Insuring Mayhem

Halloween was met with much anticipation by the kids this year.  Each child put much forethought into the costumes of choice:  Little Sunshine decided she would join the Minion ranks, complete with a homemade Minion choker, and Number One Son (Jake) decided he would be.......wait for it........Jake, From State Farm.

I, however, was just not feeling it.  I struggled to put out decorations.  Today I just could not make myself dress up (even thought my office usually goes over the top in their costumes).  I went dressed in all black and when asked just referred to myself as "Sadness".  I mustered up the energy to not dampen the kids' enthusiasm.

We're nearing the age where Number One Son will not enjoy the pillage for candy, so it was fun to watch him help his sister and go up to the door with her.  She was full steam ahead down the sidewalks, but when actually confronted with talking with strangers, she sometimes needs a little goading.  She believes, like her mother, …

Texas, Our Texas!

Fires, tornadoes, drought, and now a hurricane.  It has been a rough time for our Lone Star State. I felt like she needed a love letter.

Early in the year, fires in the panhandle had trucks come up the highways and interstates providing assistance to panhandle families who had lost family, herds, fences, and feed.

Now, in the wake of Harvey, those trucks have been turned around, and the Panhandle sends them back full to the coastal families who now find themselves in need.  (Our mamas taught us you never return a dish empty.)  Our hearts ache for our fellow Texans on the coast.  We know too well the feeling of loss.  
Regardless of the challenges ahead of us, we Texans generally manage to rise to the occasion.  We don't have time to worry about those things that really don't matter.  We have a job to do.  I'm proud of my state and her residents.  Those of us who trace our lineage back to the very founding of this Great State have had it bred into us:  True Texans will no…

Fluffy Slime and Cherry Red Lipstick (a.k.a. The Working Girl's Blues)

Little Sunshine brought home a science project assignment a couple weeks ago.  She had volunteered to make "fluffy slime".  I did not know there was such a thing.  But apparently it is a YouTube video staple.  She excitedly told me that she was going to do "research" on her tablet to find a video to help us.  She made a list of ingredients and very seriously and slowly (sometimes I am insulted by her estimation of my intelligence) explained to me the importance of making sure I went to the store to get everything, and she meant everything, on the list.  I think she even shook her finger at me.

I resisted the urge to cross my eyes and stick my tongue out at her.  I must admits she gets it from me after all.

So the next day during my lunch hour, I went to Walmart and quickly gathered the list she had given me.  MOM OF THE YEAR!

When we all met at home that evening, I proudly handed her the bags with all of her supplies.  She grabs them and tells me, "Oh, I forg…

Sleeping Beauties

It is 4:48 a.m.

This is generally not a time on the clock I usually see.  At least not for any good reason.  But, it appears in a moment of pure insanity a few weeks ago, I agreed to let Little Sunshine have a slumber party for her birthday.

I mean, really, how hard could it be?  Girls are the gentler sex.  They are predispositioned to be dainty and clean and genteel.  They are sweet and quiet.  LIES, I TELL YOU, LIES!

Let me back up a little bit.  In the aforementioned moment of insanity, I apparently also agreed to assist El Hubbo with a brisket/pork butt smoke.  So, on Thursday night we smoked pheasants, german sausage, ears of corn, 12 briskets and 12 pork butts.  This is an all-night process, that admittedly I work only until midnight.  El Hubbo stays up all night.  I get up and get him coffee and breakfast and resume assistant duties until everything is done, packaged, delivered, cleaned up.  So, this process began about 5:00 on Thursday and went until 6:30 p.m. on Friday.

At 6:…

Tumbling Tumbleweeds & Face Palms

I'm returning to reporting the more humorous events of the homestead.  I have a couple short stories for you about the offspring.

El Hubbo is off on the stock show circuit.  And since we no longer have pigs, (see prior post), I have been re-relegated to the role of Stock Show Widow.  I am barely holding it together y'all.  Bible class, church service, chores, domestic animal care (the four-legged kids who mind), basketball games, basketball practice, karate practice....I'm forgetting something.....oh yeah!  School and work!  I'm EXHAUSTED.

But if I had to spin this for the positive, the chats with the kids in the car are priceless.

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

As I was driving Little Sunshine to a practice of some sort (I can't remember, it was dark, we are in the country, every night drive looks the same.).....I had to use my masterful defensive driving skills to dodge something in the road.  Good thing my reflexive responses are not declining as quickly as my night visi…

Sometimes, Life Ain't Fair

I generally try to keep my blog relatively light-hearted.  I poke fun at myself and my loved ones because I think it helps to keep perspective.  Sometimes we take ourselves too seriously, and we just need a reminder that life is pretty good in the grand scheme of things.

But sometimes, life ain't fair.

What follows is an honest, heart-felt post.  It will not be easy to read at times.  Consider yourself warned.  There are no such things as safe spaces in my world.

Few outside of an FFA or 4H program understand "why" we show livestock.   Sadly, the concept of raising livestock, having any kind of inkling or understanding of how and where one's food comes from (besides the grocery store) is foreign to most, even some of you who follow this blog.  (I love you anyway, but sometimes I worry about you.)

There is a fascination with our lifestyle, and I generally become the defacto ag teacher in work meetings as I explain what my kids were doing in recent pictures posted on …

Dear Tooth Fairy (aka, The Mystery of the Missing Tooth)

In yet another of a long string of parenting fails, El Hubbo and I have been named as complicit in the mystery of the missing tooth.

Number One Son is, I hope, nearing the end of the losing teeth stage.  I keep thinking surely what he has will be retained, and heaven knows he has certainly cost me a small fortune at the dentist to fill those he has.  
But, once again Sunday morning, he brought me another blob of bloody enamel he had yanked from his mouth.
We were busy getting ready for church, so I told him to go put it up and make sure to put his tooth pillow where the tooth fairy could find it.
Fast forward to today.  When he came home from school.  He said, "Hey!  Where's my tooth?"  Apparently the boy had left it in a ziplock on the kitchen counter.  That had been cleaned.  Oops.
I told him that maybe the tooth fairy had already claimed it.  (Whilst I earnestly prayed El Hubbo had remembered to notify the tooth fairy.)
"No, there is no money!"  So much for…