Soaking

Ugh, enough with this weather already...

I know, I shouldn't complain.

We didn't get piles of snow this year and we only had that one week of bazzilion degrees below zero when we almost froze our a$$es off but really, this wind and rain has got to stop!

Every time we get a gust I'm sure it's going to be the one that blows the top off the barn, and the rain makes the ground so slick I feel like Tonya Harding figure skating out to the henhouse.

My floors look like we've been guest hosting the Oregon Zoo with all the mud that gets tracked in and my little little green clean machine is about ready to go t.u.

It just can't keep up.

I think when we replace the floors we'll go with something waterproof that has a drain so I can just hose the place down.

The other problem is that as soon as it quits raining and the sun comes out the grass is going to grow faster than my waistline and you know what that means...

John Deere and I will begin our summertime love hate relationship.

I will love the fact that I'm not pushing a mower and hate the fact that I'm riding one.

How is it that #6 made all this look so easy when he did it and I'm pretty sure it will be the death of me???

Seriously, the inside stuff and a flower bed here and there is plenty enough for me and now I have to figure out how to do all the outside stuff too?

I think the place is going to look like Sanford and Son by the time 6 gets back next winter.

And then, to top it all off, Wyatt has been home for the last week AND today for spring break.

Remember all of those tender endearments about wanting to home school because I miss him so much when he's away?

Yeah, well scratch that.

I'm ready to enroll him in boarding school in Switzerland.

I hear they have great health care there.

No Moo

I'm not quite sure why, but recently I have become repulsed by meat, eggs, milk and cheese.

Why do you suppose that is?

Last night I made an omelet for dinner and found myself puking in my mouth a little as I cracked the eggs into the bowl. Then, when it was ready and we sat down to eat I was so pukey all I could eat was my toast.

It. Made. Me. Sickypoo.

This morning I made my latte and that made me gaggy.

All I could think of was my latte being dispensed from cow boobs and the article I read about the pus levels in milk.

Ohhhh ... It's happening again.

Gag.

Last week I started thinking about meat.

Figure this...

A cow from some place far less than a lush green meadow is knocked off and sent to the cut and wrapper.

Then it's put on a truck and sent to the market.

Then it's more than likely rewrapped and shelved.

It sits in the store for a day or so.

You purchase it and take it home.

You may or may not eat it that day.

Lets just for arguments sake say you toss it in the freezer for a week or so or more.

Now you take it out and thaw it in your sink for the afternoon or in the fridge overnight.

The ground beef your having in your spaghetti tonight could be almost a month old, IF not more.

I'm forty two years old and for the first time in my life, the food I eat grosses me out.

I feel like a great big pusy lump of fetid funk.

I went to the store today and bought rice milk and a bunch of veggies and when I walked down the meat isle I got a huge case of the heebes so I spun around and bought some of those dumb garden burgers and some "tofurkey."

Now don't go thinking I've lost my mind, I'm not going all PETA Green Peace or anything, I just think I'm going through a phase.

I'm sure I'll be back on track and ready for a big thick grilled rib steak real soon, but for now I have to go get some air, this post has made me pukey.

Tax Time

Today, is farm tax day.
I NEVER put taxes off this long, but this year my plate has been full and taxes are the peas that I pushed to the side to eat last.
If you have been reading my blog since the beginning of time, you know what tax time on the farm was like before my Grampy moved to the big barn in the sky.
He would get EVERY slip of paper he had collected throughout the year and make 507 stacks on the kitchen table.
Tax preparations usually started in early January and would end with an extension sometime mid Mayish.
He would have receipts from the sausage egg mcmuffins that he shared with the dogs on Tuesdays and the receipt for the new washer for the faucet for the sink in the utility room.
There were stacks of every electric bill (big house, little house and barn) phone bill, cable bill and car insurance bill.
Saved slips from the dogwash, the barber shop and every restaurant we patronized during the previous year, and for months they would make the daily slide from one end of the kitchen table to the other to make room for every meal, and without fail my Grampy would say these words, "Beans and Rice that's alot of GD paperwork, I need to get that sh!t together and into the tax lady."
Except, he didn't really say beans and rice.
Or GD.
And he didn't really spell sh!t with an exclamation point.
Needless to say, I have simplified the process.
I will use my Mac and be done in about thirty minutes and then take my folder into the tax lady.
I might even take the dogs to McDonalds on the way home just for old times sake.
So, I would love to sit here and talk to you all day, but I have sh!t to do.

Peas~

Another Great Day!

Holy Cow!!
My mail man lady must think I'm a rock star with all the packages I've been getting :)
Today in the mail I got a cat door from my friend Sara who read on my Never blog that I may or may not need a spouse to install a cat door in the pumphouse.
Boom!
She fired one off in the mail to me THAT day.

I'm excited to put it in, but I may wait and have my friend Becky do it when she comes for a visit.
She's really good at handy work like that, and you know what Red Green says...
"If they don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy"

Wendy is coming for dinner tonight!
Well, she said she was coming so I'm keeping my fingers crossed, but I didn't tell Wyatt just in case.
That way, if she does come, he's happy to see her and if she doesn't come he doesn't think she's a buttface liar.

I swung in to the feed store today to get a pin for the pin to hold the wagon on the lawn mower, so Wyatt doesn't have to ride in the front of it to hold it down.
While I was looking through the gagillions of hardwarey pieces I heard the faint sound of chics in the back of the store.
Well, of course you know the rest of that story...
Two white ducks are now in the tub with the chickens who got their walking papers to the brooding room in the henhouse last night, but they rallied against me in protest.
I am only one but they are many.

This is one of the new baby ducks.
I bet you would keep these guys in your tub too.

Wyatts home, gotta go,

Eye Heart Ewe Fahren

I am SO happy!
I got the pasture leased out to some really nice cow people.
This means that now the fences will get fixed and I won't have to mow pastures this summer.
Also, I love the fact that they're Border Collie people. They have two, Molly and Millhouse, so Bart and Buddy will really be looking forward to their visits.

I got a package in the mail today from my favorite sister J.Carlson.
Do you want to know what it is?
Me too!
I'll go get it and see...
I think it must be gold or diamonds or jewels or something because she has enough packing tape on it to keep the pirates out.
Hang on, I have to get a knife.
If I cut myself with the knife I'm going to kick her ass.
K, got it...
Oooooo, it looks like something good...

Getting close...

Closer...

It's a MUG!!

Made by my niece FAHREN!!
Ok, I'm confused...

It says "Happy Birthday MYFAM" (My Favorite Aunt Marilyn)
Ok, wait, now I'm cring and canr see very well.
I love you lots too Fahren, and there is NOTHING better than an early birthday present!

I am the luckiest girl in the world because not ONLY did I get this stellar gift today, but yesterday Shelley sent me a box FULL of goods too.
Even a package of chicken gravy and you know what they say... You can never have too many packages of chicken gravy.

Tween Stink

I just left comment 1422 over at Pioneer Woman's place.
You people really need to pick up the pace here.

Ugghhh....
Today is Wyatt's first day back to school after his week long break.
I love having him home.
I live for winter break, spring break, summer break and September still makes my stomach oogy just at the thought of going back to school. Even if it isn't me who's going back.
I would home school in a heartbeat, but I don't think I've got what it takes.
I think we would spend all of our time doing mod podge and playing poker.
Making soap and painting flower pots.
Playing follow that car.
We would end up being even more Grey Gardens then we already are, and trust me, that's saying something.

Last week we went to the white trash warehouse Walmart so Wyatt could spend his birthday gift card that he got from Grandma.
I despise Walmart.
I don't think there are words to describe my loathing for Walmart so I won't even attempt to tell you how I really feel.
But there we were, the most dreaded place on earth.
Wyatt was in heaven.
We were there at least an hour as he looked at and touched every single item or combination of items that he could afford with his card.
And this is what he chose...
Plastic bow and arrow set.
Sea Monkeys.
Axe.

Yes, you read that correctly.
I am now the pathetic mother of an Axe wearing tween.
I have learned these last few days that a little Axe is not enough, as a matter of fact I think if you're an eleven year old boy you can never have enough Axe.
When Wyatt walks in the room my plants wilt and the paper peels off the walls.
The dogs run out of the room and the pig in the pasture begins to squeal.
I am not even kidding you.
Who is the maker of this diabolical douche like substance?
I believe we could end the war on terror with one drop of the new and improved "A" Bomb.
That's right, one drop of an Axe bomb would send Bin laden out of the caves waving the white flag.
If we didn't want to drop a bomb and kill off everything in the vicinity, we could just send Osama a gift set for the Holidays and follow the Axe trail to his hideout.
If the CIA happens to be reading my blog and enables this tactic I want the credit for it.
The headline would read like this...
"Mother Of Over Axed Tween Ends War On Terror, But Still Wages War On The Homefront!"

I have to go open all the doors and windows now.
See you tomorrow.

Thursday Morning

Sorry, I forgot about you yesterday.

Wyatt is home from school all week, partly for conferences and partly for snow days that never were, and his conference went... GREAT!!!!

I am so excited and used so many exclamation points because Wy has always been a left brained creative artsy fartsy kind of kid.

Not much into math, reading, or anything else that involves a big yellow bus as mode of transportation in order to participate. So needless to say, I have never received stellar reports on his performance.

I hear things like, "he is such a nice boy," "shows empathy towards others," "has natural dramatic abilities," "roots for the underdog," "talented artist."

Remember last year when he organized and taught an origami class?

I always just figured he would be the next Bob Ross and live in the attic with a nice little cat painting happy little trees

But... Now I know he has scholastic ability!

I am so proud.

He has really pulled it together this year, found his groove and seems to be on the fast track for middle school!

The chickens are still in the bathtub.

Is that a bad thing?

That bathroom needs remodeling anyway. We had to rip up the carpet and cut and cap the waterline to the tub a few months ago, so couldn't that maybe mean that it's fate and they belong in the tub? They are so warm and happy and it's like they do little chick olympics in there. In the infamous words of Farmer Tweedy, "it's like their organized." And I swear to you they are excited to see me every time I go in there and their growing so fast and I don't want to miss out on their baby stage, it goes by so fast. I promise, if they start begging at the dinner table with the dogs, they're out.

Speaking of dogs.

The Bratty Baby Buddy and Wyatt start dog school on the 22 of this month.

We are all SO excited.

The school is close by in Oregon City and after they complete doggy grade school they can start agility training.

How fun is THAT!

Buddy will have Wyatt jumping through hoops in no time ; )