About Time

I had to walk to the barn one evening last week and happened to see this calf standing at the water trough with one of God's great sunsets framing him.  I'll never tire of seeing a great sunrise or sunset.

During this parenting adventure I find that I am constantly either looking forward or backward, but not relishing in the moment nearly enough.  

For instance, if I leave the house with all the kids now and feed them at 11:30, I have enough time to pick up parts, groceries and run to the bank and be home just in time for naps so I can run snap tests on cattle while the baby sleeps and then start supper during snack time.  Perfect.

Or planning for the week: We can help work cattle these three days and skip naps, and then schedule me picking up feed on Thursday afternoon at 2.  It's a 45 minute drive which will work perfectly for the kids to nap in the pickup. 

Or, you can plan everything perfectly, lay exhausted kiddos down for a nap and then your husband decides to dry fire his implant gun in the house multiple times to test it and now everyone is awake and cranky.  (I cannot even make this stuff up.  That happened as I was typing the previous paragraph.) 

As you can see, my life primarily revolves around working for my husband and then fitting the children in around the cattle and crops in our life.  

***

I feel like this is how we operate in agriculture as well, always looking forward or backwards but rarely taking a moment to enjoy the now.  The kids were helping me grocery shop last week and I grabbed a package of multiple cans of wasp and hornet spray to throw into our cart.  Kenyon asked why I was grabbing that already as technically this is still winter.  My answer to him?  "It's about time to think about shipping calves."  

From his perspective I was being absolutely ridiculous, but in middle-aged parent math I feel this timeline checks out.  

It's about time to start calving, which means its then about time to turn cattle out on grass, then about time to burn, then about time to work calves, about time to bale and haul hay all day, then play baseball all evening, then about time to finish projects for the fair, then about time load trucks at all those pens with angry hornets and wasps.  

Yes, sir.  About three good blinks and it will be the end of summer.  Then it'll be about time to chop sileage, wean calves, preg check cows, survive the dreaded holiday season and BOOM.  It's 2025.  I feel like I should say Happy New Year, but at this point I don't know if I'm dreadfully late for 2024 or incredibly early for 2025.  

Spring Sprang

It happens every year.  Spring suddenly sprang and here we are trying to play catch up.  I thought the toughest years were those with little babies and endless diapers, but I think perhaps I was wrong.  At least during that time I had control of the narrative.  I could control most of our schedule, doctor's appointments, play time and the like.  The only wild card I had was chasing around my husband, which admittedly is more than enough.  

These days we have school, field trips, three baseball teams with three different schedules, being a hired man for my husband, piss poor secretary and trying (failing) to keep house.  

The diaper days were 'easier'.  Or at least more focused.

Lunches with Grandpa are priceless.

One of our many 'homeschool' days. 

Cousin love.  These two are 20 days apart and thick as thieves.

Lunch on the go.

First spring show of the year. 
6:20am and everyone is loving life!

I love when someone else is kind enough to till my garden. 
He's not quite big enough to do it by himself but this was a nice learning experience.

Who knew tomato cages could be so much fun?!

I'll See You in May

***Warning - I began writing this post in late March.

He came home from burning one night.  I told him to freeze - I need to shoot you!- he replied that he was so tired he'd like to be shot and put out of his misery.
This is one of my favorite pictures of him EVER. 

Most mornings my husband and I have a bit of a 'morning meeting' before he heads out the door as the sun rises.  It's not much of a conversation; more like a trading of our lists of chores and obligations for the day.  It's rather informal.  I sit on a little six-inch step stool our kids use at the utility room sink; Wes sits on his bench and laces up his work boots. 

Late last week his tone turned serious as he spoke to me.  "I just want to let you know; next week the spring run is on.  I won't be around much."

I used to take this talk more seriously, to be honest.  This time I laughed.  In his face.  I regretted it (to a degree) almost instantly.  

***I'm concluding writing this post in mid-May.  If anything, life has gotten worse over the years after the spring rush has concluded.  After pastures are burned, corn is planted, calving is over, cattle are out to grass and calves are worked we now have a huge rush with activities for the children: field trips, baseball, t-ball, spring concerts and award banquets.  

We. Are. Tired.  

At this point I laugh about the struggles we used to have.  I no longer worry about solo parenting everyone.  At this point I feel I'm well versed in the art of solo parenting four kiddos and honestly my husband's presence often throws a wrench in our routine.  Our struggles these days come from trying to find balance.  We *only* participate in baseball and 4-H during the summer, which sounds manageable.  This is alright until we add in evening chores with critters, homework and trips to the field to visit Dad.  

We have no trouble when our heads hit the pillow at night.  

I realize these struggles are temporary, but goodness they are still exhausting.  We are all counting down the days until July 1.... when the next adventures can begin...

Babies, Bucket Calves and Bred Heifers

Several weeks ago we had our heifers preg checked to make sure they all had calves in their bellies.  Our oldest son, Kenyon, had turned his show heifer out in this pasture after the fair and we had high hopes that she would be bred as well.  

But before I tell you that story, I need to tell you this story. 

I hated that heifer.  

I realize that I'm not supposed to say hate, but I need to make it clear just how much I despised her.  And most of it wasn't really her fault.  It was more that she was a constant reminder of a whirlwind time in our lives and just one more thing that we didn't really need on our plates at that moment.  

It was the beginning of the pandemic and no one really understood just what was going on or the best course of action.  On top of that, I was pregnant with our fourth child.  On top of that, we had to begin our remote learning journey with our kindergartener.  On top of that, we had begun a bit of home renovation as we were having another bedroom added on for this new child and it's impending birth.  On top of that, springtime is generally a special type of hell around here; what with burning pastures, kicking calves out on grass, cooking for a crew, and on and on and on.... I could elaborate further but I feel I've adequately made my case.  We. Were. Busy.  We were busy, but somehow we were managing to just keep our heads ever so slightly above water.  

In late April I had the baby.  24 hours later we were back at home.  24 hours after that my husband gave me a bucket calf, a tiny black baldy bull.  24 hours after that (72 hours post-baby for those of you keeping track) I was given another bucket calf.  A red baldy heifer that was wilder than a march hare.  

I remember during that time mixing two large bottles for the bucket calves, loading the baby into the stroller, balancing the bottles on the stroller and walking down to the barn.  I remember nursing the baby in the barn and sometimes she would cry if the hungry calves bawled too loudly and frightened her.  So sometimes the calves got fed while the hungry baby bawled because honestly, she was much quieter than the other two.  While I fed bottles to the tiny human and tiny calves the rest of the children would do their best to help me with the other chores.  

I was always thankful for such a pretty view as I sat in the barn nursing the new baby.

Hats off to the parents that survived remote learning and
many thanks to the creative teachers that made this all possible! 

We'd walk back home and I'd do my best to whip up food for a crew of men.  I'm not the best cook on a good day, and these were far from good days.  My most sincere thanks to the hungry men that choked down my food and said thanks.  (I'm trying, guys, I promise!)  I'd load up the food in the back of my car, drive to the designated pasture and we'd have a pasture picnic.  I'd set out all the lawn chairs, lay ou the buffet in the back of the car and then nurse my tiny human baby while the men ate.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Day after day for most of our spring this is how things went.  And in the back of my mind was always the fact that we had to feed those damn bucket calves twice a day.  

I'm fine,
we're fine,
everything's fine.

But like most things in life, our situation was temporary and things started to look up after a few months.  Although one calf sadly did not make it, the red baldy finally started to take a bottle from Kenyon and allowed me a bit more freedom.  The change of the seasons meant I didn't have to cook nearly as many meals to take to the pasture and the baby didn't require quite so much of my attention as she got older.  I thanked God countless times for such a happy baby.  I don't think we could have survived otherwise.  

The heifer seemed to explode growth-wise overnight and started to look like a decent show heifer prospect.  We knew she wouldn't win any major awards but at least we wouldn't be laughed out of the ring.  After some deliberation, we decided she could be Kenyon's show heifer when he joined 4-H the next year.  He took his responsibility incredibly seriously.  Although she never calmed much for my husband or myself, Kenyon could have lead her to the ends of the earth.  They were quite good buddies and their bond was evident, as it should be with 4-Hers and their animals.  He had tears in his eyes after the fair when the trailer doors opened and he took off her halter one last time and kicked her out to pasture.  

So this fall it came time to preg check the heifers.  We allowed Kenyon to leave school early that day so he could witness the process with his heifer.  In the days leading up to this, he was so excited as he hadn't seen much of her in a few months.  My husband and I were a bit nervous as to how the ordeal would go.  What if she wasn't bred and we had to send her to the sale barn?  What if she was a total nutcase and we couldn't keep her around?   

I was elated when I got the text from my husband that the heifer was bred.  I loved it even more when he sent me this picture and said that Leeva the heifer had remembered Kenyon.  After being gathered from the large pasture and preg checked, Leeva was kicked out in a large pen with 50 other heifers.  Kenyon walked right into the middle of the herd and stood his ground as the heifers nervously frittered around him.  Little by little, he was able to make his way closer to his heifer.  Although wild by default, he said she seemed to calm when she finally realized who was in the pen with her.  He then was able to spend several nice minutes talking to her and scratching her all over.  

Even though I despised this heifer and the tumultuous time she represented in our lives, this picture still brought tears to my eyes.  (Contrary to popular belief, I'm not totally heartless.)  

I've heard countless time over the course of my life that 'a picture is worth a thousand words'.  To me, no words can do this picture justice.  To me, this photo is absolutely priceless.  

Sugar and Spice and...

 

Now that the boys have gone back to school it's just the girls and I at the house.  People often fawn over the idea of two girls in the house.  Oh, you can teach them to cook and clean and you'll just have so much fun! 

Yes, they will know how to cook and clean, but so will our boys.  I'm not a huge feminist; rather, I'm a huge advocate for knowing a bit of everything to be self sustaining.  I don't do the damsel in distress bullshit and I don't have much tolerance for boys claiming ignorance in the house either (just ask my husband).  

So.... long story short.... even though there are only two girls left in our house right now, life hasn't changed much.  Most of our conversations still revolve around dinosaurs and cattle, we still enjoy wrestling, running, dirt and all things outdoors.  

I'm thankful that all the older kids are such good sports and allow Reese to continually body slam them.

It's been oh-so-hot this week while we've been taking lunch to the silo.

The girls ran up and down the hill time and again yesterday and had the best time.

This evening Kathryn ran down this same hill at a slightly higher rate of speed, tripped and busted her face open.  Her lips are now as swollen as Lisa Rinna's.  (If you don't know you must google.)

It's been so odd this year to have such a small group for our picnics. 
Not entirely sure I'm comfortable with it yet.

She loves to watch the bulldozer, just like the rest of her siblings.

No one wants an unsightly tan line, am I right?!

If You Give a Girl a Brahmer Bull

July 2021

If you give a girl a Brahmer bull, no good will come of it.  

You must realize you've given her one of God's most stubborn creatures, even if they are rather adorable with their distinctive features. 

She'll quickly learn to dig in her heels and stand her ground, stand up each time she's knocked down.  

She'll become independent and self sufficient with no time for clowns.  

Chances are she'll become rather gruff, with very little patience for fluff. 

Honestly, you'll likely alter her entire disposition by giving her such an acquisition.

Therefore it's likely someday she'll find a man not prone to coddle, stubborn as her with no time to doddle. 

The ensuing battles will be epic when they disagree but most days they'll work together in sweet harmony. 

So by all means - go ahead if you want to ruin her life, cause her blistered hands, early mornings and late nights

But please realize there are rather serious implications when giving your daughter one of God's most stubborn creations. 

So I hate to sound the alarm but realize you're causing irreparable harm.  

In short, please heed my advice before you alter the course of her life.

If you give a girl a Brahmer bull, no good will come of it.  

July 1994

Fields of Dreams

 

This is it.  This is life lately.  We are either in the ball fields or the hay fields.  Tonight we left the baby with a friend, the oldest went to the field to bale with Dad while the two middles and I went to play t-ball.  As soon as we were done, we rushed back to the field to help move equipment and get ready for tomorrow and then drive back to our friends' house to pick up the littlest one.  

The kids went to bed 1.5 hours late.  It is now 10:30 at night and I'm making cheese dip for my husband because he called and said it sounded good. I cannot help but oblige him after he works so hard for us.  

These are the days.  What a love/hate relationship I have with the land and the lifestyle.  I know that these days are not fun for anyone involved - kids or parents, but hopefully it makes for some wonderful kiddos that understand WHY we do WHAT we do to help feed the world.  Right now they seem to have an appreciation for agriculture and we hope that sticks with them throughout their lives.  We hope they understand why there are only fleeting glimpses of Dad right now and why Mom makes the baby take most of her naps in the carseat these days.  

In a few more weeks this will all be a memory.  But right now, we are living in all sorts of fields of dreams.  

Why Is This A Big Deal?

As I scanned social media this morning I saw countless posts from my friends in agriculture that reminded everyone how terrible the weather currently is, how taxing it was for those in agriculture and occasionally they added the popular hashtags #thankafarmer or #thankarancher.

But perhaps we should dive deeper and explain to those not involved in agriculture WHY this brutal cold weather is such a headache for us all.  

I have a sweet friend that lives in town and she feels comfortable asking me the most basic questions about agriculture, which is sometimes what we all need to get back to.  

WHY is this brutal cold so awful for those caring for livestock?  Everyone just drives around in feed pickups all day, right? 

This came from the friend that often mentions how she likes to look at the cows (meaning cattle) in the field at the edge of our town.  But it's a pasture... and they are bison. 

But I digress.  And her question was completely valid and started some great conversation.  

***

On days brutal cold days when the snow and wind blows people would most like to stay in the house and relax; however, these are often the days when ranchers are allowed to relax the very least.  Caring for animals comes before anything else, period.  (Or periodT.  Isn't that how the cool kids say it these days?) 

Normal, daily chores must still happen like providing feed, checking the head count to make sure everything is accounted for, finding the few stray head, evaluating herd health and administering the appropriate medicines in judicious amounts... the list goes on and on.  Even these normal tasks require 'extra'.  Extra feed, extra attention, extra bedding, extra everything.  Nothing wants to move easily, so opening a gate with a layer of ice securing everything in place takes quite a bit of extra 'oomph'. 

On top of that, ensuring water sources are readily available and not totally frozen is a constant effort.  Ranchers carry axes/rock bars,/sledge hammers/weapon of choice in order to bust through the ice multiple times a day.  Often times during light freezes cattle can paw at the ice and provide themselves with fresh water.  When the temperatures are not forecasted to rise above freezing for nearly two weeks that is no longer an option.  

Sometimes the water source is a tank or trough, and even these still require attention as they still have the ability to freeze in this weather.  They may still need ice chopped and removed multiple times a day.  The parts on these water tanks can crack or bust, as can nearly anything in this extreme cold.  This weather can result in extra mechanical issues as the feed pickups, tractors and feed wagons bounce across the hardened, sharpened, sometimes icy, ground.  

Some operations are also calving this time of year.  (And this is when I thank God that we have a few more weeks before we're due to start.)  This simply adds another layer of difficulty to an already long to-do list.  Although God made these outdoor animals hardy and tough enough to survive many circumstances we also feel there is no need for suffering.  And so folks are constantly checking their livestock for signs of active labor.  Pacing, raised tailhead, bagging up (filling of the udder) - the females have their telltale signs if you know what you're looking for.  Just in case we have an early calf I made sure we're prepared with our powdered colostrum, bottles and old bath towels.  Old bath towels are a treasured item in our house.  

Is this an exhaustive list?  Absolutely not.  Is this an exhausting list?  Absolutely yes.  And I understand that there probably isn't an occupation that does not suck during this extreme winter weather.  Linemen, oilfield workers, plumbers, the list goes on and on.  I just hope that when someone posts online to #thankafarmer or #thankarancher that they also take the time to explain why livestock producers are doing what they do.  

....and it is a bit more work than just driving around in feed pickups.  

Little Hands

It seems as if there is always something amiss around here.  Currently we have a bucket calf that keeps bloating up.  He was sick approximately 10 days ago and my husband doctored him.  The medicines he administered also did a number on the microbes in this calf's rumen.  When the microbes aren't working on digesting food properly, bloat can occur.  

But that's neither here nor there.  Long story short, we have a calf that we have to 'air out' often.  And yes, I made that term up.  Getting a three year old to properly say 'debloat' is difficult, so we just say what we want.  It's how we roll around here.  

When we told the kids to run the calf into the chute they knew just what to do.  They set gates just right, helped make a wing, blocked holes where there was no fence so the calf couldn't run off.  I was proud of them for being such good little hands.  Make no mistake, it makes for a crazy, intense, chaotic, near sh!t show of a time, but each time they get the job done.  

I don't want to brag on them too much, as there are still tons of things they do (or DON'T do) every day that make me pull my hair out.  But I do love that these kiddos have a passion for their animals and mimic how they see the guys around here act.  

One night when the kids and I were done with the calf I looked up to see this sunset.  We were all muddy messes, I did not have supper ready, the baby needed fed and had been sitting rather patiently in her carseat for 30 minutes.... I could go on and on about the crazy things that were making me frazzled that evening, but this sunset helped calm all of that.  I think the world needs to just take a time out and look at a few more sunsets like this, right? 

 

Watering Flowers

Spoiler alert: There probably won't be a single picture of flowers in this post.  

I read a devotional some time back and it talked about how folks spend too much time watering the (figurative) weeds in their life.  It really stuck with me and this year has been a great opportunity to weed out things that aren't so healthy and water the things that matter.  

Now, please don't take this to mean I'm suddenly an advocate for more 'me time' in the world.  I'm not.  Living a God filled life doesn't mean making yourself the biggest priority, but I think living a more God filled life does call for tuning out more of the noise and watering the things that bring you closer to Him.  

In keeping with this theme, we've scaled back on many obligations (also due to covid) but in the meantime we've focused on some pretty cool things.  Our neighbor drove by last night and absolutely hit the nail on the head.  "Mom. Dad. All the kids.  Whole family's together, must be working on a 4-H project!"  He was right.  Kenyon has a heifer to show and he's pretty serious about it.  Actually, he's pretty serious about most things in life.  I really appreciate that about him.  He thinks like, and talks like, a 70 year old man most of the time.  He gives directions to the substitute bus drivers using directions like 'east' and 'west' and uses them correctly.  He likes to talk about cattle and crops and what the forecast for the week is.  He told me the other night that he couldn't wait to grow up and be a hard worker every day just like his dad.  He's a cool kid that has a lot of priorities right we feel.  We pray that he doesn't lose sight of them.  

He's assigned a book to read every evening and the two middles enjoy listening to him.

John still absolutely loves Reese and considers her to be his baby.  Her happiness is his greatest joy in life.  He takes after me in that he considers Halloween to be rather ridiculous and he was dead set against dressing up.  I finally convinced him to wear his nice church clothes and pretend he was a presidential candidate.  He went to three grandparents' homes and said "Vote for me" and called it good.  

Vote for me!

Kathryn is at such a fun age right now.  Her sentences are getting longer each day and she loves to attempt big words.  I like it that she's learning reasoning skills and starting to put together bigger pictures in life each day.  She thoroughly enjoys being a big boy just like her brothers and running alongside them as they ride their bikes up and down the road.  Also, she enjoys picking out her clothes to wear each day.  If you see her in mismatched whatnot it is probably because I made her wear something.  If she looks awesome, it's all due to her.  For being a 'big boy', the kid has some fabulous taste. 

And then there is Reese.  Our dear sweet cheeks Reese.  She is such a light in our lives.  I do not know how we ever lived without her.  Her little dimples are insanely adorable and she loves to laugh unless she's hungry or has a dirty diaper.  I try to keep up on both and thus we are endlessly entertained with deep belly laughs and high pitched squeals and songs.  They are endearing.  Even the ones at 5am.  Because we needed to get up anyway.  She's like our personal alarm clock with no off switch.  

I made a conscious decision this week to ignore the mountain of laundry on the couch that needs folded and instead work in my wood shop.  This particular bench will be a surprise for some friends (so don't tell) and I can't wait to give it to them.  It was just one of those weeks when 'watering flowers' was necessary for my soul.  Again, not literal flowers.  I had to give up on my garden this year.  It was beautiful until we had a kid spend several days in the hospital and then it rained and BOOM.  Weeds everywhere.  Sigh.  Next year we will do better for sure, if only because the bar is incredibly low at the moment.  

A friend posted this picture of me and I'm eternally grateful for it.  1, it proves that I exist and 2, it showcases me in my natural habitat.  Outside and with a baby in my arms.  I don't enjoy having my picture taken, but I just love that I have this one of Reese and I together.  

I was so excited to have one picture of me, but then there's this guy.  I have thousands upon thousands of pictures of him.  The kids will have photographic evidence galore of Wesley to look back on someday.  Sunday afternoons and evenings we try to spend together, just the six of us, and we had a ball last night getting this heifer haltered and smothered with affection.  We've no grand dreams of 'winning the state fair' as John suggested, but rather, we'd just like Kenyon to have a good taste in his mouth after this project and hopefully the other kiddos will be inspired by him too.  

So there it is, in a nutshell.  These are the flowers we've been watering lately. 

Marching Into Summer

It seems we blinked and now we're suddenly in the middle of summer.  Although, our too-smart-for-his-own-good six year old will remind me that 'technically it is not summer yet, Mom'.  Touché, kiddo.  I've not posted lately, and for a plethora of good reasons. 

1. I had a baby.  Again.  A little girl this time, named Reese.  For those of you keeping track this makes four kids in a little over six years.  It is rather intense at times, but we would not have it any other way.  

Our little ray of sunshine, baby Reese

2. We've been busy.  Like, legitimately busy.  (Refer to reason #1)  When I still had my office job I would roll my eyes when one particular man would stop by MULTIPLE TIMES A WEEK to tell me just how busy he was.  He'd take 45 minutes listing out all the busy things that kept him so busy and that's why he had to be leaving soon because he was so busy with the busy work.  Since then I've come to the conclusion that the number of times someone claims to be busy is often inversely proportional to the actual busyness of the very busy person.  I often wondered if he bragged incessantly because he was trying to convince his audience how awesome he was, or if he was just trying to fool himself.  

One of the house projects that kept me busy for a few naptimes - 

sliding shelves in almost all of our lower kitchen cabinets.  

I highly recommend this feature.  It's been a game changer for us.

3. We're not that exciting.  Seriously.  Who wants to read a blog solely about ways we've been beating the summer heat?  For your information, we beat the awful heat last week by reading books in our underwear as well as sorting and wrapping coins to take to the bank.  It made for a great lesson on the value of different coins, discussion about pictures of presidents, buildings and especially state symbols on the quarters.  I highly recommend if you're looking for activities that are out of the box (while you relax in a refrigerated box).  

4. A little mystery in life is a good thing.  You don't need to know every little thing we do around here (see reason #3).  I like to touch base every few weeks to document happenings around here, especially since this blog serves as a crappy replacement for our children's baby books.  

I'm glad someone laughs at my jokes.

 5. I told myself that I couldn't do something fun like write a blog until I finished several items on my to-do list.  Thanks, Mom, for ruining my life with this rule from my childhood that I cannot seem to shake.  I finally finished writing thank you's for all the thoughtful new baby gifts and foods and thus could write a blog without feeling a massive load of guilt.  (Actually, I ran out of thank you cards so it's more of a 'pause' on my guilt until I run to town and purchase more.)

A screenshot of a typical conversation with my mother. 

We keep it real with the tough love around here. 

Now that I'm out of reasons why I DIDN'T write a blog, here's the actual meat of the blog.

And more pictures of cute kids.  Because I know why you keep coming back to read.

There are many periods when we only see my husband for a few minutes each evening or else the kids would go days without seeing him.  Last week during many evenings we played in the wheat field and each kiddo took a turn in the swather with him.  This wheat was purposefully planted to be swathed and baled, not combined.

I absolutely love this picture of my husband, son #2 and his great grandpa.  John turned his feed cap backwards and asked his great grandpa if he could turn his cap backwards too, and look like a silly dude.  We all got such a laugh out of them looking so goofy.  Simple laughs are the best.

 When it is not hotter than blazes outside we try to walk a few miles in the morning.  I consider this to be my 'alone time' as the kids like to run ahead of me by a few hundred yards at times and I'm left to enjoy the quiet as I push the stroller with Reese.

If these kids learn nothing else from their childhood, they will know how to skip rocks.  Kenyon is especially good at it, and also good at casting when fishing from all the side arm throwing practice.  This makes it difficult to get him to throw a baseball correctly, but a challenge we're working on.  I'd love to have photos of the boys playing t-ball to share but I'm helping coach their team again this summer.  I enjoy working with the herd of kids, and I figure I should serve my time volunteering before our summers get crazy in a few years with the addition of 4-H livestock.  (Assuming the kids hold this currently level of enthusiasm to show livestock when they join 4-H in a few short years.)  

What a fun week this was... kind of.  During this week the men worked calves out in the pastures and I took them lunch every day.  Making a meal every day for a dozen people with a one month old baby is a special kind of pressure.  Then Kenyon fell off the top of a stock trailer one day and needed his head glued shut and then the next day John contracted e coli and spent four days in the hospital.  Good times, good times...

There were several storms that moved through our area a few weeks ago.  Also, a friend from church gave us a pair of mudboots that Kathryn finally grew into and I allowed her to wear.  She felt it was her absolute duty to test out the mudboots in each and every single mud puddle within one square mile of our house.  Well done, child.

So there you have it.  A little slice of our lives during the past few weeks.  Heaven only knows what adventures we'll embark upon before it's time to write the next blog!