My Life

This morning, I spilled an entire cup of coffee.  Into a drawer, in my bathroom.  Don't have a clue how I did it.

I'm on my third wedding ring...same husband.  I had only had my current ring 8 days when I lost a diamond.  Neal had purchased a lifetime diamond replacement warranty.  I may be careless, but he's not stupid.

After having an "Energy Audit" done on our house, I've decided it would be cheaper to just build a new house.

I made baked beans for my Small Group pot luck last night.  The oven timer was set.  I took Neal to the airport and returned to overcooked, dry, chewy beans.  I took them to Small Group anyway.  Nobody asked for the recipe.

My granddaughter told me that I have "little, bitty, tiny boobies." 

This is my life.

Almost

We are just this close to eating our first homegrown tomato of 2010.

I can almost taste it now.

And there's another, even bigger, one right under it.

Yay!

The Art of Berrypicking

Pre-picking preparations are key.  I suggest wiping yourself down with a mosquito wipe before donning a long-sleeved shirt and jeans.  And be sure to put kerosene on the cuffs of the sleeves and the hem of the jeans.  Then place rubber bands around wrists and ankles before stepping into your work boots.

Finally, attach an Off Clip On to your waistband.  I dare a chigger to penetrate this armor.

And don't forget gloves, because God didn't make it easy to harvest these guys from their thorny bushes.

Awwww.  Pretty wildflowers on the way to the garden fence. I'm very easily distracted.

This was our garden spot last year.  It was a lot of work and not very productive, since the deer ate just about everything before we had a chance.  This year it is filled with wildflowers, which may devastate Neal, but it tickles me pink.

What we DO have is a massive amount of blackberries growing along the fence line.

Here are some of my warnings tips when you're picking blackberries.  When you see several good specimens on one branch, don't get in a hurry and try to pick several at once. The majority will just end up on the ground.  Take your time and pick them one by one and drop them carefully into your berry basket.

Or Cool Whip tub....whatever.

When you hear rustling in the leaves under the bushes, just pray that it's not a copperhead.  And if it IS a copperhead, just pray that he is more afraid of you than you are of him.  And if God answers THAT prayer, you will have experienced a miracle of biblical proportions.

Choose your berries carefully.  The perfect blackberry is big, black and shiny.  Shriveled are no good, and dull are on their way to being shriveled.  It should practically fall into your hand...or onto the ground, as mentioned before.  If it was not a perfect 10, do not forage through the leaves to retrieve it.  Mr. Copperhead is just dying for you to do that.

Here is an almost perfect blackberry.

I have never been much of a fan of berrypicking.  But when I saw this....

I couldn't help but get excited.

And this almost made me giddy......

I think I'd had too much sun by that time.

Ooh.  Dragonfly.

If your hand starts swelling and throbbing, the rubber band is probably too tight.  I'm just guessing.

When you've had enough fun.  Strip down and jump in the pool. Not only will it cool you off, but the chlorine may kill any chigger that managed to get past the kerosene and rubber bands.

Don't try this if you live in the city.











It's a lot of work for a blackberry cobbler.  But right now, there isn't much I wouldn't do for my hubby.

Treasures

Jacob and Lauren had another fun-filled evening at Nana's.  As soon as we got to the house, we went to check on the progress of the fence.  Not much longer....(she says, for the umpteenth time).  Next, we must check the skimmer basket.  Now this has become one of Jacob's summertime favorites.  There's just no telling what treasure we may find in the skimmer basket.

 JACKPOT!

As you can see from the wet hair and droplet dangling from Jacob's nose, he had to lean over the edge of the pool and snag this lizard who had slithered out of our reach.

And don't think for a minute that Lauren didn't want in on some of the action.

I didn't take a turn, myself.  Someone has to be the photographer, right?

I was pretty nonchalant, until they started doing this:

And, although it was rather touching when their bedtime prayers included their new slimy friend, I secretly hope that when we check the minnow bucket this morning, he will be quite dead.

Summer

It's Summer!  Well, technically it's still Spring, but when you live in Oklahoma, and school's out, and the temps are in the 90's....it.is.Summer.

I know that look.  He's contemplating something that Nana's not going to approve of.

Oh yeah, I think he's a jumper.

I'll spare you the pictures of blood and guts all over the porch.

Small Town, USA

We're getting an IHOP!  Walmart couldn't do it.  McDonald's couldn't do it.  But maybe now, we'll be on the map.  I'm sure El Chico's is in our near future.  No joke, I am sincerely excited about this.  I LOVE breakfast.  More specifically, I LOVE pancakes, especially when they're not served on a styrofoam plate.

 I'm taking bets on whether it's finished before my fence.

FOUR weeks....and counting.

Can You Say "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?"

One side of the fence is built.  That's the good news.

I have to keep repeating to myself...It's just a fence. It's just a fence. It's just a fence.

Deep breaths, Lita.  Deep breaths.

Iron Chef vs. Barefoot Contessa

I know all about role reversal.  Though I haven't really reached the point of parenting my parents, I have experienced a few moments of my sons parenting me.  Like this weekend when Jeremy performed "ant-o-cide" in my master bathroom while I was away.  Of course, my preference would have been for him to dispose of the corpses before I returned, but I'm thankful that those 7000 ant carcasses were not still crawling when I got home shortly before midnight. ((((shiver)))


Nobody told me about spouse reversal.

Since Neal has been traveling, we've both had a lot of learning to do.

This was the scene in the RV on Monday.

Never trust a man with a knife in his left hand.

Or a woman with a screwdriver.

Yeah, that's right.  Neal is cooking our dinner, while I am hooking up the FM and AM antennaes on the stereo system.

Sadly, Neal is a much better cook than I.  But am I sad?  

OH BABY!!!

Butterflied shrimp ready for the barbie.

Mexican Shrimp Scampi....mmmm, mmmmm.

Can you see the peaches on OUR side of the fence?

I expect homemade peach cobbler on my next trip.