"HAMPER"ing the Truth?!?

Nooo, I'm not.
I swear....... no lie....... honest to God....... I kid you NOT....... Seriously speaking....... No joke....... I tell ya....... it's the truth that while my laundry waits to be washed in that dark, stinky, romantic hamper, it BREEDS!

I Didn't Fall Off of the Face of the Earth on Christmas!

What I mean is NO CHRISTMAS BABY WAS BORN!! Yippee!!
Feeling like a waddling Oompa-Loompa, I was worried about going into labor on Christmas --the further from Christmas, the better is our thought (cesarean scheduled for 1/12)... SOOO, point is... phewww!... Christmas will be just that -no (future) birthdays on the same day.
:-)
Ohh, and the "falling off of the face of the earth"... that is what happens with me when a newborn arrives. Took me about 5-6 months to crawl back over earth's edge with our daughter.
Hope y'all had a good Christmas!

Compare & Contrast II

So, here we have another Compare and Contrast (you can see the 1st Compare & Contrast here). So, with the two pics below... notice any differences?
Yes, I know in the first one on the left, there is a towel on the mantle because we had a (arrghh) leak and in the second pic (on the right), stockings are hung and Christmas decorations are abound.

Any other differences?
Well, I'll tell you the difference. The pic on the left was taken in the summer, in the early morning hours before we left so our daughter could be delivered (via cesarean).
The second pic was taken A MONTH BEFORE I am scheduled for a cesarean (sched. for the 12th of Jan.) -Ha! ...wonder if I'll make it... seeing as I am as big as I am.

We think our Little Someone-that was there in the first pic, hidden, will be a great big sister!

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

We got SNOW!!!

Now that may not be saying much to some of you folks. But here in SE Texas, it's saying something. Not only did we have SNOW!, but we beat the record for earliest timing of it ever happening. December 10th was the date of the previous record. We got SNOW! on December 4th.

AND, we got more than the little sprinkle that is gone once it hits the ground.
Just look!

{Remember, all pics can be clicked for a spectacular view~ you may even see the Woodpecker on the tree with the swing}

Our little cow dinner bell even caught snow...

A view off the back porch looking towards the barn...

Below is a view looking off the end of the front porch towards the one neighbor we have.
We're holding onto that sad tree as long as it can hold a swing-we had a big 'replacement' tree put in directly behind it just waiting-you can't see the tree in this pic, but those are the leafed branches from it sticking out.

Looking down the front porch (hi pups) towards the pasture...

Our little tree and the SNOW! outside...

We even had enough to make a little snowman -thanks to 'daddy', of course...

Acorns served as eyes, a baby carrot was his nose, and an aloe-vera leaf was the mouth...

The next day, most of the snow had melted away- enough for Smidgen to get a good sunning in dry grass...

Looks Like We're Covered...

...err, I mean HE will be covered. Boy, oh boy! (no pun intended). Seeing as we... I am major huge pregnant with a boy and we have a girl, I have few hand-me-downs from her. Welllll, not any more!

Wowey, wow, wow. Indeed. As things currently stand, looks like we're covered for boy clothes until about age two.

You see all these clothes below ... on the table. There's more there than meets the eye. A friend of mine from our local library (and her sister-in-law) gave me TONS of baby (and older) boy clothes. That stack on the left of the table....

...see closer below here. That stack alone has 26 little baby onesies.

And, oh my gosh, the socks. May not look like that many here. But I counted: 56 pair! ...and that isn't all of them. I told my friend, she must be the Emelda Marcos of socks.

And if that wasn't enough, another friend from the library, that has two boys, blessed us even more(!). One of her boys is a month older than our 3+ y/o and she has another that just turned 2 y/o. (I can never complain to her because she is around my age with TWO boys that close in age). ANYway, just LOOK what she gave us (and that's a king-size bed all that stuff is on):

And I'm talking NICE stuff! Just look at this jacket:

And CUUUUTE onesies...

And shoes...

We are truly blessed. Before we got all this, I had only bought FOUR things from a city-wide yard sale from the the itty-bitty town down the way.

There is so much to do with taking care of four horses, 2 huge dogs, a kitty, a HOUSEhold; doing dishes, all meals, washing laundry (that, I swear, breeds in the hamper), cleaning, bills, horse business taxes/paperwork... keeping an active, smart 3+ y/o little girl stimulated... I haven't even gotten to getting baby room ready, stuff stored, etc.... much less getting to the clothes thing... and you know, uhh, that's a necessary thing (I do have some unisex baby clothes from our daughter and had planned on getting those out-so I wasn't completely lagging in that department) ....but heck, now, NO worries!

WE ARE COVERED!

?s & Comments that I've Noted over the Last Few Weeks

Our daughter, whom I refer to as Little Someone (LS) is 3 years, 3 months old. These are just some of the things that she has said very recently.

Do ducks get the hiccups?

(w/ whiny voice and sad face):
Mommy, I can't change the weather all by myself.

LS: I just had a sick burp.
Me: What that's?
LS: When throw up gets in the back of your throat and you swallow it.

(after vacationing):
Mommy, I liked driving in the dark to the motel.

(pointing at her Daddy's forehead wrinkles):
Daddy, what are those lines on you that mommy doesn't have?

Mommy, I want kitty babies and puppies and cows and chickies and ducklings ...and I can take care of them all (and probably others were said, just not listed).

Ewww... that truck smelled (diesel) ... like stinky bottom!

Can kangaroos fly?

Look mommy! Look! I caught my first moth!! (while holding a tall decorative tin w/ a moth in it).

Daddy, I miss you when you go to work.

I had fun going to the cabin, going to the motel and going to Dewberry Farm (an amusement farm for kids).

Weren't those baby goats SOOO CUTE!

(w/ whiny voice and sad face):
LS: Mommy, I want to be able to fly and I can't.
Me: Well, you can fly in an airplane someday.
LS: (while flapping her elbows) No, I want to fly like a bird.

Daddy, you need to fix the mower. It needs to be cleaned out.

What's a comet?

Me: It's absolutely, positively gorgeous out.
LS: Why do you say that?
Me: Because the weather is SO nice out.
LS: It's an ice cream world.
Me: Why do you say that?
LS: Because I like saying those words.
Me: Ice cream?
LS: Yeah, and when it's nice out, it's an Ice Cream World.

Mommy, we haven't made any cookies in awhile.

(LS started crying after I left her room one night from our bedtime routine~ I went back in and she said...):
I can't sleep. I'm crying. This is not my favorite part of the world.

Mommy, I cleaned my mouth with my tongue. Tongues are useful.

(after opening the house windows one AM, it was still cool out):
That cold is tickling my knees. Put them (the windows) down.
(so, upon putting a fuzzy fleece blanket on her):
Oooo, warm and cozy.

I sure had fun in the mountains.

(while driving back home from running some errands):
LS: Mommy, my tummy hurts.
Me: Why, what's the matter? Is it hungry?
LS: No, it wants to go somewhere else.
LS: (then proceeds to use different voice): I want to go somewhere elllllse.
LS: (then in a normal voice): It's being whiny.

(referring to her Daddy's black & white hair):
Daddy, you have sprinkles in your hair.

Grandma's a blob-o-saurus. Daddy's a blob-o-saurus. Mommy's a blob-o-saurus. I'm a T-Rex.

What's Health Insurance?

LS: I suuure do like dogs.
Me: Well, mommy and daddy do too. So it stands to reason that you would.
LS: Yup.

(Our neighbors have a hand full of cows on a 20 acre pasture which adjoins our back property line. Every now and then, we might give the the cows a bit of hay over the fence. This was said while we walked by an area that the cows had been the day before):
LS: What's that smell?
Me: (sniffing the air) It's cow poop. When we gave the cows hay yesterday, they stayed around that area to eat it and pooped while they were there.
LS: I like it.
Me: You like cow poop smell??
LS: Yeah, it smells good. (in defense... and many will say 'huh!?!'... but the smell was more of a wild grass smell than poop).

(while sitting outside our home, having a picnic lunch- LS points at my leg and says...):
Why do you have those cracks on you? (spider veins... yes... what LOVE-ly things come out of the mouths of babes).

UPDATE Re: 21, TWENTY-ONE, Two-One...

...this post is just below, 2 posts back.
The Update?... well, the piece of paper was in "my court"... sitting on my bathroom sink counter, a bit behind a little heart shaped music box my sweet other half got me when we got married.

ANYway, the 21 Note was discovered in a sock this AM... my sock, to be exact... heeeyyy, it was my turn. :-)

Guess I better get a Round Tuit.

Halloween: In a Pumpkinshell... I mean Nutshell

We did pumpkins two weekends before Halloween. They lasted one week and started molding and caving in. Our Little Someone asked where the teeth on Daddy's pumpkin were going. By the way, can you tell whose pumpkin is whose?

I'm the 'traditionalists'. Little Someone picked out her mouth, nose and eyes... and daddy? ...he's the life of the party.

Since those pumpkins were starting to stink up the place, they got thrown to the cows in our neighbor's pasture. Well, we had to have a pumpkin for Halloween, so a day or so before, got a little small jobbie that we cleaned out and carved indoors.

After a choice of pattern pics, a kitty cat was the winner...

The big night begins as we slowly transform... well, my midsection didn't (I guess I could have painted that section orange and gone as a wandering pumpkin).

"Abby Cadabby" in the making (a fairy from Sesame Street):

And here she is:

A pot-belly scarecrow (?) in the making:

(thanks for the help Grandma)

All dressed and ready for the walk... except, hold on, I've got to go to the bathroom ONE MORE TIME (me, not Abby Cadabby).

A motley crew?

Abby Cadabby flying with Daddy:

No, Miss (real) Abby, I'm not biased... Someone here is cuter:

One last shot after our excursion and before we transform back...

This Ain't No Dress Rehearsal... this is it!

21, TWENTY-ONE, Two-One, 10.5 + 10.5, 3 Shy of 2 Dozen...

I had a little chuckle this AM while putting on my right sock.

You see, I put my foot in my sock and felt something strange... my first thought: "What on earth?" (and then in a nanosecond, thought changed to...) "Ohhhh" ...followed by an audible chuckle. All of this occurred with no one around- just me, my right sock, and a little folded piece of paper stuck into the toe of my right sock... thus stopping me from putting it on.

Whaaaat... is she talking about?!?

It all started about..??... oh, a couple of months back. My husband tells me that he needed some slacks washed for work. I went and looked in the laundry hamper. There were TWO pairs of slacks in there. I went into our closet and COUNTED the number of slacks HANGING up... 21, that is TWENTY-ONE pairs of slacks hanging up in the closet.

Sidebar: In all fairness, I should give my husband's side of the story. He says that he will hang his pants back up after being worn because he doesn't know when I will wash them (he does this provided they're clean because he sat at a computer most of the day). He also said that there many pants hanging up that he doesn't wear and need to be donated.

Sidebar: In all fairness to me... I have asked him how am I supposed to know that he needs pants if he has 21 pair hanging in the closet. I look at the hamper and I'm not going to do a load of two pair of pants. I am a big load washer person.

ANYWAY.... so... where was I? .... oh... piece of paper.... So, that evening, upon counting TWENTY-ONE pair of pants, I write a note and stick it to one of the pair of pants hanging on his side of our closet.

(you can click on the pic for a closer read)

Welllll... over the course of the last couple of months or so, that note has traveled. Next thing I know, I find the note in my mirrored medicine cabinet. So I put it in my husband's medicine cabinet. Next, I find it in my pillow case. So, I put it under the bed sheets, his side, down by his feet. Well, it finds its way to my side, under the sheets. Next, I find it in my undies drawer. I put it in his underwear drawer, BUT I folded it small and put it inside the pair of underwear. ....you know, I just can't remember all the places it's been.... I know it made it to my sock drawer once before and, I think, to my bra drawer and his sock drawer.

With all this note surprising, I really thought I had him when our daughter and I went to visit 'Daddy' at work.... the ball was in my court on this piece of paper. So, we go to Daddy's work, we visit, we meet other people, we go back to his office and while our Little Someone had her Daddy's attention, I put it in a mug that's in a drawer that contains his coffee paraphernalia.

Ahh-ha! Away from home.... I have deposited it somewhere in his stuff... away from home.

Well, as of this AM, I see... felt... that it found its way back.

Hmph.

Oh, the games one plays after (almost) 22 years.

Compare & Contrast

Do you remember those papers in school that you wrote whereas you had to compare and contrast paired items from a list? I didn't mind them because I could always find some offbeat tangent to go on.

Sidebar: Evidently, I am or have been found to be "offbeat". More than one person has said I march to a different drummer (you know, my drummer doesn't sound different to me?!?). With this in mind, my mom even had a Robert Frost poem done in Calligraphy with my name intertwined off to the side... the poem is one of my favorites: The Road Not Taken. She said it reminded her of me.

ANYway, where am I going with this... Oh, compare and contrast... Aside from standing in a bit different position and other small ancillary background things being present/not present in the below pics, what IS the difference between these photos??
Do a little Compare and Contrast, you won't hurt my feelings... I'm a brick hooouuuse.

So have you studied and found anything?? Okay, well, I'll tell ya... the pic on the left was taken during my first pregnancy at 30 weeks ~ the pic on the right was taken during this current pregnancy (3 & 1/2 years later) at 26 weeks... yes, that is ONE month earlier in the pregnancy than the 1st photo.

Oh Lordy, oh Lordy and I'm forty (hey, it rhymes) ....and feeling like a h-o-u-s-e... like an imMobile home.

Okay, well enough for now, it's time to park this motor home and go to bed.

You Can Eat Off My Floor

Today, at 6:45 PM CST, you could eat off my tile floors.
I just had to note this... because I don't know when I will be able to again.
Yes, I know, I should have a pic. Alas, I don't. But just think, shiny cobblestone CLEAN tile... I mean CLEAN enough to eat off of!

The Little Imperfections

My mom emailed this to me and it stood out too good to not post.
It's so true. Overall, it IS the Little Things that matter.

Mrs. Lee (played by playwright, director and actress Jo Kukathas) speaks at the funeral of her husband. Snoring and gas become the talking points for living with one another's imperfections.
She explains that it is the little imperfections that actually make us all such beautiful individuals.

The commercial provides support for family bonding, thanks to the craft of Malaysian film director,  Yasim Ahmed: "Little Imperfections".

It is a good video, look it up.

High Elevation Expansion

We got back from Colorado a few days ago. For those that don't know, when you're in the higher altitudes, food items, etc., that are vacuum packed, expand and bubble out to the sealed ends of the package.
That happened to me.
But, since we have come back down to our Texas elevation, I have yet to decrease from my expanded mode.
Pregnancy... hmmph.

Capable of More than Just Opening Closet Doors

(this pic was taken about a half a year ago)

But, it sure looks like she had fun!

I Just Wanted to See it Written Somewhere...

• Cook/Prepare Breakfast- daily
• Clean kitchen/load dishes from Breakfast- daily
• Mix Little Someone a 1:4 juice to water with fiber and fluoride drink- 3-4x/day
• Cook/Prepare Lunch- daily
• Clean kitchen/load dishes from Lunch- daily
• Prepare a snack- 2x/day
• Cook/Prepare Dinner- daily
• Clean kitchen/load dishes from Dinner- daily
• Clean baseboards- ha! ...when they get so bad it's not funny
• Run dishwasher/Put away dishes- daily (occasionally a day might be skipped, if it was a light dish day)
• Wash/hang out to dry two large dog beds, CLEAN washer out twice after dog beds are washed (yes, I'm obsessive like that)- approx. every 3 weeks
• Retrieve mail, sort, throw away, file, keep to pay or read- daily
• Clean bathtub- sprayed out daily/good clean as needed
• Clean large walk-in shower- not as often as I'd like
• Laundry- ha ... I mean really, it's just NOT funny. You know, I don't mind doing the laundry (and I sort it into 5-6 different 'types'). It's the folding/putting away that I don't like.
• Dog hair- use the Swivel Sweeper a few times a week
• Feeding the horses- we have 5 right now.

..... okay, have to stop for now.... I know this is incomplete, but I need to GET to some of these things!
:-)

Hey! (poke, poke)... Hey You!.. (jab, jab) Yeah, you!

Holy Moly... okay, it's one thing if you're lying down to sleep and your bladder is being poked from the inside. Yes, makes sleeping difficult... but, come on, SITTING at the computer or watching a little TV... now that is becoming unnerving at times. So much so that I had to stand up and walk around the other evening while at the computer. I couldn't focus.

Geeez... I thought someone was practicing some martial art like Jiu-Jitsu -when I realized that, 'Taekwondo' deals more with kicks... so that's it... whatever, I've never been into martial arts... I know I am just thinking 'sheesh, I'm only half way (5.5 months)... is it gonna get worse?!?
:-)

(and this pic was taken a month ago!)

p.s. My husband says 'boy muscle is different and that's why' ...hmmm.. maybe like chimps have more strength per weight compared to humans... what, do they have super amounts of testosterone coursing through their veins?? Seriously, what's that super strength about??
But, I digress... while being jabbed.

Host-a-Post: "I Remember Joy"

For this post, I decided to "Host-a-Post" by Fruitcake Sandy. She's not really a 'fruitcake', she's my mom... wait... uh... maybe I made her a fruitcake... or she is a fruitcake and she had me ...ummm... what would that make me??... okay, nevermind... I digress.

I was a teenager when my mom was a Hospice Nurse. I don't remember her talking a whole lot about her patients at that time... just tidbits here and there, I recall. She has written many of her experiences down though. It's part of who she is.

Anyway, this post below is one of her stories, but you can click here to see the post in her own format/on her own blog.

If this true story gives you a lump in your throat like it did me, give the Fruitcake a shout out and let her know, she will enjoying knowing that someone read her.

*******************

I Remember Joy

This is an excerpt from my 'work in progress'... "Chapters of Goodbyes"... stories of my experiences while I was a Hospice nurse.

People often asked me if it was depressing working with and caring for the dying. My 'standard' reply would be while the reason hospice was needed is sad, it was gratifying that hospice could offer invaluable comfort and help both to the patient and the family. My 'end of the day' honest reply, though, would have to be “yes, it can be very depressing at times.” I only worked with a half dozen children during my hospice days and for me they were the toughest and most challenging experiences I ever encountered.

I met Joy early on in my hospice career. She was sixteen years old and in the end stages of liver cancer. It is unusual for someone so young to have liver cancer ... I was told hers was most likely related to drug use. I can only assume she had had hepatitis; it seemed a moot point to discuss the how and whys at this point.

The liver continuously filters blood that circulates through the body; it performs many other important functions, such as removing toxins and other chemical waste products from the blood. Because all the blood in the body must pass through it, the liver is unusually accessible to cancer cells traveling in the bloodstream. Screening for early detection of primary liver cancer is not performed routinely. Any liver cancer is difficult to cure. Primary liver cancer is rarely detectable early, when it is most treatable. Secondary or metastatic liver cancer is hard to treat because it has already spread. Also, the liver's complex network of blood vessels and bile ducts makes surgery difficult.

Advanced liver cancer has no standard curative treatment. Chemotherapy and low-dose radiation may control the cancer's spread and ease pain, however these are of little benefit in this type of cancer. Most patients receive strong painkilling medication along with drugs to relieve nausea and swelling or to improve appetite.  When Joy was admitted to hospice, she was confined to a bed in her parent’s bedroom; it was a queen size water bed that would hopefully give her some relief due to the great pressure of her swollen abdomen and lying only on her back. Liver cancer is ugly … her abdomen had become so distended with fluid that Joy looked to be ten months pregnant. Her skin was jaundice; it had the look of yellowed, rough, dry leather. She could have been a poster child for a concentration camp. Her arms and legs were emaciated; only her face was full from the steroid use to help ease her unimaginable pain.

I would be less than truthful if I said that I was comfortable when I was in her presence; I was not. I had children of my own close to her age. She could be very difficult. In retrospect, given the same circumstances, I might give you an entirely new definition of ‘difficult.’ She would hide behind an invisible wall, determined not to allow her fears to show. She was argumentative and her moods were extremely variable … in that way I suppose she was a typical teenager … but this situation was anything but typical, she was dying.

Joy’s mother was understandably quite protective of Joy and wanted everything that could be done for Joy to be done. This is one area of hospice care that differs from adult hospice patients. The young can change quickly; they could respond quickly to different medications; thus the physicians of our younger patients wanted to be informed of any changes promptly. But in the end the only thing that any of us could do was to keep Joy as comfortable as possible.

The principal of Joy’s high school made arrangements with the family to have a special ‘graduation’ ceremony in the home for Joy. What should have been a ‘joyous’ occasion was rather quiet; a cap and gown were worn, albeit just resting on her body as she was propped up for photos. Her mother had attempted putting some make-up on Joy’s face, rather than glamorous it looked clownish. What saved the day were some dear friends of Joy’s … teenagers her age, laughing, mugging for the camera, being teenagers … ignoring her appearance, reminding her of what a teacher had said or what had happened following a football game. For a few minutes, they were all kids enjoying a special time together.

It took several visits before Joy allowed herself to come from behind that invisible wall in front of me. She preferred another nurse, who was on vacation at the time. I was finally allowed to talk with Joy alone in the room. I say allowed because it seemed if she didn’t want to talk, her mother made excuses that we (the nurses) should not bother her. There was one visit that I will always remember; it was seeing this young woman-child clutching a small teddy bear closely. She was softer, sweeter, sadder and very quiet. I asked if I could talk to her and she nodded her head, still holding the little bear under one arm. I told her about giving teddy bears to my patients when I worked in a hospital. She sighed, shifting her weight, unable to get in a comfortable position. She told me that she wanted to plan her own funeral … her directness took me off guard. Perhaps for the first time Joy looked at me directly in my eyes and asked me if everyone is scared of dying. I hesitated, now was not the time to be evasive. I told her most people told me that they didn’t fear dying; it was a fear of pain or worry about their loved ones being left behind. She rested her head back on the pillow … “uh-uh … that’s about it.”

Joy had a white gelding that she had ridden since she was eight years old. This old gentle giant actually tried to look into the bedroom windows. He seemed to know that Joy was in there and could not come out to see him. Joy almost laughed when she looked out and saw the horse’s ears barely visible above the windowsill. Joy’s father and stepfather worked together to build a ramp leading into the back screened-in porch. The two men then led the horse up the ramp, into the kitchen and finally into the bedroom next to Joy’s bed. She was able to reach up and touch his nose; the animal instinctively knew she couldn’t raise herself any further, so he lowered his head and stood silently as she ran her hand over his head. It was the most beautiful act of love between a human and an animal. This huge horse standing so still in the middle of a bedroom; it was almost unbelievable.

Joy did plan her own funeral; she wrote a very touching and honest eulogy that was read by her younger brother. She chose songs that were obviously more popular with other teenagers, but there wasn’t a dry eye in the church when the country western song “Daddy’s Hands” by Holly Dunn played. The church was filled with young people; many walked up the aisle to say a few words about Joy. Her father stood side by side with her mother and stepfather. There was a photo of Joy taken before she was ill … she had been a beautiful dark-haired young woman with a twinkle in her eyes. There was so much promise in those eyes … too soon gone.

Several weeks following Joy’s death, I received a call from Joy’s mother asking me to drop by the house when I was out that way. When I got there, Joy’s mother greeted me with the same teddy bear that Joy had held on that one visit. She handed me a note and said, “Joy couldn’t write this herself, but she told me what to write.” In the short message, Joy said she wanted me to have the bear ... “give it away if you choose, but please name it Joy to remember me.” My special little bear, Joy, sits on an old iron bed in a ‘bear room’ in Colorado.

I remember Joy.

You Must Be A Beautiful Baby

{Below is a little diddy I used to sing all the time (and still do sometimes) to our girl -sung to the tune of "You Must have Been a Beautiful Baby"}

You must be a beautiful baby.
You must be a wonderful child...
because you know,
you make me smile so,
even though you drive me wi-ild.

You must be a beautiful girl,
Sweetest in the whole wide world.
I love you so,
Don't ya know-
You are momma's girl.

You must be a beautiful girl,
Smartest in the whole wide world.
I love you so,
Don't ya know-
You are momma's girl.

100 % Whole What?

100% Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Muffins... just about defeats the purpose.

I'm not a 'neat freak', BUT....

...it felt so rewarding to sweep out our attic... yes, I said attic (perhaps I'm "nesting"). We simply store stuff up there -Christmas and other seasonal decorations +. Husband finished making some shelves to store more stuff and before the 3rd set of shelves went up, I swept all the little bitty squares of insulation off the plywood platform/walk areas.
Hey, it's the Little Things.

A Very Content Booger

{Click here to see how the name "Booger" came to be.}

Booger, our kitty, gets to sleep indoors on cold winter nights. Otherwise, she is strictly an outdoor kitty. We don't do the litter box thing. She's good. If she has to go out, she lets us know by getting in front of us and running to the door and/or meowing loudly at the door.

On those cold nights, we let kitty in when we take the dogs out to potty for the last time of the evening. She knows and will wait by the front door. After she finds any morsels of dog food left on the floor next to our one pup's bowl (other pup won't leave behind a crumb), she then heads in to our room where we have an old (but clean) towel for her to lay on. For the most part, she knows to stay on it too.

Was hunting something in our computer files and side-barred to the pets file and was reminded that she will be 10 yrs old this June. She's been a good kitty for our Little Someone. And she handles both Danes with just a look... much like this look here...
 

(Although, this actually is a content look for her.)

Thankful Thursday: A Kind Word

Yes, so simple a kind word is... and I am thankful for when I get one. There are a couple of folks out there in bloggy-land that I've never met, but they always seem to have a kind word. You know, it's the little things. RR & NN, I'm talking to YOU. Thank you for your kind words that you so often leave.

So simple a kind word is. I like to think that I'm fairly cognizant of the strokes I give... alas, I am not always. For folks I've not met, or 'strangers' at the store, or my toddler daughter, or our animals... words come easier.

But, for the adults in my life... I need to be more cognizant. For I am not vulnerable if I do give strokes... do I think that I won't be stroked back?? And so what if I give strokes and they do not come back like I envision? Am I worse for the wear?... for the stroke that I dolled? No. And I know this.

Don't get me wrong, I do give strokes, that is, say a kind word, give a compliment to those adults in my life... it's just that... I don't know, maybe I assume many times that they know how I feel... and a stranger, or folks I've not met, our daughter or our animals don't know how I feel, so I tell them. Well, that leaves me still assuming regarding the adults in my life. We all know what the proverbial "they" say about assuming.

I just know that I need to be more cognizant of giving a kind word since I know how thankful I am when I get one.

Old Man Pecan

This is firewood from our big ole Pecan.  I used to sit on a bench in front of him... one that my husband made.  Many thoughts and prayers happened there.
I shall enjoy the same with the warm fires this wood will bring.

You Turned THREE!

[though she did over a month ago, I am just getting this posted as I have come back to it and added bits here and there]

* * BIG sighhhs * *

Our Little Someone turned three. I sit here to write about it and a whirlwind storms my brain. I know, all you other mommas understand. But, trying to "capture" her in words... well, I suppose it is not easy to 'capture' anyone in words.

Since it may be the case that she will read this someday, I'll do what I do in a paper journal I have for her, that is, address her.

E, where do I begin... well, first, I have to say that I will probably have to come back and finish this as I am watching you on a monitor while you sleep and as soon as you stir, I'm off. We need to get going early (to Walmart).

E, you are so smart, sensitive, considerate, meticulous. You love animals and you definitely like to "do it yourself(!)"... I guess that would be called being "independent". You insist on taking tissue to stuff in your shirt even though many times it falls out. You see, when I don't have pockets, I often will put a tissue (or the dog zapper) in -between- my... bosom (hey, they're good for more than producing milk). Well, you have seen me do this so often, you have to get your own tissue. I've tried to explain that you don't have a bra so that is why the tissue falls out. Welllll, you've said that you want a bra... so I've tried to explain that when you get bigger boobs, you will get one (and I've tried to explain about when that will happen). Ohh, the joys... you have been a joy.(well, you're awake, will have to come back to this later~)

Other joys: like I said, you are considerate. You, on your own accord, have thanked me or your daddy for doing things for you- without prompting and that's nice. We took you to the "Waterfall Playground" and you told us Thank You twice at two different times when we were there. Also, on day three of swim lessons (which you, at first, did not care for), another little girl about 2 1/2 yrs old sort of whined/cried on the big step next to you. Her momma told her (from her chair) to get a toy out of the basket they had. Well, the little girl just sat there crying a bit. You got up, went to the basket and brought a toy back to her. E, you JUST turned 3 years old 3 days before doing this... you are so sweet.

You are sensitive. It shows with how sweetly you pet Booger Kitty or if your Daddy or I get a bit terse with you, you will ask, "Are you happy?" ...just waiting for us to be 'happy' again. It's nice to know that you care what we think. Hmmm... wonder if that is to last through the teen years?

You are meticulous. Hoo-boy, does the apple not fall far!?! I know, I'm sure the things you are meticulous about are just as important as the ones I am... but, come on, do you really need to line up your farm animals JUST SO before leaving the living room?? Or, do you really need to fold your Bear-Blanky that certain way to 'get a rub' before you come in to eat?? I'm just glad you get muddy, play in the dirt, like the rain and stomping in puddles and ride our pup dogs on the spur of the moment... everyone has their meticulous moments.

You l-o-v-e animals, which stands to reason as your daddy and I both do. You've never known life without them. At first, we called Smidgen and Smudge your 'big-sisters' (I guess at 164 &167 lbs each, they qualify as 'big'). Though you love both pups, I think Smudge endears you a tad more... you wanted a "Smudge" birthday cake for your 3rd B-Day. Well, Grandma did her best and Smudge became immortalized in cake form. "Booger Kitty" was your 1st B-Day cake. You always want to help with feeding the horses or putting 'Julieboo' out after she's eaten. You love riding her. Sometimes, when the dogs are laying down on their beds, you just walk up and give one a little hug around the neck and then you have to go to the other and make sure they get their hug. It's very cute. You also put them in their place quite well, taking it upon yourself to yell 'HUSH!' to them if they are barking.

You know what you want and will say so... you definitely have your own mind on things... this trait has its merits, but can be irritating at times. You like to tell me 'how the cow ate the cabbage' even if I tell you that, indeed it didn't- you sometimes will adamantly argue and tell me that 'Yes it did!' ... or that you 'WILL get cake balls' or sometimes, just say the opposite of what I say (not even understanding fully what I'm saying in the first place). I'm sure ... I think... this is part of your age (?!?).

You have a fabulous sense of direction for your age. For example, we were traveling down the road, on our way to the further TSC store and you said,"Hey, this is the same way to the place we saw the alligator". Well, I know what you meant, a nursery down the same way had an alligator pond statue. I asked, "You mean XYZ Nursery?" and you said, "Yup, that's where the alligator is." This is not the only example when this has happened. It has on numerous occasions.

You like to PLAN. I can only say that this, historically has been an "A----" (my maiden name) family trait. Nature or nurture, your momma has 'it' and it looks like you do too. "Where are we going tomorrow? What are we going to do? Can we do this? Can we go here/there? Talk to me about our new day tomorrow."

You want to know what's going on and you like warning about things- especially when fun stuff is going to end. Your daddy and I do well to tell you 'Okay, this is the l-a-s-t time, then ... time for bath... time to eat... etc.'

The other evening, you told me how you have "good thinkers" (you meant you think well... have a 'good thinker', I suppose). You also said that you have a good memory... booooy, you do. You bring up stuff from a year ago at times that I haven't thought about in ?!? (you're three!)... blows me away.

Yesterday, I was using some tin snips to cut thick faux mulch tree rings for several of our trees that are hard to Round-Up around... my hand was getting so tired and sore after much difficult cutting. I was sitting on the mower's step and stopped to rest my hand and said, "Gosh, this is starting to make my hand sore." You said, "I'm sorry, mommy"... I gave you a big hug and asked if you were going to be sweet like that when you grow up. You gave a cheery "Yup" as your answer.

Oh E, if you could know how much I love you... it's more than words can say.