Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Not sold? Here is a list of fun things we could do:
1. You can bring your kids and they can play with my kids. Your daughter and my oldest son are about the same age.
2. You and your family can pet baby goats, horses, and an old pregnant goat. You can also chase chickens and turkeys if you enjoy that kind of thing. My toddler seems to think it's a blast.
3. I can teach you some awesome new dance moves, and maybe you can teach me some of yours.
4. We can discuss why many Beck fans were not crazy about Midnite Vultures and why they are so WRONG.
5. I can make you a big homecooked meal. Are you a vegetarian? You look like a vegetarian. I'll make my famous vegetarian "badass burritos". If you're not a veggie, then you and my husband (he's a big carnivore) can grill steaks together.
6. We can invite your friends The Flaming Lips over for a bonfire. They live in Oklahoma too. (Bet ya'll didn't know the coolest band on the planet is from Oklahoma)
7. You can tune my guitar.
8. We can watch paternity tests on Maury.
9. I can help you with some new song lyrics. I came up with a hit called: "If You Throw it on the Floor, You Don't Get Any More" just last week. I'll offer my lyrical skills for free.
10. You can try to explain to me why Sonic Youth is sooo great. I just don't get it.
ummmmm........If that doesn't make you want to load up the fam and head to Oklahoma, then I don't know what will persuade you.
I even spent five minutes digging up a flattering picture of you on photobucket. See!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Jason took on the task of removing her remains, which I'm sure was an unpleasant process. I didn't want to see her void of life. I saw, by accident, her body loaded into a truck bed headed out the back gate. The pink collar, that I had lovingly chose for her, was no longer around her neck.
Goodbye, Selma. We loved you. I looked forward to seeing you, to pushing you out of the way so I could get in the gate. We didn't know you long, but you let us know you were a sweet girl who loved cookies and back scratches. You had a crush on my husband, but I can't blame you, he is a good guy. I hope you're happily eating grass in an infinite field of green.
This bites. I'm seriously considering starting another blog just for animal obituaries.
Who put the hex on us? No....seriously, who did it? Nothing else seems to make sense. How can so much bad luck come to our little farm?
We are going to get another goat from rescue, another doe to keep Patty company. She was being starved, thus was seized and placed in rescue. She is currently nursing a buck kid, so we get a bonus goat! We were supposed to get her today, but she has pink eye and we have to wait for it to clear up before we can collect her. Once again....why can't anything ever go smoothly?I swear that I have an ex-boyfriend somewhere that has taken up the practice of voodoo!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Admit one thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you've written it down, you are No Longer allowed to feel bad. It's over with, it's in the past. Remember, you're a good mom!
Barrett is in the beginning stages of the terrible two's (he is 21 months), and I am not handling it well. I bribe him with dum-dums on a daily basis. I'm not consistent with time-outs. I'm really just hoping that he will miraculously become a rational being by....umm....tomorrow.
Remind yourself you are a good mom, list seven things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself everyday that you Rock!
1. I love how animated Barrett can be. We just make faces at one another and laugh for minutes straight.
2. I love that Gunther ALWAYS wakes up smiling and cooing. I have to check on him several times in the morning, because he never announces that he is awake. He just hangs out and looks around until I come get him.
3. I love dancing with Barrett. We both love music.
4. I love how Gunther "flirts" with me as Jason calls it. He smiles and makes eyes at me even if someone else is holding him.
5. Both boys love when I dance around and act silly, or make up stupid songs.
6. I love watching the boys interact. Barrett gives Gunther kisses on the head, and shows him toys. Gunther just watches Barrett and laughs.
7. I love watching them both sleep, kissing them on the head, and breathing them in.
Send this to five other Mom's of the year that deserve credit for being great moms and remind them that they are the best moms they can be!! Remember to send them a note to let them know you've selected them, and add a link to the person who nominated you.
Nicole --- http://bissell-kids.blogspot.com/
Iluska -- http://becomingamama.blogspot.com/
Melissa -- http://austinandcharleigh.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Jason's laptop went phlltttt this week. I called the Dell hotline and gave them the diagnostic code, expecting that they would tell me some magic formula to revive it. "Press ctrl-alt-7 and then pick it up and shake it, then press f5. It should restore all function." I was given no such remedy. Instead I was told that the hard drive was f*^$ed and that the only thing to do was replace the hard drive. No, she didn't say f#&*ed that would be unprofessional, but she wanted to say that, I could hear it in her voice.
We're trading the laptop in next week (It's Jason's company computer, so it's their problem). Until then....I may not post much...or at all. Don't cry, my faithful reader. Yes, I have one follower! I rock!
In other news...........
my goat collection grew today. We have four bitty baby goats. I'm going to try and find a way to get some pictures up, because they are darn cute! I have to bottle feed them three times a day. I'm finally finding a use for all those darn baby bottles that my booby-head kids refuse.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Later that same day Jason and I had a spat about something or other. He told me “you just think you are sooo smart and you know everything.” I didn’t even respond, or mention the fact that I now had official documentation proving my genius. He had yet to notice the certificate on the fridge. I went to work (I was bartending at night), and hoped he would find that silly certificate.
He found it! He used the url at the top of the printout to go and take the same test. What was his score? A full thirty points less than my score! He printed out his test, and I later found it in a pile by the computer. He never mentioned the test to me. Later when I brought up the test he claimed that he “wasn’t trying” when he took it. Who takes an IQ test and doesn’t try?
Now every time Jason has the nerve to say “you think you are sooo smart”, I reply: “Well, actually…..” (I’m always interrupted there)
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT THAT STUPID IQ TEST! I told you I wasn’t trying.”
Jason is, in reality, a very smart man. He married me, didn’t he? He is much smarter than I am about a lot of things (Jeeps, livestock, wind direction, weapons, mythology, fast food, dog breeds……not multiplication tables, though). I just happen to be a better test taker. He has a wealth of knowledge about a lot of useful stuff…no, really. This doesn’t change the fact that I will ALWAYS use that test as leverage, mainly because it irritates him so much. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do to our mates? Irritate the bejesus out of them?
(Jason, I know you read this sometimes.I love you!)
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
This is the last picture ever taken of Antonio, my ornery little rooster. He was moving too fast for my camera, hence the blurriness (maybe someone will buy me a better camera for mother's day.....nudge, nudge). He was at the threshold of the chicken house and he was threatening to attack me. Ahhh, memories.
I saw my "Antonio stick" laying in front of my chicken house yesterday. It was the stick I used to hold off his attacks until he realized who I was (the food and water lady). It made me incredibly sad that I no longer need it.
On mild fall evenings I would open the bedroom window. It would become apparent that my decision to leave the window open was a bad idea when a little, feathered someone would start incessantly crowing at four a.m. Laying there, I thought: "Dammmit, Antonio! The sun is not even thinking about rising for another two and a half hours." There were several times that he made so much noise at night, that I walked out to the chicken house, because I was certain that something was trying to murder the chickens. I would shine the flashlight in the hen house to illuminate a bunch of annoyed looking hens and turkeys (I swear that if poultry can look annoyed, they most certainly did). I'm honestly shocked that a turkey didn't just "take him out" because he was going crazy from sleep deprivation.
He didn't just crow at night, or in the morning. His crowing was pretty much an all day event. The silence now is a constant reminder of his absence. I never thought that I would mourn this hard over a chicken.
Antonio, I hope you are in that big chicken house in the sky making a terrible racket! I'll see you one day, and you will probably try to attack me. Then you'll realize..."Oh, it's the lady that always has food. She's pretty cool."