It's Snow, Yo!

Ah...  Snowmageddon.  The Snowpocalypse.  A dastardly Snowtastrophe. 

Again.

'Tis the third big snow we've had this winter'go'round, and I'm so over it.   Like I've said before, we Arkansans don't handle this weather well.  The prospect of a few good inches, and it sends us all up in a tizzy.  Schools cancel hours before the first snowflake hits, and folks get all kinds of ghetto on eachother in the bread aisle at WalMart.  It's hardcore, y'all.

And once again, I'm forced to strap on plastic bags to the feet of the offspring, because while we are most certainly outfitted in all manner of make and model of flip-flop, we ain't got no snow boots up in this hood.



Oh...you thought I was kidding?  Oh, no, friend.  And we're even classy enough to support all major discount chains.  Dollar Tree and Walmart are both proudly repruhzentin'. 

Here are some other obligatory snow shots.  They pretty much look like the ones from last time, but I never really get tired of staring at rosy snowflaked cheeks wearing Walmart sacks for footwear.....  

And then I had to go and open my big mouth....

In an attempt to poke fun of the husband who is still rendered pretty much helpless, I made a snide comment about how if he were a "good dad," then he'd rig up something-or-other to pull the darling angel babies around in the snow...you know, redneck sled style.  Because we don't own sleds in the South either....

My sarcasm was beat down like a whipped horse.

Because before you can say, "Don't eat the yellow snow!" -- the husband was crutching his way to the garage to rig up a sled contraption to the Razor.  Seriously, Dude?  Point taken.  I will never question your ability to redneck rig something ever again...bum leg or not.

And then I found out who had to drive the dern thing.  In the cold.  I don't like to be cold.  Or wet.  Or cold and wet.

So I took it upon myself to come up with the sexiest get-up I could find.....

Hawt, huh? 

And here I am behind the wheel of power....

And here are my victims...uh, I mean...passengers.....

Oh...you only see two?  The other one is there....see his legs hanging off of the back?  That seemed to be the choice spot.  Although I don't know why, what with all the snow ending up in your draw's' and all.  Brrr...

Did I mention it was cold?  Even with that facemask thing on, I was about to lose my upper lip to frost bite.  Plus the face mask belongs to the husband's hunting season, and it smells like feet.  Not that the husband smells like feet...I'm just sayin'....

I tooled around our yard and hayfield for a good little bit, pulling boys, making sharp turns so that boys went flying, and driving slow watching boys running their Walmart sacked feet through the snow drifts trying to catch back up to the sled.  And then I parked and went inside.  Because fun is only fun until Mama gets cold.

The husband crutched out and took some video and picts of the fun, and this is my favorite one:

Because I had just left two kids faceplanted on the driveway....  Snort.Giggle.

And then here is a little video.  If you choose to watch it, you'll see the good clean fun of me leaving the Tater Tot in the dust.  Again, Snort.Giggle.

So, was the snow horrid?  No.

Was it fun?  Uh...sure.

Am I ready for Spring?  Ab.so.lute.ly.

Have I loved hanging with my men?  Snow-Doubt.

Betcha Didn't Know: The 'Lord Have Mercy' Edition

Lord Have Mercy.  Lord Love a Duck.  And Shut the Window and Call Me Edgar. 

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That the husband has been home for approximately 288 hours. Give or take a trip to the hospital or two.  But I was still husband-sitting, so it totally counts.  288 hours.  That's a whole lot of man-tv watching and iced tea fetching. 

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That though I'm madly in love with the husband, the old adage "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" makes perfect and complete sense to me now.  I've decided that his going to work is good for our marriage. Space and time is good for all of us. The only thing that is saving my sanity now is that he spent the last part of 2010 and the first part of 2011 traveling like a madman, so we're still finding stuff to talk about.  For right now....

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That now people are going to be all worried about us and our marriage.  Relax.  We're good.  I've been totally slapped in the face with how much I've taken for granted about the little things that he does around the house to help me, and I'm so saddened for him that his outdoorsy personality has been stuck inside.  I also have no doubt that when the time comes for us to spend copious amounts of time together such as our future empty nest and retirement that we are going to be just.fine.  As long as no one has knee surgery.... *smirky wink* 

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That I'm actually feeling very, very blessed by the timing of all of this surgery/recovery mess.  The husband's ACL surgery was actually scheduled for March.  Baseball season.  And his plans included coaching baseball from the seated comfort of a 5 gallon bucket.  Um.Okay.  But, this way, he should be good as new come season's starting, so he shouldn't be leaving crutch marks in the baseline.  ALSO...the husband is getting ready to take on a huge project that is going to take him away from home most evenings and nights.  I had been so dreading this project, because he was supposed to walk straight into the project from all the traveling he had been doing.  But now, he's been forced to stay at home and spend a.lot. of quality time with me and the kids.  Although it will still be very sour to hardly ever see him once he's recuperated and ready to start on the project, at least we know that we spent lots and lots of hours with him beforehand.

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That the husband now has a whole new respect for the art of homeschooling.  I deemed him worthy of the honor of teaching beginning algebra to the 5th grader yesterday, and he quickly awarded me with all kinds of hefty accolades.  I'll take "Thank you very much" and "I told you so" for $400, Alex.

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That the husband has decided that being an invalid might just be worth it for his stomach's sake.  We've been poured on with heavy food blessings by our precious church family, and, needless to say, we've eaten very.very.very.ridiculously.well this week. 

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That I have cabin fever something fierce.  I've started hallucinating about my laundry coming to life and eating me.  And I haven't even been sneaking the husband's pain killers.

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That the husband is going to attempt to go back to work for a few hours on Monday, and I'm not sure who is more ready..... 

Betcha Didn't Know.....

• That the husband and I are meeting our besties for lunch later today sans kids, and you would have thought that we won the lottery.  This is huge, y'all.  We're going to get dressed in real clothes and everything.

Betcha Didn't Know....

• ...well, I betcha did know...that my resolution of a picture a day/blog everyday has traveled to The Island of Unresoluized Resolutions.  I've heard it has made itself quite comfortable there; saddling up right away to my other resolution of gym frequenting and healthy eating.  I'm sure they'll live happily ever after.

That's all.
Later, friends.

Watermelons

I heard on the news that 49 of 50 states have snow.  Florida is the only one wallflowering at our little white coat party.  Even Hawaii is shaking her snow thang. 

Poor Florida.

Or not.

Because, frankly, I'd be just fine if Arkansas would rest her legs and sidle up alongside Florida for a year or three. 

I consider it no small answer to prayer that the offspring have chosen to neglect the snow for the past two days, because I have had just about had enough of the slush and slop all up in my house.  And because of their hiatus, I've taken on a much better attitude regarding Old Jack Frost, mainly because I'm enjoying him from inside my warm house.  And because my floor isn't a constant mass of swirling snow puddle juice.

Considering that 49 out of 50 of you have also been slushing through the snow as of late, I'm almost positive that you have almost had your fill of the endless pictures of snowmen, snow forts, and snowball fights taking over everyone's neighborhoods.  But, too bad....you clicked over here, therefore, you must endure my barrage of family photos in the snow.  That is, unless you just X out of here, of course, which is always a possibility.  (Which is why I stealthily named this post "Watermelons" so that you wouldn't just assume right away that I was going to show snow pictures like everyone else in the Lower 48 Minus Florida Plus Hawaii Plus Alaska....Divided By Mongolia and Multiplied by Norway just for kicks.)

Getting on with it.....

SNOWMESOTIREDOFYOUMEGEDDON 2011

Holy Holding Marshmallow, Batman, that snowball is as big as his head!  (As was the cry fest that ensued after he chunked it at his BIG brother's head.)

This was taken just before he unleashed that huge snowball that he's holding in hand...while I'm saying, "No! I have my camera!" And then he did it anyway.  Hence the smirky grin.

Back Deck Snow Angels! 
(This is just as the snow was starting...we had no idea that fifty-eleven more inches would fall after that...)

I'll take Bundled Up Deliciousness for $1000, Alex.

Couldn't you just eat those freckles with a spoon?  Get in line.  I'm first.



The husband and the oldest rascal right before they tore up my yard during a mad fit of donut doin's.



Um...yes.  That would be them.  And this is the only picture I have of it, because I had to excuse myself into the house because I was going to have a panic attack about how fast he was driving that thing with my baby inside.

Look close...you can see the mismatched socks on the hands!  I have FINALLY discovered what all the lone socks are for that just live on top of my dryer. 

Alright, alright.  I'll stop. 

I guess all in all the snow wasn't that bad.  It was definitely gorgeous and gave us a great excuse to hunker down for a few days and do a whole lot of nothing.  But I will tell you that my perspective on snow has totally changed since I'm not teaching outside the home anymore.  I use to live for the morning news crawl that would announce a snow day for our school.  I would beg the weatherman to tell me that the temperature wasn't going to get high enough to melt the snow and ice off anytime soon. 

Not so much anymore.

Because homeschoolers don't get snow days.

Sheesh.  Poor kids.  Wonder who their teacher is?  Someone should have a talk with her.

 



Happy Almond Joys for Mama Day!

I think I was 8 or 9.  Maybe 10.  Whichever it was, it was the Christmas that I got my Barbi furniture.  I remember because I opened my presents prostrate on the couch with my head halfway hanging in a throw-up bucket. 

And it stunk. 

There possibly is nothing worse than being sick on a holiday.  And I'm not talking Columbus Day or Boxing Day.  I'm talking the Holy Grails of Holidays.  The Big 5.  The Fiestas of Fun.  The Big Kahunas. 

1)  Nothing worse than being sick on Christmas.  Numero Uno Worse-o.
2)  Then comes Halloween.  Costumes and candy, man, c'mon.
3)  Next is Thanksgiving.  Because then your sister gets to eat your slice of Nanny's cherry pie...not that I'm bitter or anything.
4)  Then it's Easter.  More candy.  And a bunch of eggs that your mom won't let you hunt for the sake of the other children's health.  Bah.Hum.Bug.
5)  Then to make it an even 5....Fourth of July.  Because that usually involves swimming and fireworks and hot dogs, and it just stinks to be stuck in the house in the summer.

No matter how you cut the holiday ham, being sick on those certain calendar days just stinks a whole heck of a lot more than a normal sick day.  It just does.

Ask this guy....

Mr. I'm Losing My Lunch While My Brothers Trick or Treat.....

Pitiful.

If you read yesterday's post, you know that I was going to give him until 1:00 to stop with the upchuck.  Then I was going to let him get duded up and let him stick his bucket out for a couple of Kit Kats then come back home.

1:00 came and went and we were looking like we were going to be suiting up.  Golden.

So I dragged out all the costume pieces and the make-up bag, and we got started.  Everyone was thrilled that Tate was feeling better, and I was the boys were beginning to salivate at the thought of all the candy. 

Tate was totally dressed.  Chaps were in place, boots were on, hat was fixed, holster was adjusted, and handle-bar mustache was drawn on.  He looked adorable.  Until he looked up at me with the biggest most sad eyes and said, "Mama, I just can't do it.  I can't twick or tweat."  And before I could say, "but the Kit Kats...", he was stripping off the cowboy gear and climbing back on the couch.

And I might have cried.  Because I'm pretty sure I've never seen anything so pathetic in all my life.  And I didn't even get one picture first....

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and turned my attention to the other brothers Darrel. 

And I do have to say, they looked GREAT.  I was so bummed that I wasn't going to be hanging with those characters at the festival.... 

Here's Keaton...a.k.a..Albert Einstein.  I think he looks very smarty!

And here's Sawyer....our Redneck that slipped into his character a little too easily.   My fave:  the chest hair.  Crack.Me.Up.

Kirk took the boys to the big festival downtown, and, from what I hear, they were not alone.  I think there was an insane turnout for the event which is great for our smalltown, and the boys were loaded down with candy.   Score.



The boys with a precious member of our K-Group from church.



Sawyer and his BFF Hesley :  Tuh-ruh-ble

I stayed home and snuggled with Tate on the couch...not too shabby of an evening...aside from that whole holding the throw-up bucket thing.

But, probably the best part of the whole night for all of us was when the boys brought home lots and lots of these:

Because when Mama's happy....
Everyone's happy.

Happy Halloween!!

Now....let me at that candy....

Family Matters

I spent the better part of the day at a family reunion.

I understand that I'm supposed to be focusing on the wonderfulness of multi-layered generations intertwining into a mangled mush of togetherness, but, really, these kinds of events leave me a little perplexed.

This particular reunion was for the "Edwards" clan.  Or "Edderds" as we've strangely enough nick-named ourselves.  (I haven't quite figured out why we feel the need to scrawl the word "Hillbilly" in bright black sharpie on our foreheads with such a naming, but, for reasons far beyond my realm of understanding, it's just the way things are.)  The Edwards family branches me from Jim-Dad's mom's side of the family.  My Nanny.  Sweet adorable cute-as-pie Nola Mae Edderds. 

My Nanny adored family reunions.  She was one of 5 brothers and sisters that were a closer set of siblings than I have ever witnessed in my life.  Each of the 5 had a smattering of kids and so on....so the Edderdses have grown to a somewhat scary multiplication of numbers.  (I'm just glad I'm in the family...because I'm pretty sure that they will take over the world one day...and all you non-Edwards will be out.of.luck.)

Because Nanny loved family reunions so much is why I think that I'm left with mixed feelings about such an event.  As the designated mother-figure of the entire clan, my Nanny loved nothing more than gathering her huge nest of chicks together.  She knew every.single.detail. about every.single.member. of our extended family....I know...because she told me every.single.detail. about every.single.member. of our extended family.  She just loved the fellowship and the togetherness of it all. 

And I haven't been to a family reunion since she went home to dance with Jesus.

And it makes me kind of sad.

Because, honestly, I don't really want to be at one without her.

Oh...I understand the importance of continuing on our legacy and that our generation has a great responsibility to handle such amazing tradition of a family that truly exemplified the meaning of the word. 

But it just stinks.

Because Nanny is not there for me to sidle up to and ask who someone is.  She's not there to fill me in on the latest gossip information regarding my 3rd cousin twice-removed's second wife's brother.  I don't get to hear her call all 5,398 Edwardses by name...first, middle, and last.  And I don't get to see the sheer joy that would envelope her face just at the mention of getting to see her family.

So....was the family reunion fun?  No.  Not really.  But not because the people aren't fun.  And not because the food wasn't amazing.  And not because the weather wasn't absolutely perfect for the day. 

No...it wasn't really fun today because Nanny wasn't there.

Here's my Nanny and I in 2004.  That's a 2 year old carrot-topped Sawyer holding her hand.  We were at a funeral when this picture was taken.  It didn't matter to Nanny though.  Funeral or not...it still meant her family was together.

Here's two of my most favorite ladies.  My mama and my Nanny.  Aren't they gorgeous?

Seriously...my new favorite picture of my Nanny.  That's her on the left in the blue shirt.  She's with her brother, Herb, and her sister, Ethel.  Gosh, how she loved them.  What they have on their heads, I have no idea...but I think they are cute as can be.

Sure wish they all could have been there today.......

100 Years Fabulous....

100 years is a long time.  A really long time.

Airplanes have flown.  Men have walked on the moon.  People live in Cyberspace. 

So much has changed with our world in 100 years.  And I can't imagine watching our world go from none of that to all of that in my lifetime.

100 years.  A century.

And my Aunt Fay has seen the whole thing. 

This weekend a host of family and friends came together to celebrate the woman that has outlived, out-seen, and outlasted all of the rest of us in the family. 

100 years.  I keep saying it over and over because I still can't hardly believe it. 

My Aunt Fay is my grandfather's sister on my mother's side.  She never had children of her own, but she was a second mother and grandmother to so many of us.  I can remember spending long summer days at her farm house getting in her way helping her garden and can and cook.  She always wore an apron.  And she had this crazy ceramic wiener dog that sat in front of her cabinet television.  She loved to give us fun gifts at Christmas like toothpaste and denture cream (no joke), and you couldn't go see her at her house or her room at the nursing home without her sending you home with something or other. 

100 years.

Wow.

She informed everyone at her party this weekend that she "wasn't having a party."  She was "just visitin'."  Because she "didn't want a fuss."  Yes, Ma'am, Aunt Fay.  Yes, Ma'am.

But we partied anyway.

Isn't she the most precious thing you've ever seen? 

Here's Aunt Fay with her Great Nieces and Nephews (minus a few)

Here's Aunt Fay with her Great Great Nieces and Nephews (minus a few)

plus a man in a yellow hat that none of us know, but somehow found his way in our pictures.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Fay!

August 12, 1910 -

Turning Ten....

One of my most favorite people turned 10 yesterday.

10.  Oy.  That just makes my mama's heart ache all over.  Sounds so cliche but it really does seem just like yesterday when the husband and I were stumbling through the waters of new parenthood together.  Crazy how time flies.

Enough of the Hallmark sentiment....

Let's get on with the agenda for the day:

1)  Revenue Office.  It is possible that I have been driving around for a month with expired car tags, but if you ask me about it I will deny it.  I will tell you that the only reason that I stopped in the Revenue Office yesterday morning was to visit with the ever-so-friendly ladies that work in there.

2)  Collected a gaggle of peeps to come with us.  Praise Florida, I had reinforcements.  I am forever indebted to Jen for taking on that crazy crew with me.  Oy.

3)  Chic-Fil-A.  Where I was "My pleasure"-ed twice.  Love it.

4)  Tour of Various Parking Lots and Parking Garages in the Downtown Little Rock Area.  Where we realized that the real entertainment for the children was in a parking garage.  Why did I even plan anything else for the day?

5)  Museum of Discovery.  For the love of our now 10 year old science nerd. 

Inside Alice and Wonderland's hall of doors. 

I'm sure they're learning something smarty here.  Just looked like a fancy version of air hockey to me.

Again...I'm sure it's smarty and that they learned some great piece of physics.  Just looked like a carnival game to me. 

Keaton did trap Ms. Jennifer in the dentist chair though.  That's always good clean fun.

After exhausting every exhibit of its funness, we raided the gift shop.  And we walked away with the most expensive crap some fabulous souvenirs.

6)  4Square.  Where I consumed the most delicious fragment of milkshake heaven I've ever indulged in.  Where I also forgot to take pictures, because I was experiencing Mint Chocolate Chip nirvana.

7)  Back to the Parking Garage.  Squeal.

8)  Shopping.  For the maintenance of sanity for the adults trapped in the moving vehicle with the little people.  At least that was the plan.  Turns out that the shopping with the little people was the source of my still-hanging-on-Alaskan-sized headache. 

9)  The depositing of the gaggle of gigglers back to their respective homeplaces. 

10)  Home.  Phew.

11)  Birthday Dinner.  Keaton had requested rabbit, deer meat, and mashed potatoes for his special supper, and his father gladly obliged.  Me?  I just ate the taters.  I don't do Bugs Bunny or Bambi.  At least we had homemade ice cream for dessert.  Now that I can handle.

Um...yum? 

12)  Keaton's big present is coming on a slow-boat from China.  Literally.  We ordered his new iPod Touch a couple of days ago, and it is taking it's precious time to make it's way over the Pacific Ocean.  We felt bad that he didn't have anything to open on his birthday, so the husband hooked him up with this...

Keaton was so excited that it was being released on his birthday, so he was beyond ecstatic when he opened up last night.  I love little surprises like that!

13)  A family viewing of Diary of a Wimpy Kid.  It was a cute movie.  What was cuter was listening to Keaton giggle throughout the whole thing. 

14)  Bed.  Falling into -- to be more specific. 

Despite my headache and the keeping up with the masses, it was a really fun day.  It was great to celebrate a really great kid and give him the things that make him smile.  

Last night as I was tucking Keaton into bed, he hugged me and said, "Mom, this was my best birthday ever.  Thanks a bunch."

Swoon.

Makes every second worth it.

Happy Birthday, Keaton!!! 

Keaton and I on BIRTHday.  August 3, 2000.

6 weeks old

2010

My, how time flies.

Good.

This past weekend was probably one of the most relaxing and fun weekends that our family has had in a long while. 

We didn't do anything spectacular.....maybe that's what made it so great.  In fact, we didn't do anything spectacular at all.  It was just good.

Friday night, the husband went out with his man-friends to shoot fish. (Yes...shoot fish.  And, yes...it's legal.  And, no...I don't know any more than that.)  Don't get me wrong...I love the husband.  But I also love falling asleep in my bed with total control of the remote control.  And it's different than when he's gone on trips...because I can fall asleep easy knowing that he'll stroll in at some point in the middle of the night.  Downside is that he strolls in smelling of fish guts...but I don't guess you can win 'em all.

On Saturday morning, I let the little country gas station, that is just down the road from our house, cook breakfast for me.  They make the most fabulous breakfast sandwiches complete with from-scratch biscuits and the most ginormous slabs of bacon and sausage.  YUM.  What makes it even better is that while you're waiting for the precious lady to whip up your biscuit, you can listen to all the cute little old men gossip about the town's 'bidness over coffee.  This is why I love being an American.

We spent most of Saturday day working in the yard even though it was hotter than Hades.  We mowed and sweat and dragged limbs and sweat and cleaned up around the house and sweat and sweat and sweat.  And then we washed our cars and played in the water just so we wouldn't die of heat stroke.  Arkansas summers ain't for sissies, folks.

After a heat-induced coma that afternoon, we headed out to dinner and a movie for Keaton's birthday.  We watched Despicable Me.  Have you seen it?  It's so good.  I laughed. And I cried.  And I laughed some more.  But not nearly as much as the over-zealous woman in red Hawaiian print pants who was seated behind me.  She was l.o.u.d. found the movie delightfully engaging.

Kirk and I kept the bed babies Sunday morning at church.  One of my most favorite jobs ever.  And it makes my heart get all melty when I see the husband schmoozing over a little teeny bambino.  And it makes my uterus hurt for more babies.  And when I pointed out that fact to the husband that morning, he all but threw the little tike at me and run for cover.  Wuss.

After church we went and ate at one of my most favorite places evuh with a few of my most people evuh. 
There is nothing like good friends, good conversation, and fried food dipped in gravy.  Swoon. 

After lunch we went and picked up our cow.  Yes...our cow.  You think I'm kidding.  You all know about my grocery bill and my inability to keep any remnants of food in the house, so our solution was to buy a cow.  We ordered our cow last fall sometime and split him with these fine specimens of besties.  I guess our cow, whom we have taken to calling "George", has been living it up on the farm for the past few months getting all kinds of fattened up.  And now he is happily (for us, not him) residing in our freezer.  Want to know what half a cow looks like?

That's a lot of meat, folks.  That's a lot of meat.  And as excited as I am about a freezer full of George...it also means that I have to start cooking again.  Double-edged sword.

We ended our Sunday with a hearty nap and then began the highlight of my summer:

SHARK WEEK!! 

It just keeps getting better........

The Mother Ship and Punnett Squares....

I'm currently inhabiting the Mother Ship. 

It's always good to make the great voyage to my Home Planet.  Firstly, because I love to see my Parental Units.  And secondly, because it means that I don't have to cook for as many meals as I spend suppin' at the Table'O'Rents.

I've been breathing the same air as my Begetters for the better part of 12 hours now, and I've made some very observant observations.

1.  That my mother is an excellent housekeeper.  I left my white gloves in my other purse, but I've been studying the surfaces and faces of this fine crash pad, and I can't find a speck of dust anywhere.  I've also noticed that the beds are always made here.  And the laundry and dishes are always caught up.  I decided that maybe it was just because we're not at home anymore, and surely Jim-Dad can't make too big of a mess for her to have to clean up after.  But then I remembered that the house was always clean when I lived at home, too.  And she worked a full-time job.  And now I realize that I inherited narry a squosh of her cleanliness genes. 

2.  That I will from now on blame my messy house and piles of laundry begging to be folded on the unfortunate outcome of a Punnett Square.  Can't fight genetics....

3.  That my affection for an afternoon nap is also the result of many years of fruit fly analysis.  As long as I can remember, my mom has settled herself down for an afternoon siesta.  No ifs, ands, or buts.  Just napping.  So my retirement to my bed every afternoon isn't laziness....it's genetics.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  And to think that I didn't believe them when they said that suffering through Mr. I'm-A-Bore Berry's Biology class in highschool would all pay off one day. 

4.  That while we're on the topic of genetics, this would be a safe time to huddle around the fact that I was not blessed with my mother's Green Thumbedness.  Well, I guess that's not entirely true.  Perhaps my own Green Thumb is just suppressed under miles and miles of my own unwillingness to hang out watering flowers for an hour in the hot and sticky Arkansas humidity.  I kid you not...it was an hour that my mama stood out there with that water hose tonight.  AN HOUR?  ON FLOWERS?  That's a whole episode of Grey's Anatomy.  Um...not gonna happen.  Even for the love of a tiger lily.

5.  That Shirley Temple movies are just as black and white here as they are my house.  But they are much more entertaining and easy to watch.  Could be because Jim-Dad and Grammy watch them of their own freewill and don't huff, puff, and blow the tv set down.  I'm beginning to notice that the Husband's idea of vintage viewing entertainment is watching an episode of Manswers from last November, and that the only Shirley Temple he knows of is the one propping up a mini paper umbrella.

6.  That I'm going to sleep well tonight knowing that my mama and daddy are in the next room....

Whoever said you can't go home again was crazy..... 
As was Mr. Boring Biology Berry.

Being FAP-ed

Being FAP-ed stinks. 

And lately we've been getting FAP-ed more and more often.  I blame Facebook and its siren call that speaks to my offspring like cheesecake speaks to me.  You see, my wee babes don't log onto FB to network socially...oh no....they log on to play those blasted games.  Farmville.  Frontierville.  Treasure Islandville.  Pet Societyville.  And every other -ville possibly alive. 

The -villes are the source of the FAP-edness. 

Growl.

If you are unfamiliar with the world'o'FAP, let me just tell you that it is some hokey mess that my satellite Internet provider came up with to make my life miserable.  Apparently we're only allowed a certain amount of bandwidth yada yada per 34.6 seconds or something or other.  And if we exceed our allowance, then the FAP Patrol waltzes in and retires your computers to slower than dial-up speed.  And it takes me to my very ugly place.  And dern Farmville FAPs us faster than all get out.  (***I've had some people commenting that they have never heard of the mysterious FAP.  Go here.  Be enlightened.***)

Last night and today, we succumbed to the FAP gods, which disappointed me highly since today was my day that I had designated as my entirely free day.  All my chores were caught up around the house, and we had absolutely nowhere to be.  'Twould have been a fantastic day to catch up on all of my webby responsibilities, but, Behold:  The Almighty FAP. 

Double Growl.

So I did what anyone else would do when the FAP appears.  I got a little crafty.  And I napped.  And I read.  And I went through all 9,563 pictures stuck in my computer and organized every.single.one.of.them.  Go on....yawn with me.  Because the pictures wore me out.  But, I'm so glad that I got that job done.  My picture folders were beyond the clean-up stage....they needed an all-out overhaulin'. 

While I was digging around and deleting and moving folders here and there, I rediscovered some of my most favorite pictures EVER.  Some I remembered...but others I had forgotten about....

Like this 'lil beauty:

Nothing like a toga party.....

Or this one of me and Tate.  Gosh...I love his angel face.  Looking at this picture is enough to make me do the ugly cry.

Or what about Keaton dressed up as Gandalf the White (Lord of the Rings)?  It makes me snicker and snort all over myself:

This one is of Kirk and me up in Rocky Mountain National Park.  One of my most favorite pictures of us evuh.  And that trip to Colorado a couple of years ago was one of my most favorite trips I've ever taken.  Good sweet memories....

Aw...and this one makes me misty because I love my momma and daddy and big sister....

And I love this one of Keaton and me because he's actually smiling in the picture, and the.kid.NEVER.smiles in pictures....

I could keep this up forever....but if I keep uploading pictures, I'm just going to FAP us again.  And you already know my feelings on that whole scenario....

Although if I can dig back through pictures and snort-giggle and ugly cry a little bit...the FAPage may just be worth it.

I said MAY.