A real cow?

Once a year we buy a cow from a local farmer.

It's cheaper that way for us to buy our meat and for me it makes everything just that much easier.  Kind of a one and done.  This past Friday our cow was ready to be picked up at the small town butcher that works with the farmers in our area.  So I packed up my little boy and off we went.

On the way back from picking up the cow we stopped very quickly at a jewelry store in order to drop something off that needed repairing.  This jewelry store is fancy-shmancy.  We were SO out of place there, it was not even funny.  But what was even more funny was the conversation that my son had with one of the sales ladies.  It was all I could do to stifle the laughter….

"So what are you and your mom up to today?"

"We just went and picked up our cow."

"Your cow?"

"Yep."

"A real cow?"

"Yes."

"Where did you put it?"

"Oh, Mom put it in the back of our van."

"Your van?  That's right outside in the parking lot?"  By this time the sales clerk was craning her neck to look out at all the vans in the parking lot.

"Yes.  She put it in a really big box."

"Umm…."

She was about to say something else when I couldn't keep the laughter in any more.  Turned to my son and said it's time to go.  We got outside and I high-fived my son.

"What was that for?"

"Oh nothing….except you just made my day."

Okay, I give…..I'm done.

Did you know that the everyday Mom is asked around 300 questions per day (on average) by a child?  

Everyday.

I just read an article that the UK did on how mothers are the most quizzed people.  The study stated that, "from breakfast at 7.19am to tea time at 7.59pm, the average mum faces a testing 12.5 hour day of questioning - working out at one question every two minutes 36 seconds." 

Welcome to my world.  You didn't need a study to come up with that.   

So let's take those statistics and run with them, shall we?  Now, I have 4 kids.  And to be fair, I have two teenagers who don't ask as many questions as my two little ones, so let's say that on average I answer 200 questions a day.  

Oh, wait….maybe I should have put my husband into the kid category.  He can't seem to find where anything is lately.  That's another 100 questions right there…..okay, maybe not.  

200 questions.  Everyday.  In one week, that's 1,400 questions.  In one month, it's 5,600 questions.  And in one year, it's a whopping 67,200 questions.  That I answer.  Now, I might be off a little on my calculations (math was never my strong suit), but still.  That is a crazy amount of questions to answer.

So remember this...if you come across a Mom at the checkout counter with a glazed look when you ask her…"paper or plastic".  Take pity.  She might have just reached her limit on questions and said….

…okay, I give.  I'm done.

Ahem, just sayin'.

Ahhhhhh….they're spraying the roads here

The first significant snow is on its way.  I'm not ready for winter to come.

 Somebody help me….I can't find my happy place.

Debunking the myth….

Let's talk about poison ivy for a moment, shall we?

Say, what??  Now, why would we do that.  It's basically winter here….ain't nothing growing anywhere.

Well…..let's just take a moment and learn what not to do when you become a new farmer.  Ahem.  Translation:  Don't do the stupid things I do. 

Here's our barn.  This is what it looked liked the first day we saw it.

When I look back at this, it's a wonder we ever bought this farm to begin with.

Okay, look closely.  Can you see all the vines growing up the entire side of the barn?  Well that, my friends, is poison ivy.  Now, fast forward to this past Monday.  It was our last warm day of the week so the little kids and I took the day off from school and went out to the farm to do some yard work.  Since all the leaves had been dead from the bushes and trees I was not at all worried.  No leaves = no rash.  I was sitting pretty on not ever getting anything.  Stupid act number one.

I cut, pulled and chopped all day long.  It was only at the end of the day for just a little while that I had the kids involved in the worst part.  Pulling the actual vines down off the barn itself.  Stupid act number two.

My oldest came later that afternoon when the high school was done

Thankfully the children never got any type of rash.  By this time it was getting quite cold and they had several layers of clothing as well as hats and work gloves on.  So they never did touch the actual vines themselves.  But as for me, well…..I didn't get quite so lucky.  I got a small patch of poison ivy on my right wrist (from where my sweatshirt and work gloves came together).

So….here's what I've learned and you can too.  You normally get poison ivy from touching the leaves, but yanking the vine out by the roots and hanging on them with all your might (I didn't mention but that's stupid act number three) will cause you - even in the winter - to get a wicked rash.  

There is an oil, called urushiol, that causes an allergic reaction after the first sensitizing exposure.  The oil is in the leaves, vines and the roots.  That's why tearing out the vine is so dangerous - it releases lots of urushiol.  

Also, did you know….that the oil from poison ivy is extremely stable and will stay potent - essentially forever.  You can get a rash from clothing or tools that have the oil from last summer, or even from many years back.  

So remember…stupid is as stupid does.  Right?

But man…..doesn't that barn look good.  Relatively speaking.

Well, it's official….

….winter has finally arrived.  I'm just gonna call it early.

So in case you needed any ideas….

If you'll excuse me, I'm on my way to make it some kickin' chicken tortilla soup for this evening.  Cause that's just the way we roll here.

Mom, Dad broke his heart….

….my little son yelled above the tractor motor.  I was mowing down in the orchard yesterday while my husband was cutting a very large tree down.  I cut the engine and when it died down he yelled again.

"Mom, Dad broke his heart."

"What do you mean he broke his heart?"

"Dad needs you.  He fell off the ladder and broke his heart.  I told him I would go and get you."

"Dad fell off the ladder?"  The reality of the situation was sinking in very quickly.  I jumped off the tractor and took off running toward the tree.  From a distance I could see him standing next to the friend of ours that was helping him cut down the tree.  I slowed my pace thinking that my five year old was mistaken.  "Did he really fall off?"  I asked again.

"Yes, Mom."

Then I noticed his behavior.  He gripped his chest and started pacing.  After 22 years of watching this man, I knew what was happening.  He carries the weight of this family on his shoulders and is the ultimate tough guy.  He does not bend or complain about anything really.  But when he is in pain….a lot of pain, he paces with his hands in fists.

That's the man I ran up to.

He had been cutting down the tree when a branch fell the wrong way, clipped the ladder out from under him and he fell squarely on the ladder across his sternum.  He couldn't breathe, only in short breaths, but was up and pacing, hands in fists.

After much convincing on our part, we finally told him that the hospital was where he needed to go.  Many x-rays and some strong pain medicine later, we took a very loopy man home with an extremely bruised/possibly fractured sternum.  We are thankful that is all he had.  I know he was in a lot of pain, but it could have ended a whole lot worse.  We know that from first hand experience.  Several years ago his father fell from a ladder and hit his head something fierce.  To this day, we are very lucky that man is alive and kickin'.

As far as my man is concerned, I am crazy about him.  This family is crazy about him.  And we just don't work well without him.  That's a good thing.  Because the very next day he was up and helping out the family….it's what he does best.  Stubborn ol' thang.