if our house had a daily newspaper…

Apr 302008
 

Today’s Headline: I Love My Husband!
They say that to become a mother is to have your heart walking around outside your body. But it felt like that when I became a wife. Becoming a mother only intensified it. Today my hubby had to go to Town. And since Home Depot was included in the Town run, we knew it would be much too long a day for little pumpkin. So she and I are at home. Very much missing her daddy. I miss him when he’s at his parents’. But he feels so much further away when he’s in town. And it’s a very sad thing to eat lunch without him. I’m so thankful for my husband!

Next Month in History
We got a package in the mail yesterday from our friend Kyle, with the pictures he took at our wedding. He got some really great shots. And because he was taking bunches of pictures, he captured so many expressions! He got a dozen shots alone of my dad walking me up the aisle. It was fun to relive our wedding all over again. We have wedding photos up all over our little home, but to walk through it start to finish is really neat… And now that I have Kyle’s pictures, I really have no excuse for working on our wedding album!

We all looked a little younger back then. Some of us have put on a few more pounds, we all seem to have different hairstyles… My husband is still just as good-looking. And I’m even more in love with him… As I look back at our wedding ceremony, that one of the happiest days of my life, I think of that Country song, “Dad, this could be, the best day of my life…” Because it all just keeps getting better. We’re even happier and more in love now than we were then. Hard to believe the end of this coming month it will be two years!

Agriculture Section
I caught The Egg Eater red-handed, er, yellow-beaked yesterday. Incidentally, she was also the one laying the very thin-shelled eggs. I got pictorial proof so I would make sure to identify her correctly to Merritt. And the hens numbered one less as of yesterday evening… Glad to have caught that trouble-maker!

The baby chicks are getting so big. I hope they don’t outgrow their apple bin too soon, though, or I don’t know what we’ll do with them. The big hens would totally traumatize them!

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to have real flower beds this year. So I’m making the one I have everything planted in (the Manzanita bushes along with the rhubarb and herbs!) look prettier, bordering it with rocks, and more plans brewing. And looking forward to transplanting everything where it belongs this fall, when we have a yard and know where our flower beds are going to be. Now if I could only keep the deer from sticking their noses under the wire and uprooting my irises. Hard to have a scenic garden with 50-foot high fence surrounding it, but it seems to me that with our deer, that’s about what would be necessary for a garden that stays rooted and blooming!

Nursery News and Reviews
We fell asleep last night to the sound of waves crashing on the beach. I even donned my swimsuit for the full effect. And we all slept soundly. Little pumpkin ate at 8 p.m. and did not wake up until 7 a.m. this morning! We might sleep on the beach more often… I bought this CD called “For Crying Out Loud!” created by two moms, of “Perpetual Cow Productions.” (Think about it long enough, and you’ll get it.) It has 8 tracks of white noise, from mom’s heartbeat to the vacuum to waves on the beach (and my favorite, rain on the roof). Ruth really seems to like it. And it helps drown out the household noise that often fills Ruth’s bedroom, beings that our house is made up of one room and the bathroom! It’s “for parents and infants from birth to wit’s end”. I looked at some other white noise CD’s, but was un-excited by 60 minutes of monotonous static. This gives Mom choice of variety, and I can just set the CD player to repeat the same track until the end of the nap.

Weather
I saw snail drops this morning. That’s a combination of snow, hail, and rain. It’s a new one in the infinite variety of weather we’re having these days. It’s been gorgeous so far this week. But the storm is really moving in. Oh wait, that’s the rain on the white noise CD I hear… But there’s rain coming down outside, too. Truly. I can see it through my window.

Offline (Internet News)
The Linksys Wireless Repeater set in Katie’s garage window did not work. Merritt’s returning it today. I think I give up for now. All my other options have to be ordered, which means I have to pay to mail them back when they don’t work. Maybe I’ll ask the local computer shop. Or try again in the fall when I feel rich and there are more networking options available. Am I the only one in the world who wants to create a farm-sized wireless network? It’s only 1000 feet of open field, peoples. Can’t someone make a wireless router that does that?

Editorial: Nourishing What Traditions?
I was finally next on the hold list for Sally Fallon’s book Nourishing Traditions at the library. But it didn’t take much of me reading it aloud to my hubby for him to tell me to take it back. Yes, he’s attached to his Raisin Bran. So he wasn’t wild about the idea of tossing all boxed cereals. And he laughed at the fact that granola was terribly indigestible and thus never to be eaten. I’m sure her points are very valid. It probably would even be a good idea to ferment grains before consuming them. I’m sure I could learn a lot about food and cooking from further perusal of the book. But as my dear wise husband pointed out, she’s coming from the perspective that this life is all there is, so according to her, we want to make it last as long as possible. Now we’re all about eating naturally, I mean, we raise natural (organic, just not Certified Organic) veggies and sell them–we make our living from the “natural” approach. But we still eat our candy bars and boxed cereal a lot of the time. Because we know there’s more to this life than staying here on earth as long as possible. It all goes back to my approach to French Fries… My brother keeps telling me that with the way I consume them, I’m going to die of clogged arteries. Well, bro, at least I’ll die happily… And I do make my own French Fries, with olive oil and sea salt, not to mention organically-raised potatoes, so doesn’t that count for something on the healthy scale? So I guess I’ll do with Nourishing Traditions what I try to do with everything I read: search out the wisdom it contains, but process it through the filters of God’s Word and my husband’s authority before I put it to use. I’ll keep soaking beans and baking sourdough bread…but as long as the food prices don’t really double, you’ll still find Hershey’s and Raisin Bran in our cupboard. Because as my hubby is always saying, he doesn’t want to live to be 90. (But he’s not allowed to die until I do. As Pooh says, if you live to be 100, I want to live to be 100 minus 1 day so I don’t have to live a day without you…)

The Funnies
Ruth is finally catching on to “peek a boo.” Previously, when we’d be hanging out in bed in the morning, she wouldn’t always be able to find her daddy’s head in the midst of all the pillows and blankets. This morning, however, Merritt hid under the cover’s asking, “Where’s Daddy?” She looked all around, and then he’d pop out, and she’d be so excited to see him. Somebody’s getting big!

Laundry Day

Apr 282008
 

Mondays are usually laundry day here on our corner of the farm. Unless we’ve used our day off from tending the store to go to town, I usually tackle sorting the loads of laundry as soon as Merritt’s off to do his day’s projects. It’s the kind of thing one wants first-of-the-week energy for. Especially today. I always wash the sheets and towels every week. But sorting the laundry this morning meant putting Ruth on our bed and digging through the clothes bin, holding outfits up to her, pulling a few pants on her chubby little legs, and deciding which to wash up for her to start wearing. Everything had been getting a little short in the legs, and I realized that as she was already wearing one 9-month outfit, it must be time to pull out the rest. But she’s only 5 months–and small for her age! Ah the randomness of clothing sizes.

Normally I keep it to three or four loads on Mondays, with an occasional emergency-really-dirty-clothes load sometime during the week generated by my husband’s dirtier tasks such as pressure washing the swather, fixing an irrigation leak, etc. But with Ruth already out of onesies from the last week’s greater-than-usual number of “leaks”, and me running short on kitchen hand towels from my exra-ordinary cooking schemes of the previous few days, as well as all Ruth’s next-size-up clothes, it totalled six loads. Ah but there’s something satisfying about taking an overflowing clothes hamper and dirty laundry stacked high all around it, and turning it into neat laundry basket-loads of clothes.

For our wedding, someone gave us a laundry basket filled with staple grocery items. It was the perfect size to fit on my closet shelf, so I bought three more of them. Little did I know I would often have more than just the typical dark cold, dark warm, light cold, light warm. Now it’s dark cold, light cold, baby cold, dirty warm, bleach cold, with unending variations.

I do as much cold-water laundry as I can to save energy. But in fact, I’m doing the most energy saving just by hanging my clothes out on the line. We were reading in a recent This Old House magazine that Merritt got from the library about all the eco-friendly “green” things you can do for the environment. Hanging out your clothes to dry was there on the top list, including directions for making a clothesline (the one my hubby made me looks so much nicer, of course, because he’s an artist as well as a builder!). Apparently next to a refrigerator (perhaps because you open it so much?) a clothes dryer is the top energy-guzzling home appliance. I do it more for the reduction in the power bill than I do it “for the environment.”

Neither do I hang clothes out to dry all year around. Freeze-drying doesn’t work very well, I’ve discovered, and my clothes take on a unique musty odor after being exposed to numerous rains and freezes. Our little house doesn’t have room for all the drying racks that would be necessary for drying four or more loads of laundry inside–plus we’ve found that with our concrete floor and the fact that we don’t keep it 80 degrees in here all day long, clothes just don’t dry that quickly in here during the winter (interpreted, five clothes racks, blocking every available walkway, two or three days a week: the reason we own a dryer). And I’m thankful we don’t have allergies at our house, because the economy of hanging clothes out on the line would be a serious threat to allergy-prone people around here with all the dust we generate. (Just visit my house in the summertime–or the wintertime [wood stove!]–or hop in my car in the summer. You’ll see by the thick coating of dust everywhere exactly what I mean.)

There was not much method to my madness today. I’m still learning the art of hanging out baby clothes versus maternity clothes. A load of baby clothes takes up just as much room, and lots more clothespins! I’m also experimenting with using an apron to hold my clothespins. I’ve previously used an adorable Bolga-style basket. But that means precariously balancing the basket on the chair I also use to hold my laundry basket (bending over clear to the ground was somewhat of a problem last summer, considering my pregnant tummy!). The problem is my apron pockets bulge with just one load’s worth of clothespins (no doubling up on two items per pin on this windy knoll!). And I don’t want to leave the pins out on the line to get all weathered and splintery. So I’m still experimenting.

And the washer buzzing gives me more laundry to experiment with. So I’m off to enjoy this gorgeous spring sunshine, and pray away the predicted thunderstorms, at least until my laundry is dry, please, Lord.

ah, spring breezes!

Apr 222008
 

You’d never believe we had record lows yesterday. It was the lowest high since sometime in the 1890′s. But this afternoon, I have my windows open, enjoying the sun, blue sky, and slight breeze.

I also have everything from my big kitchen shelf scattered all over my counters and kitchen table. I found that book we were going to give a friend a long time ago (behind the boot rack). And I wiped up those spots that have been there since the mop dribbled out too much around the leg of the shelf and I couldn’t move it full.

The chickens moved out. It’s time for spring cleaning.

But one must take a break, even during spring cleaning. So here I am with my feet propped up to read the setup guide for the wireless range expander we bought last week. I tried to set it up briefly last night, but as usual, set up is never quite as simple as it seems…

I think I want a noise machine. One of those white noise machines that help you sleep/relax. I never have been one for “sleep props” for my daughter, other than the SwaddleMe which we can’t leave home without. So when I read in the Moms on Call book that they use white noise every nap and bedtime, I proudly thought to myself that my daughter didn’t need that. We’ve been hoping she’d learn to sleep through everything. It worked for the first few months. But now the door closes a bit too loudly or the phone rings, and she’s stirring.

This afternoon she woke up when her daddy was home for lunch. We took care of moving the chicks, and I kissed Merritt goodbye as we heard Ruth talking. I turned on the vacuum, to began The Great Spring Cleaning of feathers and dust and such, and lo and behold, my daughter went back to sleep. And stayed asleep until I turned off the vacuum 45 minutes later. I don’t want to know how much electricity that took. I was using it half the time anyway. But I think I could get sold on a white noise machine quite easily. Or at least a CD with such noise… (The fuzzy radio stations seem to be at the annoying pitch, not the relaxing tone. And with a one-room house it’s hard to do quiet things all naptime long.)

So now Ruth is sitting here with me, well-fed, talking to her favorite Tigger and Roo pillow that her daddy made oh so many years ago…and we’re both going to investigate that user’s guide. Until later…

lack of sleep and good attitudes

Apr 222008
 

Upon becoming a daddy, my dear hubby learned to sleep through anything and everything. Complete with those adorable little snores that reassure me he is sound asleep. But upon becoming a mommy, I developed these mommy ears, that are attuned to every little sort of baby noise. Apparently including baby chick noise.

I’m convinced Ruthie wouldn’t even have awakened if it hadn’t been for these noisy little birds. As it was, I was awake most of the time from 1 a.m. to 4 a.m. I kindly awakened my hubby to feed the baby chicks and scare the deer away from my little garden patch. But he was snoring again quite peacefully by the time Ruth was starting her meal. I’m sure she would have gone back to sleep, but I figured I’d feed her as insurance towards me getting a few more hours. She awoke again at 6 a.m., soaked through, but not really that hungry.

So mommy’s a tad grumpy this moring. And very glad that Daddy brought an apple bin over last nite to be a new outdoor home for our chickies. It was one thing when they were brand new and tiny. Now they don’t just peep and cheep (the decibels getting louder with age)–they fly around, and make all sorts of flapping noises in their feeder. But they’re so cute. And I can get $4 a dozen as soon as they start laying eggs.

After we got the new chick home set up to get warm, I kissed my hubby goodbye with pleadings to be careful with his welding job today (on our excavator, which, as all excavators must, has a fuel tank…), and got Ruth down for her nap. I knew that some time with God would help my attitude, and thought some hot cocoa would help, too. It was such a nice idea. Until the hot cocoa boiled over in the microwave. Oh well, I needed to clean the microwave!

On the second try, my hot cocoa turned out nice and bitter, just the way I like it. And I sat down to delve into Philippians. Our church has a new pastor coming, and he’s asked us all to memorize Philippians. I practically have the first chapter memorized, ever since the “Fulfil Ye My Joy” drama/musical we did way back when. (Hmm…I wonder if that website is still up? I think it was http://fsdt.tripod.com I’ll have to check on that and re-live those drama troupe days…) One read in my favorite New American Standard and I knew I’d have to go back to the King James I’d memorized it in if I was going to complete the memorization. Oh yes, there were also a few verses about doing things without grumbling or complaining… And in comparison to what Paul was going through there in prison, a semi-sleepless night is nothing, Gretchen. Nothing.

Then I turned on my computer and read the posts I’d downloaded through Google Reader last night. (It only took me years, but I’ve finally learned to love that tool, for bringing the few blogs I read all into one place… Now if everyone would just publish the complete post in the blog feed, I could read pretty much everything except LiveJournal there.) Ashleigh’s posts always inspire me. This girl (who happens to have a son who was sorta-kinda named after my hubby) is raising her two little boys while her hubby is in Iraq. So what do I have to complain about when my husband is a little late for dinner because of a tractor breakdown? Nothing, Gret. Absolutely nothing.

So with a hopefully adjusted attitude (helped by the blue sky outside and the bit of cocoa left in my Starbucks mug), I will go check on the chickie’s new home to see if it’s warm enough for them to move in yet. (We woke up to three inches of snow yesterday morning. No kidding. There was snow on Sunday, too. And moth-ball-sized hail yesterday. My hubby was out in it.) Then I will proceed to fold that laundry, clean that bathroom, move those chicks, and vacuum up all the little feathers that have been settling down all over my kitchen…

Thank You Lord for a hard-working husband who is necessary to keep every aspect of the farm running… Thank You Lord for a little girl who is so very good even when she cries a long time some evenings when I’m very tired… Thank You Lord for baby chickens who show us Your creative power… Thank You for the blue sky and sunshine that we haven’t seen in a while, and the moon that bathed our fields in silver light in the middle of the night last night… And thank You for my amazingly dear hubby who holds our crying daughter, and reminds me that she really is a very good little girl…and then holds me when I want to cry, and makes me laugh instead. You are so very good to me, Father…

“cheep, peep, cheep”

Apr 182008
 


I guess I’m a real farm girl now. I have baby chicks in my kitchen. Their adorable little peeps fill up our house. Ruthie loves to watch them. (Just wait until next year…!) But they get a little worried when she cries.

We went to the feed store yesterday morning to see about ordering the Bard Rock chicks we wanted. But there was this adorable little potpourri of pullets just waiting for us to take them home right then and there… And we couldn’t resist. So there is now a big stock tank next to the kitchen table, home to 9 Golden Sexlinks, 10 Black Sexlinks, 4 Ameraucanas, 1 “Crested Special”, and the 2 lonely Bard Rocks they had. We’ll do all Bard Rocks next year, and maybe Buff Orpingtons the next–we’ll just know that the variety batch was from spring 2008!

Remember the little fluffy yellow chicks they sold one Easter–when you put your finger over the little sensors on their feet, they made little peeping noises? Well…our baby chicks sound just like them. And the Golden Sexlinks are just about the same color, just a little bigger. (Sexlink varieties, for those of you not into chicken lingo, simply mean that it’s easy to tell the boys from the girls, because the girls are all golden, or black, or red, depending on the breeding. Otherwise, it’s a lot harder to tell the pullets from the cockerels, and you may end up eating a lot of the birds you bought for laying purposes! All of the other varieties we bought were supposed to be pullets, but they can be wrong.)

So we have embarked upon the adventure of chick farming. At least we got to start with chickens, so we know what headstrong things these adorable little babies grow up to be. Otherwise I might become a bit more attached… It’s a pity one can’t train chicks like you can children. Several chickens always roost in their nesting box, which equals dirty eggs from that nesting box. And then there’s the dears who are always making messes right in front of my front door, and digging up my rhubarb shoots! Ah yes, they are adorable now…but it’s a good thing they lay eggs when they get older, or I might not keep them.

But for now, we’re having fun watching them every spare moment we have. And looking forward to teaching Ruth how to carefully hold them when it come time for chicks next year.

My weekend in the car seat (by Ruth Ann)

Apr 142008
 

I’ve had a busy weekend. It started, as such things unfortunately do, by getting strapped into that car seat of mine. It really is a comfortable, stylish thing. Made in Italy, I think. My Daddy and Mommy spent lots of time picking it out. And I appreciate it. But I also like the bed Daddy fixed up for me. And that blanket my cousin-once-removed Rebekah made for me is the greatest for playing on. I wish they didn’t think they had to put me in my car seat so much, just because it is a nice seat. But oh well. Dad and Mom don’t understand what I’m trying to tell them sometimes. So I’m very patient with them. (You have to be with old people, you know. And the are soooooo old. Almost a quarter of a century, Daddy was saying the other day. I’m not sure how old that is. But it sounds simply ancient.)

Anyway, as I was saying, I had to sit in my car seat. Papa and Nanna and Auntie Mouse and Uncle Mason and Daddy and Mommy were sitting all around me. They said they were in car seats, too. But I don’t get it. They can eat when they are in their car seats. And I can’t eat in mine. That doesn’t seem fair. I wouldn’t make a mess. At least not any more than they do.

It was a long drive. (They always are. Why doesn’t everyone live close to me?) But I was good, and took some nice naps. Then, I got to see my cousin Gracie! And, I got to see this green, soft but tickly stuff Daddy called grass. He let me lay down in it. But Mommy picked me up when I tried to eat it. I got to hang out in my onesie on a picnic table and kick for a long time. I make Grace laugh. She always tries to touch my face. After we played for a while, we had to go back in our car seats. (And they kept Gracie in a separate car from me, that didn’t seem fair. We could have had so much more fun together.)

By the time we got there, I was pretty exhausted. See, I’m fine with travelling as long as everyone plays with me and shows me cell phones and bright green John Deere hats for entertainment. Then it’s best if they sing me nice quiet songs and are perfectly quiet and don’t go over any bumps while I’m sleeping. And of course, when I open my eyes and see Mom (aka Food) sitting right next to me, I really prefer to eat right away. But they think they have to get to something called an exit–something which is obviously not profuse enough in this side of the country. It takes them forever. And by that time I’ve lost my appetite and I’m just upset. And then they wonder why I won’t eat. And am too frustrated to go to sleep the next time around. They eat when they are hungry. They keep telling me everything’s okay. But it’s not. And they don’t understand me when I try to tell them it’s not, because I’m hungry and tired and want my own bed. But like I said, I just have to be patient.

So, everyone else went swimming when we got there. But Mommy said I needed to take a nap. I really didn’t want to. I heard Daddy was going to bring dinner, and I wanted to stay up for that since I hadn’t eaten much all day. Nanna and Aunt Megan were about as I excited as I was when they saw dinner. Their husbands forgot they didn’t like cheese. And my daddy forgot I wasn’t old enough to eat pizza yet. Oh well. Mommy said the BBQ chicken pizza with all those peppers was really good. And I’m happy for her. If she eats well, I eat well. And I felt like eating a lot that night, every couple hours, since I hadn’t gotten to through the day. Mommy was understanding, even though she didn’t get much sleep. I mean, we sleep through the night when we’re at home, but when we’re gone, we really should party, in my opinion.

The next morning I wanted to sleep in (I mean, we were staying at the Sleep Inn!), but Daddy and Mommy wanted to go have coffee with some of their friends. Mommy’s going to write a post about that on ylcf.org. But I had fun meeting Melinda. She has curly hair like Mommy’s. And Garret and Daddy both had broken legs, so they thought that was fun to talk about. I was just wondering why they wouldn’t let me buy anything caffeinated to drink.

Then we had to hurry to the whole reason we were there: my great grandma’s eightieth birthday party. I was named after her. I’m Ruth Ann. She’s Billie Ruth. Her sister-in-law Ruth was there at the party, too. She’s one of my many great-great-great Aunt Ruths.

Anyway, we got to the party, and I stayed awake until Great Grandma came. She was so surprised to see me. (And most everybody else.) She was excited that my cousin Gracie and I came. There aren’t many of us little people in the family yet. Everyone’s all grown-up. I mean, cousin Hannah is almost 5. And Calum is so much bigger than me, he’s 2, and he talks. So Gracie and I are special. And so is the baby that’s coming. I have two second cousins on the way, one on each side of the family. And that’s really fun, because I don’t have very many second cousins yet. One of them went to Heaven to be with Jesus before I was even born. And the others live so far away that either I’ve never met them or else I haven’t seen them in months. So I am really glad there are more coming. Because then there will be more people for Grace and I to play with at family get-togethers.

It was kind of fun because I got to take naps in lots of people’s arms. I met so many people, I couldn’t remember all their names. But they were all really nice. And they all liked the pink John Deere cowboy boots that Great Aunt Teresa and Great Uncle Jim gave me. I got my picture taken lots of times. Uncle Mason and his cousins B.J. and Jesse were always making bright lights flash in my face. They were taking pictures of everyone. But me especially, of course.

There was lots of good food. But Mommy wouldn’t let me have any of the cupcakes. I bet Great Grandma would have let me. But I was so busy getting my picture taken with her that I forgot to ask.

It was a really nice party. Mommy says she married into a really nice family. I know I was born into a nice family. Everyone likes me.

Saturday afternoon I got my first shower. The hotel didn’t have a bathtub, and even though I’m small, the sink was smaller. I was so warm from the party and the sunshine, and I’d spit up a lot, so Mom said I needed a shower. It was fun. Water splashed all over me. It was so nice and warm. I think I could get used to showers. But Mommy says baths are easier until I can sit up on my own. Oh well. Maybe trips aren’t so bad if I get showers at hotels.

I didn’t sleep Saturday afternoon, because I was afraid I would miss something. Sure enough, I might have, if I’d gone to sleep. See, I had to get back in my carseat again, because we were going to Uncle Jim and Aunt Teresa’s for BBQ chicken. And that sounded really good. I could almost smell it. But then I smelled something else hot. After Papa pointed it out. He stopped the suburban really fast, and he and Daddy jumped out and opened the hood. Some friends of ours saw us and called us. Aunt Megan and Uncle Tom stopped right behind us, too, since they were following us. The temperature guage had gotten really hot. And my daddy knows everything, but he didn’t know why right away. So we drove really slowly to the next exit (whatever those are, this one didn’t take very long to get to, even though we drove slowly). And the temperature stayed up. Everyone was kind of worried. So I was perfect and didn’t make a sound. We stopped at a gas station and I got to get out because Mommy said the car was smelling like burnt antifreeze. I don’t know what that is, but it did smell kind of nasty. I liked the fresh breeze. And I got to talk to all the people who had stopped to help us. Even Great Grandma. She was riding with the friends who had spotted us on the side of the road. Daddy and Papa and all the other helpful people put lots of water in the suburban, and drove it to a place called Jiffy Lube. We thought maybe those guys would help us. But they didn’t know as much as my daddy. He was telling them which hoses went to what. And it was pretty obvious he knew way more about cars than they did. They wouldn’t even loan him any tools. And they said that the places that could help him were probably closed until Monday.

Mommy and I called my Grandpa and asked him to pray for the suburban. We also offered to sell it to him, if he wanted to come trade us for theirs or something. He didn’t think he’d go for that. But he must have been praying. Because Daddy went to a place called Schucks. And they had just the right radiator for the suburban. And they also sold him all the tools (which he already had at home) to put the radiator in. So while Daddy could have been enjoying Great Uncle Jim and and Great Uncle Jay’s amazing barbequed chicken and steak, he was lying on a big piece of cardboard under the suburban. I got to sit in a nice bakery. They felt sorry for us and gave us a whole bunch of sweet rolls for free. Aunt Megan let cousin Gracie have some of the frosting, but Mommy said I was too little for frosting. So I took a nap. Then a nice lady named Michelle came and picked us girls up, so we could go to the party, while Daddy and Papa and Uncle Mason and Uncle Tom kept fixing the radiator. So at least Mommy and the other girls got to have BBQ chicken. And I got to get all swaddled up and have a nap. A nice man who has been friends with my great grandma (and my great grandpa, when he was alive) since my papa was my age–anyway, he held me while I napped. Then I got to have some rather milky BBQ chicken. But it was still good.

And finally, my daddy got there! In the suburban he’d fixed! He was greasy and tired. But Mommy and I gave him kisses and were so glad to see him. After he kissed Mommy he headed right for the food. All that crawling around under the suburban must make him hungry. I don’t know. I haven’t learned to crawl yet.

We had a fun time with everyone that night. I was kind of tired, but they were understanding. My great aunt Shirley is a new grandma, and I got to help her practice being a grandma–she held me for a long time, and that was fun. I like it being warm enough that I can hang out in my onesie. (Aunt Megan said my rash was heat rash, so Mommy decided I must have been getting too warm lately, and let me hang out in a few less clothes.) I like my relatives. They are all really nice. I told all my troubles to my first-cousin-once-removed B.J. He’s maybe going to be a counselor, so I had to help him practice. He and Mommy said sleep helps a lot of things.

I guess he was right. I still didn’t like the strange playpen the motel loaned us. But I slept better that night. Daddy soaked in the hot tub for a long time. And Mommy took a long hot shower after I went to sleep. My poor daddy was pretty exhausted. He’d worked hard to fix the suburban. Mommy says he’s amazing, and I’m sure that’s right. ‘Cause he found an exit right away when the suburban broke down. It would have been terrible to be stuck far away from an exit, and me be hungry.

Of course, the next day it was back in my car seat again, because we were still gone, we weren’t home. And somehow I always have to go in my car seat to get home. It was a pretty long day. I tried to be patient and good, but it was a little harder. I cried quite a bit. But I was hot and tired. When we stopped to see the Oregon Trail and learn all about it, I just laid down and kicked and kicked. Then I felt better for a while. But they hadn’t brought any dried apples along, and dried apples are my favorite. But I found a new favorite–dried pears. Mommy says they don’t get as slippery when they get slobbery. I sucked on them a lot. Because I never really wanted to eat when we stopped. So I had lots of pear juice from concentrate. Yum. I was a sticky mess. But I was happy. I finally fell asleep with a pear in my mouth. But I just take cat naps when we’re travelling. In case I might miss something. Like the games of hangman Daddy and Mommy were playing with my aunt and uncle and Nanna. (I knew all the answers before they did.)

By the end of the trip over half the people in the car were car sick. (They thought only half were, but I was carsick too, couldn’t they tell?) So we were all really glad to see my house. I didn’t want to play. I just wanted a bath, a clean night-gown, a good meal, my SwaddleMe, and a good night’s sleep. I slept for 6 1/2 hours. Normally I would sleep longer, being at home and all, but I was hungry by that time, having eaten practically nothing but pear juice the day before. So Mommy was glad to feed me and put me back to bed. I had breakfast with Daddy and Mommy again when they got up. And it’s about time for me to get up from my nap now. I write best when I’m sleeping. And I just had to tell you all about our weekend. It was a long one. But it was fun, even though I had to be in my car seat so much.

Daddy and Mommy have promised me that unless someone dies or gets married, I don’t have to go anywhere very far for at least six months. And no one has told me of any secret engagements yet (Daddy says no one is allowed to get married during the summer anyway), so as long as none of you decide to go live with Jesus, I think we’re okay. I’m sure I’ll be much happier to travel when I’m closer to being a year old. Cousin Gracie says it’s easier then, because you can eat more than just dried pears in your car seat. You can have bottles and cereal and ice cream…well, at least bottles and cereal.

When I get to be that big I’ll have to come see everyone again, because they will hardly recognize me I’m getting so big. Mommy weighed me right before we left, and I weighed twelve and a half pounds. She was worried because I’d been spitting up so much for the past week. But I had gained exactly half a pound in a week, so she decided I must be doing okay. Aunt Mouse thought that was pretty impressive, but she and Mommy started thinking about how they would not like to gain half a pound a week…and when they thought about what percentage of my body weight I was adding each week, they were really amazed. God makes it so I grow big and strong so quickly when I’m little. And then when I’m bigger, I guess I’m not supposed to gain half a pound a week any more. All these things I have to learn. But right now, I’m hungry (I’m planning to make it close to another half pound this week, despite all the low-cal pear juice I had to eat), so I’ll talk to you all later.

Thanks for listening to me tell all about the trip. I’m so glad I got to meet so many of you. And to the rest of you, hang on, I’ll try to work a visit to you into my autumn schedule…

Frozen Clothes

Apr 082008
 
As the rain began yesterday afternoon I called my hubby and asked if he knew the name of the person who had told me it was okay to hang clothes out on the line because the “rain was coming later.”  He couldn’t remember at the moment, but said he would track him down…  Ah yes, the rain was coming sideways, and unfortunately not sideways parallel to the lines as to miss the clothes.  Last night they froze, of course.  And when we got up this morning, there were snow flakes coming down.  Now if it was going to snow on my clothes, I would just as soon it did enough for me to get a picture of snow hanging off the clothes and pins…  But the wind came back up, and it warmed up a bit–the sun even peeked out for a few hours.  Then I looked out and saw storm clouds brewing, and raced to take down my almost-dry clothes.  Once they warmed up, some of them were dry–a few minutes in the dryer took care of the rest.  So it takes a bit longer to dry clothes on the line in April than it does in August.  A few days vs. a few hours.  But the laundry is done for the week (or until my husband gets himself terribly muddy again).

Merritt started harrowing our field last night (after changing the oil in nearly every vehicle on the farm–he’s handy like that).  This afternoon he drove the tractor over to finish the job after lunch.  I got little girl down for her nap and the lunch put away, and grabbed the cell phone and baby monitor so I could join him.  It has been over a year since I’ve been a-riding in the tractor with my hubby.  Those fields are a little bumpy for pregnant women, so I stayed off them last year.  The new tractor actually has a fold-down passenger seat, which is a bit more comfy than the floor.  And I can reach my farmer’s lips much more easily…  Ah yes, it was nice to get out of the house on a tractor-date with my hubby…

Now he’s off to a meeting.  We’ll miss Daddy very muchly, but Aunt Mouse is coming over so we can do her taxes on TurboTax, and then we’re going to visit Aunt Katie.  So we’ll drink gingerbread tea, read Harold Bell Wright, and eagerly await Daddy getting home!

P.S. I realized the very cutest picture somehow escaped making it into my last post.  But I’m remedying that as this posts, so check out the addition below.

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