he was a good dog. he was a great dog.

Today is a hard, sad day. 11 or so years ago I found Jake while I was on one of my evening walks. I had prayed and prayed for a dog. I wanted a buddy to go walking with me. I did not pray for a skinny, wasted, mongrel dog, but that's what I found on the road that night. He was so thin and hungry he could barely walk. He followed me home (with no prompting from me.. no, really. I, uh.. it wasn't my fault!), and I told my father to feed him or put him out of his misery. 20 minutes later, mom and I were at the store and we got the phone call to bring home dog food. And you know what? That scrawny mongrel turned out to be a handsome dog. A good dog. A Great dog. The whole neighborhood knew him. He went for daily runs, 3 miles or more, with our neighbor. He went "visiting" to all the neighbors' houses (where they gave him treats). He was the friend and champion of all our outside kitties. He followed my dad anywhere he went.. he was ALWAYS ready for a walk in the woods. He loved bonfires. And oatmeal cookies. And pepperoni. And roadkill. He was a faithful friend and companion.
Last week he started having trouble walking, and after 4 days of being in visible pain, it was time to let him go. We knew this day would come. He was at least 12 years old. That doesn't make it any easier.


Jake with his best friend, Little Boy

 He was the best dog I've ever had, and I'm going to miss him so very much. Goodbye, Jakey boy. I love you.

A Very Big Day

Today in the Lewis household is a Big Day. Today, Davey starts his first day of work at a new job. A new job that is 40 miles closer to home, and pays a good deal more. AND he gets the fancy-pants title of Director. Movin' on up!
This Big Change for Davey means some changes for me as well. For starters, he will still be here at 6 am, when I'm usually just having my first cup of coffee and enjoying some kid-free internet time. He'll be here, and he'll probably be on the computer. Curses. BUT, he'll also be here at 7:30 or so when the girls wake up and have breakfast, which means we can all eat together as a family. Which means that now I have to do more for breakfast than break up a banana and dump a handful of cheerios within reach of little grabby hands. Curses. He also doesn't get free lunch any more, so I'll need to fix him up a brown bag every morning before he leaves. He'll also be home at a regular and consistent time, which means I'll know when to expect him for dinner and we can all sit down and eat together... which means that I need to get dinner made at a regular and consistent time. Curses!
Seriously, though - I'm very excited for this change. We'll have more time together as a family, and anything that forces me to be more organized and consistent in my daily schedule is a very Good Thing. Because on my own, I suck at time management and organization. I really do. So even while I mutter curses under my breath and wonder when I'm going to get time to sit and read all my blogs and waste time on Pinterest, I know that this is a good thing for all of us, and I'll just have to remind myself continually: paid holidays! sick days! consistent schedule! less gas and  miles on the car! more time with the family!

Yep. A Big Day. A Good Day. But no matter what Davey says, I'm still not calling him 'Director'. So there.

why every girl should own a pair of overalls (and muck boots!)

Today my father-in-law came out with his tractor to mow our VERY overgrown pasture. It's very overgrown because a "creek" runs thru the middle of it and for 10 months out of the year turns the majority of it into a bog. The 2 months out of the year it's not a total bog, it's still at least a little bit of one. So, say it with me kids: Tractor + bog = STUCK. When the FIL came up to the house for lunch, he said "I think it might be time to call a tow truck", after trying unsuccessfully to get the tractor out himself. But wait, isn't your truck 4wd? Why, yes it is. Now, I may not be much of a farmgirl, but I'm sure willing to try. So I suggested we try to pull the tractor out with the truck before we call a tow service. I mean, how hard can it be?


I put the girls down for their naps while the FIL went down to get the truck in position and the chains on the tractor. And then I decided that before I headed down to the pasture, I needed to change. A cotton tank dress is not the outfit for pulling tractors out of creekbeds. On went my overalls and my pink muckboots, and down I went. 10 minutes later, the truck was out of the bog, and I. FELT. AWESOME.



My trusty christmas pitchfork. Don't I just look so farmer-y? Yeah I do.



Now, you may be wondering what overalls and muckboots have to do with anything. They don't really. Except that dressing like a farm girl makes me feel like a farm girl, and makes me feel capable of doing farmgirly things, like pulling a tractor out of a bog. Seriously. If I ever feel like something is just too hard for me to do, all I need is to put on my overalls and muck boots, and suddenly I'm capable. I can take on the world. Or at least an overgrown flowerbed. With my overalls on, household chores tremble. They know I'm coming for them and there will be no mercy. With my muck boots on, no weeds will deter me. There are no bugs to fear because they will not crawl across my toes. And if they try, I can pulverise them. With my muck boots. Forget diamonds. Overalls (and muck boots!) are a girl's best friend.  



something witty and clever

I can't ever seem to come up with a post title. I hate post titles. I think they were invented by communists. Or those rare individuals who can always think of something witty and clever to say. So yeah, communists.



Figured out something this week about feeding Maezie-bell: Come at her from above, and drop it in her little mouth, birdie style! (Though I refuse to chew her food for her first, or regurgitate it. Sorry, kid.) That way, her head is back, and gravity does the work for her. Gravity! Who knew?!



all baby food kinda looks regurgitated. I'd be nervous, too.



The walker appears to be the best thing to sit her in and achieve the proper angle.



big sissy is feeding her something. I should be concerned.



We still have a therapist coming to evaluate her on the 1st, but she seems to have made some progress in the last 3 weeks. At least as far as eating is concerned. Still no babbling or consonant sounds, or any shaping of the lips when making noise. We'll know more in a week. In the meantime, a full baby is a happy baby!



Speaking of birdies - I've spent the last week or so playing nursemaid to a couple of our chicks, who have twisted necks. Some people call it "stargazing" but that sounds like they're just sweet, wistful dreamers, as opposed to poor, miserable little things. I've done some research and so far what I've come up with is that it's either disease, nutritional, or due to fluctuating humidity in the incubator. I'm leaning toward one of the latter 2, because all the other chicks are still healthy, and so far these 2 have not gotten worse, they just have floppy, twisted necks. I've been giving them liquid vitamins in their water. I brought them in the house to keep them separate from the others for about a week, and then 2 days into a killer migraine I remembered that DUH! I'm allergic to birds! This is why we started brooding them in the coop in the first place. Much as I want to give the poor things a good shot at survival, I need to be able to live thru the experience as well. And if I didn't kick that headache, somebody was gonna die. They're still able to eat and drink, and don't appear to be getting any worse, so, we'll see. This morning when I went out to the coop they looked better than they had in days. I hope that's going to continue. I haven't been able to find out much definitive info on a cure for their condition.

On a happier, holy-crap-could-summer-actually-be-winding-down?!? note:

I harvested our very first pumpkins!! Mini pumpkins! I checked the forcast, and the temp is supposed to be 98 today, but I swear to you, I can feel a little bit of fall crispness on the breeze... I might even be able to smell cinnamon. That last part is probably all in my head. Leave me alone. I'm happy.









"tongue tied" is not just a figure of speech...

Every mommy wants to be the best mommy they can. At least I certainly hope they do. I know that my kids are about the most precious thing in the world to me, and I can't stand it when there's something even slightly wrong. So now I'm kicking myself over something that I didn't even know could be a problem.

Most everybody has heard of  being "tongue-tied", even if they're not sure exactly what that means. I was vaguely aware that some babies are born with tied tongues or cleft palates, but I never thought much more of it.

When my youngest was born, she was a robust, healthy thing, and she seemed to me to be feeding pretty well, but she pretty rapidly lost weight (not to the point of her being in danger, but she was a scrawny little thing there for a while). I did notice that she drooled while breastfeeding, and was hungry every hour, and she wanted to feed for an hour. This got worse over the course of 3-4 months, and I thought it was because my milk supply was drying up, which I attributed to trouble with my thyroid. I started pumping and bottle feeding, and she started putting on weight and being more satisfied with her meals. She's now 8 months old and completely bottle-fed. She was also an extremely "puke-y" baby (which she has outgrown some), and drools constantly. She leaves a trail wherever she goes, I'm not even kidding. I started transitioning her over to solid foods at 5 1/2 months, and it was a total mess. She just pushed the food out everywhere, nothing went in. So I waited a week or 2, and then tried again. A little better, but still messy. But hey, practice makes perfect, right? So I kept at it. She's been eating solids for a month now, and she still can't really get all the food down. I noticed that she thrusts most of it out with her tongue, and can only get it down if I shove the food to the back of her mouth. So that got me thinking. I had noticed that her upper lip was really attached to her gums, to the point that I was wondering if she had any upper gums -they're that far up there under her lip. And the tiny band of skin that connects the lip to the gums comes all the way down and even wraps around her upper gums, right in the middle of what will someday be her 2 front teeth. I started wondering if maybe that was causing her trouble with eating. So - I googled it, and aha! my poor sweet girl has an attached upper frenulum. It's similar to what happens to the tongue - the band of connective tissue is too short or too thick, and movement is restricted. I started reading about all the problems other mamas were having, and there it was - the drooling, the trouble breastfeeding, trouble eating... I wanted to cry for not having noticed this sooner. I had no idea that this was something that could happen.

So - off to the dr we went (she really needed a checkup anyway), and not only is the lip tied, but so is her tongue. She is otherwise a healthy, happy, beautiful baby girl, and her weight is still good - thanks to my moment of genius when I decided to start making her "baby smoothies" in her bottle rather than trying to cram it down her throat on a spoon - and all of her other development is excellent. The doctor reffered us to an early intervention program offered by the state so that they can evaluate her and see what the best course of action will be. We met with a coordinator on Friday who did Maezie's initial evaluation. Basically she just asked a lot of questions: is she able to eat at all? not without a bottle. does she make any kind of consonant sounds when she babbles, bababa, nanana, etc? nothing. does she combine vowel sounds, oowee, eeeyo, etc? not at all. does she drool? copiously. does she put things in her mouth a lot? EVERYTHING. does she suck or chew on her fingers? yep.

Next step is to have a therapist come out and determine exactly how delayed in her speech and eating she is. Then she starts therapy, or goes on to an ear, nose and throat doctor to see about surgery. Which scares the stuff outta me.

I know that this isn't the worst thing in the world that could happen to my girl, but it's still upsetting. And nothing to mess around with. As the coordinator explained - the biggest danger to her development is that because she is otherwise a smart, bright, healthy little girl, when she tries to do the things that her brain is telling her she should be able to do (talking, eating), it's very frustrating, and after a while, she'll just stop trying altogether, which can have a negative impact on her brain development, and really slow her down for the rest of her life. And she is waaay to smart, and bright and beautiful to let that happen! I just really want my baby girl to be able to function normally, and take part in everyday life with the family. Perhaps the most frustrating part of all is that this should never have been a problem. It should have been caught and fixed when she was tiny - and then it could have just been snipped and she would never have known the difference. Now she's too big to be snipped, and they won't do anything without more evaluation.

Yesterday I took the girls out for ice cream with their nana, and it was Maezie's first day sitting up in a high chair instead of in her infant carrier (she is getting WAY too big for it!!). She was so excited to be up and a part of what was going on. I tried giving her just little tastes of my ice cream, just so she could share in the experience, and she couldn't swallow any of it. It just drooled out all over her shirt. I kept trying, because she was loving that little bit of sweetness on her tongue, but it was really breaking my heart. I want my baby girl to be able to sit and eat ice cream with her mama and her nana and her big sis. She should be able to do these things. I want her to be able to say "dada!" and "mama!" and "sissy!" I hope that therapy works. I hope that surgery is completely unnecessary - or if it is, I hope it is over and done quickly.

I can't take the heat...

...it's makin' me just a little crazy.


Been thinking a lot today about summertimes past - I'm sure because it's so freakin' hot here (the heat index today is 110!!) - and about how on earth I ever managed to survive. These days, when the temp gets above 85, which it does frequently, I just want to curl up and .. I don't know.. sleep? pass out? skip through a wardrobe to a magical land where it's always winter (but never Christmas)? It doesn't help matters that our air conditioner is about as effective as the proverbial fart in a windstorm. I get done what I can in the morning, and when the back sweat starts to roll (around lunchtime or so - lovely, isn't it?) I plop down on the couch and pray for mercy til at least dinnertime. And cooking? HA. Make yourself a salad already.
It's kind of surprising that I don't handle the heat better. I grew up in Florida, just north of Tampa.. you know, in that hot part of the state too far from the ocean to enjoy the cool breezes. 90 was a balmy spring day. 75 was a cold snap. If the temperature did manage to drop below 60, we were busting out hats and scarves. I vividly remember peeling my thighs off the vinyl seats of the old powder blue station wagon, and not being able to touch the seatbelt for the first 5 or 10 minutes without risking 3rd degree burns. (To the genius that decided that cars should have vinyl seats - bite me. You suck.) 
But I also remember going to Disney World and Busch Gardens in the MIDDLE of summer, and playing football or basketball outside with friends, or riding bikes to my best friend's house.. baseball games, picnics, trips to the park, etc. All done smack in the hottest time of the year. I didn't die. I don't recall particularly feeling that I wanted to. That feeling seems to be something that I have acquired with age. And possibly a reduced heat tolerance. I SWEAR it was not this hot when I first moved here. Beautiful, wonderful, temperate Tennessee has betrayed me. It's gotten ridiculously hot, and there's no ocean to cool off in.


I want to be here right now!!

 We bought the girls (ok, we bought Davey) a little blue plastic swimming pool the other day. It helps. It's no Gulf of Mexico, but it gets the job done. Thursday we're getting a loaner window AC unit to help our poor, geriatric central AC, and things around here should improve. I eat a lot of popsicles. And ice cream. And freeze-pops. And salads. I expect to be 10 pounds lighter by the end of the month. Ah, silver lining!!

morning coffee

One of the things I love most about our little farm is getting up early (when I actually manage to wake up - which is much easier to do when the hubby is shaking you, saying "The baby wants to talk to you!" This usually means that she has pooped, because otherwise he'd just get her a bottle himself and she'd go back to sleep and I would have missed this gorgeous morning. But, I digress.) and enjoying my coffee on the front porch. This morning it was actually cool enough that I needed a sweater, which in these days of 90+ degree weather, is really a welcome change.
I love the early morning sounds here on the farm. All the birds are chirping and singing, and the hawk family is calling to each other across the front pasture. I have a sort of love/chagrin relationship with those hawks. They are so majestic and beautiful, and one time I even got up really close to one when it was sitting on a stump eating some small critter or other, which was just so cool! But then there's the whole "can't free-range the chickens" thing, because seriously, with all the trouble we've had keeping chickens alive here, hawks are the last thing we need. Still, they are incredibly beautiful - as are the blue herons, cardinals, goldfinches, indigo buntings, wild turkeys (which I think are pretty cool, even though the bastards wiped out my blackberry patch!), and about a thousand other birds I can't even name. Then there's our muscovies. It took me a little while to get used to ducks roosting in trees (which muscovies are wont to do), but it's pretty fun to watch them swooping from the pond to the trees and back again.  I also had another unexpected visitor this morning - a doe - munching on our (VERY) unmown grass by the chicken coop. She didn't stay long, but still!! She was only about 20 feet away. See, honey? There's a really great excuse not to mow the lawn!

And, speaking of chickens - we're trying again. 11 new babies and 2 more turkeys. I'm thinking about setting up a tent next to the coop and living in it with my shotgun. I only wish I was kidding.

Summer time, and the livin' is easy..

So it's been almost a month, and not a peep from me? For shame!
Seriously, though - it's summertime, and that means that things have been super busy around here. We had a week of camp to run at Smoky Mountain Christian Camp, which was so stinkin' fun, and then we had family in from Florida, and in the middle of it all, I had to have emergency oral surgery to remove the wisdom teeth I should have had cut out 10 years ago but was too chicken to take care of (and for the record - I'm still all hopped up on hydrocodone because my jaw is jacked up now, so if none of what I'm typing makes sense, well, there you go). There's been barely any time to do much in the way of gardening, or cooking, or crafting, or any of that stuff I love to do. Any free time I have had in the last two weeks I've pretty much spent drooling on the couch. So. To briefly sum up what's happened here at the farm: our chickens were wiped out AGAIN while we were away at camp. So much for whatever-proofing the chicken run. We think it was a racoon. Or a whole dang pack of them. Like a 50's gang of greaser punks with little black face masks and pointy noses. Urgh. I hate racoons. The garden nearly got overrun with weeds while we were away, so Davey took the weedeater to them, and since then he's been putting down layer after layer of straw.. it looks so nice! We've harvested pickling cucumbers, peppers, peas, yellow squash and zucchini so far, with lots more still to come. I lost all the tomatoe plants in my kitchen garden to spider mites and aphids.. well, really what did them in was the homemade pesticide. It killed the bugs, and fried the plants to a nice crispy black. Got new plants from the market to put in. Now I just have to stop drooling long enough to get the job done.
Today I ripped out the peas and kale, and about double my body weight in weeds, so I'm feeling optimistic. The fact that it's not 110 degrees out sure does help alot.
Tonight's chores are making pesto and figuring out how to turn 15 pounds of zucchini into dinner. Hooray for summer!

Stretching the budget

(I know I'm on a bit of a food kick here lately... I think it's because of all the good fresh food we've been having. Not to mention that I just love food. A lot.)

When Davey and I first married, I freaked him out a little when I boiled and deboned various cuts of chicken to make a pot of soup for dinner. He had never seen it done before, and thought it was strange (he has since become a fan). I thought it was strange that he thought it was strange. I’ve been deboning cooked chicken for chicken and dumplings, soup, etc, since I was old enough to pull up a chair to the counter. In fact, as a kid, it was a job that I really disliked. As I got older though, and had to pay for my own grocery bill, I understood why my frugal mother cooked this way. I know that for a lot of people the only chicken they use is the boneless/skinless tenderloins/breasts, or maybe those precooked strips in the freezer section. I love me some tenderloins, and there are some meals I make that practically require that particular cut of chicken. But when you think about it, that's like the filet mignon of chicken. When we started raising chickens of our own, I really started to consider the whole bird in terms of food. Do you know how many chickens have to die to make one package of tenderloins or breasts? (hint: there's only 2 per bird) What about all the rest of the chicken? Cheaper cuts of chicken or beef can have a huge impact on both the quality and quantity of food I can cook for our family each week. And with only one income, and 2 kids in diapers, well… that’s pretty darn important.
Last week at the store I found a 6 and a half pound whole chicken on for a little over 4 dollars. You can bet I snatched that baby up. When I got it home and got ready to cook it, I was all prepared to throw it in the stock pot and get a few meals out of it… but then I realized how big this bird was. It seemed a waste to only boil it. So, in a fit of culinary frenzy, I decided to stuff it, roast it, and make all the trimmings. It was like Thanksgiving in May! I only had box stuffing, which was a little disappointing, but still pretty good. I greased the bird lightly with shortening, seasoned it with garlic, thyme and paprika, and cooked it for about 3 and a half hours. Along with gravy, (real) mashed potatoes, and green beans (and of course homemade biscuits!), this fed us VERY well for 3 days. Today I boiled what was left into a gorgeous broth and deboned what chicken was left and wound up with enough to make 2 more meals, both of which will most likely last us at least 2 days each. So that’s 7 days of eating out of 1 chicken. Not too shabby! Not to mention delicious!

I know that cooking is quite a challenge for some, and I was fortunate to grow up with a mother who cooked regularly and well – mostly due to my wonderful great-grandmother, who, hands down made the best fried chicken on the planet – but learning to cook can be a real budget saver. Not to mention tasty and nutritious. The simple fact is this: good food doesn’t have to be expensive!

biscuity goodness

This weekend is National Biscuit Fest in Knoxville, and in honor of that, I'm talkin' biscuits today. Here in the south, seems like folks are especially passionate about their biscuits. And everybody can remember how their Meemaw made the best biscuits ever. I didn't have a "Meemaw", (because in Florida we think that plain ol' "Grandma" works just fine, thank you) and apparently if your ancestors hail from Southern Georgia, that makes them cornbread folks, anyhow. As a result, I can make 4 different kinds of cornbread, but I'm still trying to master the art of the biscuit.

For years, the only biscuits I'd ever had came from Kentucky Fried Chicken or Cracker Barrel, or the occasional sausage biscuit at McDonalds. Sad, I know. But now that I live in Tennessee, I've actually had some real, honest-to-gosh homemade biscuits, and there is truly no comparison. Back when I was a "career woman" (HA!), there was a sweet lady I worked with who made delicious biscuits and brought them in to work, still hot, and shared them with us. They were amazing! Just before I left my job, I asked her for the recipe, and in true Meemaw fashion, it wasn't scientific - just put some self-rising flour in a bowl, add some kind of fat, and buttermilk. I tried to get measurements out of her, but she had a specific bowl she put the flour in, and a certain cup for the buttermilk, and she just eyeballed it. Joy.

That was 6 months ago. And I'm still trying to get it just right. I've tried shortening, olive oil, cold butter, room temp butter, shortening. I've tried 2 cups of flour, 3 cups, 2 and 1/2. Last night, I came very darn near to success, if I do say so myself. Cold butter is definitely key. Good quality self-rising flour is also important. And lots of buttermilk. If the dough is too dry, the biscuits are tough. And nobody likes a tough biscuit. As for measurements, well, you just have to eyeball it. That really is how it works.

So here it is. My biscuit recipe:

 I usually start with 2 cups of self-rising flour, a 3rd of a stick of butter (COLD!) and about a cup of buttermilk, and add more flour as needed. Really, though, you want the dough to be as sticky as possible but still manageable. I cut the cold butter into the flour with a pastry cutter or fork, and when it's relatively well mixed and crumbly, add the buttermilk and stir to form a somewhat cohesive ball. Try to stir it as little as possible. It should not be smooth. Then I dump the whole thing onto a clean, floured countertop and press it out to about 1/2 inch thickness, and then cut into rounds with a glass dipped in flour. Try to cut all the biscuits on the first go-round, because if you have to reshape the dough and cut again, those biscuits won't be quite as soft. Place them on a greased cookie sheet and bake at 375  for 15 minutes, or until they're slightly browned on top. You can also brush the tops with butter before baking to get that lovely golden brown color (I prefer pasty white biscuits, myself). I'm still working on the fluff factor. I'd like them to rise more, but so far I've only had a good rise when there was waaaaay too much baking powder and it ruined the taste. I'd rather have a biscuit that's a little more dense but still delicious. Slather these babies with a little homemade blueberry preserves (really, any jelly or jam will do, but blueberry preserves are my favorite!) and you've got yourself one tasty breakfast.

So there you have it. Homemade biscuits, Meemaw-style.


***editor's note: I just heard that I have apparently been forgetting the hot water in this recipe. That would explain so much. So. Add a few tablespoons of hot water. The recipe above still works, but adding the hot water will make them EVEN BETTER. Now I need to go make some more biscuits.

adventures in eating

Now that the weather is warming up, the farmers markets in our area are all getting into the swing of things, and I'm going crazy eating things. It's like the first rush of spring for my taste buds; real, fresh, delicious, succulent FOOD! Last week I bought a head of cabbage to make cole slaw (MY way, with no nasty mayonaise.. all you mayo haters out there can hit me up and I'll send you the recipe - it's good) and I ended up eating shredded cabbage by the fistful before I even got the stuff made. It was so sweet and spicy and fresh! There is just nothing in the supermarkets that can compare to the gorgeous foods we can get locally. Or grow ourselves, for that matter. I just wish I knew how those Mennonites get their cabbage and greens and whatnot out so quickly (I'm definitely a novice gardener)... my cabbage has yet to head up, the tomatoes are just starting to blossom, as are the various squashes (is "squashes" the plural of squash, or is it just "squash"? hmmmm), peppers, and so on. I would have had plenty of lettuce by now if it weren't for the stupid ducks. Stupid ducks! They wiped out my collards, too. Oh well. I get plenty of exercise running after them with a stick, and I bet the neighbors think it's funny, too. Anyway. Back to food.
One of the things I love most about the farmers market is how it opens up whole new worlds of vegetable possibilities for us. For example - I had never had beets until I saw some gorgeous ones last summer, and couldn't resist bringing them home. Turns out that I don't like them cooked, but they were pretty tasty raw, sliced thin with a little salt and balsamic vinegar. We've bought and eaten just about every kind of pepper you can imagine (and I saved the seeds to grow at home!), as well as acorn, butternut, and pattypan squash. And just last week we discovered that turnips are freakin' tasty. I mean, seriously good. So good we went out the next day and bought seed to put in a row. Our vegetable vocabulary is so much bigger now than carrots, peas and potatoes. (Speaking of peas.... mmmm. I love fresh peas. That's all.) I look forward to my trip to the market every week to find out what new deliciousness might be in store. It's so much better than food out of a box or a can... even home-canned.
I think it would be awesome if everyone would stop and really look at the food they're buying, and ask where it came from, and what it really is. There is such an amazing variety of foods out there, grown virtually right next door. It's better for our economy, it's better for our health, it's better for the planet's health. Do something crazy - try some turnips!


(oh, and by the bye - I also tried rabbit a few weeks ago and can definitely say that it is tasty. Especially wrapped in bacon and grilled. It's also good in stew. Just sayin'.)

decisions, choices, and all that jazz

Lately we have been doing a lot of brainstorming on ways to make a living (or at least nicely augment our living) by farming. That was always our eventual goal, and now we've gotten to a place where we are ready to dig in and make a plan. We've kicked around all sorts of options, from raising critters for fiber (like angora bunnies and cashmere goats) to meat critters to produce. There are so many options to consider, and so many little details required of each one, all of which take time and, most importantly, money. It's hard to decide what would be the most profitable, and the most worth our time and effort. There is so much preparation that would have to be done. For starters, the groundwork to prevent the upper field from flooding so that we can use it for livestock or crops; fencing for goats, or llamas; housing for rabbits; tilling, irrigation, the list goes on and on. I think eventually we hope to try out all the grand ideas we've had. After all, we don't want to put all our eggs in one basket! Right now, though, we're just trying to figure out which of all these ideas will be our primary goal, and hopefully, moneymaker. Given our setup here, available land for cultivating, etc, we're strongly leaning towards herbs. They don't require huge amounts of land, are virtually pest-free, and have a fairly good profit margin. Plus, there are so many goods and products that we can expand to over time that would include the use of our herbs (herbed goat cheese, dips, flavored oils, teas, infusions, tinctures, sachets, lotions, soaps, etc, etc, etc!). It also doesn't hurt us at all that I am, and have been for a long time, pretty obsessed with herbs of all kinds. Of course, this doesn't mean that we won't still grow pumpkins and tomatoes and lots of other goodies, we'd just be primarily focusing on herbs, with the goal of eventually expanding to other, herb-related products. So. There it is. The Big Idea. Now we just have to figure out how to start putting it into action.

meanwhile, back at the farm...

Spring is well underway, and we here at the farm are deeply in thrall. Davey and I both have become obsessed with planting and growing. He spent the last week tilling up a massive area for growing corn and pumpkins. And then he made the mistake of letting me have a hand in the planting, so now it's also got squash and zucchini and cucumbers and pole beans. (But I swear, I'm measuring this time!! I will NOT overcrowd! Scout's honor!) Tonight we're putting in a row of scallions and tomatoes, and even though it's really too late in the season, I'm thinking of planting some beets. Oh, and canteloup.. and.. and.. See what I mean?
We also got our pasture mowed by Davey's dad, and the whole place looks so great. We really need to get a tractor, but we're trying (HA!) to save for one and pay cash, and not go into debt. In the meantime, we're having to rely on the help of family to keep this place from getting out of hand. I kind of like that it's a community effort.
Up here at the house I'm having loads of fun puttering around in my little vegetable garden, planting flowers, and sorting my ridiculously large collection of herb seeds, trying to figure out how I can possibly make enough space up here to plant them all. I have a secret obsession with herbs, whether for culinary or medicinal use... I just find them freakin' intoxicating. Seeds in general appeal to my love of collecting little things - like beads and rocks and shells. I may never get them all planted, but you can bet I had a jolly good time sorting them into piles and dreaming of growing them. It's the simple things. Really it is.

Oh, and we also got some new critters over the weekend - turkeys! We picked up 2 turkey poults at the animal market, a Bronze and a Royal Palm, which I named Thanksgiving and Christmas, respectively. They're going to be delicious! But right now they're just tiny little things, and kinda cute. Thanky is especially friendly, too. He runs up to say hi every time I open the door to the coop. The little guy is fearless. This does not help my resolve to eat him in about 6 months. Oh dear.
We got a couple of quail as well, and again, tiny and cute!! It's kind of ironic that I don't want to eat things that are cute, but I also don't want to eat things that are ugly either... Oh dear.
We're also seriously considering how we can raise goats, both meat and dairy... especially with regards to containment, since goats are notoriously talented escape artists, and the local dogs are notoriously fond of goat for dinner. We're also looking into rabbits. I've never eaten goat, or rabbit, but I'm interested in anything that will reduce the grocery bill and our reliance on packaged food. And I've heard from fairly reliable sources that both are quite tasty. Of course, I heard the same thing about squirrel, and I found that to be VERY untrue. Oh dear.

We also decided over the weekend that worm farming seems pretty straightforward. Poop + rotten hay = earthworms. HUGE earthworms. Hundreds of earthworms. Anybody wanna go fishing? :)

of rain and cow poop

Rain wears a different dress for me now. Used to be that I only saw rain as a beach-day spoiler, at least for the 20 minutes it took to blow through (ah, summer afteroon thundershowers!). Now I find myself grateful for rain, even hopeful for it, because it means that my garden will be getting much-needed water (this is made even more imortant by the fact that we don't have cold water that actually runs, but that's another story for another time). Admittedly, I don't like it when our front pasture looks like this:

but I do love a nice spring shower. I even find myself planning my endeavors around the weather, not in hopes that it won't rain, but that it will. Yesterday I spent the day transplanting some flowers from my mom's garden to mine, knowing that sometime today we were due some rain, which would help all my transplants thrive. It's nice to look out the window and get a little thrill of joy when raindrops start to fall. I can't wait for flowers to bloom and tomatoes to grow. All my little seedlings are happy today, and so am I.

My mom and I had a similar conversation yesterday about poop. I mean, who ever thought that cow dookie would be so exciting?! I love being able to say, "Oh, you need compost? I've got all the compost you need, just bring a shovel!" Seriously, I get downright giddy thinking of scooping all the poop our cow generates and putting it in my garden (I got a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow for Christmas!). Black Gold, indeed.

The new baby chicks are here, and they are so, so cute. I'm pretty excited about these little guys (or girls - they're all straight run so we won't know what we've got for at least a month or two). We found a lady breeding and selling locally, and she had some varieties that I've been wanting to get, like Welsummers and Cuckoo Marans. This means that we'll get some DARK brown eggs. Got more Ameracaunas, too, so I'm trying again for blue/green egg layers. We also got a Sicilian Buttercup, which I've been told is extremely rare. I'm thinking that Buttercup is not for eating. Since we don't have any full size chickens left, we're brooding them out in the coop, and they seem very happy with the setup. I have very high hopes for this batch of chicks. Now we just need to get the chicken run all fixed up and doggy-proofed for them.

I'm also getting really excited about the garden this year (not so much today, since it's pouring rain. Looks like my brilliant plan to put the seedlings in the ground before the storm was supposed to hit tonight is kaput.)
Davey and I spent the weekend creating two more beds to plant in, so I'll be able to grow a lot more this year. I'm notorious for trying to crowd too much into my garden beds anyway. I'm trying really hard to control that impulse, because it makes harvesting so much more difficult when you have to hack your way thru a jungle of tomato vines to get anywhere. I'm pretty hyped about the prospect of growing pickling cucumbers and cantaloupes on a trellis. Amazing what a girl can accomplish when she's not pregnant and puking all the time! Also, it looks like I will finally get my herb garden I've been wanting so badly. I'd love to be able to quit buying most of them from the store and just use fresh. It's always been my goal to eliminate supermarket shopping as much as possible. If I could get everything we can't grow from the Mennonite market, I'd be a happy girl. Still, little by little, I'm learning how to eliminate unnecessary stuff. The house is getting cleaner, we are happier for it, and life, overall, is good. I wouldn't trade this simpler life for anything... even if I do sometimes dream of hardwood floors and cold water that acutally runs. (I truly believe that God is using this house to teach me some humility.) After all, I get to wake up every morning to this:

And I know that my girls are going to get to grow up doing things I always wanted to as a kid: raising chickens and cows and (hopefully) goats and bunnies and things. Farming, gardening, learning how to really be self-sufficient and not so materialistic. I hope that we can teach them that life is about experiences, not things.


(Oh, and for the record: Toad at the Bijou Theatre was AWESOME. So was my Woodruff Downtown Nut-brown ale :) Yay for grown-up time!)

bye bye birdies

So. I've been working up to being able to write this for the last 4 days or so now, but first I had to filter through the outrage, the anger, and the terrible sadness. Friday morning our chicken flock was wiped out by some neighborhood dogs. We no longer have an egg problem. Friday morning I got up and started getting the girls up for the day, and I heard a howl from the side of the house the chicken coop is on, and looked out the window in time to see two dogs coming out of the chicken coop. Not good. I ran out to the coop, but it was too late. They had obviously had quite a bit of fun tossing the chickens around. At first glance, all of them were dead. It was horrible. I chased the dogs out of the coop and tried to assess the damage, but I was crying too hard at that point. So I went inside and called Davey and semi-coherently tried to sob out what had happened. I think all he managed to understand was that something had happened to the chickens. (Clearly I am not a calm person in a crisis. I should work on that.) I went out to the coop a little while later, after having a good cry, and reassessed the damage. Of 22 chickens, there were 9 still breathing and in various states of shock and injury. As of today, only 3 of those 9 are still alive, with one still questionable. My 4 baby Ameracaunas that I was so excited about were in the 19 killed. So was Pretty Girl, my pet Speckled Sussex. I understand that (with the exception of Pretty Girl, who was NOT for eating) all of these chickens were going to die at some point. And I was ok with them eventually ending up in the soup pot. And we've lost chickens to dogs before. But something about this massive slaughter just felt too awful. I guess because the chickens were in their home, where they should have been safe. The coop and the attached chicken run were intended to protect them from things like this, and clearly failed to do so (it looks like the dogs dug their way into the run). Plus, I'm all mommy-fied and soft now, with the hormonal need to protect everything I can remotely imagine needs mothering and nurturing. Maybe putting chickens in the soup pot is going to be harder than I thought. One thing is for sure. Since moving to the farm, we've become a lot more familiar with death. Ducks, chickens, a cow, even pets. And so far, none of them have died to feed us, except for a couple of squirrels, which didn't feed us much, and I sincerely hope will never have to feed us again. Blech. Anyway. I hope that this gets easier. And I hope that we get better at this whole farming thing. It feels like we've got a lot to learn. That we learn it at the expense of animals' lives makes the lessons costly, but ultimately memorable. For example, we now know that baby cows need wormer; and that ducks have a much better survival rate when you've got a mean ol' African Grey goose around to defend them. And I have a feeling we'll be learning a better way to build a chicken run really soon. So. Now we get to begin rebuilding our flock. We wanted to sort of mix the flock up a bit, and bring in some different breeds, we just intended to eat the chickens we culled out. And maybe take our time with it. For better or worse, the job was done for us. So, once we fix up the chicken run, it's time to start buying some new chicks. Fortunately the Mennonite Animal Market in Delano is at the end of this month. Something to look forward to!

spring fever

(which is, hands down, waaaay better than cat scratch fever. Just so you know.)

So tomorrow, I'll be dropping the girls off with Grammy and Grandpa, and Davey is going backpacking, which means that for a solid 24 hours, I'll be alone. I'm a little giddy.. hell, I'm downright drunk and slaphappy with the notion of doing pretty much whatever I want, with noone to answer to but myself. Unfortunately, this will probably go down about the same as when I knew that I had a chunk of spending cash coming for my birthday, and by the time I actually got my grubby paws on the money, I had it spent 14 different ways in my head, and deciding which way to spend it in reality was quite another matter. I ended up piddling it away and never really accomplishing much of anything. And these 24 hours are so much more precious than cash. I could go shopping (oooooh! the grocery store! the craft store! heck, every craft store in town!) and not have to worry about changing diapers, nap times, feeding times, grumpy kiddos and grabby hands. Not to mention lugging kids from one car seat, stroller, cart, etc to the next. I could go to the park and pass out on a blanket and get a righteous sunburn. I could spend the evening in the bathtub with a bottle of wine and a good book. I could go out with friends and enjoy some grownup girl time. I could stay up ALL NIGHT. Because I WANT to. Not because I've got a sick kiddo to look after. I could sleep in til 8. Wait, scratch that. I do that already :). I could finally get the curtains and cribskirt and throw pillow made for Maezie's room (and the living room, for that matter). I could finally clean out the utility room. I could accomplish any number of cute crafty things I've been wanting to do. I could work on the garden. I could scoop out the chicken coop (which, frankly, really NEEDS to happen). And I'll probably start every single one of these things and finish none of them. Or if I get them done, they wouldn't be done well. I don't think I have ADD, I think I'm just greedy.

Sooooo. Deep breath, slow down. I'm going to try my darndest to enjoy my 24 hours, and maybe even accomplish a few things. At the very least I'm going to get my shopping done, go to the craft store(s), and get me a Starbucks, and savor every wonderful sip, with no darling little distractions. And then I'll probably go home and cry myself to sleep, because seriously, who couldn't miss this?

And this?

and this?!?!

It's gonna be tough. But somehow I'll survive it.

(and right this moment I am thoroughly pissed at my camera, because there's this super cute picture I took yesterday of Punkin playing outside in the flowers, but I can't get ANY of my camera batteries to work so that I can upload it. Grrrrr. Maybe later.)

eggs everywhere

this picture does not begin to portray the number of eggs we have around here lately. I have at least 3 of these baskets full of eggs. it's ridiculous.

The egg situation has really been getting out of hand here lately, and since I've been feeling a little more energetic the last few days (thank God for that!) I decided I better try to use up some of the ridiculous egg surplus we've got going on. (I'm also trying to get a mini-CSA in the works, so if anybody wants some eggs delivered to K-town, let me know.) Last night I made my first quiche, and it turned out pretty dang good. So good, in fact, that I thought I'd even share the recipe. I use the term 'recipe' loosely, since I don't tend to measure accurately, if at all. This will fill one regular 9-inch pie pan (I'd double the recipe for more than 4 adults). I'm not fancy enough to own one of those pretty quiche pans with the scalloped edges.. ah.. maybe one day...

Spinach, Bacon, and Feta Quiche -

Crust: 1 1/4 cups flour

1/3 cup shortening

1/4 tsp salt

1 or 2 tbsp water (if the dough seems dry)

combine with a fork or pastry blender until it resembles a coarse meal. If the dough is too short (feels too greasy) add some more flour, but just a little at a time. You can always add, but you can't take away! If you want it to look nice and pretty, you could roll the dough out on a floured surface, but I'm lazy, so I just pressed the dough into the pan. It still tastes good. Coincidentally, this is the same crust I use for pies, just cut in half. Sort of. Again, I don't measure very well.

Filling:

6 eggs

1/4 cup milk

1/2 block feta cheese, grated

1/4 cup green onion

3/4 cup bacon (about 4-5 pieces) fried til crispy, chopped into bits

1 tsp basil or other spice

2 cloves garlic, crushed

salt and pepper to taste

fresh or frozen spinach leaves

1 tbsp minced cherry peppers, just to spice things up. Any kind of pepper would work.

Beat the eggs, add milk, cheese, onions, garlic, bacon, basil, peppers and s & p, mix well. If you are using frozen spinach, drain it, and add to the eggs. I used fresh spinach, so I just put it straight into the pie pan and poured the egg mixture on top. Bake at 375 degrees for about an hour, or until it puffs up all nice and pretty and no liquid runs out when you cut it (inserting a knife and having it come out clean does NOT mean that it's done. Learned that the hard way.)

It might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but it was YUMMY!

And, voila! Dinner is done, and it's yummy, and it used half a dozen eggs. Score!

It was so good that I'm making another one tonight to share with the grandparents. Also I love the fact that there are so many variations to this.. you can pretty much add anything you want in the way of fresh veggies. And it uses at least six eggs. Did I mention that part? I also discovered last night that if you add nine whipped eggwhites to a regular cake mix, it will come out super fluffy and moist. I also learned that I don't know jack about making custards (I was trying to find a use for 9 egg yolks). I'm not even entirely sure I like custard. I may need to start making massive quantities of homemade noodles or something. That makes me so sad (not really).

little lumpy dumdums

Some parents have the unfortunate luck of getting kids who are obsessed with Thomas the Train, or Dora, or -heaven forbid!- Barney. But my girls, kinda by accident, love the Muppets. Their Daddy is so proud! And I can actually pretty well tolerate watching The Muppet Movie and Muppets Take Manhattan, so I count myself lucky. Even Miss Piggy is better than that stupid purple dinosaur (oh, and so much for my high and mighty, not-going-to-let-my-kids-watch-tv principles, also).

Still, even The Rainbow Connection can wear on the nerves after a while, so I introduced Punkin to the magic that is Babes in Toyland. Ding ding ding! We have a winner.

Anyway. All of this was to sort-of justify my blog title for the day and to make the point that I've seen the Muppet movies waaaaaay too much.

On to the real news: Lump update. I have cat scratch fever. Great. I'm a Ted Nugent song. That alone makes obvious the need for an antibiotic. So they gave me this massive, killer, one-shot dose that is drunk all at once and then slow-releases in my system over 5 days, killing the crap outta some bacteria and making me feel like crap in the process. Hoo-ray. It will still probably take about 3 weeks for the lump in my arm to go away, but it should start to calm down soon. That'll be nice. I'll be quite glad when this whole thing is over. And I'm quite glad to know that it's nothing more serious. Davey can stop freaking out now. At least about that.

Coincidentally (providentially?) during the Great Lump Ordeal, they've decided that there is most likely a problem with my thyroid. That would explain the extreme exhaustion I've had lately, among other things, and (most importantly, in my mind anyway) the 10+ pounds I've frikkin' gained while breastfeeding. So I'm waiting for the test results, but they said that my thyroid gland felt large, and when I googled hypothyroidism when I got home Monday, I read about post-partum hypothyroidism. Yeah. I can pretty much check off every single symptom on the list. So I really feel right now like I'm just waiting on confirmation. Fortunately it's very treatable, and most likely temporary.

In happier news, it's SPRING!!!!! Everything is green and growing again, and all the little seeds we planted are popping up in the garden and starting to grow (I can't wait for the peas.. I love fresh peas!), we got some more chickees from the co-op (Blue egg layers again. So fun.) and the weather is warm enough to go camping! We've got a trip planned in a few weeks, the same weekend that Davey is taking me to see Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Bijou in Knoxville. I've never seen them live, but they're one of my all-time favorite bands, so I'm pretty excited about this. Plus, grown-up time! And, I'm pretty sure I can finagle a trip to Mast General Store while we're downtown. It'll be a lovely time. Maybe I'll even be able to stay awake for it!

the only thing we have to fear

I should be more scared than I am, I think. Others would be. The poor hubby most certainly is.

Lemme explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Buttercup is going to .. wait. That's not it.

Ok- seriously this time:

Last week I found a lump on my arm. A big, gnarly, painful lump. A little bit of internet searching showed it to be a lymph node (who knew there were lymph nodes in the elbow?). A little more searching led me to think I might have an infection maybe, but surely it was no big deal. Right?

I felt exhausted and flu-ish all weekend, and then Monday so tired that I just didn't even want to get out of bed. So I decided it was time to go to the doctor. Got an initial round of bloodwork (which didn't show anything useful), some looks of concern, and an antibiotic, just in case. And an appointment to go back in 2 weeks, sooner if the lump got any bigger or things appeared to be getting worse.

Back to today. The lump is bigger. It hurts like the dickens. I'm tired all the time (some of that could be the antibiotic, though). I'm giving the antibiotic 1 more day to start working (and the lump one more day to stop growing) and then, I'm calling the Dr. again. Maybe it's just the wrong antibiotic for the potential infection that I have. Maybe it's not an infection after all. This is what has been on my mind all week. There are no answers yet, and there probably won't be for at least another week. Maybe longer. Because the biggest rub is this: we don't have medical insurance. Part of the "leap of faith" we took when I quit my job was to go without insurance for a while, and trust that God was going to get us through, somehow, until we could afford the insurance offered at Davey's job. Naturally it has already occurred to me that if I'm really sick, no insurance company is going to touch me if they can help it. So tests are expensive, and have to be paid for out of pocket.

(and let me just back up and say this: God has been so incredibly faithful. Everything we need and so much more has been provided, sometimes in the most unexpected, beautiful ways. That's part of the fun of living on faith. God gets to do stuff way cooler than we ever could do on our own.)

I should really be scared right now, I think. I am, just a little. But two thoughts keep coming back to me. That God will take care of us, and that if this is more than just an infection, I am strong enough to fight it. Maybe not to win, but to at least give it one hell of a bloody nose. Should that be so comforting? I don't know, but it is.

I am also reminded every single day what an amazing gifts I've been given. Being able to stay home with my girls, for one. The last four months have been supersweet, and I wouldn't trade them for anything. I've got the greatest husband a girl could ever hope for, and I'm constantly being given the opportunity to fall in love with him a little bit more. Every day we share an amazing adventure. I live in the most beautiful place (methheads next door aside. I just don't look that direction), surrounded by mountains and forest and the beauty of creation (not to mention all the fun farm animals we've been collecting).

This past week, in spite of everything, I feel more connected to it all. So if nothing more comes of this than that, well, cool.

I feel a certain determination not to let this ... whatever it is, slow me down. In fact, it's becoming something of a motivator. Not much of one, because I'm still pretty exhausted every day, but still. This past weekend we started our vegetable garden (Davey did most of the real work while I "supervised"). Yesterday I started working out again. Nothing strenuous, but just enough to be able to say that I did it (And yes, sadly, I'm sore from it today. I haven't really worked out in 2 years!). I even got some laundry done today. Seriously, that last accomplishment is more impressive than you know.

Maybe I'm a little more scared than I'm willing to admit. It does feel good to get all this out of my head. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and the antibiotic will have kicked in and the lump will be smaller and all will be right in my little speck of the world. I hope so. But if you think about it, say a prayer for me, and especially for the poor, freaking-out hubby.

And since I don't like to be bringing people down - here's some adorableness to brighten things up:

Dang, I've got some cute kids.

just a little update

Holy where has the time gone, Batman! It's been forever since I posted anything! Well, maybe not really forever, but a good solid couple of months. Maezie turns 3 months old in a few days, Punkin's FIFTEEN freakin' months old, and I'm 3 months into being a stay at home mommy of 2. It's been crazy busy, but I am LOVING it. For realz.

It's still a wee bit hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that I don't have to go to work. Sometimes I start to get stressed out because I didn't get all the dishes washed, and then I realize - but wait, I'll be home tomorrow, too. I have time. I can't even begin to tell you how crazy that is.

Maezie is just about the cutest little thing in town. Her cheeks are unstoppable. Seriously. See for yourself:

Plus, she just looks awesome in a Santa suit!

I have found it immensely enjoyable discovering just how different she is from her older sister (except for their sleeping habits. My little champ started sleeping thru the night at about 6 weeks, just like her sissy!). For starters, she loves to be on her tummy. She will NOT sleep on her back - Forget it. Won't happen- whereas Punkin hated being on her stomach. It's cool with me though, Maezie won't have a bald spot or "flat head". Punkin had no time for toys until she was about 9 months old. She didn't play with things at all. She just wanted to be looking at everything. Maezie, on the other hand, loves toys. She's already reaching for things and playing with stuff. So cute. She has also started rolling over already. She actually started a few weeks ago. I couldn't believe it. She's an over-achiever or something. I wouldn't call her an introvert, but she's maybe not quite the social butterfly her sister is. I'm okay with that. I can't wait to see what she becomes, and how her personality unfolds. Also - I'm pretty sure that she's going to have some shade of red hair (score!). Her eyelashes are the prettiest red-gold, and girl's freakin' PASTY. Thanks for that, Uncle John!

Punkin just won't stop growing. It's driving me nuts. She got her first haircut a week or two ago - but only because she got this massive dreadlock right in front of her face and I could not get it out. I wanted to cry. But the bangs look pretty darn cute, and my girl can rock some pigtails like nobodies business. She has also started giving kisses and hugs. I swoon a little when I think about it. She's not talking yet except to say "DOH!" (no) at the kitten when she does something she's not supposed to. She even holds up a little imperious finger and shakes her head as she says it. Yep, that's right. My daughter's first actual word that she uses with regularity and in the proper context is "no". This does not bode well for the future.

She's also excellent with her non-verbal communication skills (been listening to Davey's workspeak too long, I'm picking up phrases like "non-verbal communication skills"!). She can get just about anything she needs to across with that pointy little finger and a few head shakes. Still, I can't wait til she starts talking for real. Here she is looking totally adorable helping Mommy and Daddy decorate the Christmas tree:

This was pre-haircut, of course. I don't have a picture of her pigtails uploaded yet. I'm not sure the internet can handle the cuteness. It might implode.

Speaking of cuteness - Punkin and I made valentines today for her daddy and her grammy and papaw. She hasn't quite got the hang of the whole crayon thing yet (although she has now decided that they are not for eating), but she did manage to make a few little scribbles that the recipients seem to think were the most elegant caligraphy they've ever seen. No, she's not spoiled or anything. Daddy got both girls a rose and some candy (he still hasn't figured out the age-appropriate gift thing). So sweet. We had a great semi-romantic dinner (only semi because I was feeding Punkin in the highchair and Maezie was squalling because no one would hold her all the time) of steak and shark. (Which oddly enough reminds me of a fishy porkchop. It was interesting.) I use parintheses too much. (seriously)

I'm going to try to do better about posting. Really I am. I mean, I should have the time now, right? Plus, I really want to have some sort of a record of these precious days with my girls. I can't even begin to say how thankful I am to be able to stay home with them. It's been the most amazing couple of months. God has provided for us, and then some. It's a really awesome thing.