Life goes on ...

Life continues to go on without Gary at home.

My roses have started to bloom. I LOVE that!

Jake is still a chicken "farmer". He LOVES his rooster (Big Tom) and carries it around with him every chance he gets. Don't worry though, he makes sure to wrap it up in one of my good towels ... just in case.


And Keaton continues to amaze us with his athletic ability. Today he brought home a trophy from football practice. It's actually a Softball trophy (he doesn't play softball) ... with a girl on it (he's clearly NOT a girl) ... awarded to somebody in 2007. But when he saw it in the trash can, he just couldn't pass it up. Atta boy Keaton ... you make us proud!

LDS General Conference Weekend -

Remember back when we had cool prophets on the Earth ... like Moses? Well guess what! Our current prophet, some apostles and other inspiring church leaders are going to be speaking to us this weekend! Yep, it's super cool.

If you aren't Mormon, and you're curious about what a Prophet looks like and what he might say to us during some ridiculously tumultuous times ... look here for a schedule of opportunities to tune in and listen Saturday & Sunday ... in the comforts of your own family rooms! You can even watch it on your computers ... here!

Open your hearts & your minds ... and let me know what you think about it all.

I LOVE conference weekend! Boo yah!

My plumber is gone -

About eight minutes ago, Gary left. In this economy, when a plumber is offered work, you get in the truck and drive ... even if it takes you to Wichita, Kansas. He'll be gone for several days and I'll be here. I love his work ethic and I'm trying to stay positive. So here are some things that might make the distance work for me.

1. I think we're going to be eating VERY simple meals.
2. I am going to be sprawling out and taking up the entire bed.
3. I'm not too worried about lipstick applications.
4. Wait a minute, I never really do #3 anyway.
5. The bathroom might stay a bit cleaner.
6. Wait a minute, I'm the dirty one.
7. At least I have #'s 1 & 2.

Arrogant authority makes me mad -

I remember when I was in the sixth grade. I had my tonsils out and it all went bad. I hemorrhaged and had to get back to the hospital. My Dad got me there very quickly and I remember seeing the red lights that he disregarded to get me there.

Sometimes, we are emergency vehicles. Sometimes, it is imperative that we use our own judgment as we verify the safety of those around us.

This story makes me furious ... and I would have done exactly the same thing.

“Hey, that’s the nurse,” the Plano officer told Powell. “She said that the mom’s dying right now, and she’s wanting to know if they can get him up there before she dies.”

“All right,” Powell replied. “I’m almost done.”

Idiot.

Family Night -

We had a fence that was no longer fencing things in ...

The wood planks were warped and the missing piece provided a simple escape for the chihuahuas. It looked sad and we needed to get to work.

So for family night, we all gathered together and created a small factory in the backyard. We each had our own assignments. I tried to assign myself to be the videographer of the event, but the gang objected and handed me bolts, washers and nuts.

A couple of hours later, after the boys were distracted for a period of time by apple pie & ice-cream that Adam Dick and girlfriend brought over ... the job was finally complete.

A few splinters.

Lots of sawdust.

Much better.

Five boys that fart ...

I was never allowed to say the word fart while I was growing up. If we were referring to passing gas, we would say "Who let a tooter?" Now that I'm older, this seems like a rule for the very proper and possibly even elite, which strikes me as odd since we had a live pig roaming free in our kitchen (true story). So I am going to say the word fart a lot in this post since I was deprived as a child.

Anyway, all of my boys (four that I birthed and one that I married) seem to be especially gross and gassy lately. Last night, Jake and Garrison both came in, jumped on my bed, farted in unison and laughed hysterically. I didn't see the humor in it. I'm not sure if I was more irritated with the smell or that they were disturbing my down time. They were quickly escorted out of my bedroom and the door was locked behind them.

So I have two questions.

1. Do all boys just fart all the time?

2. Were you allowed to say fart growing up?

P.S. Immediately after posting this, my twelve-year-old was heard around the entire house farting into a microphone. In no way, shape or form was this a tooter ... or windy. It was a fart. Sick.

The flock

It all started with one chicken, which turned out to be a rooster ... and now we have seven of these little guys to add to the feathered friend (I'm trying really hard to be friends with that manic cockadoodle doo er). We now have a flock. What are we doing you ask? I have no idea. We make things up as we go along ... just like Indiana Jones.