My Hero

Yesterday morning the live trap was shut. Okaaaaay..... I picked it up, but really wasn't sure by its weight if there was a mouse inside. I think this can wait until Neal gets home. Yeah. That's a good idea.

I know after a 10 hour work day, this is the first thing my husband wants to do when he walks through the door. He picked up the trap and shook it. Sure 'nuf, we think there's a mouse trapped inside. I said, "What do we do? What do we do? What do we do?" This phrase kept spewing out of my mouth at a higher pitch with each repetition. "WHAT DO WE DO?" His solution--"Tomorrow I'll take him out in the pasture, let him go and shoot him with my pellet gun!" (He's just been dying to try out his new Christmas present.)

He lives for this stuff.

Gotta shake him up and get him real good and dizzy.

The moment of truth.


And it's over in one shot.

Now just in case you still don't think we're hick enough....Neal took a picture of me, the photo journalist, in my pj's, robe and work boots....

I'm sure I've spoiled all my readers' romantic, idealistic views that I always have it "together." Get over it. This is life on the farm.