Four seasons

Today we had a taste of all four seasons - sunshine, rain, sleet, hail, and sunshine with clouds - and all while in the area of Dingle.

It was cold but lovely - unless you forgot your undershirt, sweatshirt, and socks (name not revealed). A lot of good those clothes do while still in the suitcase.

Californians can be such weather-sissies.

Doesn't Steve's sweatshirt look great on Charlie?

Packing sardines

Since Jean got demoted to the back seat, it's been a challenge each day getting her in the car. She can't figure out which part of her body goes in first, therefore, none of it goes anywhere.

First, she puts her rear down on the seat, but then can't quite get it in far enough. Then Steve tries to help get her legs in, and holding her feet tells her to PUSH.

Charlie is on the other end, pulling her from behind. He's yelling "PUSH, PUSH" while G'ma replies, "I am" over and over.

Then the final announcement. Just as Jean gets all the way in the car Charlie shouts "IT'S A GIRL!"

Steve just falls over. We all laugh so hard, Charlie can't stand up, Jean can't sit up and I can't breathe. I think Bette missed the whole thing, either that or she's just pretending she doesn't know who we were.

I'm pretty sure people around us are wondering what is going on in that car today.

Signs of life

"New dentures made while you wait. Oh, look, I could get a new smile while we have lunch."

"Cork button company. My mother used to love buttons."

"Kick ass. There's a guy who says he can put someone in his place."

These are all things G'ma Coleman said today while driving. These, and much more. She reads out-loud every sign she can manage and no one knows why.

At the same time in the front seat, Charlie is holding the GPS upside down so he can hear it say "Recalculating" and see how long it takes the thing to mess up.

In the meantime, Steve's saying "Where the *_*_* do we go next?"

G'pa says "Huh? What? Oh, yes, I am a little hungry, lunch sounds like a good idea."

Bette and I look out the window, mostly quiet. After all, why talk? Everyone else seems to be saying all that needs to be said.

Welcome to Ireland

We arrived together and in one piece on the Emerald Isle. And somehow we've managed to find our way through Dublin, and finally out of it to travel south to Cork. That's where the Connelly family is from - G'ma and Uncle Charlie's heritage.

In the car, we sandwiched six people into a tiny van, along with about 11 suitcases. G'ma started off sitting in the front seat but since her navigation skills suck, she quickly got re-seated to the back, leaving Charlie to navigate with Steve. I'm not really sure that was an improvement, except he does read things from the map (instead of road signs), just not always in the right order.

It snowed this morning in Dublin. Large, hard, heavy flakes. As we drove out of the city snow dotted the hillsides - a beautiful and unusual sight. Because of the snow, the GPS failed to work, leaving us to fend for ourselves and rely on handwritten directions.

Today we saw the Blarney Stone. None of us liked the idea much of letting Charlie kiss it, since he's already got an abundance of the "gift" offered by the stone. But the castle was cool, and there was absolutely no one there, so we had it all to ourselves.

I haven't taken many pictures, largely because of my seat in the very rear of the vehicle lands me underneath the suitcases and it's a little hard to see out the window. Tomorrow I'll try to get some pictures from Charlie and Bette, I know they've got some good ones.

Speaking of Onions

Every year about this time wild onions start popping up all over the place - in the yard, in the field, in the flower beds.

If you go out and cut the grass you can smell the strong, sweet smell of wild onions. I can't resist them and have to go out and get some to cook with my spinach.

I'm not really sure if these are actually wild onions or wild scallions. They smell a bit garlicky outdoors, and when you cut them up. Usually they're really hard to dig - but this year, with so much rain the ground isn't so hard, and if you wiggle them just right, you can get a whole handful at once.

As I brought these in I started thinking about onions. Why I like them, why other people don't like them, why people think they smell bad. I'm not sure where all those ideas started but I don't agree with them. Onions smell wonderful, outdoors as well as in.

So if you smell onions, on my breathe, or around my house, and tell me you smell onions, I'm going to take it as a compliment. Because I think onions are wonderful, every single layer.

Just like Ogres

Moms are complicated.

We make rules, yet we don't like to follow them. We boss people around but we don't like to be bossed ourselves. We like to laugh, but sometimes do it only on the inside because we don't want people to know we laugh. And heaven forbid that people would know what sort of thing we sometimes laugh at.

We give advice but never really did take advice well ourselves. We don't like to admit that, in the past, we've really blown it - especially not to our kids. But we want to make sure we tell our kids how much they've blown it - because THAT helps.

What's wrong with us?

Sometimes our kids think we enjoy throttling them. That's because we never seem to let up. And why do we keep thinking it's our job to always teach, and forget that kids, young ones and grown up ones, often just want to have a friend? And what is so wonderful about teaching our kids to be completely independent? Do we want them to be alone in life?

Some people thinks moms are ogres. Some moms are, it's true. But some moms just don't remember to stop acting like a mom when the kids grow up, and start acting like a normal human being. I think any person enjoys it when they get to see their mom as part of humanity and not a part of a savage society, like an ogre.

People often say a mom's job is never done, but they're wrong. That's where the layers come in. We need to learn to peel away the layers to find our next place in life.

If we're lucky, we move on, we grow up, hopefully, just like our kids.

Fear Tactics

Amanda was a timid child. When she was small it was easy to contain her. I only had to say to her, "Now sit there," and she wouldn't move an inch. If I put her in a crib or a basket, she'd sit there and play until she got sleepy, then she'd just lie back and nap without a sound. That was, of course, when I was not holding her. She was a great cuddler.

When Amanda was a toddler we lived in a two-story cracker-box house with very steep stairs. Those stairs always scared me a little. Especially at nap time. Amanda was only about three years old, and I worried that she'd topple down and fall - splat - into the opposing wall. She was still a compliant child but she often followed her siblings to places not safe for a three year old - namely the steep staircase.

Luke and Michelle were bigger, and had no trouble descending those stairs by themselves. But I wasn't comfortable having Amanda follow them down after a nap, so I devised a method to keep her upstairs, and wait for me to help her. So I put dust bunnies on watch.

You know what I mean when I say dust bunnies, those wads of dust that accumulate under a table or in the corner of the hallway. They grow like a fungus, almost before your eyes and it sometimes seems they're alive.

Amanda hated dust bunnies. They scared her worse than anything. All I needed to do was take a wad of dust from the end of my broom and put it at the top of the stairs. She'd see that wad of filth and stop in her tracks. Being only three, she liked to come down the stairs on her belly backwards, unless those dust bunnies where there. Those dust bunnies stopped her every time.

Each day, when Michelle or Luke emerged from the staircase, I'd know it was time to go get Amanda. I'd go up those stairs and there at the top, sitting on the floor in front of the stairs, staring at the dust bunnies, was Amanda, thumb in her mouth, holding her pink blankie by her head, waiting for rescue. She'd look at me with those big brown eyes, and often, crocodile tears. It would melt my heart every time. I'd pick her up and cuddle her and think how horrible I was for using scare tactcs on my baby. But it did keep her safe.

Amanda still hates dust bunnies. I'm pretty sure if you asked her right now how she feels about them she'd gag, everso slightly, and tell you she'd rather clean a bathroom than sweep up a pile of those nasty things.

I wonder if there's a name for this phobia?

Yogi's Birthday

One year ago Yogi was born. March 19. I cannot believe that tiny little puppy grew up to be as big as me. He has turned out to be a great dog. I know he'd love to be a pet, but that can't happen. He's a working dog.
And work he does.













Yogi's a great guardian. He guards the goats in the field. He keeps away stray dogs. He makes sure skunks and possums stay out of the barn. He barks late into the night at whatever creatures are out there.

And he pesters. During the day he wants to play and his only companions are those goats. He chases them around all day, and gets butted a lot in the process.

I couldn't be happier with my puppy. I picked him up last year on Mother's Day in May, 6 weeks old. So tiny.











This is Yogi today. Wow, has he ever changed.

Irish day

I actually got out of bed by 8 o'Clock today and headed out. For a Saturday that's pretty good for me. Truthfully, that's pretty good for me any time, since bedtime the past two weeks has been 3 AM.

Insane, I know, getting up that early, but I really like to hear Joe sing in The Dotson Brown Band. They're playing today in Erin's annual St. Patrick's Day celebration, always the 3rd Saturday of March.














Erin is very Irish. It's name alone says that. Erin is the Gaelic name for Ireland.

In 1863, Erin was listed on the Civil War Map of Middle Tennessee. In those days it was a tiny Irish railroad community, with a few stores and a railroad worker camp. When settlers came to the area and saw it's hilly terrain and creeks, it reminded them of their green island home, so named their settlement Erin. If the old Irish saying "Erin go braugh" speaks truth (Ireland Forever), Erin will be around a very long time.

By the celebration Erin puts on each year you'd never know how tiny this town really is. In the 2000 census, Erin had 1,490 residents in 588 households. It's hard to believe this tiny town puts on such a fabulous party. The county fairs around here aren't this good.

2010 is not the first time I've been to the Erin Irish Celebration and I doubt it will be the last. I just wish Steve were here to enjoy it with me. Especially today, all sunny and warm. The perfect day for a parade and outdoor concert.

And a great day to head to the Grand Opening of the Erin Co-op - home of this gorgeous GMC.

The Big Haul

How does one person generate so much garbage? I ask myself that question every single day.

Since I live outside city limits, there's no garbage pickup. That means if I want to get rid of my garbage, I've got to haul it myself. When Steve's here, he helps with that. I think he wonders the very same thing - how I manage to make so much trash.

Today I got fed up with all the crap in my garage. I decided to load up the truck and get rid of it all.














When the truck was full I called the dog and we headed out to the local garbage drop; Humphreys County calls them "Convenience Centers." The only reason they're convenient is they're close. There's one in every town so you don't have to drive twelve miles to the county dump.

The fellow at the center watched me haul boxes, bags and furniture to the compactor. He scratched his head a couple of times then asked if I wanted some help. After all, the truck was pretty full. I laughed and said sure, as I picked up an entire trash can full of garbage and heaved it.

"Do you work for Dupont?" he asked me. That confused me. When I said no, he told me, "Well you sure are strong. Those Dupont women, they're strong too. You're making us look bad."

You gotta do what you gotta do.

We finished cleaning out the truck I thanked him. I told him I'd be back next week with the kitchen sink, the only thing that was missing today.

Ice monster

I heard this noise, the sound of running water, then a big "bang" followed by the cat racing through the house.

The dog barked.

I kept hearing it over and over for days, and in the back of my mind I knew it must be important. I just couldn't think what it was.














Today I went to the freezer to get some green tea. That's when I discovered it. Ice, all over the place, including the floor when I opened the freezer door. I thought these things were supposed to shut themselves off? Mine's apparently not that smart.

I hadn't opened the freezer once since everyone left last week. Many of you know I don't use ice when I drink soda or water. I like things more ambient when I drink, possibly because gulping drinks often gives brain freeze when things are cold. Yes, I do tend to gulp. Besides, the ice always seems to jump out of the glass and hit me in the face and cause me to spill down my shirt. Ice is a monster any way you look at it.

If I had wanted a frozen dinner or maybe some ice cream, maybe I would have found out about this mess earlier and avoided having to clean out the entire freezer.

The ice machine was so backed up, I had to hit it, the ice was frozen into its parts and it was the only way to get everything unstuck.

The animals tried to tell me I had a problem, but did I listen? Oh well, at least I have a clean freezer now.

Tool drawer

I love tool boxes. Not the giant ones you never know where to put, or can barely roll. I prefer the type you can carry with one hand. Metal ones with the old-fashioned draw-bolt locks are the best. I don't care for the key-lock type, mainly because I always lose my keys. I need my stuff accessible. The more complicated I get with my tools, the more disorganized I become.

I used to have a red metal toolbox. I got it for my birthday one year from Steve. That was the best gift. I kept it under the kitchen sink and used it all the time, until we met a widow who didn't have one, so we gave it to her. I miss that toolbox. Since then, I never really knew where to put all my tools. I tried replacing that toolbox once, but got one too complicated and ended up sending that box to the dump. It was just too big, with too many drawers and sections.

These days I keep my tools in a kitchen drawer. That actually works really well because :
A) I have enough drawer space now, and
B) I always seem to need my tools in the house

I don't have many tools, just the standard stuff; hammer, screw driver with multiple tips, pliers, tape measure, wire cutters, wire strippers, spider kits, stuff like that. I even keep a small can of WD-40 in my collection. There are other things in there I usually need, like my paint brush, a voltage tester, nails, screws, plaster screw anchors and a few Hercules hooks. My favorite tool is also in there, the paint can key.














It's embarrassing that my tool drawer has gotten this messy, and that I'm letting you see it.

Somehow other crap gets into that drawer and starts to accumulate. I wait until I absolutely can't stand it, or until I know someone else might be needing a tool soon. That's when I clean it out. Like now. It's amazing what you find when you clean out a drawer. I wondered where that ... had gone.

Oh, there's that door stopper.

Lap tray

Saturdays and rainy days have something in common. Both are good days to stay in bed.
Lots of people think you can't be productive when you stay in bed, but I'm going to argue that point.














For my birthday William and Michelle got me this lap tray, it's made for people like me who like to sit under the covers with a heating pad on rainy days, computer on my lap. The tray has vented slats on the center to help keep the computer cool, plus a place on the right for my mouse. That helps reduce the strain of using the touch pad all the time. Another nice feature is how the tray angles. It's adjustable so I can lean back and still have a good view of the screen.

I just made a new pot of tea. My covers are warm, the cat's on my pillow and it's time to get to work.

I love my job.

Goodbye to Christmas

The tree is coming down. The decorations are getting put away, until we take them out again at Thanksgiving. Each year brings its own blessings and memories. Christmas has always been about the kids.

It's sad to say goodbye to Christmas, even in March. It was important to Michelle to have the Christmas decorations up when she got home. Nothing says home like Christmas.

I hope everyone enjoyed it, even at Valentine's Day. I know I did.














Ah, Christmas. It's three months past and I'm still sad to see it go. It means goodbye to my kiddos for another bit of time. But next year is already here and the holidays are only months away!

Andy was equally sad to take down the tree. We put it up at Thanksgiving just after he arrived and it's been up ever since. He wasn't sure what to do.

Just Daffy

Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze...
~William Wordsworth














My goat pen came alive the other day, and just keeps bursting.
All along the edge and through the woods, these yellow angels appear.

I hopped a couple of fences to see how far they went and couldn't help thinking of Scotland, where the hillsides are also full of this wonder.













My neighbors surely think I'm nuts - a 53 year old woman jumping fences and lying on the ground to take pictures of weeds.

And that's why you love me. :-)

Must work, must work

I need to concentrate. I keep getting distracted by the animals, my email, and all the pictures taken over the last 3 weeks. My head hurts and I'm sleepy. I think I need Diet Coke.

I'm enjoying all the pictures, that's my main distraction today. But looking at them makes me miss everyone more. It's not easy missing my kids.
And, I'm mad at myself for not getting more pictures of everyone - especially that all inclusive family photo I meant to take.

Did you see that great photo of Annie and Stevie?













I need to close iPhoto so I'm not constantly looking at my albums. That way I won't be tempted to browse my picture collection every five minutes. I have work to do. It's work, not looking at these pictures.

Must work, must work...

Happy Hamster

You may recall that I love pets. Especially when I'm lonely. Pets satisfy a small bit of my need to care for someone and give companionship.

I have a new pet, a little brown hamster. I got him from Google.














Hamster is a Google Gadget and lives on my iGoogle page. He is quite useless, although I continually think how adorable this electronic creature really is.

He runs on his wheel and waits for me to feed him. He takes naps. When I click in his cage it drops food pellets for him to nibble. If I drop a bunch of them, he takes a drink of water then jumps back on the wheel.

The best part is, no wood shavings to clean out. His water bottle is always mysteriously full. He doesn't smell and no one has to feed him when I go out of town, because he travels with me. Also, the cat cannot kill him.

I like this hamster. If I could, I'd squeeze him - but then, there might not be any more hamster, so I guess dropping food pellets for him will have to do.

Precious Artwork

All over my house I have artwork. Not gaudy, overpowering artwork but pieces I think are elegant and tasteful. Some of my artwork is handmade (like my Vietnam embroidery pictures), some are paintings, and some are photographs. Each piece means something to me, for one reason or another. For me personally, I like to have something on my walls that holds meaning, as well as something elegant that creates a mood.

In China Michelle has a friend who takes photographs. On Michelle's wall is a photo he took in Shanghai, of a Zongzi cart, a Chinese tamale, more or less. It's such a lovely photo that I asked for a copy. It reminds me of my visit to China, of Michelle and of Lucas, the photographer whom I enjoyed meeting. The photograph goes with my slightly Asian dining room theme, and includes the colors I love.












In my middle bedroom I have two precious photographs of Ethan, both in Sepia tone, one as a toddler on the beach,









the other holding my firstborn kid (Ada) of last spring.













William gave me a photograph of Bonnie Rose's feet, which I think I'll put on another bedroom wall.










Sunday, someone took a photo of Allie, enjoying the outdoors and Nana's grassy garden. I thought it was so precious, and added this one to the collection adorning my bedroom walls.



These photos will hopefully enhance the mood of the rooms where I put them. Plus, each time I see them I'll think of our beautiful babies.
I sure do love them.

Separation anxiety

Andy hates suitcases. Every time he sees someone packing he gets severely depressed.

I don't blame him. Goodbye's are terrible things.

Andy loves having his kids at home. They're his kids, and each time they arrive he runs like wild through the house greeting them.

On Michelle's last night we spent long, late hours trying to get everything into the suitcases. Andy was not happy. He stood there, ears down, tail between his legs, watching Michelle pack. We finally decided to lie down for an hour before dressing to leave. Andy did the same - in the baby's car seat. We found him when we got up and he wouldn't get out. We ended up having to dump the car seat over to make him get up. I guess he thought, the longer he stayed in there, the longer Michelle and the baby would stay at home.













Poor doggy. He wouldn't even go outside with us, like usual, when we packed up the car. I guess that was his way not to say goodbye.

When I got home from the airport he greeted me with his tail and ears drooping, not his usual excitement. Every day last week, every time we went out, then returned, he'd run and jump and slide all over the floor to greet us. I guess he feared this day each time we left. He's very sad today, with the house so quiet. All his kids are gone.

I won't talk about how I feel. The dog's doing a good job of that.

GREAT Grey hunter

Michelle was packing around 11:30 PM, when we heard the cat come through the doggie door. Then we heard this funny sort of gurgled meow, not a typical one from Bailey. Michelle asked, "What was that?"

"It sounds like Bailey is calling me," I said. So Michelle went to look.

"She has a creature!" Michelle whined, and pointed toward the cat.

What is it about cats? I wonder why they instinctively have to show off their catch-of-the-day. The mole wasn't harmed, no blood, no punctures, nothing visible, other than it was dead. She was cradling it between her paws, looking at it in adoration. I had to take it away from her, more like taking a gift, so she wouldn't get mad at me. I didn't want her to think she was in trouble.

Cats do horrible things when they get mad at their masters - especially when they're trying to show off and don't get enough praise. Michelle remembered that too, and suggested I give her a treat.

Good idea! I threw out the mole then got the kitty treats. Bailey galloped to the kitchen. Afterward, she spread herself out proudly on the floor and preened.

She's doing her job, but why does the hunter have to bring that stuff in the house!

I hope you don't mind, I opted out of the picture on this, even though the mole was ever-so cute.

Cousins

Bonita Rose loves the outdoors. Sunday was the perfect spring day and she enjoyed watching her cousins play.



Especially Alyssa. Bonita is enthralled with Alyssa Mae. I admit, I am too, Alyssa IS pretty entertaining, especially when multitasking.















On Sunday afternoon Bonita Rose got to play with her littlest cousin, Alora.

We're all a bit amazed at the resemblance between Bonita Rose and Alora Janel. I know they'll change as they grow but right now they look so much alike, it's a little eerie. You'd think they were closely related or something.



Michelle and the baby have been here from the end of winter through the start of spring. Sunday was so warm, the kids played outdoors and enjoyed the sunshine. Even the dog had fun. He loves his kids, every one of them.

Family Lunch

Through my kids' growing up years, they always thought their only relatives were on the Coleman side. I admit, I even thought that myself for a while. This week has been a fun week for all of us, visiting old family and friends, plus meeting and visiting with new ones.

This area holds some of our family history. My mother lived here as a child, my grandparents courted and married here. This is where my side of the family started. Much of my grandfather's family still lives here, which is how we came to find this community.














Sunday was a day to visit family. My cousin, Janna, brought her family over for lunch, and what a treat for us all. It feels great discovering a family connection, that's probably what makes this place feel so much like home.

Janna, Joe and family made it an extra special last day in the States for Michelle. She got to meet her cousins Hannah and Ben for the first time, and had a chance to have Joe introduce the guitar to Bonnie Rose. All the kids were mesmerized by him. I think Joe must be slightly magical.

Mealtime is best when all silverware is discarded.

Oh Alyssa, you are SO cute!

Cheater

I cheat.

Don't judge me too harshly, at least I don't cheat on tests, my husband, or taxes. I have, however, been known to cheat on my diet.

I do cheat on games - not games like Monopoly or Poker. No, the kind of cheating I do is entirely electronic.













Michelle came in to my office the other day and saw this little note on my desk. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the note.

"Oh, that's my cheat for getting 30,000 bells from Tom Nook." It was a matter-of-fact answer, doesn't everyone use a cheat at one time or another?

Michelle knew exactly what I was talking about. I have a few games I play on the Game Cube. One of those games is Animal Crossing. If I get stuck and want some quick cash in the game, I can type in this code.

Michelle just shook her head at me, then snapped this picture.

"My mother!" she said.

I wonder what she meant by that?

YeahYeah

Alyssa's a girl who knows what she wants - and she sure knows how to express it.

Some of us could take lessons.

Bread for breakfast

For my last birthday Katie brought me a bunch of gluten free foods - pasta, honey-nut cereal, bread mix and brownies. I hadn't had honey-nut cereal in years, and although those foods weren't a successful addition to my South Beach menu, it sure has been enjoyable eating those tasty treats. You aren't hearing me complaining, not even a little.

When I went to China I took Michelle a suitcase full of gluten free bread mix and brownie mix. Michelle had the same reaction - good for the tummy she said - and baked a loaf of bread while in labor.

For those of us who are gluten challenged, these things are great gifts. I love edible gifts; you never have to figure out where to hang them and you don't have to secretly re-gift. No matter what they are, edible gifts get eaten, especially in this family.

Today I made Michelle a loaf of bread, this box from Miriam. I hadn't made this particular type before, the French Bread mix by Gluten Free Pantry. It's pretty good, especially when topped with Pumpkin Butter from Loveless Cafe.

Yum!

Babies are like puppies

When the kids were little I sometimes listened to the local radio station that played a lot of James Dobson talks. He was entertaining and often had decent parenting advice.

Of all the times I heard him speak, the most memorable thing he ever said was how much his children and his dachshund were alike. That always cracked me up - mainly because it's so true and so many people got so bent out of shape about him saying it.

Dobson's dog often displayed childish characteristics. He'd tell stories about how his pet tried to manipulate him and what he had to do as a form of 'discipline' for that dog. He'd tell about his puppy's need for attention, and how the dog desired to please him. His stories were amusing, and yet he got across the points he meant to convey. You can tell that because, after all these years, I still remember those silly stories.

Family pets can teach us a lot about children. Pets need nurturing, not only food and water, just like a baby needs. Pets (especially dogs) grow to learn things about us and read our moods, much like our children do. They look to us for everything and feel neglected easily. Just like a child.

The way a person treats a pet can often tell how that person will develop as a parent. Pets are a wonderful way to gradually move into the world of parenting, because taking care of a pet - not just feeding and watering them - can teach someone how to care for another living being. The show of affection, praise, spending time, listening, these are all things both pets, and people, desire. Not just caring for physical needs.

And yes, I DO listen to my pets.

Personally, I spoil my pets. I'm not ashamed of that. I'll also admit to spoiling my kids. Oh yes, they did get their share of discipline (you can ask Luke or Michelle to verify that). But I loved listening to my children, too. They often had very insightful things to say.

I may not be the perfect parent, but at least I enjoy nurturing something. I also enjoy the benefits gained as a result.

Pets, like babies, are wonderful gifts. It's just that, at least IMHO, babies are a bit more wonderful (but don't tell the dog I said so).

Hay there

I'm no body builder. I really dislike going to the gym or doing a daily exercise regimen. It's not the exertion I dislike, it's the fact that, when I'm finished with a workout, the house is still dirty, the lawn still needs to be mowed and the trash is still waiting to go to the dump.

I relish hard work, I enjoy getting getting dirty, and I really like to sweat. It sounds strange saying that, since I'm basically lazy.

After all, it's true that my favorite past-time is lying around in my pajamas, drinking tea and playing video games.

One of the more exerting things I like to do is haul hay. I like driving my old truck through town, hay piled high over the cab. I like pulling in behind the feed shed and climbing up into the truck bed to yank the hay to the ground. I like how it feels to carry each bale and stack it neatly in the shed, three or four bales high, then watching the cats climb all over it.

And I really like saying that, when I'm all finished carrying hay, I've just hauled 800 pounds of feed - by myself - and put it all away. Not only did I get a little exercise, I accomplished a task while doing it.

I think I deserve an hour or two in my pajamas, playing my favorite video game... now which game will it be tonight?

Uncle Joe

Who's the uncle kids love, who lights up the room and makes a kid feel welcome, even special? He understands babies and talks to them, plays with them and makes them laugh. He's not afraid to be silly for the sake of making a kid happy. I had an uncle like that for a while. Now, Alyssa, Alora, Ethan and Bonnie Rose have one too.

This is my cousin Janna and hubby Joe Smith. Joe's acquired title is Uncle Joe because cousin Joe just sounds funny.

Besides, everyone needs an Uncle Joe.













Our Uncle Joe doesn't move all that slow, but makes a bee-line for the little ones. You can tell he really loves babies. They can tell, too.

Uncle Joe has other talents, like playing the guitar and singing (see July 1 post, Irish Picnic). I bet Bonnie Rose is really going to like that, she loves music. Although I'm pretty sure it won't make her like Uncle Joe any better than she already does.
She seems pretty happy just to be in his arms.