Oh La La! Garlic Pickles!

Have I gone crazy?  These are the best pickles I've ever eaten so I bought five jars of them ... at Bernies of all places.  Bernies is our little bitty grocery store in town every thing cost more there.  I am craving pickles so much that whenever I leave home ... I wrap up a couple in a paper towel and take them with me.

Garlic Pickles.  I can't get enough of them and eat them before I got to bed at night.  I snack on them.  I love them.  I crave them.

No, I'm not pregnant.  I know that for sure ... so surely I'm turning into a Vampire or something, because I have to have gone insane to walk into Bernies and buy all the jars on the shelf and pay $25.00 for Garlic Pickles.  Von just looked at me when I lined them up on the counter top ... and he didn't utter a word, but the raised eyebrows said his every thought. He thinks I'm crazy.

They taste so good that I've kept my empty jars in the fridge to keep the juice good so I can add my own  cucumbers next year.  My plan is to freeze the pickle juice ....  but maybe I'll figure out what happened and why I need these pickles before next year comes!

A Cow Round-Up!

Whilst the boys were out chasing cows on four-wheelers with their Dad and their Uncle Don, "Miss I can't get dirty in the barn" wanted her picture taken.  She was lacking some attention while the other two sides of her triangle was chasing the cows that got out. 

Here she is ... and here's the story:

Like always, a trip to the barn is in order on our way home.  The climax of their day is to hit the barn and check out the happenings while they were gone.  You never know if a new baby has been born, or if they'll be the star of a rodeo when they get there.  Just so happens, the star of the day was a sick cow, and the boys jumped right in to help treat her. 

They were all hands on handing in the pills and syringe that housed a giant sized needle.  The pills weren't anything to ignore either.  They looked liked giant sweet-tarts and they used a medicine tube to get them in her.  The medical aspect of this farm still amazes me.  I've been a people nurse way too long and just can't grasp this end of things.

They also get to ride home with their Dad from the barn to the house ... and that is when it happened.

It was Round Up Time!  One of the pastures of cows had escaped and the boys helped round them up.  Just in the eight years I've been here, times have changed.  Von used to chase them on foot or else drive his old black pickup truck through the pasture.  These days .... it's a race on 4-wheelers and a big whooping it up because the cows don't like the noise.  If I was a cow, I definitely wouldn't want to be playing chicken with a wild man and a loud kid on a four wheeler!  Don and Jay on one ... and Von and Sam on the other. 

So I stood outside to try to get a few pictures of the round up ... and instead had a little mini shoot with the Princess!  She didn't realize it, but while she was standing there posing and complaining, she was surrounded by clumps of cow poop.  You see, we were standing in the gravel right in front of the barn gate, and if you can imagine before Photoshop .... that little brown clump by her left ear was a pretty big chunk of fresh poop!

Gonna Ride a Cow!

As always, yesterday evening we ran by the farm to visit the cows and their babies.  We have a special few that my boys ride every chance they get, and yesterday was no exception. 

It's pretty awesome to watch your little bitty four year babies ride a bucking calf.  It kinda makes your heart stick in your throat, and kind of makes you a little bit sick at your stomach.  Of course, they love it.  There is nothing like a bucking heifer in a small pen that doesn't want you on its back.

When I was growing up, I had never heard of riding a cow.  I thought you only rode horses ... but then again, I'd never lived on a cow farm, and I'd never even seen a cow up close.  I led a sheltered life I guess.  Then I moved here and found out what all I had missed in my life.

There is nothing in the world like walking through a muddy barn lot after a fresh rain.  Nothing like slopping through the run off of cow manure in your new boots!  Nope nothing like it ... just ask my boys!

I think I'll just vest my money in Rural King until these little guys grow up and pay their own way.  Four pairs of boots = $175.00.  Two happy little boys = Priceless!

My Muse

This morning .... I talked Meg into letting me take a few pictures of her.  She let me.  Totally against her will until I bribed her with HM (Hannah Montana) lip gloss in every color.  She is now smart enough to know that she is the only other female here besides me, and I desperately need her.  Not only does she tell me what she wants so that I can use and abuse her, she now tells me how many and what colors.  She has learned, and I don't like it.

We stood out in the middle of our road for that shot .... and she was totally degraded to be out there in broad daylight with only an undershirt on and a little pettiskirt.  I have to admit, I grit my teeth and smile and pretend that I like her when I'm taking her picture or else she's likely to stomp off in the house.  I think I see the writing on the wall ... my little muse is leaving me.  High and dry, and I'm so bummed.  I live one picture at a time with her .... Oh, the perils! 

Then I begged for more.  This one is going to cost me perfume ... and don't think for one minute that I can forget either.  The girl remembers and keeps a running list ... and she never forgets details.

I'll be visiting the Dollar Tree tomorrow for a bag of goodies that I can pull out when I need my muse fix.  I know that someday she'll look back on these and love them ... but for now, Hannah Montana has something more than I have. I don't have lip gloss with my picture on it in fifteen different flavors and colors ... 'sigh'.

The Bed

Okay ... this really isn't funny, but I have to tell someone about this.

Two months ago when we were deciding what to do about Meg's bed when we moved her out of the boys room ... we went bed shopping for her.  This was before we decided to use the antique bed that is a permanent fixture upstairs.

Anyway,  Von and I went to a bed store and we were looking at twin beds ... then moved on up to Queen size so she could grow into it and, well ... you know the story.  The salesman was really good.

We, meaning I ... spotted  the most awesome luxious bed I've ever seen.  The mattress was beautiful.  King size.  Plush.  Soft.  Memory foam.  Expensive.  No flip.  Exquisite.  Tall.  Almost need a ladder, and did I say very expensive.  It was way out of our budget ... plus we weren't shopping for us a bed, because we  do not need a bed, and we were on a mission for the princess.

We have a very nice comfortable Queen size pillow top that is to die for when you're really really tired.  Plus, our bed has sentimental value.  My water broke in that bed ... not only once, but twice in the night before our triplets were born.  Thus, we now have a very big and beautiful starburst stain right in the middle.  How could we possibly give that up?!

So I talked Von into laying on it ... and Von never makes a comotion in public, let alone would he EVER lay down on a bed in a busy store.  But he did.  Boots and all.  Then I laid on it.  Right beside him, and we giggled and he laughed, then he caught himself and got up before anyone saw us.

I have to admit .... I am the most compulsive person I know.  Von, on the other hand, is the most conservative person I've ever met ... and he never makes rash insane decisions, especially one that would involve a bed that is completely out of our league, especially when we don't need one.

So he wrote the check.  Only after I had him convinced that we would have so much more room.  He would never have to hang onto the edge again.  The main selling point to him was, if you can't keep them out ... make room for them.  Them, being the kids.  You see ... every single night they migrate to our bed.  We are totally unaware of it until all five of us are sweating like monkeys in a tin can from body heat and lack of room.  They've learned to get in the middle, after falling out several times, and before we gave in and put kids rails on our bed.  We really did.  .... They kick us and each other ... then they wake up fighting and we have to start all over.

So let's fast forward to now.  Last week, two months later, I had the bed delivered.  Keep in mind that I live in an old farmhouse with straight up narrow stairs.  Five years ago we had to have the bed hoisted up through a window because the queen box springs would not go up the stairs.  So, what made us think that a King deep box memory foam mattress would.  What possessed my rational husband to even remotely think that we could do this?

The bed people store sent two delivery men.  One being about 100 pounds soaking wet and the other being about 400 pounds that snorted when he breathed and whistled for lack of oxygen.  The skinny one gulped and the fat ones eyes bulged and turned red when they saw the narrow stairway.  But I had a plan.

"Hey Delivery Man ...  can you just bend that mattress a bit like a ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ and force it up those stairs ... and leave the plastic on it please, so it doesn't get dirty?"

They weren't thinking straight.  The fat man ended up on top and the little skinny guy was on bottom.  It is not supposed to work that way ... and they couldn't trade places.  The only way down for the fat man was to get the mattress to the top because he couldn't jump over it ... and he couldn't go around it.  So he tugged and pulled and tried to bend it, and he heaved and ho'ed and sweat was pouring off of him ... and I got worried.  The little skinny guy at the bottom of the stairs was pushing with all his might, and we weren't going anywhere, so I called Von to come home to try to figure out how to get the mattress unstuck from the stairwell.

Just as Von walked in and looked up at me looking over the wall .... the mattress gave, and the fat man fell back against the wall and gasped for air.  Yes, I'm a nurse ... but no way was I going to give that guy mouth to mouth if he needed it.  No way.

Now we have a new King sized bed in our room ... and it's total glory.  I'm on the hunt for the perfect comforter now ... and would you believe that the kids suddenly stopped getting in our bed at night. 

How'd we get our Queen bed down you ask ... we didn't.  We ended up giving it to Meg and did away with the antique bed in her room.  She sunk in the middle of the feather mattresses and they swallowed her up and she didn't like it.  So now, it's standing up again in the corner of her room.

As soon as I find that perfect comforter, I'll take some pictures to show you!

Over at the Farm

The other evening I stopped over at the farm on our way home so Sam could ride a cow.   He does this every chance he gets ... he thinks he's a cowboy.  Jay wouldn't do it.  It's not his cup of tea.  He has though in the past ... but not that night.  Meg?  Well, it's completely out of the question you know ... she's not getting dirty.  Not stepping in cow poop and not about to take any chances in the cow pen.

This is their Uncle Don.  I love the way the sun is shining down on them as they walk off towards the barn.  I love how pictures tell a story.