Looking Back at April

Shannon started his first year of rec soccer. This was his first game. I apologize for the poor photo quality, I was playing with a new camera, but you can see him there ~ he's the one with the ball.
He also lost his first top front tooth this month. We've finally come to the stages of big, goofy gaps in grins.

Eggs! These were the eggs we actually colored for Easter, something we haven't done in several years since ours are naturally colored. It was a fun experiment.
Here are our current Egg Tallies:

March 2011 - 97 eggs
April 2011 - 82 eggs
Year to Date (as of the end of April) - 349 eggs!

This month has been good egg wise as it is the first month since we've EVER had chickens where ALL our gals laid an egg on the same day. That happened twice this month. Pretty cool.
The general vibe about chickens continues to be positive, and that's making life a lot nicer. We may even look into placing another order of the "What the Cluck" t-shirts as we've had some inquiries about them.

The gardens have begun blooming and we've tried something new this year: selling some home raised plants! Most of them are heirloom varieties and, of course, they're raised 'organically.' I suppose legally I can't use that word since they aren't certified organic, but we grow the all naturally, without chemicals, even using collected rainwater as often as we can to water them. We've sold a lot of our tomatoes, the peppers are still coming in & we have some spoken for already, and the feedback has been really good. It will definitely be something we do next year too.
The best part of this is that it makes me feel like a true urban homesteader now. Obviously we're not able to completely live off of what we grow, but what we grow helps sustain us greatly and now it is even providing us with a little bit of income. Plus, it is wonderful to be able to get to meet new people as we have when we've sold the plants. Absolutely fantastic!

Finally, there was the last day of April, and the 60th Annual Ernest "Pig" Robertson Fishing Rodeo. This is our third year and, like previous years it was full of calamities. Broken lines, a broken pole, and so on. However, unlike previous years, this year both Shannon and Tristan caught a trout. Shannon had actually caught a second one, but as we were reeling it in and trying to get it out of the water, the line broke. We fished for a while longer with no success. Justin's parents were there (also an annual tradition) and, just as we were beginning to get ready to leave, Bill noticed a trout just kinda hanging out where we had our caught ones on the hooks in the water. Justin deftly swooped it up in the net!! It turns out the one that got away didn't get very far, and so we went home with 3 trout.

April also went out with a bang. Justin turned 30 and his party was last night. Needless to say it was a very good one. Full of good food, good drinks, and, most importantly, good friends.

We certainly are looking forward with hope and happiness.

Tales of the Sleepy Husband

The Saga Continues.


I come to bed. Justin is out cold, still wearing his pants. Here is how the conversation went:

Me, probably had to smack him a bit to get him to wake up enough to hear me: You fell asleep with your pants on.

Justin: We laid the fart down on the way in.

Me, apparently not too amused: Well, take off your pants!

Justin: Not me, but SPARTAN.



uh-huh.....

Tales of the Sleepy Husband

PROLOGUE

(warning: for those faint of ear or delicate in nature, you may not want to read these stories)

My darling husband has a very well-known reputation for passing out. Hard. This doesn't just occur when he's been drinking either, though it is true that the most notorious of tales to come to pass after a night of imbibing various concoctions.
We began our journey together as good friends. Immediately very close, Justin would often crash at my place 5 nights out of the week, either on the couch or in the second bedroom. Spending so much time with him allowed me to learn his mannerisms better than anyone else. It allowed my a chance to get to know how to deal with him when he passed out.

Lest you think I am by nature mean and evil, out to take advantage of a poor passed out fellow, let me give a little more detail. When Justin begins nodding off his eyes will close and his head will bob. He will suddenly jerk back to life and say something random with great emphasis. Which if you know Justin you will know is a sign of something as he is normally a quiet chap.
Once he is out, you can have your way with him.

When we were just friends the most I would ever do during these nodding off times was remove his keys from his pockets. We had a deal: if I could get his keys out of his pants pockets then he would admit he was too drunk to drive. *Safety First Y'all*

When we became a couple it became more of an issue to me to try and make sure he made it to bed. Why not let him just stay where he lay?? Well, he also had a little habit of getting up, wandering to another room, and .. well .. taking a piss. This is something that is rather humorous when you're not in a relationship with the person, but when you are and you are faced with having to clean up the mess .. well, a little bit of the humor tends to fade away. (In all fairness to him, it has been many years since he has done this, and it didn't happen all that often. But a couple times can still be a couple times too many)
He also was known to wake up and decide that he needed another drink or worse, that he was hungry. Bowls and plates of random foods would await me in the morning: ranch dip & veggies left out, cheese balls and chili, random Mexican-esque food concoctions (which sadly resemble what you might buy at most Mexican-esque restaurants), a pot of mac & cheese on the stove, or just noodles, cooked & forgotten about.
Getting him to bed was just much easier.
So, I would approach his passed-out ass and try to wake him to go to bed.

"Honey" I would nudge him gently.

No response.

"Justin, you've passed out, it's bed time." I would nudge him some more.

No response.

"JUSTIN!!!"

No response.

"JUSTIN, WAKE-UP DAMMIT!!!" I am yelling and shaking him.

No response.

I hold his nose shut. His mouth drops open .. he has out-smarted me. I give him a wet willy.




He wakes up and yells at me that he is NOT passed out.



And then promptly passes back out on the couch with the dog.

To wake him up, and I swear I really tried everything else first, I have to slap him as hard as I can across the face. I swear that this is the only way to get him to even BEGIN waking up enough to go to bed. I have witnesses to this fact. Several.

Once he gets to bed he often talks. Randomly. Very randomly. Back when we were just friends I walked out into the living room late one night/early one morning. He was passed out on the couch. I heard him giggling. And I mean school-girl giggling. In his sleep. Suddenly he said "pussy" and then began giggling like a little school-girl again, and then fell back into his deep slumber.

And so this is how the Tales of the Sleepy Husband have come to pass. When you see photos of him dick-faced (drawn on) know that rules apply: 1)he didn't go to bed, 2)I gave him warnings that he was falling asleep and needed to go to bed or else would be dick-faced, & 3)he didn't go to bed.
Mostly though these will be tales of the random things that come falling out of his mouth. I've taken to keeping a notebook and pen beside the bed for just these moments. Much to his dismay I've also taken to video taping some of these ... but for now I will likely be kind enough to not share those.

This will be an ongoing series of tales until someone pays me mightily to put them all together in a book.

The Totem Pole

In the animal world, or at least the canine & chicken world, there is a definite pecking order, a totem pole of how the animals view the alpha order of the pack. This is a record of Foster's view of our pack.


Top of the Totem: Mommy

~ I am pretty certain this is similar to how I look to the dog.~

Mommy has secured her place at the top of the totem pole. She is MOMMY and she is to be obeyed, at least most of the time. That would be a similar view point the kids hold as well.
However, since I am still a puppy I still want Mommy's undivided attention. No-one else may love on Mommy because Mommy loves only me. If someone else tries to love on Mommy then I must throw a fit and try to get Mommy's attention by biting at her. I am a Mommy's boy.
Mommy also gives me more treats than Daddy, including knowing that I like extra goodies in with my meals.

Next on the Totem Pole: Daddy

Daddy ranks #2 on the Totem Pole. See how serious and mean he looks?? He doesn't let me on the bed. He doesn't give me treats on my food. I don't bring him toys. I still love him though.
I've even been practicing how to sit on the couch like Daddy. He used to not let me do this, but now that I'm learning to get my butt fully on there (with my front paws on the floor) he seems to like it.
Daddy sometimes likes to think he is head of the totem pole but we all know that Mommy rules the roost.


Up Next: THE PUPPIES

There are three puppies in our house. Here is the order in which I see them.

Head Puppy: ME!

Of course I am HEAD PUPPY. The other puppies don't know how to be head puppy. I have to tell them what to do. I don't think it is fair that the other puppies get to be on the bed and I don't though. That is just wrong.

Middle Puppy: Shannon

Shannon sometimes thinks he is head puppy and sometimes he thinks he is the baby. This makes him Middle Puppy. I think Shannon needs to be taught how to behave properly and, as head puppy, it is my job to teach him. Shannon doesn't like this. Neither does Mommy. Or Daddy. They just don't know that, as Head Puppy, I HAVE to do this. See how silly he acts?? He is not acting like a proper Mastiff.
He does help Mommy out though. Today he even held our pet rabbit Logan after he finished giving her food. Of course I had to make sure he held her properly so I stayed nearby, nosing at Logan to make sure she was held securely.
I like Shannon though. He has cool toys. He has legos and cars and trains and trucks. I like playing with them. But Shannon acts like a baby and cries when I try to. I just don't get it, but I do know this is another reason why he can't be head puppy.

And Finally, the Baby Puppy: Tristan

Tristan is the baby puppy. See how he has stuff in his mouth?? I do that too but I get scolded for it. Tristan gets scolded too, but he still does it.
Since Tristan is the baby puppy it is my upmost responsibility, as Head Puppy of course, to make sure he is ok. When he walks through the house I have to make sure he doesn't fall over, so I have to constantly wrap myself around him and lean against him, securing him with my strength. I do such a good job of this that he usually stops in his tracks and yells for Mommy or Daddy to come help him walk. Babies don't know how to walk on their own.
When Tristan climbs onto Mommy and Daddy's bed I really worry about him. I have to nose at him to make sure he gets up there, sometimes even guide his feet with my mouth. He doesn't appreciate this. Babies rarely appreciate all the things you do to keep them safe. Mommy doesn't always appreciate it either and sometimes yells at me for it. She yells at Shannon when he tries to help out sometimes too. Mommy is a little crazy.
I also have to make sure he is tucked in securely when he goes to bed for naps and at night. I nose him all over. He sure must be fussy at bed time because he tends to cry about this. I guess he is just tired. Babies get tired easily and they cry when they're tired. It's ok, as Head Puppy I understand these things.
Tristan has lots of neat toys too. He has stuffed animals that I really like, including a little stuffed dog. He has cars and trains and toys like Shannon's too. And, like Shannon, he acts like a baby when I try to play with them. They don't like sharing their toys with me, this is why I am Head Puppy and they're the babies.

This is my family. I love them a lot.

A Magical Yule Beginning

Unless you live under a rock you are aware of the total Lunar Eclipse that occurred in the wee hours of the morning, which is also the Winter Solstice. This hasn't happened in 372 years (1638) and won't happen again until 2094. Since you are reading this, you obviously don't live under a rock (and if you do, I am very impressed by your wireless server!).

The boys and I spent yesterday learning a little bit about lunar eclipses. Basically they learned that it is caused by the Earth casting a shadow on the Moon because the Earth is between the Sun & Moon. Shannon will be 7 in January & Tristan is 4 1/2. I don't expect them to grasp much more of this, especially since I had to look up the info to be certain of what I was telling them.
We also talked about how long it has been since the last total Lunar Eclipse occurred on the Winter Solstice and how long it will be until the next one. I told them that, if they're lucky, they might be alive to view the next one. I tried to explain why Justin & I wouldn't and how nobody on our planet now was alive for the last one. Those were more difficult concepts for them to grasp.



Shannon found a scrap piece of paper yesterday and created this for me, without me being near/over him or knowing what he was creating. This is what I love about homeschooling & unschooling.

We went outside last night, and like so many people saw only clouds. Although we would've love to seen the actually Moon & eclipse, we weren't saddened. We still woke up the boys and, with them in our arms, wandered out onto our deck to gaze at the reddish sky for a while. It was beautiful. Magical. Dark. Softly glowing red. The air filled our lungs and bodies. We knew so many other people were outside, gazing up with us, and we felt connected to them all. A sense of awe spread through us. We felt loved and whole.

I am saddened to read comments on Facebook this morning of disgruntled people who also saw the clouds but didn't see the beauty. There is a saying 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' and I suppose this holds true now. You can look upwards and still not see the beauty.

The Winter Solstice also marks the beginning of Yule. Different people celebrate this in different ways. It is an ancient celebration that has, like so many other ancient ways, been melded into modern celebrations. From now until the 1st of January will be the 12 days of the Yule celebration, more commonly now known as the 12 days of Christmas.

Holiday songs fill my head right now. Particularly I have James Taylor singing 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' playing in my head. I will share it with you.



Whatever you choose to celebrate, if you choose to celebrate, know that we are all connected. As we stood outside and breathed in the night air, we felt our breathes in sync with all of you.

Happy Yule Y'all.

The Dreadie Experience

Eight years ago I got the idea to dreadlock my hair. I had really wanted dreads for a while, and I loved dreads on other people. I had just met Justin that Summer and we were quickly becoming very close buds. He had dreads, gorgeous long dreads, and that only made me want dreads even more.
So I trusted a friend who assured me that she had put in dreads for several people to put in my dreads. Unfortunately, they .. to say it nicely .. weren't done quite as nicely as I would've hoped. They were kinda hideous. But I loved having dreads. After the mess was done I began doing research and finding sites about dreadlocks. ~ Lesson Learned - ALWAYS do your research FIRST!!! That, and if you're interested in dreadlocks do yourself a favor and head over to http://www.dreadheadhq.com - they've got lots of info & products to help you out!

Anyway, eight years later and the bug bites again. Actually make that 6 or 7 years later as I did a friend's dreads a year or so ago and that put the seed of desire in. My brother in law was growing out his hair with the intention of putting in dreads and so we agreed to do each other's dreadlocks when our hair was long enough.

A year or two later, he's cut his hair off and I decide I simply can't wait until my hair is long "enough". ~ For those not familiar with dreads, your hair can & will shrink up .. a lot!~
So I talked it over with Justin. I talked it over with a good friend. I had made up my mind and just needed a little reassurance (don't want a bangs crisis on my hands, ya know?). Since we had court on November 23rd (blog on that coming soon), we agreed it would be wise to wait until after that.
I made an appointment to have my hair sectioned into roughly 1" squares by my hair stylist. This could've easily been done at home but I thought I'd spare Justin the hassle and reassure myself that we were starting with a good base. I also ordered the following from DreadHeadHQ: locking accelerator, dreadlock shampoo, lock peppa (the best stuff EVER!!!), a loose tool (for wrangling in loose hairs), a dreadlock comb, and tiny rubber bands for the initial sectioning. Justin and I each had our wax leftover from our previous dreadie days so I was all set there.

I also ordered a crocheted headband off of an awesome gal at etsy. Since I don't have a photo of me in the headband yet, I'll just give you this link to it on her page: http://www.etsy.com/listing/62285081/confetti-colored-headband-dreadband-hair?ref=pr_shop (Thank you Grace!! I LOVE my headband!)

So .. here is a photo journey of my dreadie adventure so far:

This is me, pre-dreads. Obviously this photo was taken over the Summer. I'm not exactly wearing tank tops in this chilly weather!! Anyway, this is pretty much what my hair was looking like before the dreads.
I didn't get a photo of my hair sectioned off before we began dreading it. I should've, it looked pretty silly. ~ Dreadie Lesson ~ Be prepared to look downright goofy at times. ~

Here I am, partially dreaded. In this photo I look more dreaded than I am, but if you look closely you'll see a lot of it is just sectioned off hair. This photo was taken on Black Friday.

The back of my head on Black Friday. You can really see that most of it is just sectioned off hair.
Saturday morning. Remember the stated Dreadie Lesson above?? You're gonna look goofy at times. Just try to own it and you'll get through it.

My dreads are skinny and little, which looks better (at least on me) than trying to start out with big, phatty dreads. It also means that dreadlocking takes a LOT of time. Admittedly we did take a long time-out for the Tech/UVA game on Saturday, but we didn't finish until late Saturday night. Justin put in most all of my dreads, and at final count/estimate I have between 70 & 75 dreadlocks on my head now.


Finally done, November 27th.

From the back they're looking real good. We were both proud & impressed.

And here I am, a dreadie Mama Taney. I can not begin to adequately express my gratitude to Justin for spending the hours it took to put these babies in. I am eternally grateful, even if my head was sore as hell afterwards. I'm especially grateful because I know he'll be there to help me maintain them along the way. Dreads are a journey. I'm officially on day 2 of that journey.

PS ~ My ultra-cool and supportive mother (who not-so-secretly hates dreads) gave me a dreadie bead for my recent birthday. I put it in this morning. I love it. I love her for her support.

Optimism in the heat of Summer

This blog is dedicated to some optimistic friends, without whom I would cuss a lot more: Sadie (http://www.allnaturalme.com/), Cat, and Ryanne.

You've heard of 'Love in the time of Cholera', well this is kinda like that. But harder. I think. I haven't actually read all of the book. And I can't convince Justin to watch the movie. But it feels harder, so it is .. at least in my mind.
Like I noted in my last blog, Summer & I don't get along. So, it is especially difficult for me to be optimistic when I am sweating my ass off. --- Actually, I wish it were that easy. All this sweating and my ass ain't shrunk a bit!

But how can I possibly be optimistic with everything that is going on???

Well.....

*The clutter is SHEER LIVING HELL to be sure - actually, it isn't sheer, I can't see through it, I can't see a damn thing!! I can't turn around in this house without bumping into something. I can't find anything. I broke down into near tears because I couldn't find a saucepan, only to discover it was in the oven, which I thought I had looked in the other day -- apparently I either didn't look far enough into it or the gas fumes from me trying to put myself out of my suffering have fucked with my memory.
~But on the Bright Side ~ I am so fed up with the clutter this may well cure me of my cluttering ways. I am a clutter bug. And if it doesn't fully cure me it may well semi-cure me. Or maybe just cure me long enough to give the house a thorough organizing. Either way, it'll likely have a positive effect.

*After having lost the saucepan, and feeling like/knowing the house is a wreck, I have to admit to feeling like a complete failure as a housewife. Like I should be branded in the middle of town square and made to wear a scarlet letter 'F' or 'H' -- what fucking letter would you wear for that one??? Anyway.
~But on the Bright Side ~ Justin called me from Kroger's today. He couldn't find the aspirin. He said all they had was low dose. I assured him they had aspirin. Told him to look for something called "Buffrin" and that it was likely in a blue box. Then to look next to it for the generic stuff. He found it. Yes, I know I've gone through there a million times, unable to find something that I KNOW should be there, but explaining it to him made me feel better. Kinda like the time I had to walk him through how to use the Kitchen Aid mixer. Hopeless husbands make housewives feel accomplished. It's scientifically proven.

*The renovation is dragging on and on and on. I'm breaking out due to stress. The house is a wreck. I can't find anything. The kitchen is barely usable.
~But on the Bright Side ~ I can blame all the zits & break-outs, the insane clutter and mess of the house, all my stress, and my inability to have dinner ready on time on David Harmon .. aka the Magically Disappearing Contractor. And no-one argues with me. They pat me on the shoulder and offer sympathy & understanding.

*Foster, who turns 3 months old tomorrow & is almost as tall as our full-grown lab, and likely weighs close to 40lbs has out-grown his sleep-all-the-time puppy stage. He's now somewhere between the Toddler - 3 year old stage. He gets into EVERYTHING!! He brings plants in from outside. He has figured out how to unzip their eco-friendly dog beds, rip open the inside, and likes to chew on the "made from recycled plastic bottles" stuffing. -- Do I need to worry about BPA when he swallows that stuff??
~But on the Bright Side ~ His voice is beginning to deepen. If you've never heard a dog's voice start to drop, it is REALLY funny. Not as funny as the video clip of my little brother shrieking "STOP IT CARRIE!!" in a cracking voice, but still pretty damn funny. He also chases his tail, 'round and 'round and 'round. He trips. He slips and falls. He manages to sleep curled up around the toilet. He drools. He barks for food, sometimes just looking at the spot where is dish belongs and barking until we obey his commands. And, speaking of commands, he is learning them very well. And, he took his first full walk to the Farmer's Market today .. a little over a block away. Until now we've been having to drive there, get out and walk him around the market, and drive home. (English Mastiff pups aren't supposed to be walked very far when they're young because their bones & joints are growing so fast that, if they are exercised too much, you can damage them!) And, to top it off, he's still adorable as all get-out, so it makes up for him getting into everything.

*With everything else going on, the kids can quickly drive me up the wall. And I drive them up the wall. And they drive each other up the wall. My walls are full of tracks going up!!!
~But on the Bright Side ~ They love Tom Waitts song 'Big in Japan'.

They call it the "Silly Man Music" and will tend to, very randomly start singing it. Tristan originally would go through Kroger singing "Hey, but I'm Big in Your Pants" very loudly. It took a while to convince him it was "Japan" and not "in your pants". Misheard lyrics are twice as funny as the real ones.
Also, Shannon's learning to read has provided moments of peeing-in-pants laughter.

Shannon was reading this cup, from Outer Banks Brewery in NC, out loud. "Brewing, Cussing, Music." No, no Shannon, it's pronounced "Quiz-een" not "cussing." --- One day, when we open our brewery, I'm going to make that into a shirt - Brewing, Cussing, Music.

Here's to Optimism. And brewing, cussing, and music.

Mornings

Some mornings just slap you across the face, as soon as you wake up. That's my best photo of getting slapped in the face right now. I took it yesterday and call it "Justin getting Shadow Bitch-Slapped." I shouldn't have tempted karma like that.

Normally in the mornings the kids come and watch some Tom & Jerry cartoons on my bed, which gives me about 1/2 an hour to wake up some. I just really, REALLY need that time. This morning Shannon woke me up. He was already dressed and they wanted to go ahead and eat breakfast and watch Tom & Jerry in the kitchen. (I let them eat their cereal and watch cartoons. It allows me to usually get a shower without wondering what they're up to.) OK.
I get up, throw some pjs on, help Tristan get dressed and fix them their cereal. Then I fix the dogs their food.
I go back to my bedroom and do my morning sit-ups (look at that, I'm making a freakin' effort!) and start getting ready to take my shower. Shannon comes in the bedroom and asks "Mommy, can I go outside and play in the sandbox?" --- I'm standing there with no pants on (sorry for the visual image) and look at him dumbfounded. I tell him that I haven't even had my shower yet and no.
I go to take my shower. While I'm in there he comes in and asks if he can go play in the sandbox. "NO, I'm in the shower!!"
I turn off the water. Again he appears, asking if he can go play in the sandbox. I was still standing in the shower! "NO!!!!"
I inform him that he may NOT go play in the sandbox until after I've had my shower and am dressed and to NOT ask me ANYMORE, that I will tell him when he can. I head back to my bedroom to get dressed, shutting the bedroom door behind me.

I am dressed now (you're welcome), and I open the door. Shannon informs me that Tristan ate a dead worm off the sunroom floor. *LONG SIGH*
Yesterday, when I got him up from his nap, Tristan had this to say to me: Mommy, I have to tell you something. I am sorry I ate so much crunchy ants. And I'm sorry I ate so much crunchy sand. I'm sorry for both of those. ----- Note, I wasn't aware of either (though am not shocked either) nor was he being punished, this was out-of-the-blue.
Apparently this morning he's eating worms. They haven't been fried and more than likely the worm was a centipede of some sorts. I tell him not to do that, eating dead things off the floor can make you sick, and I contemplate what type of drink is going to restore my morning.

Since then I've gone out to hang laundry on the line, we've had a bathroom "issue" and near disaster, and Shannon has yet to stop talking.

I would think Karma has gotten me back for that photo of Justin.

Raise Your Mug

~That's right .. we camp in style, bitches~

Today is St. Patrick's Day. It is also Justin's and my 5th anniversary. It's funny how 5 years can fly by and, at the same time, feel like an eternity. They've been a great 5 years though, and I really do look forward to 50+ more with him.
Read on if you want to hear our story. If not, Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all!

~My favorite of all the Trash the Dress photos~

Our relationship didn't start out like most relationships tend to. And nothing has been par for the course since then really either. I don't think I would have it any other way.

Justin and I met at the Coffee Pot, a local bar in Roanoke. We were both there to see a band, Sun Dried Opossum, play. I went in to check it out, but nobody was really there. Only one small group of people caught my eye, and mainly because one cute guy with long dreadlocks caught my eye. I am such a sucker for cute guys with dreadlocks!!
I ended up staying and we ended up getting to talk and hang out. From that night on I would tend to run into the same group of people, until I began hanging out with them all on a regular basis. We would head out in the evenings to bars around the area, go see shows together, or hang out at friends' houses. It was a good time.
Justin was a student at Virginia Tech at the time, and I was in massage school in Christiansburg. We realized that our schedules were similar on some days and decided to start carpooling on Wednesdays. This was how we became really close friends. After school we'd hang out with friends in Blacksburg and then we'd hit up "the beer store" (aka Vintage Cellar), then head back to my house to share in good beers. This is also how we both truly became beer snobs.

Some things sound really cheesy to say when you're already married to the person. But when I met Justin (and he agrees the same happened to him) there was a very strong and immediate bond between us. We were only friends but there was a very strong "something" there.
We wound up spending the majority of our time together, even when we were also hanging out with the group. Justin was spending, on average, a good 5 nights a week at my house, either sleeping on the couch or in the spare bedroom.

Eventually our relationship did take a romantic turn, even though we were still "just friends", and on May 5th 2003 I found out for certain that I was pregnant. We talked it over and agreed to have the baby, who would become Shannon, and also to get an apartment together (my lease at the house I was renting was up). We didn't want to get married though just because I was pregnant, we really wanted to try and let things develop as normally as they could between us.
When we moved into the apartment we had even considered not sharing a bedroom. By the time move-in date arrived though that plan was out the window and we were a couple.
We agreed that it was imperative that Justin finish college. He took a job working 40 hours a week at a local restaurant and I worked at Papa John's as well as at a local spa as a massage therapist.

We stayed in the apartment for 2 years. During that time we had Shannon, we got married, and Justin graduated from college.
We then moved in with my grandfather for a few months while we were in the process of buying our first home. My grandfather would keep an eye on Shannon in the evenings, after he'd already been put to bed, and we would go down to the house to work on painting it and so on. This September will mark 5 years of us being in this house.

We had lived here for about a year when we decided to have another baby and I got pregnant with Tristan. That was at the beginning of Winter and the start of the new year brought a new job for Justin, his first job out of college using his degree. I quit my job at the spa (I hadn't been at Papa John's since Shannon's birth) when he started his new job. For a while I did massage therapy out of the house, until it was too much after Tristan was born.

In the time we've been together we've both grown a lot. Reality has often hit hard. We've learned the value and importance of starting at the bottom. Of working your way up. Of doing things yourself.
I can very honestly say that there is no-one in the world I would rather be with.

All The Things Flying Around Here ..

~Shannon, being an airplane outside after dinner at The Homeplace, in Catawba, VA~

Spring is always crazy. Or maybe life is just always crazy, I'm not quite sure. But now it is Summer, so I thought I would share a quick glimpse into our world, of the things that are buzzing about in our lives:
1) Thanks to recent rains, the garden is growing like crazy. Justin doesn't know it yet (he will within the hour though), but tonight's task it to get out and finish staking the tomatoes before the become a maze in the garden. The peppers aren't looking too hot (pardon the pun), I don't think they're too wild about the weather swings. We'll see how they go. A mysterious pumpkin plant has taken over the onion bed, so we're waiting to see what happens there. Of course, now we're several days into no rain & lots of heat, so we're seeing things wilt. Will have to water things this evening - thank you rain barrels!!! Must note though: the plants in the back garden, as well as the potatoes, have held up much better to lack of rain and high heat as opposed to areas where we didn't get deep mulch in. Ruth Stout was a wise woman!
2) The flowers are still blooming like crazy. I just looked out and noticed that we have orange daylilies blooming in the spot between the sidewalk and road. A friend has given us whatever she digs up and divides out of her daylily beds the last two years, which has enabled us to fill in some bare spots with fresh color.
3) Despite all concerns about Colony Collapse Disorder, we're again bursting with bees. They love our lavender bushes and, at any given time of day, you can find easily 20+ bees buzzing around. Now we're seeing them on more plants and flowers. If you plant them, they will come. --- For the record: since we've moved in here, we've yet to have anyone get stung, and our lavender bushes are on either side of the front walk!! You don't bother them, they don't bother you.
4) Learning to write - Shannon has been really practicing his handwriting lately. He's written his first letter to someone (a thank you letter) and has been signing cards, etc. Since he's so eager about writing, we're now looking into getting him a penpal. You remember ... before email, twittering (tweeting?), instant messages and so on. Real mail. Real letters. Handwritten.
5) Sports - Shannon has also taken part in his first taste of rec-league-esque sports. This spring he took something called "Great Beginnings" for both soccer and t-ball. The idea is that they teach the basics and fundamentals to the kids, as well as the parents; a parent must attend each "class" with the child and take part. The parents learn how to properly coach and teach, the kids get the basics without actually competing yet. It is for 4-6 year olds. Justin took Shannon, and I think they both had a blast. Tristan seems a little more into t-ball than Shannon, and Shannon still loves golf, so we'll let them see where they want to go with it all. Personally, I had a horrible experience growing up regarding sports and a parent who couldn't "properly" coach/teach. There are scars I'm still trying to deal with now that we're into sports for the boys. It has been trying, mostly because I'm determined to not let my traumas effect my children's experience in a negative way. It is all very weird trying to deal with.
6) NOI - Our first one! We've been getting helpful information and "tips", along with actual "samples" from lots of wonderful, wonderful people. We'll be submitting Shannon's first NOI here shortly. Though we know he could probably quite easily ace a kindergarten test now, there is still a lot of anxiety taking that first "official" step into homeschooling. We're certain in our decision, and in the reasons we've chosen this path, but it is still a new path in our lives so there is that natural anxiety.
7) Potty Training - Tristan is finally showing an interest! YAY!!! I wish we could still have him in cloth diapers, but with the heat and humidity he gets rashes too, too easily .. and that is in disposable ones. We learned about this the "hard way" the summer he turned 1. Wearing the cloth diapers the poor guy was covered in a horrible, constant rash. Red hair, sensitive skin, summer heat and humidity. It just didn't work for him. I only lament about the cloth diapers now because I know it would help him potty train sooner. But, he's getting there and has gone on the potty a couple of times now. Of course, it is when we're out and about (without a spare diaper) that, in the middle of a store, he'll decide to start screaming that he has to pee. Talk about Murphy's Law!
8) Removing Toxins - Ok, so that may be a little bit of a misnomer. I'm really bad about letting too many people get too close, letting them "too far in." I take things to heart, and then bruise pretty easily. So, I often have to go through periods of removing people who've become "toxic" from my life. I, ulitimately, probably have only myself to blame for it all. Right now I'm in the process of removing some of those toxins, and it especially heart-wrenching. Hopefully by next weekend things should start looking up, but until then, the days have been kinda long.
9) Fishing - I really didn't want to end this blog on a "negative" note, so here is a new family joy we've gotten into. For Father's Day this year we started a new family tradition of taking Daddy fishing. One day it will maybe be just a father-sons kind of thing, but for now Mommy has to go too in order to assure that everything remains harmonious. The boys have been given their own tackle-box (completely stocked!) by their Grandpa Barry, and have been very thrilled about it all. This is the first year we've taken them fishing. We took them to the Fishing Rodeo in May, went fishing while we were camping, and now down to the river on Father's Day. We didn't catch anything at the river this time, but we still had fun. Of course, one lesson we're still trying to teach the boys is: while you're fishing it isn't such a good idea to also attempt to skip stones &/or throw the largest rocks you can find into the river. They'll get it eventually, and until then hopefully they'll have fond memories of fishing.


~Shannon fishing along the Roanoke River in Salem, Va while Daddy watches and Tristan gathers rocks to throw into the water~


~Tristan fishing with Daddy along the Roanoke River in Salem, VA. Tristan had just been reeling in the line, but stopped and let Justin do it just before I snapped this photo~

A trip to the doctor

This is Shannon, our oldest. Shannon turned 5 in January so that meant a trip to the doctor for shots. Shannon is our wild-man (though I'm not doubting Tristan's abilities). He's our loud one, our full-steam-ahead, running-on-all-cylinders, drama-queen kid. Though he pushes me past limits I knew I ever had, every day it seems, I love his personality!! It does make trying to raise him a challenge, but it is one I look forward to (I really do .. am I telling you this or trying to convince myself??) .. especially since I know he has more of my personality than Justin's.
Before I tell you the tale of our latest doctor's visit, I need to fill you in on a couple more things. You now know how Shannon is (to some degree), and you probably have a good idea of who I am too (although I'm never quite what you expect). We see Dr. Beazley. He has consistently been chosen as one of the best (if not the best) pediatricians in the Valley, and he was Justin's and my pediatrician when we were younger .. along with our siblings' and my cousins'. We chose him because I knew I wouldn't likely care for anyone else, and deep down we do trust him .. we've seen the results. HOWEVER, we DON'T always agree with him! And .. for the record .. on this trip, I WAS VERY PMSy. (Gotta own up to it).
Now I can begin my story.
We check in at the front desk and I'm handed a clipboard with several pink sheets of paper and told "fill it out & give it to the nurse." I thought this was odd since we've been seeing Dr. Beazley for so long, but whatever. It started off with familial health history questions (history of ___ - check father, mother, siblings). Pretty standard questions .. though I must note that I LOVE the standard question asking if any of us has a history of death or death as an infant. YEA.
I'm filling out the form as the boys are hanging out, and then I flip the page and get to questions that start making me question this whole process. Questions like what type of house do we live in, what type of heating do we have .... ok ... I can still see where these could be used for health reasons. But then there was the question "What was the highest level of education" for the mother and father. HELLO!! Talk about some SERIOUS invasion of privacy!!
The nurse calls us back and I ask her about this. Here is where PMS comes into play and I had to tell her that I wasn't trying to jump down her throat about this, but I wanted to know how these questions (there were more, I just can't remember them now .. blocked them out maybe?) were anyone's business ... how did they conceivably pertain the the health of my child?? I filled out the form anyway, but I'm still grumbly about it.
Now we're in the room and we're waiting. Shannon has been weighed and had his height measured, along with his hearing and vision checked. Beazley comes in. Shannon, our "talks to anyone" kid becomes shy and won't talk. Beazley asks questions to Shannon like "what street do you live on?" Shannon answers "Sesame Street." - GREAT - ok ----- This is a running joke of sorts, one that the doctor isn't in on, and is writing down on his little pad that Shannon thinks he lives on Sesame Street. I prod Shannon to tell him where he really lives and he answers correctly. Also, even though Shannon normally finds it hysterical to call us by our names .. when asked by the doctor what our names are he says "mommy" and "daddy" ... and won't tell the doctor his full name (which not only does he know, but he can write out!) --- more scribbling on the pad from the doctor.
I then get the lecture about how I can't let Shannon out of my sight because he WILL wander off and the implication that there is a good chance Shannon won't be able to tell someone where he lives. I was told to NOT let him play alone even in our backyard!!! Times they have changed.
Next, I get the lecture about Vitamin D. How studies are finding kids lacking in this and how taking a multi-vitamin for it can help prevent not colon cancer and diabetes (apparently a good, healthy diet is less important than a multi-vitamin .. or at least not the first common sense answer when it comes to diabetes). I tell the doctor (YES, I told him this) how we only drink raw milk. I should be happy child services wasn't called then and there. I got told how "raw milk doesn't contain Vitamin D, that's why they fortify the milk with it." ---- Nice to know you're paying attention doc, when milk is pasteurized it loses up to 66% of the natural Vitamin D - THAT is why they fortify PASTUERIZED milk with it!!! http://www.westonaprice.org/transition/dairy.html --- I didn't argue with the doc here, I know better. He once tried to tell me, when Shannon was really little, how he wasn't really sold on organic food and the benefits of that too. Again, another moment I should probably be happy he didn't call Social Services then and there.
Next up: the shots. The first one was in his left deltoid. Later that evening, during bath time, we would notice a raised, red area the size of a dollar around the injection site. The next two were in his right arm, in his tricep .. an area pretty tender and sensitive on almost all of us. One of the two shots I saw go in and she put the ENTIRE needle in his arm, ALL THE WAY up to the syringe!!! She admitted that one hurt, as he screamed in pain and cried. Ya think?!?!?! GEEZ LADY!
When we had first gotten in there the nurse assumed we were there for the kindergarten check-up. I told her we were homeschooling, so he didn't need those tests/shots. Beazley told me that he still wanted to do them because of testing for anemia and some other stuff. He also told me how homeschooling was a good thing, but it is really a lot of work on the mother, so I needed to beware and be ready. Because, yea, raising kids in general isn't hard work at all, it's a breeze! GRUMBLE!!!!
So we're sent to the bathroom so Shannon can pee in the cup. Shannon doesn't know yet how to "shut it off" when the cup is full, much less hold the cup, so I lucked out with a over-filled cup and a pee soaked hand. They also didn't give us the type of cup that you just screw the lid onto, but a vial I had to pour the pee into. Tristan had the fortunate luck of standing between the toilet and sink, and getting pee dribbled (by me) onto his shirt. Sorry buddy.
Now we head off to the lab. Not only am I carrying the vial of pee, but also the 20 some big stickers we've been givin along with the two pencils they gave Shannon, and the paperwork they gave me ... because naturally, I didn't bring a purse or bag. I give the pee to the nurse and we sit down to wait. The room is NOT empty. Tristan screams about stickers. The nurse calls us into the lab - Shannon has to have his finger pricked. I try to get him to look at me, he doesn't. He screams and cries (drama queen, remember?), freaking out about the nurse squeezing blood from his finger. By now even the nurse is trying to convince him it doesn't hurt. We head back to sit down, Shannon crying and telling me between sobs and sniffles how "now I'm sick!". I tell him he isn't sick. What does he do??? He sits down in the seat and makes himself throw up!! (Yes, he can do that!) And, I'm not talking a little spittle here. The kid throws up BIG TIME: all over his shirt, his pants, into his shoes (of course we wore our faux-fur lined crocs today), on the chair, on the floor!!!!!
I rush back into the lab and ask for a towel as my child has just gotten sick. I'm handed ... three little paper towels. Back and forth I start going, trying to clean up the mess as much as possible; praying Tristan stays put; trying to get Shannon to calm down; spotting out of the corner of my eyes everyone watching and covering their noses .. it did smell! Finally the nurse asks me if they need to call house-keeping. YES!! I clean up everything and Shannon as best I can, I place the trash can in front of the seat and let the nurse know this so she can tell house-keeping. I'm handed the results of the lab-work and sent back across the hall to where we originally were.
The nurse who saw us come back apparently couldn't notice Shannon was covered in puke, and told us to have a seat. I hissed at Shannon to not sit down, and we all stood. Yes, I was sympathetic to my wounded child .... I'm not that mean and cold-hearted ... but he is a drama queen and he will get himself wound up and make it all that much worse (which he did). I'm not happy.
Beazley comes out, we walk over to him. Shannon moves to hop up into a nurse's chair, I hiss at him to not to. I get "the look" from Beazley. I have to explain to Dr. Beazley that Shannon is covered in PUKE!!!!!! Seriously man, I'm trying to keep your nurses' chairs from having PUKE on them!! C'mon!! Results were perfect, we're good to go (as much as possible anyway).
We head out to the car. It had been in the mid- to upper-40's that day, and since we weren't going to be outside long I hadn't seen a need to wear coats. We all had on long sleeve shirts, pants, and faux-fur lined crocs (well, mine were Birks). I get Tristan into his car seat and buckled in, making Shannon wait by his door on the other side of the car. I went around to Shannon and made him start stripping off his pants, as luckily, I had a spare pair in the car. Of course the parking lot wasn't empty, lots of people got to see me, the cold-hearted bitch of a mom that I am, and my poor shivering, 1/2 naked kid. Unfortunately for Shannon, the pants were a size 4, and so he looked like he was wearing capri pants -- we didn't even try to force them to button, I just got him buckled into his seat, tossed the dirty pants on the floor board, and slammed the door.
I was pissed, I had been insulted, offended, accused of stuff, talked down to, shot dirty looks, peed on, and so on. Ok, maybe I'm reading into it some here, but this is how it felt. AND I was PMSy and had a migraine.
We got home, I got the kids into clean clothes and fed lunch. Then I called Justin. He hadn't gone with me .... it was all HIS FAULT!!!!!! AHA!
And so that pretty much ends the story of our well-visit (HA!!) trip to the doctor. Shannon, wounded, shot, abused, covered in puke, drama queen; Tristan, well-behaved for the most part, but in the wrong place at the wrong time and so, sprinkled with pee; Me, PMSy, a migraine, pissed off, cold-hearted mom with apparently ZERO sympathy for my poor son; and Justin, who got to catch most of the blame for not going with me and making me deal with this hellish trip all by myself.

Giddy Moments

This is Patti. Patti is one of our two Partridge Cochin hens, both of whom are named Patti, and both of whom had not yet started laying. We had decided we had to have a Cochin because friends of ours had a Buff Cochin, also named Patti, and she was everyone's absolute favorite hen!! Of course, it was after we placed the order for our cochins (we got partridge to be a little different) that we found out their Patti was really a rooster. In hindsight, if we had known that we would've ordered Buff Cochins as well in the hopes of being able to breed. Of course, by the time our chicks were old enough to go outside, the very beloved Patti had been "lost to the wild." We had gotten two Cochins to make sure we had one that lived to adult-hood, since this was our first time having chickens, we didn't want to run the risk of Murphy's Law. They both of course (Murphy's Law?) lived, and Shannon decided that they both should be named Patti. How can you argue with a 4 year old?
When we decided to get chickens, the question of how many we ultimately wanted was a big one. At first, as I was trying to convince Justin that this was a simply must-have thing, I told him I would be ok with just 3 or 4 hens. After all, we have never been big egg eaters, so why would we need a lot of chickens? Of course, then I looked at all the breeds and types of chickens there are. Then I learned about heirloom chickens, and how breeds of chickens are in danger of going extinct. I checked out breeds that were known for being quiet and calm, as well as good in cold weather. That last one seems to be a very, big, cruel joke, as here we are in mid-February and having days in the mid-60's. But, I digress.
One thing I did notice is that some breeds are more prolific egg layers than others. Since we were now at having 8 birds (instead of 3 or 4), this wasn't too big of an issue. I knew Cochins and Brahmas weren't prolific egg layers, but ~ meh, we aren't big egg eaters! What they DIDN'T tell us in the catalogs is that there is no set time when birds begin laying, and that it can and DOES vary a lot between breeds!!!
Right around the age of 6 months old our Buff Orpingtons began laying. Shortly thereafter we lost a Buff Orpington and a Dark Brahma. We then acquired two Americaunas (ooohh .. they lay blue & green eggs!), who although they were 2 months younger, also began laying right around 6 - 7 months of age. We get almost an egg a day from those two! Our Dark Brahma began laying right before Christmas, at 8 months of age. With the addition of the two Americaunas to replace the two we lost, we are at a total of 6 hens. As of Christmas we were averaging between 2 & 3 eggs a day. As of February 1st we began getting almost 4 eggs a day - not too bad with only 4 of our 6 laying. And this brings us back to our Cochins. I'd read someone post that theirs' didn't start until 9 1/2 months of age.
For those of you who haven't had chickens, the thrill of the first egg is hard to describe. I can only compare it to having a good friend go into labor. I know, comparing a chicken laying an egg to a good friend giving birth is probably a good sign that something is "off" in my head ~ but that is the giddiness that you feel. Everytime you walk out to check on the chickens and suddenly spot a new egg, your body immediately starts doing a happy dance, jumping up and down, dancing around, flailing your arms, and all the while you're just trying to figure out who to call and tell first. You almost don't want to pick it up, for it may ruin the happiness of the moment.

Yesterday I went out to look for eggs, lifted the nest box, and found one of the Pattis sitting in the box, ready to lay an egg. I quickly shut the lid. Then I opened it again. Then I shut it. Then I ran back up onto the deck, where I could look down on the coop and tractor. The other chickens stood at the door to the coop, as if waiting for the moment to happen. They tend to do this whenever one of them is in the nest box, sometimes even going into the coop to wait. I think they feel the excitement too.
I stood up on the deck, listening to them. I know that when a chicken is about to lay an egg, they will make some noise. For those who don't already know, our chickens don't cluck like normal chickens - they tend to make a quacking noise like a duck that kinda sounds like they're laughing at you. So, it made me bubble over with excitement and giddiness when I heard "bwak, bwak, bwak, bwak ... BAWAK!" (that is how I am guessing you type out that chicken noise) ~ This was repeated several times. By now I was beside myself. I saw Patti finally leave, and went down there to look.
The egg on the left in the photo is from Patti. I'm not sure who laid the egg on the right. When I went down there to look after I saw that Patti had left, Bunny (who lays green eggs) was in the box as well. I saw that she had an egg coming out (a kinda cool sight), and gave her a minute. When I looked back in, she was gone and so was the egg. Only Patti's egg was there. I went to take it, but the gals started making a fuss at me. They all suddenly started making that exact noise I (ever so eloquently) desribed above. I must admit it flustered me, and I felt as if I had somehow made a very huge faux-pas amongst the chickens. I left the egg and went back up to the deck. Not good enough, they knew I was up there watching them, and they continued to fuss at me. I finally went inside. Apparently, it isn't good chicken manners to immediately try and confiscate a 1st timer's egg!!
When I went out a little bit later, there was another brown egg laying next to Patti's, and I was able to take the picture. I still was curious about the green egg. It wasn't in the nest box, and wasn't outside. I opened the coop and found it there.
After I had seen Patti's egg, but been unable to take it inside, I did the above-described "Happy Dance." I opted for calling Justin first. Justin who now has 6 chickens to contend with instead of the "maybe 3 or 4". I was very pleased to hear as much excitement in his voice as was in mine. He didn't even roll his eyes at me when I asked him last night if he wanted to see the egg, he excitedly said yes and followed me to the kitchen. Now we're just as eagerly awaiting the day when we go out there to find 6 eggs.