It's a Rainy Day In August

So much for the mowing and weed eating I was planning on doing today. It has been raining off and on for the past five or six days. Seems strange for August. But, really, the only complaint I have is that it stopped Chris from installing the water softener in the pump house over the weekend.

I don't think Chris really meant it to work out this way, but we bought a dishwasher for our anniversary. We've been married for thirteen years, and for all that time, have never had a dishwasher. I take that back. We had one for a short while when we moved to the farm, but we never used it. It took up vital cabinet space in the trailer, and I really didn't want the water-spotted dishes I was sure would be the result of using it.

Anyway, last week sometime, Chris came home from work and noticed a large, two-day pile of dishes filling the sink and counter tops. "Maybe it's time we get a dishwasher," he said. He expected the normal resistance, I'm sure. In the past, I always argued that a dishwasher was something we didn't need, and spending a chunk of money on something we didn't need seemed unwise. But I had just spent the day jumping through hoops and trying to figure out what other hoops I was supposed to jump through in order to get my new business up and running, and housework wasn't anything I was focused on. "Okay," I said. A dishwasher sounded nice right then.

So, although Chris got the dishwasher installed over the weekend, I am not using it yet. I still don't want water-spotted dishes, and the water softener that we bought last fall still need to be installed. This weekend looks more promising.

August 20th already.

The kids started the first week of August. This is the picture of their first day, eyes puffy with lack of sleep.

Two days before school was scheduled to start, we took a trip to Lake Winnie, an amusement park in Chattanooga. Reanna came and spent the night so we could get an early start the next morning.

 This is one my favorite pictures from the day. Last year, Z wasn't tall enough for the crazier rides, but this time, she was. So for her second ride, I took her on the Tilt-A-Whirl. Inspite of her initial reaction, she loved it, but, truth be told, I didn't. For the first time in my life, I almost threw up after a ride, and it took a good while for my stomach to settle back down.

 The next weekend was Mark's birthday, and the family came out for some fun at the farm. Mark brought down his new little drone, and promptly lost it in the tops of some trees. He and Mike spent a good while plunging through the woods in search of it, until Mike, using his innate MacGyver skills, located the tree it was in. I climbed a 28 foot ladder up into the tree, then scaled a little higher. I still couldn't see the drone, but once I gave the tree a good shake, it fell to the ground.

Next came fun on two wheels.

Joe and Robert are naturals. I can see them winning motocross races someday. 

But when it came time for the girls to ride, I was incredibly nervous as Finley's motor skills aren't as keen as the boys'. Thankfully, my brother is an excellent and careful teacher, and the girls were soon zipping around like they had been riding  motorbikes for months.

 In other news, mama chicken and her babies are doing well. Two of the chicks died, but the rest are doing well. I think there are fifteen in all, but they are incredibly hard to count, as is evidenced by the blurry photo.

 With the kids back in school, and the majority of business stuff out of the way for the moment, I had time to take on another project. Jane, our rabbit, has been cooped up in a small hutch for over a month. I had used her cage to house some chickens for a while, and now that those chickens are gone, I needed to get it ready for her to move back in. The tarp I had used for shelter was shredded, so I had planned to take the metal sheeting off an old truck topper to make a sturdier, longer-lasting shelter for Jane. I got it half finished yesterday before incoming rain forced me to stop.

While dismantling the old topper, I noticed some strange patterns in the algae covering old plastic-bubble windows. Apparently some worm or larva had been feasting on the algae, leaving something strangely beautiful... a little reminder to slow down in all the busyness to take notice.

Just Do It

If I had a hundred dollars for every time the "I need a vehicle that seats seven or eight, but I don't want a minivan" post showed up on facebook, I could probably afford the 4WD Suburban I'd rather drive than a minivan.

It reminds me a bit of the struggle I have with my kids over food- my son in particular. He doesn't like any food at all that is actually good for him. I caught him making "cinnamon toast" yesterday. He had already made one piece and was working on the second. The bread was toasted, the butter applied, and then came the sugar. I watched as he started pouring sugar over the toast, his face determined, his hand steady, and he kept pouring, the sugar starting to pile into a small mountain range.

I get it. Sugar is yummy. But come on, kid. Sometimes you have to eat your vegetables even if you don't like them. You just have to.

So, all you moms and dads out there with young kids. I understand. You don't like minivans. I don't either. But eventually, we all have to grow up and eat our vegetables. Maybe the reason you eat them is because you realize all the health benefits that vegetable possesses, and so you throw it in your smoothie and find a way to eat it, even though you don't like the taste or texture. And sometimes, when you try a vegetable, you find you actually kind of like it!

So for whatever reason you don't like minivans, think of it this way. Owning a minivan is a message to the world that you are willing to sacrifice your ideal vehicle for family and friends. That ought to be something to be proud of. And if it makes you feel better, slap a bumper sticker on it that says, "I'd rather be driving a _________."

Mother Hen

Mama's babies started hatching yesterday. It took me by surprise, since it didn't seem like 3 weeks had passed since she started sitting.

Last night there were only two: a pale silvery yellow chick, and a darker tan and brown.

This morning, when I went out to check, I could count nine babies lined up in front of Mama, looking out at the world.

This afternoon, it looks like two must have fallen out of the nesting box, so Mama is on the ground protecting them, while the rest (at least eleven!) sit up in the nest wondering what to do.

There is already a mother hen on the scene, but I can't help feel like a secondary mother hen, worrying over the whole brood.