Lessons in Humility

Yesterday Granna asked Taylor if she could run a few errands for her. She just needed her to run to DeQueen and pick up some supplies that she needed to finish a couple of projects before she left on a little EHC trip.

Well, Taylor had really had a bad day at school. She needed her mother.

Can you go with me to town Mom?

I had been working in the wood-shop all day and wasn't fit for town.

Taylor, I would have to take a shower, put on make-up, fix my hair and loose 20 pounds.

Pleeeeeeaaaassseeeee!!

I really hate it when I'm caught in this dilemma. Do I go and risk being seen by a hundred people at walmart looking like I'd just emerged from the woods, eating gopher...or do I break my daughters heart and stay safe at home where nobody cares that I have on dirty overalls with wood shavings in my carelessly pinned-up hair.

It's the risk of being a farmer. Sometimes I just happen to look like a hillbilly. It's just the way things are. So, I decided to go warts and all. I threw my little hoodie sweater on over my dirty overalls, put on my converse tennis shoes, wiped some of yesterday's mascara off my cheeks and headed out the door.

I figured I would see at least 10 people I knew. Intellectually, I can discern that people probably don't give a flip about what I look like, but I'm riddled with insecurity and could just feel the pressure of it all. Luckily, our list was short so we could get in and get out quickly.

Things were going along pretty well. So far, the kids and I were laughing and talking in the car, singing to the music, and talking about all the high-school drama going on. I kind-of forgot about my attire for a bit.

When we were in the produce isle at Wal-Mart, Taylor said, "hey look, there's Josh!"

I know a few Josh's, none of which I would care to see me looking like I looked.

But being me I said "Where?"

Right THERE!

Little did I know that she was talking about Cute-Coffee-House-Josh until he turned around and our eyes locked. His big brown dreamy eyes locked right on my worn-torn confused face.

and I exclaimed "OH!"

Not like a happy to see you "oh", but a long drawn-out oooohhhh. It hung in the air for infinity. It was very loud, at least in my head.

Cute-Coffee-House-Josh is this cute guy named Josh that works at the coffee house. Just thought I'd clear that up.

Anyway, I scurried away like a frightened squirrel and before I got out of the produce section, I got tickled. The whole incident played over and over in my head and it got funnier every time.

I started laughing and, as fate would have it, I happen to snort very loudly when I laugh. I mean like a pig. God really needed to show me some humility yesterday. I was doing the kind of laughing that I had to actually pinch my nose with my fingers to keep from snorting, so then I was just quietly convulsing while pinching my nose. Taylor, who loves a good laugh, joined in the giggle-fest as we tried to make our way to the check out.

I lived through the whole thing and have a new image of myself to make me laugh. And...I won't be going back to Wal-mart till next Christmas.

A Goose on the Loose

Our farm has had many feathered visitors over the years. I love to see the ponds sprinkled with mallards in the winter and always wonder where they've been all summer long. We have Great Blue Heron's all year round and every time I see one in flight I always say, "oh look, a terra-dactyl!" They are on my endangered species list (I keep my own) and are not to be hunted on my farm. Rodney tried to convince me that they would eat all the fish if we didn't shoot them. I convinced him that should we EVER start eating fish from the pond then I would consider it but my belief is that they only eat the little ones, leaving room for the others to grow. You know, that whole ecosystem thing.

One year we had a flock of pelicans stay for the night. I am not lying. I swear...PELICANS!!

My list of endangered species is quite long. It also includes Canadian Geese. There have been three here on the farm for a couple of weeks now and I'm already dreading their leaving.

Three is an odd number (I learned that in school). What is peculiar about a threesome of geese, however, is that they usually come in pairs. Geese mate for life so one by itself means either he hasn't found a mate or that on the long journey from Canada, his mate was lost or killed.

Excuse me while I go cry into a sofa pillow.

Sometimes all three are together and then, at times...this one is all alone. I'm not sure if you are Mr. Goose or Mrs. Goose, but my heart is broken for you. Cue the dramatic heart-swelling music.

Uh OH...Run Mr. Goose, I mean Mrs. Goose, whoever you are are...RUN!!

Eddie is sweet and all but I don't think he is coming to lick your face. HAUL ASS!!

Poor Eddie. He doesn't understand that he can't catch things that fly, or swim. Not for a lack of trying however.

Ok, that is just cool.

And...safe in the pond.

na ne na ne boo boo

He got away Momma.

I'm in love with this goose.

I think he loves me too.

Stay as long as you'd like. You are graceful and lovely and I'd be honored to have you as a guest. Eddie promises it won't be boring.

A Year With Eddie

After a couple of weeks of busy schedules, traveling and a terminal case of writers block, I found, today, the easiest thing in the world to blog about...Eddie.

Eddie is a year old today. He shares his birthday with my niece, Grace which makes him extra special in my opinion.

So here is my year-in-review of life with Eddie.

He was so pitiful when I brought him home. But, he has gone from this...

to this...

to this.

and from this...

to this.

He has a magical ability to make the sternest of faces go from this...

to this.

He has welcomed our guests,

and made new and interesting friends.

He has watched over our fields

and frolicked in them

and played in the snow.

He has made hideous messes

and shown no remorse.

We have walked with him

kissed his boo boo's

snuggled in bed

included him in all our recreational activities

and played in the sunshine.

He has melted our hearts

made us smile

and made us laugh till it hurt.

Happy Birthday Eddie. Sorry about the hat buddy.

Blog Design

I'm sure you can tell by my frequently changing layout, that I am just as interested in the appearance of my blog as I am in the contents of it. Hours have been spent trying to make it look like I see it in my head, but I just don't know a whole lot about html code or any other type of cyber silliness.

I am entering to win a blog design by fabulous k creative. I simply LOVE her design and "look". It is just so simple, so fresh, so so pretty!

One of the ways to enter is simply to blog about it, so here it is. Yes, it is shameless but I really really want to win this.

The winner will be announced Saturday. Keep your fingers crossed for this ol farm girl.

Mystical Elixir

Now I know you all have heard me whine and cry about my terminal case of the winter blahs, but that isn't what I've come to blog about today. I've come to give you good people a remedy for winter blahs, or seasonal affective disorder, or seasonal depression, however you choose to call it.

Dr. Oz piqued my interest on his show a week or so ago when he was talking about remedies for this dreaded affliction. I was actually just happy to see other downtrodden, winter-beaten souls. It's a misery loves company thing.

One of the suggestions was ginger tea.

I like ginger.

I like tea.

Perhaps I'll give this a try

I tried straight ginger. I don't recommend this.

So here is what I came up with. Please feel free to try this for it has helped me tremendously.

First of all you'll need some ginger root. I've always seen this in the produce section and watched Martha Stewart grating away at it, but never has it ever graced my kitchen until now.

In doing my research, I found out that ginger is not only a great combatant against the doldrums, but is also a wonderful anti-inflammatory, aids in the digestive process, controls chronic pain, minimizes allergy symptoms and limits flatulence! Glory, glory hallelujah!

Since the ginger alone was just too weird for me, I decided to add some cinnamon. Guess what I found out? Studies have shown this magical spice to help with arthritis pain, regulate blood sugar, and boosts cognitive function and memory. Glory glory hallelujah.

Of course, it has to be sweetened right? I decided to go the natural route in concocting my elixir and went with good-old, beautiful, God-given, honey. Well, you're just not going to believe this. Honey is full of gloriously wonderful incredible stuff!! Lets just set aside for a minute the MIRACLE of how it is made, for this is a topic all in it's own. Plus, if I start talking about how much I love and adore the honey bee, I'll start missing spring again. So here are just a few of the benefits of squeezing some of this golden nectar into your diet.

Honey contains as many antioxidants as spinach.

It's free sugar molecules make the brain function better since the brain is the largest consumer of sugar, thus, reduces fatigue.

It aids in keeping the skin soft and fresh and slows down old age.

The ancient Egyptians paid their taxes with it. (ok, I know that wasn't a benefit although it would greatly benefit me if I was allowed to pay my taxes this way)

You will have to steep your ginger (about a tablespoon of grated ginger root) with the cinnamon in boiling water. I just happen to have the most darling husband that buys me cute tea pitchers because I say I really really need one for my seasonal depression. You can use whatever you have, a glass measuring cup works nicely.

This is probably the most important ingredient in the recipe. The tonic MUST be consumed out of a pretty cup. If you skip this step you might as well just forget about the whole thing.

Honey goes in first, don't ask why, it just does. Don't be stingy. Forget about calories and think of the benefits.

Poor the nice scalding hot tea over the honey, and stir.

And, there you have it. A beautiful, magical, healing cup of tea.

Enjoy.

Lessons in Musicals

Rodney and I were sitting at the breakfast table a couple of days ago drinking our coffee and watching the birds. The weather was very cold and the birds were very busily going about their feasting. Quite a large crowd of those sweet little birdies showed up this particular morning. They were fluttering about in and out of the branches of that big-old oak in my back yard.

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes just watching. Then the following conversation took place;

Me: I wonder if that tickles?

long pause...

Rodney (hesitantly): You wonder if what tickles?

Me: All those birds flying around and hopping up and down on the branches of that tree.

Rodney (bewildered): huh??

Me: Well, it just looks like that would tickle. If I had birds climbing all over me and fluttering around in my hair and hopping up and down my arms...it would certainly tickle!

Rodney: You are such a little freak.

Me: psshht! I am not! how do you know that trees don't get tickled? Have you ever been a tree?

Rodney: No

Me: well, then you don't know do you?

I enjoy torturing him just in small increments. I have to be careful not to push it too far for fear he might actually have me committed. I simply feel it is my duty to bring a little whimsy into his stoic life of duty and work. I'm not sure he has ever heard a tree giggle. The only use Rodney has ever had for a tree is to climb into it's branches to better see wildlife in hopes to blow some poor creature away. This is why God gave us to each other. He keeps me grounded and feeds me lovely wildlife meat, and I...well I try to make sure that he knows that trees have feelings (among other things).

You see, Rodney had a horrible childhood. I found this out after we had been married only a little while. I said something like "we represent the lollipop guild", which completely confused him. I said, "you know, from the Wizard of Oz". And this is when I found it out, the heinous injustice that befell my darling husband. He had never seen the Wizard of Oz!

How is that possible?

I rectified the situation as quickly as possible. I'm not sure how well received it was but I couldn't imagine him going through life without having had his mind filled with song and dance and munchkins (and lions and tigers and bears, oh my!)

It became a quest over the years of our marriage to right all the wrongs from his childhood of hunting and fishing and working in his dads shop. I made him watch Oklahoma when he was down in his back, stuck on the couch and couldn't reach the remote.

My Fair Lady was a staple at our house when the kids were little. See, I started them off early before they even had an opinion of what they liked to watch. Brainwashing is a delicate task and is easier started when your subjects are very young. I can recall Kyle toddling around with a blanky in hand singing "Poor professor Higgins". Of course it came out more like "Poow profether Higginth" YES! My master plan is working! Muah ha ha ha!

And I'm not sure how ANYBODY can go through life without 76 trombones stuck in their heads. I could go on and on about The Music Man. Why my heart is just swelling thinking about it.

I have heard little bits and pieces of my success throughout the years. Rodney has more than once let things slip like pulling the ice cream from the freezer and in his lowest baritone voice singing "ice creeeeeaaaamm". I've also heard him singing "with a little bit of luck" in quite an incredible english accent for a redneck.

God knows that man needed me.