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Tuesday, April 24, 2012

8 Months and Spring Cuts

     Some days I swear the minute hand on my wall clock drags along in earnest time with the drudgery of scrubbing pots, wiping noses, kissing tears away( this of course is not so bad), and scrubbing crusty dried stains out of our Sunday best. However one glance at the calendar and I wonder what worm hole has sucked up my sweet baby and left me with rolls of chubby laughter and over-eager hands. 

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8 months and counting...



I can ALMOST crawl, but refuse to try.
I love green beans, even though my brothers never have.
I've discovered yelling gets what I want quicker.
I'm attached to mommy and mommy is okay with that.
I love tickles under my chin.
I'm fascinated by the cat. Mommy hopes to use the unsuspecting cat as crawling motivation!!!
 I still enjoy 2 naps a day.
No teeth yet.
Everything goes straight in my mouth for quality testing.
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Big brothers received their warm weather hair cuts recently, but I'm wondering if I lopped off their hair too soon. The cooler nights have returned, but there is loads of sunshine during the day to keep there heads warm and their browning hands busy.



Busy digging up worms and moving weeds. Busy kicking the soccer ball around and chasing after furry friends with wagging tongues. Busy digging in the cool sand scattered across my porch instead of in the sand box. Busy jumping on the trampoline and showing off new boo-boos. Busy being boys.



Friday, April 13, 2012

Mangy Love

 We have pets. I guess I'd admit we're a pet family.
There... I've said "out loud." Sheesh, Glad I can finally admit it! ;)
Honestly I won't feel complete if we didn't have something mangy and flea ridden to feed and complain about. At this point,  Rugged Artist and I can mark our years of marriage based on Dakota, the husky mix. We valiantly rescued him from a shelter a couple of months after we were blissfully wed and he has survived suburbia, the country, 2 other dogs, and an assortment of chickens and guineas.
 Now lets skip to last fall, Autumn 2011. Around the arrival of Daniel, we noticed a particularly forgettable dog across the street. That quickly went from "oh that's a stray" to "he's fighting with our dogs again" to "Hun, I think the dog is running down the slide with the boys." Needless to say, He has been a permanent resident ever since. He even acquired a name and a collar as is fitting of all family pets. I dubbed him Charlie and his nick-name is slue foot.
 I can't pinpoint the time Charlie became our pet, but it was sometime after he waltzed into my kitchen uninvited one day and "marked" my bookcase. Folks, It was time to set some ground rules after that.
So today as I was attempting to plant flowers and barring my teeth at the deeply rooted weeds, I became quite bothered with him(no surprise there). Charlie has NO SENSE OF PERSONAL SPACE. He firmly insists on physical contact anytime your hand/face is within reach of him. I didn't need an excuse to stop pulling weeds, but I was happy to indulge the overly happy mangy animal for a bit.
 As I sat back on the porch and bonded with our my adopted pal, I realized we had no crazy birds nesting, no sign of a nest for that matter. Then it dawned on me. This full size puppy has always entertained us with his fascination with bees and birds. He is constantly chasing them at full speed. He has no clue he can't catch the bird perched high on a tree limb. He doesn't seem to mind the burning of a bee sting on his tongue either. Instead he delights in the chase. Through these simple moments ,he has run-off potential porch squatters, something I am QUITE happy to accept. I guess you can say he has earned his keep.
 I know one day soon his puppy-isms will begin to calm and the birds may return to bomb my porch. But for now his spastic tail and enthusiastic desire to be loved and to shower love on our children is thriving with force!

Charlie

Monday, April 9, 2012

Helpers Come in all Sizes and so do Weeds

     I have finally begun the horrendous process of de-weeding my flower beds. We live near old cow pastures and apparently the generational weeds are quite stubborn and unrelenting. Not to mention our dogs feel the need to rearrange the strategically placed plants to make a cool dirt bed for frequent naps.  

     Today the weather beckoned me outside and I felt compelled to make the most of a glorious day among the deep rooted greens in my flowering bulbs. Samuel is mostly past napping and was glad to be outside tromping and pulling and scraping alongside his momma. HE got the bright idea to utilize his toys to assist me.  I hired him on the spot!



I pulled the mobs of weeds up and tossed them in a bucket.


 Samuel took the bucket and dumped it in his Loader bucket.


He brought the bucket back to me and hopped on his UN-MOTORIZED pedaling loader and took off for the "dump pile."



He does a pretty nice 3 point turn-a-round if I do say so myself.


Here is the weed pile slowing growing from his patient persistent work.


I'd say he is all tuckered out, but I'm inside taking a water break and he is back on his tracker working. This is just a completed corner I'm showing off! Please note the lovely ground cover surrounding one of my flower pots?? Well that's a weed. W-E-E-D. However, it has pretty flowers and chokes out other weeds, so it has won its rightful place among the store bought lovelies.