like 25 feet to go. This is a long way to move a large animal who has firmly planted herself to the ground. What happened next was all short of a miracle and hilarious and I actually could not believe it was working. I got behind her, Hubster on the side, and we pushed with all of our might and got her in the pasture, while laughing at the simplicity after trying all the bribery and drama of our previous attempts.
So, now I really need a shower because as I was pushing, my shirt got wet, don't ask, and donkey perfume is just not all that delightful. Oh, and by the way, it's NOT raining. Why? Because it's Texas and it does what it wants!
Wahoo Y'all
Momma D
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