The boys brought me flowers today. It was all their own idea. They asked the sitter if they could pick some flowers for me. She didn't have any blooming, but she walked them next door to the gardens that her mom keeps and let them each choose a flower to cut. Drew chose the white rose, and Nick chose the pink one.




They were so proud when I picked them up. They couldn't wait to surprise me. And I was definitely surprised.

But wait. It gets better. My kids know me so much better than I realized. We got home and put the roses in water. It's the normal first-thing-in-the-door madness going on, and everyone is talking at once, looking for toys and going through backpacks and showing off drawings and asking for drinks and snacks.

I hear Drew say "Mom, are you gonna take pictures of the flowers now?"

So I did.

Andy has to work tonight, but tomorrow night we're taking them to the fair. Both boys say they're going to ride the ferris wheel and the big slide and the merry-go-round.

We'll see. I'll be sure to let you know if it happens.

This week has been a little unusual for our family, in that Andy has been home in the evenings for 3 days now. His schedule just worked out that way. He's not home tonight, but for the past 3 nights, and tomorrow night, he's here. We shouldn't get used to it.

Last night, I just sat back and watched. I didn't play with them at all. And I realized (and oh, it hurt me inside) that I could learn some things from my husband.

Let's backtrack a little here. Andy is a great guy. He's a ton of fun. The life of the party. Everyone loves him. He's great at his job, and he's really good and getting stuff done around here, mostly once I've asked (told) him what to do. Sometimes I'm a little bossy. That's OK. He knew that when he married me. It's a relationship that works for us. Anyway...

I do most of the parenting, by default. It's just that Andy isn't around much. He hasn't been, not since Drew was born. He works long hours, 2 jobs most of the time, just to keep us afloat. It's a huge sacrifice he makes for the good of our family, and I so appreciate it. But it's not always easy for me. I'm alone here alot. I take care of almost all of the housework, alot of the yardwork, the bills, and the childcare. Plus I work full time, too. And I have to be the one dealing with the temper tantrums, the paci addictions, the potty training, and the children-who-never-sleep. It leaves me to be the bad guy. The disciplinarian. And then Daddy swoops in with some fun time and leaves me looking really bad.

But, as I've said before, I get a little crabby sometimes. I start feeling a little sorry for myself. And I wonder how much of that is true and how much of it I make up in my head. I wonder if my kids really see me the way I see myself. And I wonder if I was just a little easier on myself if we wouldn't all be a little happier.

So, back to my original thought. Have I lost you yet? I was watching Andy play with the boys.
And he didn't get frustrated when they didn't follow the rules of the game. He just made up new rules. You can do that?

He laughed at himself. I never do that.

He gave them popsicles and wasn't concerned about their clothes. Of course, he doesn't do the laundry, but still...

He didn't get mad when the ball went outside the fence and he had to get it...6 times. It was all fun.

I've come to the conclusion that perhaps I should relax a bit. So, how do I do that? Any suggestions?

**Oh, something else I learned last night. I learned that Andy thought you needed a boat to get from California to Alaska. Needed. He wasn't joking.

Labels: Parenting

Nothing of any real importance to say today. Work was fine, home is fine, Andy is fine, the boys are fine.

But the tobacco field sure looked pretty in the evening sun:










Where were the children while I was taking these pictures, you ask? Right behind me, every step of the way. I tripped over them more than once.

Do you have what it takes to become an American citizen?

I scored an 85% on this quiz. Startled myself a little, I think. I would have hoped to have gotten 100%.

Nick will be 3 years old in less than a month. Until today, he had a pacifier.

I never meant to let it go this far. I'm not a big fan of the paci. I cringe when I see kids his age and older (and, honestly, some younger) walking around out in public with a paci stuck in their faces. Drew never had one, really. He did for awhile, but it went away on it's own before he was 6 months old. We never even offered one to Nick. He found one in the toy box that must have been an old discarded one of Drew's (ick) after he had already learned to crawl.

It was love at first taste.

I've tried numerous times to help him kick the paci habit. Of course, he's the baby here. It's really not his fault, it's mine. I'm not strong enough. He is my baby. I took them away, but I always gave them back. I just couldn't let him cry for them. I cut the ends off of them, then bought more because he needed them to sleep. He needed them, or I needed him to need them? Because surely after a few nights everything would have been just fine. But I didn't want to sleep any less than I already was. And, well, he's my baby.

He never used them anywhere but at home. Never. Not at the sitters house, or at a store or playground or park. Not visiting friends. Not usually during the daytime, or even for naps, unless he was sick or sad. Just in the evenings, and at bedtime.


Since about January we've been talking up the idea of giving the paci's away when he turns 3. He warmed right up to the idea of giving them to another baby that needed them. At his party. When he turns 3. We've reminded him of the plan nearly every day, and he's always been OK with it. But not once has he been OK with the idea of doing it sooner.

Until today.

Today Nick was sitting on the couch, with his white paci in his mouth. I said something offhand about him looking like a baby. Andy agreed. Nick was quite offended. "I'm a big boy" he said. Andy told him not so much, that he hadn't ever seen a big boy with a paci before. Even Drew said something to the same effect. I thought Nick might cry. I don't think it ever occured to him before that he might not be a big boy.

I asked him if he might like to give his paci away to another baby today. Andy told him that he knew about a baby at his work that really needed one. Nick said OK.

Wow!

All of a sudden I wasn't so sure I was ready to do this, but hey--no going back now, right?

We found a gift bag in the back, and Nick put all 3 of his remaining pacis in. I asked him several times if he was sure, and he assured me that he was ready to be a big boy.

OK.


Andy gave Nick the keys to the cruiser, and he led the way. He unlocked it himself:


Say goodbye to the paci:


In go the pacis:


So now Nick is officially a big boy.

Although you might notice, he's holding on to that lion pretty tight. And right now he's sitting on the couch covered with his blankie.

One step at a time.

Last Sunday we didn't work the cows because of the weather. But this morning was beautiful, so we got it all done. It worked out well--because of the delay, 2 people who couldn't have made it last week were able to attend this morning.

Here are the ladies (and one gentleman--he's the big guy looking over the top there near the center) all penned up and waiting. There are 15 cows, 9 calves, and a bull. A fairly small herd.


With the exception of one, we've all done this together before, so we all know our parts well. Everyone knows just what they're supposed to do and when. And who not to make mad. And who to make fun of. It's a pretty well orchestrated event. Except, the corral is new this year. In the past, we've always done it with a temporary setup. So we got off to a rocky start with everyone trying to find their places and figure out their responsibilities.

Once we got into the swing of things, though, it went really smoothly. The corral worked really well. There are some improvements to be made--those became noticeable almost immediately. Live and learn. We were finished in 2 hours, with only one escapee. And we got that one back up and worked, no problem.


All of the animals got vaccinated for everything. Everyone got a pour-on dewormer, and fly spray. Everyone got new fly tags in their ears. Some of the cows, and all of the babies, got new ear tags. The bull calves aren't bulls any longer. And one of the cows was so nasty to deal with that she got a free ride in the trailer straight to the sale barn. The herd is now one cow smaller.

But not this one:


That's one of my favorites. And she had an additional service performed. She was checked to see when she was due to give birth. I bet she'll calve any day now.

Everyone working in the pens got kicked just once. Not bad. Not bad at all.

It was a good morning.

I got home, and the boys took one look and said "Eeeewww! Mom! Eeeeewwww!!!"

Yes, that's me.

That's was my score on the "Are you a Rebel or are you a Yankee?" test.

It's a language quiz, to see just what your speech patterns are.

86% Dixie.

Anyone surprised?

I'm pretty good at making things all about someone else. I can point the finger at Andy or the boys 9 times out of 10. But this time, well, it's all me.

A few months back, I watered the plant sitting on top of the entertainment center. Why, I don't know. I always, always take it down and water it in the sink, because it leaks. But I poured a glass of water in it, and the water rained down into the back of the television set.

Now, more backstory. We have never, ever purchased a televsion. Not once. Every TV we've ever owned has been a hand-me-down or a gift. We had a set that was quite old and had tons of issues, and so last year my parents bought us a new, 27 inch set as an anniversary gift. So, the television I ruined was only a year old.

Interestingly enough, it didn't die immediately. It worked for quite awhile. But it's been slowly dying. And this past week was it. It takes 20 minutes to turn on, and then it just turns off whenever it feels like it. And then takes 20 more minutes to turn back on. Oh, and sometimes there's only half a picture.

Andy's parents generously offered us a televsion set that they don't use any longer. Yay! I still don't have to buy a TV. My record stands. Andy drove all the way to Mayfield and picked it up one evening this week. Here it is:


It works fine. It has a nice picture. It's the same size as our old one. Only one problem. I can hear it. Not the sound. But the electronic sound. Any of you know what I'm talking about? That electronic monitor whine? Oh, it's awful. It's the loudest one I've ever heard. Andy thinks I'm absolutely insane, because he can't hear it. But I can't even stand to have it turned on. I can hear it all through the house, no matter where I am.

So, this morning I bought this:


Yes, the sound is really that awful. Truly. $260 worth of awful. The record has been broken. After 32 years on planet earth, I have purchased my first television. And I don't have anyone to blame but myself.

After I drill strategic holes in the stump, I will apply the Revenge powder. According to the bottle, in approximately 4-6 weeks, the stump will have decayed enough that it can be easily removed using an axe. Or using the much cooler method of filling the holes with kerosene or diesel fuel, letting the kerosene/diesel soak the rotted stump, and setting it on fire.

Which method do you think I will choose? Yeah. Definitely the fire.

So, I'm off to begin the process of destroying the stump. Then, because I am somewhat girly, I'm going to pot up some full-sun type annuals in a pretty pot to set on the stump until it's gone.

Because we wouldn't want our yard to look all ugly for the party next month, now would we?

June 22.

Exactly one month until Nick's 3rd birthday (and just a little less than a month until Drew's 5th birthday).

But that's not what I'm counting down to. July 22, while being Nick's birthday, will also be the date of the big birthday bash this year.

We've had a party every year since Drew turned one. I think for his first birthday there were about 15 guests--mostly family, some close friends. It's gotten bigger every year. We added Nick, the boys added friends, and it just keeps growing. Last year there were 30 or more folks here at various times throughout the day. This year I'm expecting more.

We keep it casual. We're casual people. It's a cookout, and this year (like last year, per request of the boys) the theme is tractors. John Deere tractors. There will be hot dogs, and chips. Baked beans, and potato salad. Cake, cake, and more cake. Presents, presents, and more presents. More presents than any 2 little boys could ever need. All outside, in July. Fortunately, we have plenty of shade. Not always enough chairs, but plenty of shade. Last year we broke out the slip-n-slide.

Last year I told people that they didn't need to bring gifts. They did anyway. I can't blame them. I wouldn't go empty handed to a party, either. But golly. Whatever will we do with all the toys?

And I don't know if you guys have ever noticed, but I tend to get a little stressed out over things. Just a tiny bit worked up. A tad worried. I've already started. The invitations have been mailed. Got yours yet? Because if not, I've got spares. I can send another. I've already bought some supplies--table covers, plates, forks. I still don't know what I'm going to do for cakes--I'm leaning toward cupcakes this year. Maybe 50, with 25 each with green and yellow icing? And little John Deere decals? And goodie bags. I've never done them before, but this year there will be more children then ever before. They seem to be expected. Last year one (rude) little girl asked for one and pouted when I explained that the balloon was her prize to take home.

Anyway, here are some random photos for your viewing enjoyment. Please share any party tips you may have. Or, just come host it for me.

Today Drew went to the eye doctor.

Don't worry. There's nothing wrong with him. I didn't even think there might be. But in order to go to school this fall, he has to have a form filled out by an eye doctor saying that he can see. Apparently, as a parent, I'm not qualified enough or trustworthy enough to decide when my child needs to see a doctor, so the school system tells me just what I need to do. He has to have a physical, too, to make sure he's all healthy. Or else they won't take him.

Interestingly enough, though, he's got a bit of color blindness. He can't see the brown numbers in the green dots, like this:


He picked the numbers right out in all the other color combinations, but missed the green/brown every time.

And, overall, I was quite impressed. Drew gives me alot of resistance at home when we go over the alphabet, or numbers. He goes out of his way to make me sure that he doesn't know anything at all. But when the Dr. asked him to identify numbers and letters, he got them all correct, first time, every time. Even some stuff I truly didn't think he would know. And Nick, sitting over in the corner on my lap, was answering all the questions under his breath. He got them all correct, too.

So, anyway, dorky me intended to take my camera and take some artsy shots of Drew getting an eye exam. I thought the lighting and apparatus might make for neat photos.

I forgot the camera in my rush to get there on time after work.

So, I'll share these instead.

A new blog was brought to my attention today.

2, 996




D.Challener Roe says it much better than I could, so check it out. I think I'm going to participate, even though I don't see myself as much of a writer.

Maybe some of you could, too.

Well, the morning cattle work has been postponed, because of this:


It doesn't look so bad still like that, but if you run the radar loop the lines of storms pop up continuously throughout the morning, one after another after another. I don't really have any problem working in the rain, but the lightning is an issue. So, at 6:35 this morning, we called it off. And it's nice for Andy, too, because he ended up working a full shift last night, so he'd have been running on empty by the time I got home this afternoon.

No big deal. The herd will still be there next weekend, with maybe an additional calf by the looks of one of the cows.

I just wish I could have gone back to bed. No such luck--both boys were up and ready for the day by 6:00. *sigh*

Happy Father's Day, everyone.

Well, for a Father's Day post, I have 2 choices. I can talk about my dad, or I can talk about my husband, who is the father of my children. Well, I guess I have 3 choices. I could mention them both.

No matter what it won't be a really long, involved post because, as I've said before, I'm not a real emotional mush type of gal. I just have to go through life hoping that those that I love know that I love them, because I'm not likely to tell them very often.

Anyway.

I mention Andy on here now and then, and I guess you guys know he's a pretty great guy. I get pretty frustrated with him now and again, but I'm just that way. Fortunately for me he's a laid back, easy to get along with fellow. And he's a wonderful dad. But, it's not my place to praise him for that. That would be his kids' responsibility. So, for this very post, I asked my boys to come up with 10 reasons why they love their dad. Their list, in their own words:

1. He's fun
2. He's cool
3. He buys toys at the store
4. He's a policeman
5. He can run fast
6. He can drive fast
7. He will get them a dog someday
8. He has his own policeman car
9. He's strong
10.He can throw us high in the sky

So there you go. That's why Andy is a great dad, through the eyes of his kids.

Now, my Dad. This is my Dad: (and Mom, I didn't put up a picture of you on Mother's Day. Can you ever forgive me?)


I remember my dad mostly working when my brothers and I were kids. He worked a full time job, and then came home and worked some more. There was always something to do--something to build, or to maintain, or to repair. When we were old enough we worked with him. I don't really remember, but I suspect I may not have liked doing the work at the time. Looking back on it now, it was enjoyable. Enjoyable enough that I volunteer to do the exact same work for friends to help them out. Fencing. Mowing. Cattle. Decking. Picking up rocks in the field (OK, that one wasn't enjoyable...). Everyone likes my dad. Everyone that gets up the courage to talk to him, anyway. My friends tell me that he looks a bit intimidating. OK, whatever. He's funny. He's generous to a fault. Except he charged Andy a quarter for me when we got married. A quarter! Are you kidding me? I'm worth way more than that! But Andy paid, I have the picture to prove it.

Anyway, Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I have your gift here. I'll give it to you next time we see you.

I was waiting to take Nick's 3 year old portraits until his hair was a little longer, because it sticks up in funny places. Solution? Make it stick up all over. We put some mousse in it last night as a joke, and he's loving the new hairdo.

Thinks he's cool as all get-out.

I still think he looks a bit like a hedgehog, but hey, as long as he's happy. And it gets a great reaction out in public.

So, I thought I'd do his photos today. They turned out better than I thought they would.

Presenting Nick, the almost-3-year-old:

Finally Friday.

I was so ready for Friday. I was ready for it to be Friday by Tuesday, and that makes for a long week. That first week back after vacation is always a rough one. But now the weekend is here.

This weekend is starting off fairly typically for us. Andy is working tonight, as usual, so it's just me and the boys. We played outside for a long time. Now they're in the tub. I'm listening to them splash around as I compose this.

I took a few nice pictures tonight:





Tomorrow will be the usual Saturday stuff. Partly because it needs to be done, and partly because it keeps us out of the house so that Andy can sleep. Weekly shopping, wash the truck, fill the truck with gas. Laundry, pay bills, clean the house. Water the outside plants. Play play play. And I'm cat-sitting this week for a friend, so I'll have to run over there at least once and take care of that chore.

Sunday is Father's Day. I'll have to find you guys a good picture of my dad. I'm pretty sure I took one the last time I was home.

Also Sunday I have work to do. A friend is working cattle Sunday and they're short-handed (way short-handed) so I've been called in to help. Yay! Believe it or not (and if you know me for real I'm sure you believe it) that's just the sort of thing I enjoy doing. The sort of thing I would do just for the fun of it, all the time, if I could. Or for a living, if I could. And it's been awhile since I've had the chance. So good. Something to look forward to. And I'm taking my camera, so maybe just maybe I'll get a chance to take some interesting photographs, depending on everyone's mood and the behavior of the cattle.

I mentioned a few days back that Nick caught a snake and I missed it. Well, we saw the snake again this evening while we were playing outside. Apparently it's quite comfortable living in our yard. No one caught it this time, though. The boys remembered their warnings to tell a grown-up if they ever saw another snake, and because I was far away when they saw it I didn't get there quick enough to catch it for them before it went back in it's hole.

But the experience was apparently quite exciting, and they re-told the snake story from before several times over:


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I've mentioned it here before, but I'll say it one more time. We don't really live in the country. We want to. We would love to. And we by no means live in a city, or even really in a suburb. But we don't live out in the country. We have neighbors. City water. Cable. No pizza delivery, but there's a Sonic Burger and a McDonald's a mere 6 miles away.

But still, things are different here. This:

is a fairly common sight. This fellow made several trips back and forth past the house last night, hauling hay from the field to the barn. The boys waved each and every time, and he waved back every time. I have no idea who he is, but I bet he's nice. He's also getting up there in years--90 if he's a day. But here he is, farming. What else does he have to do? Usually a tractor on a mission like this will have a farm truck following, with the hazard lights flashing to warn the traffic behind. Not this guy. He was working alone.

Last night also happened to be perfect weather for washing the vehicle. Can't have our ride looking trashy, now can we?

For the first year of their lives, I took the boys to have their portrait made every 3 months. Then again at 18 months, and then yearly. That gets pricey. So I take them to the Wal-Mart Portrait studio. Decent portraits, fairly decent prices. But still, pricey. And I always end up with not enough of some sizes and thousands left over of other sizes.

So this year, I'm attempting to do it myself. I figure, if I fail miserably, Wal-Mart will still be there. And this way, everyone can look and tell me exactly what poses and what sizes they want and I can just order it. No worrying about any packages or plans.

So, without any further ado, here are Drew's 5 year old portraits. I took 35 pictures, and these are the best. And yes, I know he won't be 5 for another month. I wanted to take them while his new haircut was still fresh. And I haven't taken Nick's yet, because I want his hair to grow some more first. I will post his when I get them taken, probably next month sometime.

So, acceptable? Care to place an order?

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These are some daisies that the boys picked for me while we were on vacation. They make me smile. I've saved this photo as my computer wallpaper for awhile. It helps. I'm feeling better. More myself. The normal me is typically a little crabby anyway, so I'm no bundle of joy, but I'm not as unpleasant as I was on Friday. I'm getting there. I guess everyone has their blah days.

Friday night Andy took the boys to the movies to see Cars. They had a blast. It was Nick's first movie. Aside from not being heavy enough to hold the seat down in the theater, he had a great time, and was very well behaved. Andy doesn't get much time with the boys these days, so it was a real treat for him, too. They even had McDonald's afterwards.

Yesterday I took some time for myself. Usually I spend my time here, and I do chores and such. This time I took my camera, a book, and a bottle of water. After the boys were down for naps I headed out to the farm. I went out to the back side where I knew no one would be, parked the truck in the shade, and spent 2 hours alone. I took some pictures, but nothing really special. I read a little bit. I waded in the creek. I was slightly useful and cut the heads off of some thistles. I saw some deer, and some turkeys, and a fox. I was quiet, and alone. It was nice.

When I got home it was time to head into town. Last night was our cookout for work. It was fun. There was a decent turnout, with alot of kids there. Someone had the foresight to plan it at a park with playground equipment, so everyone was entertained. And, as a bonus, that it was a cookout meant I didn't have to cook supper! I provided deviled eggs (my standard) and that was that.

Today is another lazy day, and the last day of my vacation. Tomorrow I head back to work. My co-workers tell me tomorrow will be a light day, so I won't be slammed upon my return, but still, I don't want to go back. I could so get used to this stay-at-home gig. The boys are another story. This is the second morning in a row they've asked, no, begged, to please please pretty please go to Ms. Trish's house today.

Tomorrow, boys. Tomorrow.

...I really do. I feel like I need to. I feel like to need to write down everything that is bothering me. Get it all out in the open. But I don't know what it is. I have ideas. But nothing is definite.

I've had kind of a blah day. I've been feeling kinda down. Do you ever have a day like that, when you're a little sad, a little blah, for no real reason? It's annoying. It's especially difficult to explain to little kids. But I can't seem to shake it. I woke up this way, and it's stuck with me all day. I sure hope it's gone tomorrow.

The boys have been fine. Andy's been fine. Everyone else is happy. The weather has been fine, sunny and breezy and warm.

Nothing is really wrong. Not really. Well, I guess something is. I just don't know what.

Anyway.

I'll try to do better tomorrow.

As Scarlett would say, tomorrow is another day.

Well, the boys and I arrived home yesterday from our trip. We had a wonderful time. There were birthday parties:
We went to the Bass Pro Shop:





And to the zoo:



In total, we spent 3 and a half days away. We stayed with my parents. The boys (and I) had a great time. We celebrated my Mom's birthday, and my youngest brothers birthday. I took the boys to the Bass Pro shop, where they both chose "hunting clothes" (that means camo--as if they didn't own any of that!) as a souvenier (did I spell that right?) instead of a toy. We went to the Louisville Zoo. Drew had his very first ever sleepover, and stayed the night with his Aunt Kellie and Uncle Doug. We spent time with family, which is always nice. I did some shopping. The boys were, for the most part, on their best behavior. And then, yesterday, we came home.

Home.

I was talking to a friend this morning on the telephone who asked me how my trip was. I said that we had a great time, but I was glad to be home. And I got this reply: "Well, that's the best part of any vacation, right? Coming home?"

Thing is, I didn't grow up here. I've lived in this area for 10 years, 14 if you count my college years. But it's home to me. When I moved back into my parents' house after college graduation, I didn't feel much at home anymore. Sure, the house was basically the same. My family was there. But the area had changed alot in the 4 years I had been gone. And all those friends? 4 years earlier we had sworn to never forget each other. To always keep in touch. Uh huh. All gone. I keep in vauge touch now with a friend from high school. One. And occasional Christmas cards from some others. So when I was offered a job here, in the place I had come to think of as my comfort zone, I jumped at it. And at first, I was even glad for the 2 hours that I was away from my family (sorry, Mom). Now, not so much. I miss them, especially now that I have kids. But they're not moving and neither am I, so we'll just have to deal. I am such a homebody. With the exception of perhaps an annual vacation, I fully intend to live out the rest of my days in this very county. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I'm comfortable here like I have lived here all my life. I know people. I know my way around. I remember the Wal-Mart before it was Super.

This town isn't really anyplace special. It's not a bustling metropolis. It's an hour or more to any major city. There is no shopping to speak of unless you're a big Wal-Mart/K-Mart fan (well, there is a JC Penney). Fine dining? O'Charleys is nice.

But it's home.

At any rate, we're back. And we aren't going anywhere for awhile.

The yard is mowed and the flowers are watered for the day. The laundry is washed, dried, and put away. I'm saving the weekend chores for the weekend. I still have one full weekday left of my vacation, and I think I'll use it to take my kids swimming. Or the one kid who will swim, anyway...

Don't worry if you don't see me for a bit. At least 5 days, maybe more. You see, I'm on vacation. And I'm leaving town. But don't try to rob my house or anything, because my policeman husband will still be here...

I have an entire week off of work! I just don't know what to do with myself. I am so happy. And it's even nicer now because I know I'm leaving everything in capable hands, meaning I won't be returning to a huge mess like I did the last time I took time off. I can actually relax.

The boys and I are taking the first half of the week to visit my parents. In the works are 2 birthday parties (Happy Birthday, Mom! Happy Birthday, Doug!), a trip to the Louisville Zoo, maybe some shopping (perhaps the Bass Pro Shop), and some general hanging out. Nice.

Thursday and Friday, the days Andy does have some free time, he and the boys will be visiting Andy's grandparents. And maybe some friends of ours in Paducah, if our schedules can be worked out. And I'd like to work in a little scrapbooking if I can.

And sometime in there, the yard still will need to be mowed and the weed-eater run, the grocery shopping, cleaning, and laundry will still need to be done, and the bills will still need to be paid.

But it's OK, because I'm on vacation!



**Oh, if you are wondering about Fern, her bloodwork showed that she's actually pretty sick. She's got an autoimmune disorder attacking her liver. Treatable, hopefully. We've started her on meds that should make a difference. Her mood has actually improved noticeably in just the past day.

The weather around here has been odd, to say the least. We didn't have much of a winter, really. It was so mild, and we were all so sure summer was going to hit hard and fast. But it didn't. The cool, damp weather lingered on and on and on. Here it was May and still windows were open all the time and occasionally the furnace would kick on at night. Living was good. Then I guess Mother Nature woke up and realized "Hey, it's Memorial Day weekend! What am I doing?! It's summertime!" And it was hot. H-O-T hot.

But Andy and I had already decided we weren't turning on the A/C until June. We were tough. We could handle it. We used to do it all the time. But for the past couple of years we've had excuses--either I've been pregnant and H-O-T hot or there's been a baby who we didn't want to overheat, so we turned it on at the first sign of warmth. But this year, no way. It didn't matter how hot it was, we were waiting. We are cheap.

On Saturday, May 27, the temp. reached 94 degrees outside with 90% humidity. It was 89 degrees in the house. I wasn't giving in, until I saw this:

What you can't see is the fan behind me, pointed right at her. And the ceiling fan directly above, going full blast. Fern is H-O-T hot, and I realized that the pennies I was saving by not turning on the A/C for a few days probably weren't worth the discomfort we were all feeling, especially those of us unable to voice our discomfort.

On Monday night Nick woke from a nightmare in which 'Fern Kitty' died and went heaven. He was terrified and didn't sleep well the rest of the night. He's been worried about her ever since.

Today Andy took Fern to the clinic because she's sick. She's not eating well and is just not feeling like herself. Typically she's the dominant cat in the household and Daisy (who is normally pretty submissive) has been picking on her quite a bit the past few days. I've got blood and other samples in at the lab--hopefully I'll have some results in the morning.

Also, in human health news, Nick has developed quite a nasty cough. I suspect it's allergy related. He's had some drainage for awhile now (ever since the cottonwood trees started doing their thing) and I think it's finally catching up with him. But it's really dragging him down. He's having a hard time sleeping, no matter what I give him to help out.

And Drew's toe seems to have cleared up once again, thanks to the antibiotics. Hopefully this time it will stay that way. *fingers crossed*

Alright, well, supper smells done. Meatloaf and macaroni and cheese tonight. Yum.