In short – It stunk. 

Allen got back from his trip and that part was wonderful. We first got the buck for his annual visit to our does. That part really did stink. To high heaven!  I always forget how badly it stinks. And how badly anyone who touches him stinks. OR how badly anyone who touches anything that touched him stinks. Bleck. Gotta be there to believe it.

Anyway, Sat afternoon Tess and the others were outside with Allen while he was putzing.  As a rule the kids are glued to him when he is home.  Tess is cruising all over these days, determined to walk. She wiped out and cut her upper lip.  So we closed up shop and ran her in for stitches with me in the backseat semi-nuts. (We have had a LOT of medical procedures over the years but remarkably few injuries)  Apparently they did not feel it was as hysteria worthy as I however since they finally stitched her some 4 hours later.

: PPPP   

So our sweet girl has tiny stitches now and a mom who has been all over google for the current protocol for scar minimization. Vit E vs no Vit E (did you know there was even controversy about that??)  Essential oils. Mederma.  If you have an opinion or experience with any of the above give us a shout.

We are still playing tag with the cow too. The general opinion is that it isn’t even about other cows now since most often she doesn’t even try to get to any. She just is ‘that sort’ per my cattlemen neighbors. Allen spent hours with them rigging up an electric fence. Verdict?  She is not impressed. Stood there pushing it til she knocked it over enough to walk past. Argh.

So it is like that.  If you were waiting for a reply from me please know I didn’t forget you.  Or maybe I did hey Karen? : /  But I will try to get on top of my box in the next couple days.

look who picked me up to go cruisin’ the neighborhood last month:

The local chicks were so jealous

The studs around here don’t drive though. <g>

Kidding aside, consider this the first installment in the  Frugal Luxuries  category. The book of collected essays, ideas, and tips by Tracey McBride is great encouragement for those trying to live well on less. In that spirit we have been trying to carve out free or nearly free fun time to reconnect as a couple. Whether it is going for a spin on the 4-wheeler or taking a bottle of cider and the books we have been reading up to our room after the kids are in bed we have found you don’t have to be wealthy, just motivated and creative. 

This really should have come after the getting out of debt post but I need to run. Stay tuned. The long and the short of it is you don’t need to be joyless while being frugal. It’s about changing the focus from entertaining oneself to engaging in life. Being proactive about fun vs being a passive audience. You can tell there is more to say here, just not the time to say it all at once. This is an awesome book to start with however. : )

I am so lucky.  Sara and I crossed paths the year before last when she became one of our first milk shareholders.  I let life speed up too much and when allergies forced them to sell their share back we lost touch.  Not one to leave a mistake uncorrected when it is in my power to correct it, I invited the three lovely ladies at Stories and Songs for lunch tomorrow.  So exciting!

Sara is a wonderful mother, faithful wife, and devoted Christian. Her blog entry today is proof positive.  Good reminder that God is faithful even when we aren’t paying attention.  Reminded me of that old Amy Grant song about all the disaster averted in our lives that we were not even aware of.

Today was Brendan’s outpatient surgery.  The week has sort of flown by in a blur. Allen had to fly to FL unexpectedly for work on Tues morning. I ran B to his pre-op appts and got the paperwork together. We had a buyer for one of the horses we are selling and, life being what it is, after waiting for a week, the brand inspector decided he could come out yesterday. This translated into rushing back home from appts to meet him, the buyer hustling to locate a trailer and driver, and the horse finally going at 7:30pm. 

I scooted B into the tub soon after that.  Got him to bed hydrated, per instructions, and got clothes laid out for the babies. Allen rolled in around midnight from the last flight of the night. We slept for about 4 hrs and then started the dressing, loading, driving, registering routine.  B was game for the whole thing, if a little leery of the strangers’ poking and measuring. He was taken into surgery without much fanfare and returned an hr later sober, but otherwise unscathed. Popsicles made a good peace offering from the nurses. A slice of pizza while waiting for his post-op meds to fill further improved his mood and he is currently in jolly good humor.

All in all, the morning went well.  We had to laugh at ourselves, sitting in his room, Allen in his suit and tie, pouring over the Country Living magazine and discussing our long term farming plans. Groggy and coffee’d up, we sketched out a scheme for the ranch entry sign. We debated the pro’s and con’s of home computing and net use ( I love this machine. I hate this machine). We caught up on kid issues and scheduled hay pick up. It’s ironic to be having these discussions like this but such is life at this moment – one foot in each of two very different worlds. I look forward to the day we can jump headlong.

One fruit borne from our conversations was strictly limiting screen time. I soooo do not want to have a virtual life.  Likewise, I don’t want my children to remember their mother’s face aglow from the reflection of a neon screen.  If you email me it may take me a smidge longer to reply. (Better yet, send me snail mail.I am all about real letters written with real hands that can be tucked into purses or books and revisited fondly at a later date.)  Bear with me.    You would have a hard time tearing yourself away from a face like this little man’s too. : )  Speaking of which I think both he and I could use a warm blanket and a cozy chair right now so I better sign off.  Thank you for your prayers.  He came through swimmingly.

Whew – coming up for a breather here.  We finally have everyone’s bedrooms moved to best fit the number and ages of children at home. This monumental job has unearthed a tremendous volume of worn out  and outgrown clothing, wrappers, papers, games with missing pieces and general junk. My own closet was just as bad and when it was all said and done FIVE garbage bags of old clothes were trucking on down to Goodwill. I didnt actually wear all those clothes but I do feel guilty tossing freebies.  Still, most of it didn’t fit well nor look good and I feel much more than 5 bags ‘lighter’ with the newfound space. I don’t know why I felt the need to hold onto this so long.

Mrs. Catherine has a blogpost today that made me think about all the ways we weigh ourselves down.  We have talked many times, friends and I, about burdens. Lots of things bear down upon us even when we think we are being very careful.  Like with our closets it is hard to know what is worth keeping and what should go. She suggests using your heart as your guide. If your heart is truly not in it, don’t do it:

I have found
> that when I have had to "force" something it never
> turns out good and that there are reasons for my
> feeling that way.  Quite simply…it means that I
> should not be doing it! 

Nope. Never.

While she felt good about the initial decisions she mentions the fear that goes along with them, namely, what will people think?  Because they do you know.  Think, that is.  We all think far too much about what everyone else is doing when it really has so little bearing on our own lives. It is hard enough to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit guiding us towards the things that ‘we’ should be doing. I am sure we cannot hear what He is saying to anyone else.

I hope she finds the peace she seeks. I hope to see my studio/schoolroom boxed and labeled. : )  I hope to have a loooong bubble bath this weekend and think happy thoughts.

This is what Elsie Flanigan dubbed her blog. Aptly so. Her scrap style is very artjournal-esque: lots of doodles, notes, color. Its messy but addictive. That is how I explain the amount of time I have spent pouring over the pages. I have a lot of pics to scrap. I have no printer at the moment. You have no idea how the idea of hand journaling stresses me out.

Looking at Elsie’s reminds me to consider this a rare opportunity. Many of the pages featured in the early scrap magazines (and the early albums on my shelves…) now look dated and cute with a K. They suffer from bulletin board syndrome. : /  These art journals draw me in and make a person WANT to look at someone’s snapshots. I am a bit of a visual control freak though. Gotta admit I still miss my printer. But my daughter just asked a question I can’t resist…. "What are you going to make Mom?"  I don’t know.  Something. With her.

It has been one of those days where most of my waking hours were spent glued to the van seat. We were out very late last night running kids around and doing late night grocery shopping.  I woke up the sun this morning so I could get Brendan to the eye doctor. For most of his young life he has struggled with ‘gunky’ eyes on and off. The verdict is that he has a partial tear duct obstruction and it is going to need surgery. That part wigs me out a bit, but just a bit. We are very familiar with surgery by now. Inpatient, outpatient, you name it and Colin has probably had it. While there is always a risk with general anesthesia I tend to feel confident that God has it all in hand and the hospital environment isn’t too terribly off-putting – even if there are those dang flashbacks to deal with. : /

What is hard on a personal level is the reality that this relatively minor fifteen minute procedure will require not only today’s consultation but also a visit to the primary care Dr to declare him well enough for surgery, a pre-op visit with the eye Dr to confirm that the primary care Dr has correctly declared him well enough for surgery, a trip to the pharmacy for eye drops to be begun before the procedure, a reworking of our milk share pickup for that day, childcare arrangements at home, and likely a pre-registration at the hospital.  Agh. Funny how your schedule can vanish before your very eyes isn’t it?  Good thing I wasn’t too wedded to it. Still the whole prospect is less than appealing. Way less.

Keep B in prayer if you would.  We will keep y’all posted.

"Nowadays, people are so jeezled up.  If they took some chamomile tea and spent more time rocking on the porch in the evening listening to the liquid song of the hermit thrush they might enjoy life more."

–The Private World of Tasha Tudor

Pardon my tardy photo blogging. We are without a camera at the moment so we are using Colin’s.  However Colin cannot find the cord to said camera so we have to jump through a number of hoops (which involve dh taking the camera to another computer blah blah blah) to upload pics and half the time they still aren’t clear. I soooooo wish Santa would bring me a digital SLR, even if one of my children knocked my last camera off the counter….

Anyway, a highlight of the summer was the Pike’s Peak Marathon. The idea is you run 13 miles to the top of the mountain then run 13 more back down. You may wonder what would possess a person to do this?  Allen would say, because he can. : )  It is indeed good to be alive.