Waiting for hay man!

Another wagon load of green, fresh, yummy hay is coming today! And the ding bats are lined up at the gate already! They’re whispering back and forth to each other…just like fans lined up behind the gold rope next to the red carpet, excitedly waiting for their favorite movie star to pull up and waltz past them!

Three llamas, one alpaca, a naughty donkey, a comatose mini-horse, and an overweight ‘doesn’t-need-any’ more-food-ever potbelly pig will all stand there and wait for Charles the hay man to drive up the driveway, get out and walk past them to the barn to see which gate he should go in with the truck load of gold! They’ll swoon and, as always, one will surely faint from the sight of they’re favorite non family human who brings them the best hay with a touch of alfalfa for them and only them.

Perhaps Charles will give out autographs to his adoring fans!!

Cupcake race!

Ah baby showers. A place where the old and young gather to touch a protruding tummy, and Ooooooo over the lucky mama to be. It’s also a place where everyone eyes that last cupcake on the counter.

Well, I wanted that last cupcake, I wanted it real bad. I just didn’t want to jump up and grab the sugar mound of frosting, so I talked my niece Tami Gilpin into getting the treat that was calling my name! She kinda grumbled about it, but I promised to let her feed Remi and chase Dunkay. Well that perked her up and she got up to get dear old auntie a cupcake!

I noticed as she was weaving through the tiny aisles of seats crammed with ladies excitedly telling each other stories about “how they labored for 6 weeks just to give birth to an 18 pound baby boy that was teething already” when I noticed a cute little grandma with a pink flowered cane, making her way to the one and only, final, soon-to-be-gone cupcake with MY name on it! I pssssst’d as loud as I could to get Tami’s attention without having every horror story of the worst birth ever known to man to stop being told and all eyes turn towards me. She stopped and looked at me with a ‘huh?’ expression. I pointed to the little old lady who had picked up speed heading straight towards MY cupcake!

My loyal niece nodded and started a little jog towards the counter. The cute little granny, wise in her years of cupcake grabbing experience, picked up the speed. Woo hoo! A race! I elbowed everyone beside me and asked if anyone wanted to take bets on who was going to get that cupcake?! We all piled our money on the table with a slip of paper inked with odds!

It was exciting as we sat on the edge of our seats watching the young whippersnapper and the elderly lady with the pink flowered cane careen toward cupcake paradise. I couldn’t help myself so I started to announce the race…”Here they come ladies and ladies, Tami the Wind and Miss Galloping Granny. Tami is coming up fast, turning past the table of gossip…Granny is going straight up the aisle swinging her cane back and forth, warning folks not to push their chair in front of her, ignoring the story’s of birth horror. Oh no…a child is standing in front of Tami the Wind and refuses to move! Jump, Tami, Jump…get MY cupcake!!!

Ahhhhhh, my girl jagged left past the now screaming toddler and is ahead of Galloping Granny!

Well…you get the story.

My niece got the cupcake! And, the elderly lady? Turns out they had another full tray behind the counter that they brought out and she got two. Turns out Granny truly did know best on how to run the Cupcake race at Baby Shower Racetrack!

Baby shower race!

Ah baby showers. A place where the old and young gather to touch a protruding tummy, and Ooooooo over the lucky mama to be. It’s also a place where everyone eyes that last cupcake on the counter.

Well, I wanted that last cupcake, I wanted it real bad. I just didn’t want to jump up and grab the sugar mound of frosting, so I talked my niece Tami Gilpin into getting the treat that was calling my name! She kinda grumbled about it, but I promised to let her feed Remi and chase Dunkay. Well that perked her up and she got up to get dear old auntie a cupcake!

I noticed as she was weaving through the tiny aisles of seats crammed with ladies excitedly telling each other stories about “how they labored for 6 weeks just to give birth to an 18 pound baby boy that was teething already” when I noticed a cute little grandma with a pink flowered cane, making her way to the one and only, final, soon-to-be-gone cupcake with MY name on it! I pssssst’d as loud as I could to get Tami’s attention without having every horror story of the worst birth ever known to man to stop being told and all eyes turn towards me. She stopped and looked at me with a ‘huh?’ expression. I pointed to the little old lady who had picked up speed heading straight towards MY cupcake!

My loyal niece nodded and started a little jog towards the counter. The cute little granny, wise in her years of cupcake grabbing experience, picked up the speed. Woo hoo! A race! I elbowed everyone beside me and asked if anyone wanted to take bets on who was going to get that cupcake?! We all piled our money on the table with a slip of paper inked with odds!

It was exciting as we sat on the edge of our seats watching the young whippersnapper and the elderly lady with the pink flowered cane careen toward cupcake paradise. I couldn’t help myself so I started to announce the race…”Here they come ladies and ladies, Tami the Wind and Miss Galloping Granny. Tami is coming up fast, turning past the table of gossip…Granny is going straight up the aisle swinging her cane back and forth, warning folks not to push their chair in front of her, ignoring the story’s of birth horror. Oh no…a child is standing in front of Tami the Wind and refuses to move! Jump, Tami, Jump…get MY cupcake!!!

Ahhhhhh, my girl jagged left past the now screaming toddler and is ahead of Galloping Granny!

Well…you get the story.

My niece got the cupcake! And, the elderly lady? Turns out they had another full tray behind the counter that they brought out and she got two. Turns out Granny truly did know best on how to run the Cupcake race at Baby Shower Racetrack!

I’m interesting!

I was feeling kinda blue last night and sometimes a woman just needs to hear how beautiful, wonderful, great, needed, wanted they are from their hubby or boyfriend. So I asked Chad in one breath within 2.3 seconds…”Do you love me? Do you think I’m fat? Do I look old? Do you think I’m frumpy? Am I boring? Do I look pudgy in my clothes? Do I act old? Well?!”

He lovingly looked at me, and answered in a sweet voice, “You’re one of the most interesting women I’ve ever known.”

Interesting? What happened to beautiful? Sexy? Young and vibrant?

I replied, in a monotone voice, “Really…interesting?”

He said, “Well yeah, have you read the stuff you write?” Of course I’ve read it…I wrote it!

Apparently he thinks I’m ‘interesting’ because of my goofy stories. Oh well, at my age…I’ll take it!!!

(Full disclosure, he also says the other obligatory husband ‘beautiful’, ‘attractive’, etc remarks…to which I reply, ‘yeah, right’, ‘uh-huh’ and other whats-up-your-sleave responses.)

Fun with mother and the freezer

Fun with mother…

I took mother to Krogers today. I should know by now that the promise of ‘I just need a couple of things so it should only take a few minutes’ is never, never, never, never ever true!
Her few items that should only be a minute or three, turned out to be a basket filled to the top, taking at least an hour! An hour you say? Yes…an hour…give or take a day or two! And why does it take mother an hour to pick up a few (cough cough) items? Because she stands at the freezer with the door open and looks, searching for that boxed dinner that was taken off the market 10 years ago! She moves every box around to find what she wants or didn’t want! She stands there soooooooo long that the door fogs up (see pic) and 80% of the frozen foods are now ready to eat because they have now reached room temperature.
When mother does find that perfect instant meal in a box, it is…where? That’s right, on the very top shelf as far as it can be! And who has to practically get inside the now defrosted freezer, standing on the bottom shelf, stretching as far as she can go without tearing ligaments or becoming a permanent fixture inside the dang thing? Yep, you guessed it…ME!
And what can be worse than that? Getting the wrong box and having to do it again as mother stands behind me with encouraging words such as…”what’s taking you so long…do you see the one I want…no that’s not it…keep looking…I’m tired of standing here watching you…which one did I want again…I changed my mind, grab the tuna noodle dinner on the bottom shelf instead…why did you come out of the freezer without my dinner?”

Yep, I call my adventures with my mommy…M.M. short for Mother Marathon!

Turkey chases the Pit!

Sheesh. Sometimes I don’t know if I should laugh, cry, scream, or throw a tantrum.
I’m not sure if we’re a circus, a twilight zone show, a comedy act or what!

This my friends, is true…

I was outside getting a 50lb bag of scratch grain out of my Jeep talking to my mother on the phone when out of the corner of my eye I saw Biscuit, our big bad powerful Pit, run past the tree as fast as he could go. I kinda shook my head because I see all kinds of things around here…sometimes normal, most times not. Within 3 seconds I saw a brown feathered thing running in the same direction, past the tree. Now I’m curious…not because I want some entertainment, but because I know something is chasing something that shouldn’t be which will probably involve me in some way that I don’t want to be involved with!

I waited a few seconds squinting towards the sun to see Biscuit galloping as fast as he can back towards me with BOB a few inches behind him. The turkey doesn’t like Biscuit…it borders on hate. My guard Pit is hiding behind me. The turkey doesn’t care who the dog is taking shelter behind, he is going to get that dog or else!

Now, I have a very heavy bag of grain half in, half out of the Jeep, the phone up to my ear as my mother is talking a mile a minute about how I need to call someone for her NOW, an angry turkey, and a 95 lb dog running around and through my legs as I try not to drop the grain while agreeing with my mother about who knows what! I’m yelling at Biscuit to get away from me because BOB is trying to go between me and the Jeep to attack. My mother thinks I’m yelling at her and I’m getting super frustrated because now every bird we own is flapping towards me eyeing the yellow grain bag.

Biscuit then runs to the back door (which is open) to get away from the turkey who wants to kill him. By George, if that dang bird didn’t follow that big baby pitbull into my house! I’m like “really”?! I tell my mother who is still yapping that I’ll call her back (I still don’t know what she was talking about). I drop the yummy food on the ground which ripped a hole in the side letting it spill. I run to my back door to get BOB out of my house. I found the two of them running from the living room to the kitchen. Again, “really”?

I yell at the turkey, I yell at Biscuit…I yell because it’s all I can do at this point! The last 5 seconds before I got that dang turkey out of my house was a blur of dog, bird, feathers, chippie growling, cats meowing, a female voice having a melt down (must of been mine) and dust swirling around. I slam the door shut…I lecture BOB about not chasing the dogs who strutted away gobbling at me and shook it off…literally.

I go back to the Jeep to gather my scratch grain off the ground only to find ‘that pig’ broke out of her area and was eating the tasty yum yums along with 10 hens, 3 roosters, Gobble Gobble, the duck and a few sparrows as BOB proudly stood near by knowing he kept his flock of misfits safe.

Bitty Boy2 and a stink bug

Bitty Boy2 got to play with a stink bug tonight for the first time! He spotted the helpless critter scrambling across the carpet, put on his best mountain cat crouch, stared it down, then let loose like a lion in Africa going after the kill by leaping through the air, claws protruding from outstretched legs, a loud growling ‘meeeeooow’ escaping out of his supressed wild cat throat…landing on the tiny unsuspecting brown bug! Bitty Boy circled, swiped, batted, then sniffed which forced him to jumped back like he saw a ghost! He shook his head a few times, ran from the teeny terror and hid behind Biscuit who already had his unwanted experience with a stink bug two years ago…refusing to go anywhere near one again!
I don’t think BB2 will be chasing after anymore stink bugs for the rest of his 9 lives!!