Confessions......(Again)

I'm not really the greatest at keeping my kids clean.

I try to stay on top of the waxy ears, filthy fingernails, and boogies.....but, as far as the whole entire wash down goes - once a week is my goal. Horrible, I know. I think I probably keep my house cleaner than my boys.

It is what it is.

You see, three little hooligans in a bathtub represents a WHOLE lot of work, a WHOLE lot of loud chaos, and a WHOLE lot of flooding in my bathroom. There is screaming, guffaw-ing, splashing, and squirting of all manner of tub toys. This also represents thirty fingernails and toenails that will be clipped, three heads to be shampooed (Rachael with 3 girls, I commend you), and three full wash-downs. I prefer the naked slip'n'sliding in the summer.

When the deed is done, I always think I deserve an award of some sorts.

And then, literally, about five minutes later ---- they all look like little piggies again, and after naps they all will smell like little puppies. So, really - what's the point? Seriously.

I'm exhausted.

Moose Calling 101

My Dad is a Jack of ALL Trades - and master of quite a few - I would say. He's a highschool shop teacher, a bus driver, the chief fireman of Hodgdon......AND - "Master Moose Caller." It's true.

He's like a Moose Whisperer....if there ever were such a thing.

Anyway, when we go up home, often in the evenings we'll go out and try to lure in one of these bad boys. Never once have we seen one when all of the hooligans have tagged along. Not sure why. Maybe it's because the middle-est one can't keep his lips closed for more than one second - and even when he DOES whisper - it sounds like a small freight train. Or, maybe it's because the oldest has to pee every five minutes. Or maybe, it's because the really largest one - the one that I'm married to - likes to try his hand at rapping into the moose caller, as opposed to actually trying to call the thing in to us. Just a few WILD guesses.

Regardless - we still have a grand old time drinking our coffee, sitting up on the hood, whispering, peeing, and rapping away. Here's a little clip of the last time we all went.

This time was pretty uneventful. We didn't see a thing. Shocker.
Isn't my Dad, cute? OH, how I love that man. He totally rocks.

Anyway.....THIS time, when Dad was calling a moose all by his lonesome - just looky at what the cat dragged in:

A Moose-Whisperer, I tell you..........

Singer Songwriter

Kevy spoke at a church that was a bit of a drive away today. So, on the way home - to the pass the time - Jesse exploded into song to entertain the rest of us. I wrote the words down as fast as he was singing them, because we were dying laughing. I'm sure that it will be WAY funnier to us than to any of you all - but here it goes.

(Picture it full volume, head bobbing, with words tumbling out as fast as they can!)


We're on the State of Maine
We're gonna stay to Maine FOREVER
For God.


The winds and the sky
and piles of the pigs
and piles of the kids
and piles of the big Mama's

Stinky hair up
and Rancey in the wind
to whistle ANYTHING
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!


(Now, right here - at this point - Kaden broke into song as well, in which Jesse replies: "That's not part of the SOOOONG!" And then.....)

Mama - if you were
if you nested tooooo
TOM TA TOM TOM
Mama Mama yo MAW MAW

123! 123!
Always
4! 4! 4!
56, 78, NIIIIIIIIINE!!!!
Makes the ten!
Ten is the pooh.


(Insert Daddy saying: "Jesse - no potty talk, please.")

If you wanted to bow down to the sleeping baby
shake your hair all around
Heeeeeeeey
Shake your hair all around

Poop on your......



And at that point, we finally cut him off......
We're thinking about making a C.D.
Copies will go on sale soon for anyone interested.

The last of the last

Thus endeth my garden.

It is finished.

And for those of you who are asking - we are on egg #5 - NONE of which have been laid in THEIR nests. Ah well.

An Egg-ceptional Day!

Upon letting our girls out of their coop this morning, we looked down and happened to notice one of our little ladies camping out in our ducks' nest. Hmmmm. We thought to ourselves. Could this be the day? Might they be getting ready to lay? Did we honestly and truly NOT buy duds for chickens?

Well. We waited.
We gave them some privacy.
We wondered why they weren't using one of THEIR own three nests, but whatever. We've been completely whacked with this first time experience anyway - calling our female turkey, "Mr. Turk," and thinking our male ducks were girls right up until a week or so ago. Why NOT use the duck's nest for laying chicken eggs? It seems to suit our little dysfunctional bird family, doesn't it?

A few hours later......
what to our wondering eyes should appear???????

Hawt Dawg!!! This is fan-FLIPPING-tastic! I am pumped!!!!!!

I am a real farmer! I am a real farmer! I am a real farmer!

To Be or Not To Be

A "true" farmer that is.......

The point of this post, you ask?

Well, this week-end, we....er....."processed" Mr. Turk (who's really a girl).


And I'm a little bit sad. Moment of silence please.

(But she is quite tasty!)

You see, there are two warring people within me. There is the one that totes the following philosphies: "live off the land!"; "grow your own meat"; "eat organic"; "be self-sufficient!" etc. etc. And all of these statements involve grand visions of ginormous gardens in which we can each and every thing and never need to buy produce at the store. There are also the visions of barns and farm animals galore in which we have our own meat, and milk, and eggs - and where we know exactly what we are putting into our bodies. Part of me feels a little like I missed my calling in that way or that I'm living in the wrong era. I think I was made to work the land, to live in wide open spaces, and to just grow, and hunt, and cook, and can everything that we consume. There is something very fulfilling in that for me.

And then, there is this other little part of me, that really only wants a wee little pet menagerie....maybe a zoo, of sorts...where we just have all of our animals as pets to love and snuggle and look at, and where no deaths take place!

Deep down, I really am all about having "farm animals" serve a purpose. Our chickies are our pets, but they will give us eggs (hopefully). And I am thrilled beyond measure when Kev gets a deer, and I come right alongside him and help cut and wrap the meat. That's no issue for me, because I'm not attached. Our ducks - well - they are a different story. Our duckies are our pets only because they were birthday gifts. I justified it all along thinking they were girls and I would at least get eggs to bake with. Realizing they are boys has me slightly disgruntled. Ah well. You live and learn.

So - "to be or not to be" a true farmer? That is the question.

I think I will continue on with my quest of another turkey next year, and maybe a goat if I'm lucky. And then, maybe - some year - we'll get a cow for either beef or milk. And my heart will have to love them and snuggle them - that is just who I am. And then my hunter husband will have to "off" them and take care of them until they just resemble the meat in the grocery store before I'll take over. And I'll probably always be a little bit sad when this happens. But, I'm okay with that, I guess.

Maybe someday, I'll be a real big girl farmer!
Until then, I'll be giving my babies the best life possible until D-day happens.

Birthdays!

This week-end, we celebrated Daddy turning the big 'ole 34 years of age!!! Two of my boys - Kaden & Jesse - are six days apart in their birthdays; and my other two boys - Kevy & Ransom - are eight days apart in theirs. So, that's kind of fun. Rancey has had a couple of celebrations already, however, so this week-end was all Daddy.

Cards were made.

Heartfelt words were written.

And a banner was decorated.

And then, I asked the littles what they thought we should make Daddy for supper. "Pancakes!" were declared by my middle one. "Bacon!" yelled the oldest, who would eat an entire pound if we let him. So Mama announced: "Breakfast for supper, it is!"

We had a fun, silly breakfast for supper celebration meal, and then Daddy read his cards and unwrapped his gifts. Saturday turned out to be dreafully scuzzy, so we decided to kick it to Portland for the day and go to ALL of my boys most favorite place: Cabellas.

joy. unspeakable.

It really is fun watching them all in that place, though. Even Ransom is mesmerized by all of the animals and the fish; and they ALL love the shooting gallery. And then we topped the day off with a very yummy, super delish meal at On the Border. The highlight of MY day!

It was a grand birthday.

Happy day, my Kevy! How I love you!

Snippets of our Day

First thing after rolling out of bed each day, there is this:

After showers, breakfast, picking up and making beds, there's a whole lot of THIS which makes for the need of the tidying up process to repeat itself:

After he goes to nap, there are a couple of hours of this:

And then lunch. Then the big shoo outside until naptime before winter coops us up forever. So, we go and say hi to the girls and boys:

And Thanksgiving:

There is some of this EVERY day or I will never ever get ahead:

And then there is lots of this where all of the world's problems are solved, where meaningful discussions such as "Do I have to say excuse me for burping when I'm outside because being outside is different and besides, there's no company here." take place; and where I can't for the life of me teach these boys how to pump their legs the proper way happens:

And then today, there were just enough leaves off of the trees for this to take place:

And this:

And some of this in which many MANY leaves and sticks were partaken of:

And now they sleep.
And then supper.
And after that baths (if they're lucky.....which they're usually not)
Stories or games
And then bedtime.

"By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established."

Father, give us that wisdom and understanding.....and teach us to number our days.

My daily prayer: "Jesus, help me to SLOW and see the sacred in the chaos."

"Quiet Time" and "Motherhood" are Oxymorons

My babies have been fighting fevers all week, thus they are not sleeping well, therefore they are not in the greatest of spirits. I must confess, on a couple of these days when Kev kissed me good-bye and headed out the door to have a lunch meeting with so-and-so and a breakfast meeting with such-and-such, and a: "I'm going to shut my phone off for a bit and find a place to hide and have my quiet time before heading to work," I thought about offering to trade roles for the day.

Isn't there a verse somewhere that says: "Oh that I had wings like a dove and could fly away?" Amy's paraphrase, of course. There are rare days that I feel this way - and usually it's fixed by an early bedtime where I can find my sanity once again. But, oh - how I've been craving some honest to goodness, TRUE, "quiet time" with the Lord. A retreat of sorts, perhaps. Or at least something beyond the bible reading during the hair drying, or the praying during the nursing, or the devotions during the kids playing darts and wrestling matches in the living room or the prayers in the shower...... Something a little more restful and something a little less distracting.

I honestly DO think the Lord understands this season of life, though. I really do. It's fleeting. It's short. Someday I'll have a quiet house to myself for hours on end. Someday I'll be able to get out of bed before 6:00 in the morning and actually feel fresh and refreshed - not like I'm run over by a Mactruck! Someday, there will be silence for more than three seconds. And someday, I might even be able to take five minutes to write a blog post without someone hanging off of me or licking my toes - like child #2 is doing right now at this very second. No joke.

For now, though, I'll cling to the verses that go like this: "How blessed is the(wo)man whose strength is in YOU!" and "You who seek God, let your heart revive!" Cause I'm seeking Him, and I want revival - it's just looking a little different than, say a three day secluded women's retreat, or a two hour vigil with just me, my Bible, and God. For the here and now, it's looking a whole lot more like me sitting on the front steps watching my big boy ride his bike in the driveway, while my middle one wants my empty lap, during which I try to fish rocks out of Ransom's mouth, all the while I am trying to keep supper from burning while I try to digest a chapter or two. But, it's good. It's all good. God knows. He understands.

Ten Things - Some Lists

A bunch of silly and not so serious randomness.............

Things That Delight Me:

1. The day's first cup of coffee
2. Kevy playing crazy music to wake us all up
3. Ransom's crazy bed head and puppy smell
4. The crackling fire in our fireplace
5. All of my canned foodies
6. Kaden reading (a little bit) during school
7. Jesse standing on the bench beside him, in his undies, winging a toy round and round his head yelling: "Am I reading, too????" Not even close, my love.....
8. Naptime.....
9. My home
10. Days where I was intentional with my family and had my priorities right.

Things That Delight me That Probably Shouldn't:

1. Kaden's discovery of a nickname for Jesse Booker......"Juicy Booger."
2. Jesse's extreme displeasure with his new nickname.
3. Hearing the boys' super late night discussions in their bunkbeds revolving around all things that only little boys find hilarious.
4. The T.V. show "Wipe-Out." I find people taking major diggers HILARIOUS.
5. Laughing with Kevy at REALLY inappropriate times.
6. Being completely unable to control said laughter at said inappropriate times. (This one's my favorite...).
7. Our kitty stalking the boys and making them shriek in terror.
8. Realizing that "manners" are somewhat relative when it comes to little boys.
9. Listening to Ransom totally hold his own when Jesse takes something from him.
10. After telling Ransom "no" many times to not eat the kitty food....letting him....and have him see for himself why Mama was right.

Things That Do Not Delight Me:

1. All three of my boys fighting fevers.
2. Taking showers and getting ready for the day. Time wasters!!
3. Discussing how we are going to "off" Turk when the time comes.
4. Kaden's morning breath that he finds hilarious in breathing on me.
5. My canned foodies that came out yuck-o.
6. Any shopping other than yard sales or vintage funky places.
7. Rainy, dreary, cold days.
8. When Kev leaves the house before 7:00a.m.
9. Ransom's screaming phase.
10. clutter.

Okay, people. Your turn!

Ransom Malachi


One year ago this morning, after a VERY eventful previous day of moving into our new home, sweet Ransom Malachi - "God's messenger of hope and deliverance" was born. He was my longest and most intense labor, but my most controlled delivery and quickest recovery, as well. After he was born Kev said: "Hey! I think we're getting the hang of this!" Ha!

Kaden's birth was a very traumatic experience for us - in every sense of the word. My doctor was on vacation, so I had a creep-o take her place with absolutely no bedside manner. I was induced, which I was absolutely against, but my kidneys were in distress; and Kaden was born so uncontrolled and so quickly that I almost lost my womb as a result. I barely got a chance to give him a kiss before I was whisked to surgery, and every thing about it was just plain awful.

When I was due with Jesse in PA, I found a midwife who was completely "hands off" in her approach and very willing to do everything possible to avoid induction. My kidneys still started getting sick, but we waited. I trusted her and she trusted me. We did natural things, I laid on my side, I peed in a ginormous bucket for them to monitor etc. etc. - and he came on his own, twenty minutes after walking through the hospital doors - one week before due date.

Then we moved home, and I was pregnant with Ransom. Two extremely different birth experiences, and I was desperate to replicate my second. Because of a friend (Sarah, I will forever sing your praises), we found a little hospital an hour away that's considered a level 2 birthing center. They are known for letting women "write their own birth stories." And so Kev and I compromised. He said he never ever wants to deliver on the side of the road. Once things get rolling with me, my babies come quickly. And I hate hospitals. So, the deal was, when he said it was time to kick it there would be NO discussion. I agreed.

So, that was the deal. When Kev said he wanted to go, we left. And within the hour of our arrival, sweet Ransom was born - peacefully, slowly, and just the way we wanted it. And how this first year of his little life has FLOWN! I know now, third time around, that all stages of our children's lives are FLEETING. And I have tried - oh, how I've tried - to savor him. Not knowing if he'll be our last, I am just trying to enjoy each and every stage to its fullest. Rancey was our easiest and most "chill" baby, hands down - and he's quickly turning into our strongest willed wee little person! He is definitely a funny blend of both his two older brothers.

Happy first birthday to my little Ransom Malachi - our sweet joy and our sunshine. You have added life, crazyness, and a new dimension of "loud" to our home. And you have also brought us such joy and delight. You are loved deeply, dear one. Mama must give you many MANY kisses today...and lots of squishies......and a few nibbles.

You are delicious. And for your birthday, I shall feed you grapes for every meal, because they are your FAVORITE!!!

One Year


Well, one year ago today, we were sitting on pins and needles praying that our paperwork would go through on this little place that we now call our own. We literally did not know until the "morning of" whether this would be our house or not! Banks don't really understand the concept of support raising and the fact that our paychecks look so different each month. Thankfully, we had a Christian real estate agent - and friend; a Christian mortgage loan officer - and friend; and the person at the very top who had the final say on whether or not he would sign off on our house was a believer, as well. The whole story from start to finish is totally and completely a "God thing."

We had lived in Pennsylvania for three years - which was very much the city to us; and we were living in an apartment above a hotel in town ever since we moved home. Loved LOVED the landlords, and had rockin' next door neighbors - but we were in town, nonetheless, and our "backyard" was the hotel parking lot. Once we found out baby #3 was a boy, all I could think and pray about was finding some wide open spaces! It had now been almost six years since we'd had a place of our own.

So, the countdown began. We looked and we prayed and we drove all over God's creation praying over places and weighing the pros and cons. Kev kept coming back to this place over and over again. It never really rocked my world, but I have a hard time seeing past other people's style etc. So, all I could see were the fire engine red shutters and doors, and the black and lime green bedrooms. But, this was just looking at it online - we never actually scoped it out for ourselves.

So, one day we called our real estate agent friend and we all went for a drive. After seeing the place - and looking past the walls and shutters, we thought we'd place an offer knowing we had nothing to lose. When we told our agent the price we were offering, he told us that if we were serious about the place we'd better make a more realistic offer. We told him that this was VERY realistic for us! He just shook his head but called the other agent, nonetheless. Within the hour, the other agent called, and by day's end a price was agreed on!

After the many MANY weeks of waiting and praying - and just partially packing because "what if" this falls through - we went hard core with the packing TRUSTING and PRAYING that this would go through!

That morning - t-minus 11 hours before Ransom made his entrance -

That was me. I know. READY TO POP. I believe whenever I wore this shirt, Kev called me "Barney." The dear. But, I digress......

we signed papers, completely packed up and cleaned our apartment - with family and friend's help; got everything into our new house - boxes in the appropriate rooms, anyway; got my kitchen and our bedroom (which would be Ransom's room for a few weeks) completely set up; and got paint colors chosen for the living room and the two bedrooms for the boys.

When our heads hit the pillows that night, my exact words to Kev before we rolled over and fell asleep were: "If the baby comes tonight, I am totally and completely okay with what we got accomplished. I'm ready!"

And within hours of falling asleep, little Ransom Malachi Booker - just one day before his actual due date - made his entrance into our lives! What an amazing year it has been! A year FILLED with gifts and growth, challenges and life lessons. A year where we've learned more about ourselves than ever before, and where we've trusted Christ on a whole new level. He has proven Himself faithful over and over again, and He has, once again, given "exceedingly abundantly above and beyond all that we could ever have asked for or imagined."

Who knows what next year will bring? Who knows how long we'll call "here" - HOME. We're on a crazy journey, and we know all that He gives is on loan. We know that tomorrow, He could ask us to give it back. And we know that once again, He would prove Himself faithful. It is ALL His. May we be good stewards of all that He has given. May we use it to bring Him alone honor and glory.

We are humbled, and we are so very very thankful.

Zero for Three

So, this was our third Friday in a row hitting the trails during Ransom's morning nap looking for the elusive partridge. While he is still taking two naps a day, we have this wee little window of time to be able to go out and about and actually DO something on our family day. So, for the majority of our family days, we just throw the morning nap to the wind and go and do - otherwise, we'd be trapped at home all morning. Sometimes, this works out great....other times, not so much.

Anyway, on the way to our spot, Kev and I were talking up front. I believe our conversation went a little bit like this:

Kevy: I'd be surprised if we actually shot a bird on one of these trips.
Me: I'd be SHOCKED!!!!
Kevy: (Slightly offended) Why would you be "SHOCKED"?
Me: Uuuuhhhhh....Because your four "helpers" (I include myself here, because I'm totally along for the drive and things I can find to decorate my house with) don't do a whole lot of helping!

Allow me to demonstrate with pictures:

THIS:

and this:

lasts for about five minutes.
Until the boredom sets in.
And the crazyness.
And the "hooligan-ism."

Exhibit A:

and B:

and C:

and D: - THIS one is NO good........


I rest my case.
The poor soul is off hunting on his own while the natives sleep it off.

Brothers

Warning: Super long post ahead......

Part of the reason why I always wanted boys was that I only had brothers growing up. It's what I know. Boys say it like it is. When they're irritated, they let you know, and then they move on. No pettiness. No grudges held. No talking behind each other's back. What you see is what you get. I like that. I'm not a real big fan of drama. And though, I know of many MANY little girls who I would be thrilled and honored to call my own - I'm just as happy being stuck with my little hooligans. The Lord knows there's enough drama with three boys, as it is!

(Why RIGHT this very instant, as I type - truth be told - I'm dealing with a little drama of "Kaden touched me and he got me weeeeet! I don't like to be weeeet!" Toughen up, Buttercup. Get over it. (Stole that quote from you, Rach. Love it).

Anyway, I digress.....

Back to MY brothers. I have two of those bad boys. Two men who I would die for, and who I know would do the same for me. Two men who I am blessed to be able to say are two of my greatest friends. One is older and one is younger. Both quite different from the other in personalities. One calls me weekly and talks my ear off. The other doesn't say a whole lot.

This post is about HIM.

Clay is quiet. He is shy. He is gentle. He is deep. And he doesn't talk a whole lot unless he's in the mood. And when he's in the mood, I drop everything, because I'm never sure when the mood will strike him again! A few years ago, he asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I told him that I wanted him to write me a poem. He's a gifted writer, and he's shown me things that he's written over the years about his own life, about Mom and Dad, about his struggles, etc. And so I told him, I noticed he'd never written anything about his rockin' sister, and I wasn't afraid to resort to begging, so that's what I wanted.

And he delivered. This was written about three years ago, when I was pregnant with Jesse. Obviously some of the things that he writes about, no one will get but us, but here is just a wee little window into my biggest bro's heart. I LOVE him. He is the reason why I always wanted a boy first; why I wanted all of my other children to have a big brother like I did. He would NOT be impressed if he knew I was sharing this poem, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't read my blog, so he'll never know! And if he does....he'll get over it. He's a boy.

Okay....here are just a few lines from his gift:

When I Was a Small Child and My Sister Was Mine

When I was just little
And my sister was mine
We played when we wanted
Every day was just fine.

When you were a baby
I was naught but a child
The days passed with pleasure
The memories were mild.

When I was a small child
And my sister was mine
We played on that toy box
All the days seemed sublime.

As we've gotten older
Gain responsibility
There'll not be another
Time when life was so free.

We each had our own swing
Between maple trees
I remember swinging
I can still feel the breeze.

When you would play soccer
I would come with Keaton
Ride up in Dad's bronco
See who you were beating.

We ate paper towels (don't ask)
Put our feet on the bar
Now we are both married
And you're living quite far.

That man Kevin Booker
Came and took you away
You have a family
With one more on the way.

Kaden is a fine boy
He reminds me of you
And Kevin his Daddy
Can be seen in him too.

You used to wear glasses
And you had braces too
You don't even squint now
And your teeth look like new.

She's still very pretty
Though she is my sister
I'm sure there have been boys
Who wished they had kissed her.

You're still just as pretty
Though you have hit thirty
But I'd like to revisit
Times when we were both free.

Fall Gibreckle

:: Bittersweet season is upon us! Not sure how many of you like to decorate with "nature" as much as I do....but in my book, this stuff is some of the most gorgeous decor that you could ever get. And it's free! You just have to go and find the stuff and cut it down.....and then convince your husband that under no uncertain terms will the baby come into contact with this "poison." Ahem. Kevy and I have this discussion just about every year. It's all good. He lets me hang the poison, I don't let the boys play ball to knock down the poison, I don't spend any money for decorations, no one eats the berries, and it's really just a win-win situation for all! And then, we go through the whole process again come winterberry season! OH! How I LOOOOOVE my poison!

:: Oh heavens. A large apology had to be made to my "girls" this morning. My duckies, just very recently, began sporting a curled back tail feather. For some reason, I have JUST noticed this. Which means.....my girls....are really BOYS. Poor things. I think I've given them a complex.

:: Seriously. How cute is this? The girls heard us inside puttering in the kitchen, and came to scope out the situation this morning. Little chicky prints.

:: Here lies my next big project. Anytime we go for a drive in the boonies or a walk in the woods, I am bringing home as many large rocks as the car trunk and Kevy will allow. One time, we were dragging so low, we had to pull over and ditch a few. That was a sad day! Once I have enough accumulated, I'm going to lay big tarps around the back perimeter of my garden where the poison ivy grows prolific. Then, I'm going to lay a whole whack of mulch hay and build my own rock wall over that junk. I can't kill it, but I can suffocate the snot out of it.

:: I'm sure you knew this, but an el cheapo, super cute fall and winter decorating idea is to dry oranges, apples, limes, and lemons in your oven on a very low heat and make your own super cute potpouri. It smells yummy, too.

:: Just don't forget that you have said decor in your oven while preheating it for supper. This was batch number one. Fabulous.

:: Here's another little fall project I'm plucking away at. Well, really Dad and I are kind of having fun with this. Whenever we get together, we ride around and scope out birch trees to cut down.

:: Then I bring them home and make these bad boys. I'm planning to start selling a few here and there. Anybody want one? Think CHRISTMAS presents!!!......


Happy Fall, my friends!

Final Harvest

~ The final pumpkins and squashies have been harvested......

~ Along with the few straggling tomatoes and peppers.....

~The lettuce and carrots remain in the ground.
~ Mr. Frosty, please don't kill them....

Gorgeous....You served us well. You shall remain!

~ Until next year, then. Sweet Garden.

Heater Hunting

A bee-you-ti-ful fall day begs for a lovely drive in the country...in search of our supper, of course. The elusive partridge!

Kevy drove, prepared with his hunting hat all askew:



Kaden hung out of one window, prepared with his bow and arrow:



Jesse hung out the other, prepared with his sling shot:



And Ransom sat betwixt them, prepared with his.......talking toy Elmo:



But he soon ended up like this:



I drank my hot coffee and looked at a cooking magazine. Ahem.

And, although, we came home with nary a birdy, we DID however, come home with THIS:
(NOT sure what all these next letters mean, but I can't get rid of them......Feel free to ignore.....)
a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtpufp4a-HbJgRcu1c2wAdN34It-xu921-xPy7AFzrDGm7aOMIs8j_Cttzu1rlCi-bsVQZAqr3OQb_g3mAAEmioujJ0J8PfstXpOCuBtZzveB8Tjic6Cq9sxYgQdhdxhcEDFb/s1600/hunt+007.jpg">

Meet the newest member of our family.....for a day or so, at least.

I hear tell that it's illegal to take these guys from their natural habitats.
Well, had I NOT rescued this little guy, he would have been squashed in two seconds flat. He was trying to cross a very busy road.

SO.

Will we be felons and keep this little guy, or will we be good little citizens and send him home?

That is the question posed, my friends. THAT is the question posed.



To be continued...............

H O M E

Life in the Booker household has been a bit of a roller coaster ride these past couple of weeks. We've had a trip up North planned for awhile now, so the timing was nice. We did some support raising, we kicked back with family, my brother returned from Texas who I haven't seen for A YEAR!!!!!, I visited my Great-grammy who is turning 100 on Friday, we homeschooled right at the kitchen table......and for a few blessed days.....we lived "The County way."

There was a WHOLE lot of this:

(This is my little dirt road that I grew up on. Kaden now likes to be the driver).

And we often ended up in places like this:

(We always stop for snacks somewhere along our adventure. This was at a camp overlooking my little town).

By rides' end, someone almost always ended up like this:

(He is DE-licious....even though he's entered a screaming phase which makes me crazy).

There is NEVER enough of this:

(This is just up the road from my house on the property of my very oldest, kindred friend. We trespass everytime we come home. I hope her parent's don't mind. On THIS particular adventure, Jesse almost fell in).

Always resulting in catches like this:

(Jesse and I always kiss the frogs. We think they're cute. This grosses Kevy out, and he won't kiss me until I wash my lips).

Someone had a birthday and turned this many:

(But he was a grumpy pants on the night of his party, so after he unwrapped a few presents, I put him to bed and all the little brothers and cousins ate his cupcakes)!

And in true hick-style fun, Dad always comes up with some crazy fun for us to do like moose calling after dark, or catching and releasing skunks that he traps in our driveway:

THIS is Dad's homemade skunk trap. In the week that we were home, we caught three skunks! Dad lures them in with a peanut butter sandwich. When they chomp down on their treat, the trap door is released, and voila!...said skunk is trapped. When Dad gets home from school, we load this contraption onto the back of the truck, drive to some field or gravel pit somewhere and let 'em go. Sometimes. When the littles tag along.

When the littles don't come....well, the little skunky gets sent home to glory......

Welcome to my world.

And now we are home. Unpacked. Settled in. Nesting complete.

And I am happy.