Dear Husker

Dear Husker,

Even though I only knew you for five months, things aren't the same without you.  I now have to wait alone at the side gate for the big guy to come home from work.

You know, you could be rather annoying at times.  Like when you'd beat me to the coop at night and hog the blue cushion. Sometimes I'd get there first and block the door.  And you would stand outside and bark incessantly, until I conceded and let you inside.  And the way you paced back and forth between our bowls at meal time, eating out of both bowls.  Sheesh!

Of course, everyone knew about your foot fetish.  Many a person limped across the yard with your front paws wrapped around their ankle.

I tried to mentor you, but you were very stubborn. Occasionally, the big guy would let us ride in the back of the cadet when our stubby legs were tired.  But you couldn't stay still and you'd jump out, refusing to listen to my wise counsel.

Remember the time you took 10 years off our Master's life when you did an aerial and back flip out of the pick-up, traveling at 50 miles per hour?  I gave you a 7.5 on that one...I had to deduct for the landing.

I 

always pretended to suffer in silent tolerance when you constantly licked my face.  But secretly, I cherished every moment.

You'll be missed little buddy.

Love,

Gracie

Let the Fall Season Begin

Tonight is the 2 hour season premiere of Biggest Loser.  I can hardly contain myself.  Jillian is my hero.  I want to be Jillian. At least I want to have her calves and deltoids.  But my choice of trainers would have to be Bob--cause he likes Yoga and Jill yells alot.

Oh, the challenges--the failures--the triumphs!  It's all so heart-wrenching.  I know...it's a sickness. Especially since it airs on Tuesday nights which, as you know, is "burrito night" at the Blevins'. By the time they get to the weigh-in I'm usually on my second dip of oreo ice cream, sorely disappointed in the lack of self-control that led to the pathetic 8 pounds lost by my pick of the night.

This season will be extra special, since I learned that the Youth Minister from Jenks is one of the contestants.  Go Sean!  I'm pumped.

Look Out Shoeshine!

It's been a very wet August and September.   But since Jacob just recently learned to ride his bicycle without training wheels, he's not gonna let a little rain stop him.

Just strap on a pair of rain boots and off you go.  Shoeshine (the stray dog that has taken up residence in their garage) better stay clear! 

Rock Fire Department Rocks!

This morning I balked at going to the Annual Rock Fire Department Auction.

Neal had to drag me out of the house, thermos of coffee in hand.  Turned out to be a blast! They even served sausage, biscuits and gravy for breakfast and hamburgers, hotdogs, frito chili pie, etc. for lunch.

Here's the loot we came home with.

7 horsepower tiller:  $175

(priced one last night at H0me Dep0t for over $700)

A BIG box

over half full of

strings of BIG Christmas lights, to light up our campsite:  $2

Zero Gravity lounge chair:  $30

(almost bought one of these this week at Atw00ds for $70)

Featherlite gas weedeater:  $7.50

Denon DVD player for the RV: $12.50

Chitchatting with our country neighbors and bidding like the pros:  Priceless.

IDL Construction Woes

I feel the need....for speed.  Really, I just need to vent.

What part of "Right TWO Lanes Closed Ahead" do you not understand?

Don't leave signs like "To I-244 West" uncovered and mislead me to believe that that ramp will actually be OPEN and TAKE me to I-244.

I get the heebie jeebies driving under an overpass supporting a man with a jackhammer.

The speed limit at the "End of Road Work" should be 75 mph...to make up for lost time...plus we're all driving that fast anyway.

He's Ba-ack

Is this going to be an annual visit? It was last September that the big guy first showed up at the Blevins' Farm and eventually brought all his friends. Here we go again.

First Fruits

Neal finally harvested something edible from his blood, sweat and tears.

His words:  "Babe, you think you could fry this up for supper?"

On the left--our squash.  On the right, squash from the in-laws garden.  I think we have a lot to learn.

Things Your Doctor May Neglect to Tell You About a Hemorrhoidectomy

Read.  And learn.

Delegate a sober and alert caretaker to read and administer post-op directions. Percocet-impaired eyes may read "2 Tablespoons" when it really says "1 teaspoon" of Citrucel--mixed in juice every morning.  Yes, in just a matter of hours, your belly skin CAN and WILL stretch to the size of a 5-month pregnancy.

There is only one purpose of a bowel movement.  Survival.  I've had 6 now, so I think I get 3 more...or is that just cats?  I may be in trouble.

When your husband rudely breaks a loud windy, you will not reprimand him, but instead will pooch your lip out and say, "You're soooo lucky."

The only position you'll find comfortable is ... Knocked.  Out.

If you remain in the above position too long, you will not be able to have a bowel movement. and you will die.  And you will think that's a preferable cause of death...rather than to die actually HAVING said b.m.

Stock up on this:

It will save your family many trips to Walmart.  We've purchased 40 lbs.  So far.

The traditional pain scale goes from #1 to #10.  With #1 being "No Pain" and #10 being "Hurts Worst."  It should, in fact, include #12 "Just Shoot Me Now."

Before surgery the "affected site" may remind you of this cluster of grapes:

After surgery (and your doctor won't tell you this) you might expect a clean slate.  Au contraire. It will more likely resemble these raspberries:

It's all part of the "post-op swelling."  I may never be able to eat off these place mats again.

DO NOT USE ONE OF THESE:

It will only prove to increase the post-op swelling.

Do not schedule this procedure 5 days before a big event.  Like your favorite cousin's daughter's wedding.  Or you'll be relying on someone with an I-Phone to I-Chat the event to your living room.  And you'll realize that I-Chat goes both ways and they can see YOU in all your 5-day post-op splendor...5 days of unmoisturized, uncosmeticked, face...5 days of bed-head hair...sweaty, wrinkled pj's...probably best to just wait for the dvd.

Fly your mother in for at least a week.  Sure, your hubby might come in handy to lift you out of the tub and to count the 93 stool softener capsules because in your drug induced state, you won't remember if you already took your nightly dose--BUT--it probably won't occur to him to massage your aching back muscles or brush your hair just because it's soothing, or ask you if you'd like a nice cup of tea.  Or wash 34 loads of laundry and cook 27 meals. Or take pictures for your blog.

What'd You Do Friday Night?

Friday nights have changed drastically from my younger days...in the city.

I cooked steaks on the grill for supper (we say supper in the country, not "dinner").  We used to go out to eat on Friday nights *sigh*.  Ahhh, the good old days.

Then we went to Walmart.  To get a new air compressor...WOO HOO!  I wore the same thing I wore to the gym.  An oversized Husker Homerun Club t-shirt and some cut-off sweats that I bought at a garage sale.  Because I've become that woman.  The one who doesn't even glance in the mirror before trapsing off to Walmart "as is."

We came straight back home without so much as a treat from Sonic. *heavy sigh*

Here's what we did next.  (Don't tell me you're not sitting on the edge of your chair.)

Neal sawed tree branches while perched on the front loader of the tractor.

And who was behind the wheel, controlling the lever to raise him up to such great heights?

HA!  ME!  I finally get my chance to drive the tractor!  Sweet.

Now that's what I call "TRUST."

And this is the look I got for goofing off with the camera instead of taking my job seriously.  Okay, okay...I gotcha honey.

So what did YOU do on Friday night?

Ratatouille Goes to the Country

The cooler weather we've been having the last few days means less pool time.  I've made sure the pump runs at least 12 hours a day, but haven't bothered to really vacuum or clean out the filters this week. 

Yesterday we reached 90 again and today it's supposed to be even warmer, so this morning I strolled out to make sure Jeff had turned on the pump and decided to empty the skimmer basket. This can sometimes be an adventure. I'm getting used to dumping dead frogs, crickets, locusts, etc., and even the occasional LIVE frog and the rare "little" snake.  But I was not prepared for the intruder I would find.

What the what?!?!  A very LARGE mouse...dare I say "rat" was sitting on the edge of my skimmer.  I ran inside the house--partly because I needed my camera, but mostly because I just had the urge to run. When I came back, the critter scooted out of camera range, but revealed a smaller dead mouse swirling in the basket.

I went around to the side of the pool to get a picture of the "mother" who I thought would be perched on the edge, but she was GONE.

Did you know mice could swim?

But then maybe this is not a mouse.  Of course RATS can swim...hence the term "sewer rats."

Does this look like a rat?

Swim for your life buddy, cause you are dead meat!

Well, maybe I'm all talk and no action, 'cause I didn't actually kill it...I mean, what am I gonna do, fish it out with my bare hands and wring it's neck? Instead I got my grass net and with one motion scooped it up and flung it far away over the fence.  Pleeeeeease Mrs. Rat, don't come back looking for your dead baby!

What's Wrong with this Picture?

Anyone....anyone....?

Here's a hint.  Check out the hanging baskets.

These babies are not only hanging from the cross beam...they're hanging on for dear life. 

This beauty, on the other hand, is thriving in the crack between the porch and sidewalk....

My green thumb has been nurturing the hanging baskets all summer, resulting in sparse green and brown sprigs, while a seedling dropped from LAST YEAR's basket receives no attention from me...not even water.  I give up.

How Is This Possible?

YESTERDAY...

TODAY...

Jacob will be FIVE years old tomorrow. It doesn't seem possible. A few days ago, I sat down with him to ask him a few questions.  Sort of a record of his thinking process at the age of five. Jacob is NOT a man of few words. Most of the questions required a long dissertation and I had to interrupt him to get on with the next questions.  Then he began suggesting questions for me to ask him! So here goes.

Nana:  Who is your best friend?

Jacob:  Ummmm...Nana?  (good answer)

N:  What do you want for your birthday?

J:  I want a pirate ship so I can put all my pirate stuff in.

N:  What's your favorite food?

J:  Maybe broccoli--it makes me strong and healthy.

N:  What do you NOT like to eat?

J:  Deers...like the hair on it's head. 

N:  What's your favorite thing to do at school?

J:  Learn and play with toys.

N:  How high can you count?

J:  About 30 feet high.

N:  What do you want to be when you grow up?

J:  I'd like to be a daddy like my daddy so I can have a sharp knife--but they're not for play.

N:  If you could do anything you want today, what would it be?

J:  Play with Husker and Sissy and Momma and Daddy on the trampoline and Piercen and Baylor with the toys.

N:  If you could have any animal for a pet, what would it be?

J:  A baby sheep--that my dog couldn't tear his hair off cause he would be naked and he would be pink and a kangaroo with a baby in his pouch.

N:  What's your favorite sport?

J:  Soccer and baseball and hockey and the olympics.

N:  Who do you think you're going to marry?

J:  I don't marry anyone--I'm just a kid.

N:  Does anything scare you?

J:  No.  Not gooey monsters cause I can get the hair spray and spray 'em and they'll melt down.

N:  What is your favorite toy?
J:  Power Ranger swords.

N:  Do you want more sisters and brothers or just Sissy?

J:  I want more bruvers and sisters, cause when Sissy grows up and is a girl, then I will have a bruver and we will call him Deer Hunter.

Now for your viewing pleasure....a glimpse into Jacob's first five years:

Summer Days

One hundred degree weather calls for a swim party, don't you think?

Jacob wasn't about to wear floaties in front of the big kids, yesterday.  He swam like a fish all day and had the most fun.  The girls were mermaids and the boys were pirates.  Jack has "big brother" ingrained in him.  When Jacob would swim out to the middle of the pool, Jack always seemed to be there to buoy him up.  Thanks, Jack.

Lauren even took her floaties off briefly.  She jumped off the step into my arms, and a couple of times I "accidentally" let her go under water.  So she started counting, one...two...free...don't let me go under....go!

Jacob LOVED all his new friends which was of great concern to Jennah, until Jessica assured her that he loved her "as a friend."  At least for now, Jennah, 'cause if I have anything to say about it, I will someday tearfully watch you walk down the aisle to become Mrs. Jacob Blevins. 

Casanova

I spent Wednesday with my grandson.  Although Jacob is getting better about not needing my undivided attention every second of our time together, he can still be quite demanding. So my brilliant idea was to let him help me with the chores, one of which was to Swiffer the floors. Since the weather was colder than expected, and he came in flip flops, we had to resort to a pair of my socks to keep his feet warm.  

He probably picked up more dust with the socks than the Swiffer, but whatever, my floors look shiny, right?

A lot of time was spent in our fort, which ended up full of army men and weapons made from Tinker Toys and a Sponge Bob lunch box full of ammo.

I'm working on cutting back on my caffeine intake, so by mid-afternoon, I REALLY needed a nap.  I suggested we lay in the fort and watch TV awhile...my eyelids were getting very heavy. And just as a reminder that you have to stay on your toes with kids and not get caught sleeping, Jacob began "smoking" one of the Tinker Toys.

I had to chuckle, and the more I did, the more he hammed it up.  Then he leaned back on one elbow and said, (in classic Joey Tribbiani style) "How you doin'?"

Oh boy, Jeremy and Trista are gonna have their hands full with this one.

Decisions, decisions.....

Last night, we finished hanging two of our umpteen gates.  Neal not only ingeniously designed the hinges, but also welded them together and then onto the fence posts.  And I helped.  Notice the obvious absence of photos of me in a welding hood.  Mostly I just held some do-hickies steady while he did the fun stuff.  I also lent my scrutinizing eyes to the "levelness" of the gate before each weld.

But after finishing, much to Neal's chagrin, I questioned our color scheme.  (He sure does roll his eyes a lot these days.)  As you can see, we hung the white gate next to the red barn.... 

And the red gate is in the middle of the white fence...

Before you chime in with your expert decorating opinion, I must inform you that the fence next to the barn will eventually be painted white.

And don't miss the subtle resemblance of the red gate to the shingles and door of the house...

Now you are free to give me your comments.

It's a beautiful thing....

Those of you who can't get enough of me through my blog and follow my facebook--sorry, I don't twitter (yet) even though there are thousands of inquiring minds who would love nothing more than to get an hourly update on every riveting detail of my exciting life--will understand the significance of these photos.

A finished fence is a beautiful thing.

That's right, our 4th of July weekend was spent completing the fence that separates our north and south pastures from the highway. 

So, our marriage has survived yet another challenging project. But not without a few bumps along the way.  Like the day I insisted we speak only Spanish while working in the south pasture.  We were leaving soon for Mexico and it seemed like a good time to practice. Neal wasn't enthused about the rules, but after much "eye-rolling" he saw that I wasn't giving in and reluctantly went with the flow. Another "bump" came this weekend when I was taking a tiny break, leaning my forehead against the top rail, when he decided to throw his 45 pound fence stretcher over the rail, slightly misjudging the clearance and causing my head to bounce multiple times against the metal rail.  At least, I think it was a misjudgment.  I've had a headache ever since.

Now, repairing and replacing just a few million feet of barbed wire is all that stands in the way of us finally putting a few calves out to graze.  Maybe next Spring????  That should really be interesting...since we know absolutely nothing about raising cattle.  Stay tuned....